Lone eagle

Everything was suddenly different. They had taken down their walls.

“Is something wrong?” her mother asked, looking panicked because Kate looked as though someone had died. Kate shook her head and realized something had, her freedom. She was no longer just a girl in love with a man. She was part of a larger whole, and she felt as though she could not function without him. The past two days had changed everything for her.

“No,” Kate said in a small voice, but she was unconvincing.

“Are you sure? Did you have an argument before he left?” That happened to people sometimes, out of pure tension.

“No, he was wonderful,” and with that, Kate burst into tears and dove into her mother's arms, while her father watched them, looking worried. “What if he gets killed, Mom?… what if he never comes back?” Suddenly all the passion, all the fear, all the longing, all the dreams and needs and excitement and disappointment fused into one giant explosion, like a bomb that had been dropped on her by the fact that he was leaving and going back to England.

She could not bear the thought of losing someone she loved again. Just fearing it made her feel like a child.

“We just have to pray that he does come back, sweetheart. That's all we can do. If he's meant to, he'll come back. You have to be brave now.” Her mother spoke gently, looking sadly over Kate's shoulder at her husband, with eyes filled with regret.

“I don't want to be brave,” Kate sobbed. “I want him to come home… I want the war to be over.

” She sounded like a child, and her parents ached for her. It was terrible, but half the world was facing the same agonies she was. She was not unique in her sorrow. In fact, she was luckier than most. Others had already lost the men they loved, their sons and brothers and husbands. And Kate still had Joe. For now.

She sat down on the couch with them finally, and regained her composure. Her mother handed her a handkerchief, and her father hugged her. They were both sorry for her. And after her mother had tucked her into bed that night, like a little girl, she went back to her bedroom to her husband.

She closed the door with a sigh, and sat down at her dressing table.

“This is exactly what I didn't want for her,” Elizabeth said sadly. “I didn't want her to love him like this. It's too late now. They're not engaged, they're not married. He's made no promises. They have nothing. They just love each other.”

“That's a lot, Liz. Maybe it's all they need.