the lobby with Lieutenant Clarke, and she left the two men with their mouths open behind her. She had won Rebecca Clarke's heart forever that day. She knew that as long as she lived, she would never forget the tireless redhead, helping wounded men, treating bums. She had given up her private room to four of them, and had wheeled the cots in herself and made them with whatever sheets she could find, or steal, from other beds if she had to.
The director of the hospital thanked her himself that afternoon. And they found her a folding cot that she set up in a closet to get some sleep. They had sicker people to take care of now, people who needed them more, and she felt guilty taking any of their attention. She stayed on to help the next day, and they were told, not surprisingly, that the President had declared war on Japan on Monday. There was a cheer in the hospital when it was announced. And on Tuesday, she checked into the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, and called her parents. She had already called them once before to tell them she was all right, but now she wanted to let them know she was going to try and get home as soon as possible.
The hotel promised to try and get a cabin for her on the
She had no sympathy for him at all, she thought he had behaved abominably. The only thing he was interested in was milking her story one more time. It was disgusting.
He came to see her that afternoon, and told her that the Pentagon had promised him a seat on a military flight to San Francisco in a few days, and he could arrange one for her too, since she was practically a national hero now, but she was adamant that she didn't want to go anywhere with him.
“What difference does it make?” He looked annoyed at how difficult she was being. It would look a lot better to the press if they went home together, although he could still explain it if she didn't. He could even claim that she was suddenly nervous about flying, or blame it on her health. But she was not amenable to any of his excuses.
“I've got real bad news for you, Desmond. The whole world is not watching you, or me, they're thinking about the war we just got ourselves into, though you might not have noticed.”
‘Think of what you could do now for the war effort,” he said hopefully, thinking of the publicity opportunities for him, and for his airplanes. But as far as she was concerned, she had just done it, for three days at the naval hospital, not that he understood that, although Admiral Kimmel had personally thanked her.
“I'll do exactly what I want to do,” she said unpleasantly, “and you're not going to advertise, trade, announce, use, or exploit it. You got that? We're finished. I completed my contract.”
“You most certainly did not,” he said smoothly, and she stared at him in disbelief.
“Are you kidding? I almost killed myself for you.”
“You did it for yourself, for your own glory,” he corrected.
“I did it because I love flying and I felt I owed it to you. I thought doing the tour for you was the honorable thing to do. Not to mention the fact that you said you'd sue me if I didn't, and I figured my parents didn't need that headache.”
“And do they now? What's changed?” Nick was right to the end. Desmond was vicious.
“I flew eleven thousand miles, I did my damnedest, I went down with your goddamn lousy plane, and managed to live forty-five days on an island the size of a dinner plate, while starving to death, I might add. And I watched my best friend die in my arms. Isn't that enough? I'd say it is. And I'll bet a judge would.”
“A contract is a contract,” he said coolly. “And yours said you would fly fifteen thousand miles across the Pacific in my plane.”
“Your plane went up like a matchbook.”
“I have others. And your contract said you would do unlimited publicity and endorsements.”
“We're at war, Desmond. No one's interested. And whether they are or not, I'm not going to do it. Sue me.”
“I might. Maybe you'll give it some thought on the way back.”
“I wouldn't waste my time thinking about it. I'll call my lawyer when I get back… for a number of reasons,” she said pointedly.
“We'll have to discuss that. By the way, you mentioned Billy in rather touching terms a little while ago… was that your
“You understood me perfectly, you sonofabitch. And if you're talking adultery, why don't you discuss it with Nancy Firestone. She's very clear about calling herself your mistress. I already mentioned that to my attorney.”
For once, he blanched, and she was pleased to have gotten him upset for a change.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” He was furious with Nancy for talking to Cassie.
“Just ask Nancy. I'm sure shell explain it to you. She was very direct with me.”
His eyes told her he hated her, but she didn't care. She never wanted to see him again after Honolulu.
She spent the next two and a half weeks volunteering to help at the naval hospital again and on the hospital ship
And when the
“It was an honor to meet you,” Rebecca Clarke said sincerely, “I hope you get home safely.”
“So do I,” Cassie said honestly. She was anxious to get back to Illinois to see her parents, and to see a lawyer and find out how she could best get out of all her obligations to Desmond.
She was relieved to see that no members of the press had come to see her off. But Desmond had left for San Francisco by military plane the week before, so they hadn't bothered. She was happy not to have flown with him even if this did take longer and was potentially more risky. They were traveling by convoy to ensure greater safety.
Lieutenant Clarke left her on the ship, and they set sail an hour later. Everyone was anxious about the trip, and afraid that the Japanese would come back and sink them. They had complete blackouts every night, and everyone had to wear their life jackets day and night, which was very unnerving. There were a lot of children on the ship, which made it noisy and stressful for the other passengers, but families who had relatives on the mainland were anxious to get away from Hawaii. It was too dangerous there now. Everyone felt sure they would be attacked again at any moment. The
The ships were very quiet as they zigzagged across the Pacific to avoid submarines. There were no parties at night, no one was in the mood. They just wanted to get to San Francisco safely. And Cassie was amazed at how long it took. After flying everywhere all her life, traveling by ship seemed endless and incredibly boring. She hoped she never had to do it again, and the entire ship cheered as they came through the Golden Gate and into the port of San Francisco five days later.
She was even more surprised when she stepped off the gangplank, carrying her one small bag, and saw her father. She had traveled under the name of Cassandra Williams, and only a handful of people had realized who she was and talked to her. The rest of the time, she kept to herself and minded her own business. She had a lot of thinking to do, and some quiet mourning. But when she saw her father, relief turned to excitement. And her mother was right behind him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked with wide eyes that filled instantly with tears. They were all crying as they hugged each other, her mother more than anyone, but Cassie and her father too. It was the reunion she had thought of a million times on the island. And then as they hugged and talked, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Desmond. He had set up an entire press conference to greet her. There were at least eighty members of the press to welcome her and ask her questions. But as Cassie noticed them, she saw her father's mouth set in a hard line. He was having none of this. Desmond Williams had gone far enough, and he would go no further.
