It took them half an hour to get back to the party, and they were both surprised to find that no one had missed them, or even noticed they were gone.

“I guess we could have stayed longer,” Kate said, smiling at him, as he handed her a mug of coffee, and helped himself to a glass of wine. He very rarely drank, because he was always flying. But he knew he wouldn't be that night.

Joe knew he couldn't have kept her away from the party any longer. He was not sure he trusted himself with her. What he felt for her was too powerful and too confusing, and he was almost relieved when her parents came to find her, because they were leaving. Clarke Jamison was delighted to see Joe.

“What a pleasant surprise, Mr. Allbright. When did you come back from California?”

“Yesterday,” Joe smiled, after shaking hands with Kate's parents. “I'm just here for a few days. I was going to call you.”

“I wish you would. I'm still hoping to catch a ride with you one of these days. Maybe next time you're here.”

“That's a promise,” Joe assured him. He thought they were very nice people. They left Kate alone with him for a few minutes, to say goodbye, and went to thank their hosts, who were old friends. And then Joe turned to her, with an odd expression. There was something he wanted to ask her, he'd been thinking about it all evening. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate, or if she'd have time once she started Radcliffe. But he had decided to ask her anyway, he had already told himself that it would be safe for both of them, which was something of a delusion. But above all things, he didn't want to mislead her, or tempt himself more than he could tolerate. He was grateful now for the distance between them, physically at least. “Kate,” he suddenly looked shy again, and she saw it. “What would you think about writing to me from time to time? I'd love to hear from you.”

“Would you?” she asked, looking surprised. After all he'd said about not getting married and not having kids, she knew he wasn't pursuing her. She was almost sure now that all he wanted from her was friendship. In some ways, that felt safe to her, in others, she was disappointed. She was very attracted to him. And he had said nothing to indicate that he reciprocated those feelings. Just from talking to him, Kate had guessed that Joe was a master at concealing what he felt.

“I'd like to hear about what you're doing,” he said benignly, which was a cover for the unrest she caused in him. But he knew enough not to show it, at least not to her. “I'll tell you all about my test flights in California, if that's not too boring.”

“I'd love it.” And from the sound of it, she could pass the letters on to her father. He'd enjoy them too.

Joe scribbled his address on a piece of paper, and handed it to her. “I'm not much of a writer, but I'll do my best. I'd like to keep in touch, and hear how school is going.” Joe hoped he sounded, if anything, more like an old friend, or an uncle, anything but a suitor or a potential husband. He had been extremely honest with her, or so she thought. But there were some things he had failed to mention to her, like how drawn he felt to her, and how much he feared that. If he let himself, he might lose himself to her, and the one thing he knew was that he would never let that happen. If he could channel their feelings into friendship, there would be no risk and no danger for either of them. But whatever happened, he knew he didn't want to lose her. This time, he wanted to stay in touch with her.

“You have my father's card with our address at home. And as soon as I know it, I'll send you my address at Radcliffe.”

“Write to me as soon as you have it.” That meant he would be hearing from her as soon as he got back to California, which was exactly what he wanted. He hadn't even left her yet, and he was already hungry for more of her. It was a terrifying situation, but one he couldn't seem to keep away from. He was pulled toward her like a light in the darkness, a warm place he wanted to be near.

“Have a safe trip back,” she said, hesitating for the merest instant, as their eyes met and held and volumes were said without words, which was all Joe had wanted. He could never find the right words anyway.

A few minutes later, she walked over the dunes to meet her parents, and disappeared from sight as he watched her go. She stopped at the top, and waved at him, as he waved back. Her last sight of him was standing tall, his eyes fixed on hers, with a serious expression. And after she was gone, he walked slowly down the beach again alone.





3

THE FIRST WEEKS AT SCHOOL were frantic for Kate. She had books to buy, and classes to attend, professors to meet, an advisor to work out her schedule with, and a house full of girls to get acquainted with. It was a huge adjustment for her, but within days, she knew she loved it. She didn't even bother to go home on the weekends, much to her mother's dismay. But at least, she tried to make an effort to call them from time to time.

She'd been at school for three weeks before she finally wrote to Joe. It wasn't that she hadn't had time before that, but she had wanted to wait until she had some interesting tales to tell him. And by the time she sat down at her desk, on a Sunday afternoon, she had plenty of stories about school. She told him about the other girls, her professors, her classes, the food. She had never been as happy in her life as she was at Radcliffe. It was her first taste of freedom, and she was loving it.

She didn't tell him about the Harvard boys she'd met the week before, it seemed inappropriate, and was not something she wanted to share with him. There was one, a junior, Andy Scott, whom she liked very much, but he paled in comparison to Joe, who had become her standard of perfection for all men. No one else was as tall or as handsome, or as strong, or as interesting, or as accomplished, or as exciting. He was a tough act to compare anyone to, and Andy looked like water to wine, when she compared him to Joe Allbright. But he was fun to be with, and he was captain of the Harvard swimming team, which impressed the other freshman girls.

Instead, she told Joe everything she was doing, and how happy she was there. Her letter, when he received it, was excited and exuberant and ebullient, all the things he loved most about her. And he sat down immediately when he got the letter, and answered her, telling her about his latest designs, and his latest victory over a previously insoluble problem. He told her of his most recent test flights. But he avoided telling her of a boy who had died the day before, in a test flight over Nevada. He had been scheduled to do the flight himself, but had reassigned it so he could attend a meeting. It was Joe who had had to call the boy's wife, and he was still feeling depressed about it. But he kept his letter to her light and filled with as much news and excitement as he could muster. And when he finished it, he was frustrated with himself. His letter seemed so dull in comparison to hers, his gift with words so much less facile. But he sent the letter to her anyway, and wondered how long it would take her to answer.

She got his letter exactly ten days after she had sent hers, and sat down to write to him over the weekend. She turned down a date with Andy Scott, so she could stay in her room and write Joe a long, newsy letter, and all of her roommates told her she was crazy. But her heart was already engaged by the flyer in California. She didn't tell them who he was, or even much about him. She just said he was a friend, and told Andy that she had a headache. And nothing in her letter indicated that she had anything but feelings of friendship for him. She said nothing to give herself away, and she painted a number of amusing portraits for him, with clever words. He sat at his desk laughing out loud when he read her letter. Her description of college life was hilarious. She had a knack for seeing, and describing, the most outrageous elements of almost every situation. And he loved hearing from her.

Their letters went back and forth through the fall, and grew more serious as the war continued to worsen in Europe. They exchanged opinions and concerns, and she respected his views on the situation. He continued to believe that America would enter the war at any moment, and he was thinking of going to England again, to consult with the RAF. He said Charles had gone to Washington, and to meet with Henry Ford, who shared his point of view about the war. And then he attempted, at least, to amuse her as she did him. He was beginning to spend his days anticipating her letters, and anxious for them to come.

It was two months later, the Tuesday before the Thanksgiving weekend, when she got a phone call in the house she lived in on campus, and assumed it was her parents. She was going home the next day, and her mother probably wanted to know what time to expect her. They were having guests for Thanksgiving, and it was going to be a busy weekend. She had seen Andy for a quick cup of coffee the day before, and he had told her he was going home to New York over Thanksgiving but would call her from there. She had had dinner with him once or twice over the past two months, but it hadn't gone anywhere. She was far too intrigued with her exchange of letters with Joe, to be interested in a college junior. Joe was far more exciting than any man she'd ever met.

“Hello?” she said, expecting to hear her mother's voice, and was startled to hear Joe on a remarkably clear connection from California. The girl who had taken the call had spoken to the operator, but she hadn't bothered to tell Kate that the call was long distance and not from her mother. It was the first time he had ever called. “What a surprise!” she said, blushing intensely, but fortunately he couldn't see it. “Happy Thanksgiving, Joe.”