Chapter 21
In the weeks after learning that Hank was missing in action, Rose rode waves of emotion, from fear of the worst-case scenario to hope that he would be found.
Some days, it was hard to get out of bed, and others, Rose bolted up, ready to diligently work through her sadness.
She felt so grateful to have the girls—Esther, mostly, but also Peggy.
All of them. They seemed to know just what to say or do to ease her pain, despite the cavernous hole in her heart.
Sometimes, they were her caretakers rather than the other way around.
But the girls were young, too young to stay home every Saturday night.
So a month after receiving the news about Hank, Rose allowed them to attend a dance at Fort Green, a military base almost an hour’s drive away.
For weeks, Peggy had been gently advocating for the outing.
There, they would do the foxtrot and flirt with soldiers bound for Europe’s front lines.
It would be morale boosting for the men, and an adventure for girls who spent their days in barns and fields.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here without us?” Esther asked.
“It’s only for the night,” Rose said, though she knew it would be an especially quiet, contemplative night. “Now you go on and have fun.”
In the hours before the dance, Rose watched the girls flit around each other’s bedrooms like bees visiting garden flowers—one pinning a curl back in the mirror, the other tightening the latch of her shoe strap, another applying Victory red lipstick and kissing the excess off on a handkerchief.
Clara borrowed a dress from Peggy, while Esther pinned up Susan’s hair.
They fussed over themselves, and each other, and it made Rose smile.
This is what it is to be young.
Rose prepared herself for a quiet night.
The twelve girls would take two cars to the fort and return late, with smeared lipstick, runaway curls, a dress rip, and juicy details about the young men for whom they’d flipped their hair all night.
Meanwhile, Rose would knit, read, and plan the coming week’s meals.
Clara’s birthday was this week—she would turn twenty on Wednesday—and Rose wanted to cook her a special dinner and bake a cake, like her own mother would, if she were home.
About forty-five minutes after they left, Rose heard the whir of a car engine. She peered out the window to see one group of girls already back. Peggy was walking with her arm around Esther; the others trailed behind like baby ducks.
Rose met them at the door. “What happened?”
“I don’t feel well,” Esther announced.
“She got car sick,” Peggy explained. “We pulled over, and she threw up in a cornfield. We decided to come back but told the other girls to go ahead.”
“I’m sorry,” Rose said, rubbing Esther’s arm. “I know how much you were looking forward to this.”
Esther nodded and held her stomach.
“The rest of you can still go,” Rose offered. “I’ll take care of Esther.”
“Nah.” Peggy swatted the air. “Seems too late to go now.”
“And we don’t want to go without Esther,” Clara chimed in. “It wouldn’t be right.”
Rose saw the discomfort in Esther’s eyes. “Would you like to rest upstairs? I can bring you some tea and something for your stomach?”
“Thank you,” Esther said weakly.
Rose escorted the girl up to her bedroom, which she shared with Peggy.
“I’d like to change my clothes first,” Esther announced. “Can you wait in the hall a minute?”
Rose nodded, and stood outside the girl’s door. Once Esther gave the go-ahead, Rose returned and sat at the edge of the bed.
“I feel a lot better now,” Esther said.
Rose patted her hand. “That’s good. It was probably motion sickness from the car, like Peggy said. I used to get horribly nauseated on car rides, especially when I was pregnant with my boys.”
Esther stared intently at Rose for a beat. “Maybe it was the car,” she said, before looking away. “But I feel much better now. To be honest, I think it was my girdle.” Esther gestured to her lower abdomen. “It was too tight. It made me sick.”
“That can happen,” Rose said. Then she remembered how Esther had fallen asleep several nights in a row before the sun went down, how she yawned through breakfast the next morning even after a full night’s sleep.
But she held off asking more questions. She knew from raising her own children that sometimes it was best to say nothing, ask nothing, and wait.
The truth would usually bubble up like oil from the ground.
Esther shook her head. “I just wanted to look pretty. Thinner. I thought maybe more boys would dance with me. But now I’ve ruined everyone’s evening.”
“No one’s night has been ruined.”
Esther shrugged as if she wasn’t so sure. “If I had just accepted that I am what I am, then I might have had a better time. I’d be out dancing instead of in bed.”
“Well, then you learned a lesson you can apply to the rest of your life,” Rose said. “And that is a greater gift than one fun night out dancing.”
Esther looked back at her with softened eyes. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
“You are beautiful, Esther, inside and out,” Rose added, placing her hand on top of hers. “And the lucky man who falls in love with you will love you whether you wear a girdle or not, because you are the one and only you.”
“Thanks.” Esther reached out to hug her, holding her tighter and longer than Rose expected. Just as she did with her boys once upon a time, Rose let Esther pull away first.
“You know, I think I’ll have that tea now,” she said, her cheeks already pinker in hue. “And maybe, I realize I didn’t eat much before the dance, a few biscuits or crackers?”
Rose happily took Esther’s order and descended to the kitchen, her steps keeping beat with the music emanating from the parlor, The Glenn Miller Orchestra on the record player. She heard the unmistakable sound of foot stomping, heels on wood floors. The girls were dancing after all.
The night was still very much young.
Rose would make tea and gather some biscuits for Esther, and prepare some snacks and drinks for the other girls. They would make the best of the evening.
Maybe she would even dance a bit too.
Hank—wherever he was—would want her to have a few happy, carefree moments, even if her heart ached with worry.