Page 14 of The Lies We Leave Behind

14

“There’s a wounded man with a spectacular pair of blue eyes asking about you.”

I looked up from the bandages I was counting in the medical supply building situated next to the hospital and into the face of Edith, one of my housemates at the mansion.

We crossed paths nearly every morning, but had barely said more than two words to one another since I hadn’t had time to socialize much yet. I hoped to get to know everyone a bit better when I finally had a day off. It felt strange to only have conversed with Hazel and Luella. And barely at that. I had to remind myself that I’d had plenty of time to get to know my last squadron because we’d gone through training together. It had been quite the experience learning how to use gas masks together, swimming underwater, the surface lit on fire, and sitting through classes in geography before moving on to properly tend to a burn, a gunshot wound, or a head injury. And then there were the three days we had to make camp in the nearby woods and learn to survive should we ever be stranded. That experience alone had made Paulette, Tilly, Char, and me close as sisters.

“Did he charm you into coming to find me?” I asked, turning back to the bandages.

“I’d have done it without any charming,” she said. “He’s a looker, that one. Sweet too.”

I tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy. Had he teased her too? She was nice-looking with her golden waves and warm brown eyes. There was something comfortable about her. Friendly and open. Maybe William found her more appealing than me. Perhaps he found my looks cold and off-putting. My slender figure boyish instead of enticing.

“Kate?” Edith said and I blinked.

“Sorry,” I said and gestured at the mountain of supplies stacked nearby. “I’m a little distracted. Did he say what he needed?”

“I think he just needs you, love.” She winked and then waved as she hurried out the door, leaving it to slam after her.

I felt my cheeks warm as I stared at the closed door, chewing my lip as I considered popping in for just a minute to see how he was doing.

The door swung open again and I jumped.

“Short delay,” Theodore said.

“What for?”

“Weather.”

I looked past him at the sky. It was cloudy, as it had been the two days previously, but nothing to write home about.

“Not here,” he said. “There. A call just came in. Windy as all heck. Last plane in had a hard time landing.”

“But what about the men?”

He shrugged. “They’ll keep them as comfortable as they can until we can get to them.”

“I don’t like that.”

“No one likes it, Kate,” he said, his voice soft, and then closed the door gently as he left.

With a sigh, I noted the number of bandages I’d just counted on the supply list I’d been going through, hung the clipboard back on the wall where I’d found it, picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I couldn’t go back to the mansion in case the weather changed again and we were called to leave immediately. And I’d already eaten, so going to the mess hall was a waste of time.

I opened the door and stared at the hospital only a dozen or so feet away.

“Dammit,” I whispered, and started walking.

It was busy, nurses and doctors rushing about, soldiers awake and in pain, calling out for help. The clatter of trays rolling across the floor, instruments hopping on top, the smell of rubbing alcohol, and hush of voices trying to calm those in distress, and in the middle of it was William, watching me from the moment I stepped inside.

“You didn’t come yesterday,” he said, watching me carefully as I approached his bed.

I glanced at the men on cots on either side of him. One was asleep, one leg and arm each in traction, the other bleary-eyed and staring at the rafters above.

I grabbed a nearby chair and sat, setting my bag in my lap and fidgeting with the shoulder strap as I met his blue gaze.

“It was a busy day,” I said.

He nodded, still watching me, taking in my restless fingers.

“Are you okay?” he asked and then looked around the room as best he could, taking in the men around him. “I imagine your job can get a bit rough.”

“Not as rough as yours.”

“Neither is ideal,” he said, meeting my eyes once more, a small smile on his face. “You didn’t answer my question though.”

“I’m okay,” I said.

“You don’t seem to get your feathers ruffled much by all this.” He waved a hand at the room. “But something has you bothered.”

“What do you mean?”

He pointed at my fidgeting fingers and I stopped playing with the strap, slid the bag to the floor, and folded my hands in my lap.

“My flight got delayed for weather,” I said. “I hate the thought of the wounded having to wait.”

He stared at me quietly for a moment and then nodded.

“How did yesterday go?” he asked and I shrugged.

“Fine.”

“There’s that word again.”

“Sorry. I just don’t usually talk about my day. It’s...” My eyes clouded as images crowded my mind. “It’s hard to talk about. I prefer to leave it in the air.”

“I get that. Must be tough though. Do you at least talk about it with your comrades?”

I shook my head.

“One of the many unspoken rules of war, right?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice soft.

“Well then, let’s talk about something else. What did you do before this? Before the war.”

“I was a nurse.”

He laughed and the sound made my entire body light up.

“So, you’re either a glutton for punishment or a real-life heroine.”

I grinned, my shoulders relaxing as I sank back into the chair.

“I would say neither.”

“I would say that’s a nice story you tell yourself.”

Our eyes held, and after a moment I sucked in a breath and averted mine. It was like he could see into me. It was like I’d revealed a secret without saying a word, and I wondered then if he remembered hearing me speak to the German prisoner. If he’d somehow put together the puzzle pieces. But he couldn’t have. He’d have no way of figuring it out. For all he knew, I took a class to learn German or had picked up a few choice phrases thanks to my line of work.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there in that chair?” he asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Your marriage proposal,” I said, lying.

“We have so much planning to do.”

I could tell he knew I was lying, but was going to let it go, not wanting to press me. William Mitchell was a gentleman regardless of what situation he was in, bleeding out on a plane, or lying among dozens of other wounded men in a hospital. Shoot, he’d probably introduce himself and shake my hand while bleeding on the battlefield.

I grinned at the thought and he caught me.

“And what are you thinking about now?”

“Your manners.”

His eyes widened and he grinned. “My mama taught me well.”

“Well, she’ll be pleased to know what a fine man her son is, regardless of whatever terrible situation he’s in.”

“Lieutenant?” I turned at the sound of a man’s voice behind me and saw that it was Theodore. He glanced curiously at William, glanced at the paperwork attached to his bed, and saluted. “Sir,” he said before turning back to me. “Weather’s cleared enough to fly. We’re heading out in ten.”

“I’m right behind you,” I said, getting to my feet and reaching for my bag as I looked at William. “Get rest.”

“Seems I have no choice,” he said, pointing to each of his three wounds. “You be safe out there.”

“I will,” I said and started to turn away.

“And Kate?”

I stopped and met his eyes, a current of something passing between us and landing square in my chest, my heart racing in response.

“Yes?” I said.

“Come see me again?”

I wanted to put him off. To shrug. To not commit one way or the other. But there was something about him. A magnetism that drew me to him, shoving aside my resolutions not to get attached to or involved with a soldier. I was here to work. To do my part of righting a wrong. I didn’t have time to get distracted by charming smiles or eyes that reminded me of days lying on my back in the grass, staring at cloudless skies, a little voice singing silly songs as small feet danced around me. And I certainly didn’t have time to fall in love. I knew others had, and more would, but I’d always thought myself immune.

Perhaps I was wrong.

“I’ll see you soon,” I said, and hurried off after Theodore.

“So?” Hazel said later that night as we parked our bicycles out front of the house and made our way inside, our feet dragging after the long day.

“So what?” I asked, opening the ornate front door and waving her in in front of me.

We’d ridden home side by side, our planes flying in one after the other, and she’d told me her entire life story along the way, barely taking time to take a breath.

“I’m from Florida,” she’d said as soon as we were seated on our bikes. She’d pulled her long dark hair from its tie and let it tumble down her back, ignoring the whistles that came from the tarmac as we rode away. “Miami. You’d love it there. Well, maybe not, you’re kinda pale. Do you burn in the sun? I don’t burn. I love the heat. The music. The food. I was born in Puerto Rico but we moved to Miami when I was three...”

By the time we reached the mansion, I knew the names of her five siblings, her dog, Mischief, her nana and papa, her first, second, and last boyfriend, her favorite breakfast made by her tía Issa, and which friend stole her best blue sweater in the tenth grade. My mind was reeling by the time we pulled up to the house. So when she finally took a breath and turned the conversation to me, I was at a loss.

“So, tell me about the guy,” she said, slightly exasperated, as if I should’ve known exactly where she was going.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, closing the door and trying to think back to if I’d mentioned one of the wounded soldiers I’d seen that day. But she hadn’t given me a chance to speak until just now so I had no idea who she was referring to.

“You are a terrible liar, Lieutenant Campbell.”

If she only knew. But still I was confused.

“Edith told me about your handsome first sergeant,” she said, slipping off her blood-splattered shoes and nudging them to the side of the front door with everyone else’s. “How he was asking about you this morning.”

“Oh!” I said, finally putting two and two together. I shook my head, feeling a blush warm my face. “He’s not my first sergeant. Just a patient who nearly bled out on me the other day.”

“Mmm-hmm...and the one you went to check on, right?”

I shrugged and kicked off my own shoes, then sifted through the mail on the entryway table, finding a letter with my name on it in my aunt’s familiar penmanship. Tucking it into my pocket, I turned back to Hazel.

“I was worried about him,” I said.

“I worry about a lot of them,” she said. “But I’ve never gone to check in on one after I’ve delivered him.”

She stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for me to say something. She was more like Char than I’d given her credit for, and I wasn’t sure whether I should feel amused or annoyed. But the way she looked at me, eyes wide like an eager puppy desperate for information, interaction, or just plain attention, made me laugh. She was kind, funny, and sassy, holding tight to the person she was and reminding me of something my aunt Victoria had told me several times over the past decade—that I could not allow other people or circumstance to take my humanness from me.

“There’s no point in doing the job,” Aunt Vic had said when I first brought up the idea of going overseas, “if you cease living as a result.”

I stared at Hazel, weighing my options. If I told her, I knew I’d never hear the end of it. There would be endless questions so long as he was on base. If I didn’t tell her, I risked putting a wedge between me and my new friend. She’d feel I was keeping her at arm’s length, which was no way to build trust and encourage camaraderie.

“Fine,” I said, giving in. “I’ll tell you about him. But upstairs. In our room. I don’t need everyone knowing my business.”

“Ooh!” she said, hurrying up the stairs. “There’s business to know! I can’t wait. And who’s the letter from? Did I ever tell you that only one of my siblings ever writes?”

As she prattled on, I shook my head, following her up the stairs at a much slower pace, already regretting giving her any information about First Sergeant Mitchell, but also loving the idea of having a friend to talk to once more.

I woke the next morning at four thirty when the alarm went off, Hazel, across the room from me, letting out a loud groan before stumbling from her bed and turning it off.

“Sure you don’t want to take my shift today?” she asked, turning on her bedside lamp. Her hair was in its usual morning disarray around her shoulders.

“No thanks,” I said, and turned over, placing my pillow over my head as she loudly opened and shut dresser drawers.

The great house shook with the activity of those scheduled to work and, try as I might, with the front door slamming over and over again as the women hurried out into the day, I wasn’t able to get back to sleep.

With a sigh, I threw off my comforter, swung my legs over the side of the cot, and padded barefoot to the shared bureau where I pulled out a pair of denim trousers with button detailing on the pockets, a short-sleeve white blouse, yellow cardigan, and my favorite pair of brown-and-white oxfords from the closet.

“What are you doing up?”

I jumped, staring through the dim light of the kitchen in the direction of the voice and finding Darla, another of my co-workers I’d barely been able to exchange a hello and goodbye with as we passed one another coming and going. She was sitting at the kitchen table, tucked into the corner, her head resting against the wall behind her.

“Good morning,” I said, yawning into one hand as I took a mug from the cupboard with the other. “I couldn’t get back to sleep with all the noise. You?”

“Couldn’t get to sleep after my last shift.” She slid a plate across the table toward me and I peered down to find a bunch of grapes. “I’ve been up all night.”

“That’s awful,” I said taking two grapes and popping one in my mouth. “Where’d these come from?” It gave a satisfying burst of flavor as I bit down.

It hadn’t been that long since I’d eaten a grape, my aunt always keeping fresh fruit on hand, but here it was a delicacy and I savored the cold, bright flavor on my tongue before eating the other one and moving back to the counter to pour some coffee.

“Fresh load of fruits and vegetables came in last night,” she said. “I happened to be standing by when they unloaded these. I may have snagged this bunch without asking.”

“Well, I won’t tell,” I said, taking one more. “Thanks.”

“You headed out or staying in?”

“Thought I’d take a ride, check out a bit of the countryside.”

She glanced out the window, the sky a dusty blue, the sun about to make its debut.

“Good day for it,” she said. “Take a raincoat just in case though. The weather here is not to be trusted.”

Twenty minutes later, coffee mug emptied, washed, and put back in the cupboard, a slightly bruised apple in hand, I left the house, placed the apple in the basket on the front of my borrowed bicycle, and was off.

I bumped down the long driveway, the cool morning air whipping my hair around my shoulders, the quiet disrupted by the crunch of the tires over dirt and rocks. At the end of the drive, I turned right, heading in the opposite direction of base, smiling at green hills dotted with sheep, the scent of grass and flowers in the air. From here, one could almost forget a war was going on.

At the top of a small hill I stopped, leaned the bicycle against a short stone wall, grabbed my apple and rested my arms on the cool, damp stones. Before me the land sank and sloped for miles, soft and green, mist hanging in the glen, the sky turning from a dark, dusty periwinkle to a crisp blue.

As the sun finally made its appearance, I heard the faint sound of reveille and stood, turning toward the sound. When it finished, I ate my apple, tossed the core in the field, climbed back on my bicycle, and pedaled to base to see how William was doing.