Nora clenched and unclenched her fists. The strength of conviction surged through her. Not only could she do this, she absolutely would do this. And when it was all over, her parents would be proud and Anna would be in awe of her and what she had accomplished.

  She threw open the closet doors, pulled down her suitcase, and hoisted it onto the bed. Tonight she would begin to pack. Tomorrow she would tell her parents she was going away, and she’d be in touch when she could.

  Mary wiped her sweaty palms on her pretty red-and-white-checkered gingham dress as Mrs. Platt passed by her with the stack of graded exams for the second time.

  “Nice job, Penelope. You showed an excellent grasp of the subject.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Platt.”

  Mrs. Platt returned to the front of the room and faced the class. “I have to say, I was impressed with your test results. It appears as though you learned something this quarter, after all.”

  Mary stared at the wooden desk. Her heart sank. She was the only student without a graded paper in front of her.

  “Mary Trask?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I’d like to see you after class.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Class dismissed.”

  Slowly and with trepidation, Mary gathered her books and trudged to the teacher’s desk. “Mrs. Platt—”

  She held up a hand. “I’ll do the talking, young lady.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mary mumbled.

  “I have to say, I’m very disappointed in you. I know you read Great Expectations. I saw your mother at bridge club and she told me how diligently you’d been studying. I don’t understand it. This paper,” she waved it in the air between them, “would lead me to believe you’d barely opened the book.”

  Mary caught a glimpse of the big red “F” at the top of the paper and gasped. “Mrs. Platt, I did read the book, I swear. It took me forever, but I finished it. Heck, I could tell you everything that happened in that book. I studied and worked hard. I…”

  She lowered her head and wrung her hands. “I don’t do well on tests. I don’t know why. The words don’t look right on the page. I have trouble reading the questions. Then, when I think I do understand what you’re asking, I know all the answers in my head, but when I try to write them down, it seems like everything comes out wrong.”

  To her mortification, tears formed on her lashes. Without a high school diploma, she’d never amount to anything. She’d have to marry Sam or someone like him.

  “What are we going to do about this, Mary? I know you often struggle. But this exam? This one is completely beyond salvaging.”

  Mary shook her head. The lump in her throat was so big, she didn’t think she could speak around it. “Please, don’t tell my mother,” she choked out. “I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Put your books down and look at me.”

  Reluctantly, Mary did as she was told.

  “I’m going to ask you the same question that was on this test. I want you to stand right there, without opening the book, and tell me the answer.”

  She straightened up. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Who is Pip in love with, and is it a case of requited, or unrequited, love?”

  Mary smiled. “Pip’s in love with Miss Havisham’s adopted daughter, Estella, who, as it turns out, is really the escaped convict Magwitch’s daughter, but we don’t find that out until much later.” She warmed to the topic. “For most of the book, Estella treats Pip badly. She looks down on him. Then she marries Bentley Drummle, even though Pip doesn’t want her to, but he dies and she becomes a widow. Pip meets her again after Bentley dies.” Mary began to pace in front of the teacher’s desk.

  “This is where it gets confusing. In the version we read, Dickens gives the impression that Pip is going to get the girl. But when he first wrote Great Expectations, he made it clear that Estella remarries someone else, leaving Pip in the lurch. Dickens rewrote the ending and changed it to a ‘hopefully ever after’ kind of thing after he got guff for writing such a miserably unhappy conclusion. Personally, I think the first ending was more appropriate, considering how unhappy the first two-thirds of the book are. I mean, the change in tone in the newer ending kind of doesn’t fit with the rest of the book and waters down the moral of the story.”

  When Mary came to a stop, the room was so quiet that the only sound was the second hand marking time on the wall clock. Mrs. Platt stared at her, open-mouthed. “D-did I say something wrong?”

  Mrs. Platt blinked. “No. No, Mary, you said everything exactly right. In fact, you answered the question in a more detailed and nuanced fashion than most college students.”

  “Oh.”

  For several moments, Mrs. Platt stared out the classroom window. More than once, she shook her head and tutted. Finally, she placed Mary’s exam paper on the desk and took out her red pen. With a single slash mark, she put a diagonal line through the “F.” Then she wrote in big, bold strokes at the top of the page.

  I have given this student a follow-up oral exam. From this exam, it is clear that Mary has a full and above-average understanding of the themes and concepts in this novel. As a result, I have re-evaluated and re-graded this exam. This student deserves an “A.” She signed the note and beamed at Mary.

  “Gosh. Thank you, Mrs. Platt. Thank you. Thank you.” Mary ran behind the desk and hugged her around the neck.

  “Now, now. That’s enough of that.” She pushed her glasses farther up onto the bridge of her nose. “I’m still going to need the principal’s approval to make such a drastic change to a grade.”

  “Oh.” Mary felt the air rush out of her lungs.

  “Don’t worry. Principal Wegman has always trusted my judgment before. I doubt this time will be any different.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome, Mary. I knew something had to be terribly wrong. You’re too smart to turn in an exam like this.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Mary watched out the window as the school bell rang and the students piled out of the building, spilled onto the sidewalk, and dispersed in pairs and small groups. She saw Mrs. Platt approach Principal Wegman, who was standing on the top landing, presiding over the end of the school day. The discussion was brief but animated.

  Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

  Mary lost sight of Mrs. Platt as she walked back through the heavy front doors, and she skedaddled away from the window to stand at attention once again in front of the desk. The classroom door opened seconds later.

  “Principal Wegman wasn’t very happy with the situation, but he agreed to the grade change.”

  Mary let out a breath and whooped with joy, which garnered her a raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s just… My graduation depended on that grade. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t passed.”

  “I don’t know if your plans include college or higher education of any kind, but I strongly recommend you find yourself a reading tutor over the summer.”

  “Yes, ma’am. May I go now?”

  “Yes, Mary. You’re dismissed.”

  She let herself out of the classroom, scurried out of the building, and continued down the sidewalk until she was off school property. Then she dropped her books, spun in a circle, and did a victory dance. She was going to graduate on time, after all.

  “Hey. Everything okay?”

  Mary’s hand flew to her chest. “Lord have mercy. You nearly scared me to death.”

  “I’m sorry,” Phyllis said. “I waited for you by the big tree. When you didn’t come out for so long, I got worried.”

  “That’s all right.” Mary picked up her books and the two girls fell into step together.

  “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

  Mary explained about the exam and the grading change.

  “Wow. Lucky you. I wish some of my teachers would do something like that for me…” Phyllis stopped walking.

  “What is it?” Mary followed her line of sight down the street, where Phyllis’s mother was crumpled on the sidewalk in front of their house. Her wailing was loud enough that Mary could hear her, even from this distance.

  “No. No, no, no.” Phyllis broke into a run, and Mary followed close on her heels.

  In this time of war, everyone knew what a tableau like this meant. They reached Phyllis’s mother as several neighbors knelt on the ground next to her, trying in vain to console her. She held a telegram loosely in her hand, and Phyllis liberated it from her grasp.

  She covered her mouth with a hand as a sob burst forth.

  Mary didn’t have to ask what the telegram said. She knew. “Phyllis? What can I do to help?”

  Phyllis shook her head. She fell to her knees on the sidewalk and took her mother in her arms. Together, they rocked and cried. The sound pierced the peacefulness of the tree-lined street.

  Mary tried to decide whether she should stay or go. Phyllis seemed to have forgotten that she was here. The front door was wide open. After a moment, she came to a decision. Gently, she rubbed Phyllis’s shoulder and spoke into her ear. “I’m going to make you both some hot tea. Bring your mother and come inside.”

  Mary’s mother wouldn’t be happy that she would be late getting home, but when she explained why, she was certain her mother would understand.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Are you going to come inside, or are you going to continue to wear out the sidewalk?” Bill stood with his arms folded in the front doorway of their parents’ house.

  Nora’s face reddened. She should’ve known he’d be there and that he’d be only too happy to make her look like a fool if he thought he could get away with it. She stalked up the steps and brushed past him without a word.

  “Nice to see you too,” he muttered, as she passed him.

  Her parents were seated in the living room. They were listening so intently to the news on the radio, she doubted they’d even heard her come in.

  “Mor, Far.”

  “Shh.” Her mother waved her away.

  “They sunk six German U-boats today, and it looks as though we’re about to win surrender in North Africa,” her father said. “Finally, things are starting to go our way.”

  “It’s about time,” Bill said.

  Nora helped herself to a glass of water from the kitchen. When she returned to the living room, Edward R. Murrow was signing off in his characteristic fashion.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Nora’s father turned off the radio.

  “I came to say goodbye.”

  “You going somewhere?” Bill asked.

  She ignored him and instead addressed her parents. “I expect I’ll be gone for a long stretch, but I’ll write or call when I can.”

  “Your brother asked you a question. Where are you going?”

  “Away.”

  “Don’t be vague, dear. Coy doesn’t suit you.”

  Nora frowned at her mother. “This is the opportunity I told you about—the job I accepted. It’s not a question of being evasive, Mor. I’m simply following orders.”

  “Orders?” Bill scoffed. “What, you’re in the military now?”

  “No. But I’m not going to sit around like a coward and hide from doing my duty.”

  He took a menacing step in her direction, and their father stepped between them.

  “We’ve been through this before. Your brother is coming to work for me. I need him. End of discussion. That’s enough from you.”

  Nora’s nostrils flared. “You’re right, Far. It is enough. I didn’t come here to fight. I came because I thought you’d like to know I was leaving and I wanted to tell you in person. Also, it won’t be necessary for you to come to graduation, since I can’t be in two places at once.”

  “You won’t be able to come back to accept your diploma?”

  “No, Mor.”

  “But you’ve worked so hard to earn it.”

  “I have. I expect they’ll find a way to send it to me.”

  “How can they send it to you if you can’t tell them where you are?” Bill had retreated to the other side of the room, where he stood with his arms crossed, glaring at her like a petulant teenager, which, of course, he was.

  Again, Nora ignored him. “Anyway, I’d best be going. I have to finish packing.”

  “You’re leaving so soon? But you just got here.”

  “I’m sorry, Mor. There’s so much to do.”

  “You’ll write if you can?”

  “She said she would, dear.”

  “I will.” Nora hugged her mother and father. She breathed deeply to memorize the scent of her perfume and his aftershave. It likely would be a very long time before she’d see them again. “Bill.” She nodded at him as she took her leave.

  When she arrived home, Anna was sitting on her doorstep. “Hi.”

  “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been thinking. The truth is, I felt badly for the way I reacted to your news last time I saw you. If you’re going away to God-only-knows-where and you’re happy about that… You’re still happy about it?”

  “I am.”

  “Then I’m happy for you.”

  Anna looked up at her from under long lashes, and Nora’s heart stood still.

  “When do you leave? Do you know yet?”

  It took several seconds before Nora’s brain registered Anna’s question. “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? So soon?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Did they tell you where you’re going? I mean, I know you can’t tell me, but at least you know, right?”

  “No.”

  “No, you can’t tell me, or no, you don’t know?”

  “Both.”

  “Gee whiz. That’s crazy.” Anna stood. “In that case, it’s a good thing I stopped by when I did. Otherwise, I might’ve missed you.” She handed Nora a package wrapped in a brown paper bag.

  “What’s this?”

  “I know my friend. She’s been keeping a diary since we were old enough to read and write. I thought she might need this.”

  Nora smiled. “Ever-thoughtful Anna.”

  “Open it.”

  Nora tore open the paper. The smell of fine leather assaulted her senses. “Oh, my.” She ran her fingers over the soft cover and the embossed gold initials in the bottom left corner, N.L. She swallowed hard and regarded her friend. “This is too much. It must’ve cost you a week’s salary.”

  “Pshaw. It’s the least I can do. Consider it my contribution to the war effort.”

  Nora laughed. “Well, it’s very thoughtful of you.” She pulled the leather strap free of the buckle and fanned the blank parchment pages. “There are enough sheets in here to last me the rest of my life.”

  “I’m planning for your future. I expect those pages to be filled with fascinating adventures. And I want to hear about each and every one when you can tell me.” Anna leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  Nora blushed to the roots of her hair.

  “Be safe for me. Do great things. Always remember me.”

  As if I could ever forget you. “I will.”

  Anna sashayed down the street, looked back, and waved. Nora watched after her until she disappeared from sight. She held the journal up to her face and inhaled deeply. Then she held the journal to her chest and hugged it tight. Instantly, it had become her most favorite and treasured possession. She wasn’t positive she was allowed to chronicle the things she’d be doing, but surely she could record her own personal story in these pages. After all, Anna was counting on her.

  “Mary, I wanted you to know that they’ve changed the color of the label on the penicillin package. It’s the one with the red outline.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” She was grateful that Doc never made her feel stupid for having trouble reading the labels on the medicine bottles. They’d worked out a system. He would tell her what color label or what bottle shape held which medicine, and she would stock the shelves accordingly. “By the way, Doc, we got that cough serum in that you’ve been waiting for.”

  “Good. Mrs. Meriweather will be glad to hear. She’s been waiting on that prescription going on two weeks now.”

  Mary finished stocking the antibiotics shelf and stowed her lab coat in her locker. She grabbed the duster, unlatched the half door and exited the pharmacy station.

  Unlike Mildred, who worked up front, Mary didn’t mind dusting the shelves. In truth, she enjoyed the mindless work. It gave her time to daydream.

  Most often, she imagined being one of those big movie stars she saw in the pictures—Ingrid Bergman, or Ava Gardner, Katharine Hepburn, or Gene Tierney. Of course, it was only a dream. After all, she’d never be able to read scripts well enough to play a part.

  What are you going to do if you don’t marry Sam? As much as she loved and respected Doc, she wouldn’t…couldn’t…spend the rest of her life working behind a drugstore counter. Somewhere out there were jobs for girls like her—jobs that weren’t dependent on her ability to read and write.

  Already, she’d crossed the usual suspects off the list. She couldn’t be a secretary or a teacher, and if she were going to take a retail job at a department store, then she might as well stay here at Meyer’s, where she was comfortable and Doc helped her compensate for her shortcomings.

  Something will come up. You’ll see. Keep your eyes open. Graduation was next week. She could work here until she had a better option.

  In the meantime, she needed to figure out what to do about ever-persistent Sam. She’d been avoiding him for weeks. Finally, to get him off her back, she’d agreed to let him take her out to dinner after graduation. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

  She caught the deodorant can as it teetered on the shelf. Pay attention, Mary Elizabeth. You almost made a mess. You can deal with what to do about Sam later.

  Pennsylvania Station bustled with boisterous reunions, soldiers and civilians hustling to and from designated tracks, heartfelt goodbyes, and the sound of train whistles. Nora turned in a circle. General Groves’s letter said only that a representative would meet her at the station. She wondered if the general had been to Penn Station. It was enormous. Without knowing her destination, it was impossible to know where to wait.