Phil turned his attention back to Marilyn. “And then what happened?” She took a sip of her drink and began.[1]

“Well, I threw myself into my job as a stewardess with American Airlines. I had moved to DC to live with some of the other stewardesses. I enjoy the work because it allows me to travel and see the world for a while before starting law school.

“Mind if I have a cigarette?” she asked.

“By all means, but here. Let me—”

Phil reached into his coat and pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes. He lit one for her and another for himself.

Marilyn blew a long stream of smoke up toward the ornate ceiling. “I thought traveling all over the country as a stewardess might allow me to forget you.”

She took another sip and directly met his gaze. “Not a chance,” she said. Then she smiled. “You’ve always had my heart.”

Hearing those kind words allowed Phil’s emotions to settle. Initially, he didn’t know whether to blow up, be angry, get up and walk away, or say some of the nasty thoughts he had contemplated about her. When she’d broken off their relationship, he’d felt greatly discouraged, especially during lulls between battles in France and Germany.

But he had a job to do over there, and he had done it—despite the costs. Now all that was in the past. He took a sip of scotch and a deep drag on his cigarette.

“Why did you decide to see me tonight?” he asked. That was all he could think to say.

“I called your mother a few weeks back to see how you were doing. I told her everything that had happened to me, and she told me such stories about you. Your wound. Your promotions. Your courage and bravery and medals.

“I didn’t doubt a word. She told me you were home, and you were recuperating. That you were finally seeing other girls. I’m happy for you, Phil. Glad you survived the war and you’re doing well. I really am.”

She took a sip of her drink and continued. “I told your mother I couldn’t get you out of my mind, and I wanted to see you. To face you and tell you what happened.”

She looked up from her drink and turned toward him. “I wanted to apol ogize to you face-to-face. Not in a letter. Not over the phone. I told her I was hoping you’d at least hear me out, even if you couldn’t forgive me. She told me when you’d be home and told me she’d arrange for us to get together.”

Marilyn shrugged. “So that’s it. I was hoping you’d hear my apology. I was praying you might be able to forgive me, but if you can’t—and I would completely understand if you couldn’t—then at the very least, we might share a last meal and conversation. That perhaps we could be friends from here on out. You’ll remember that that’s the Friendship Oak tradition.”

He chuckled, remembering the massive oak in Gulfport under which they’d met.

“So, that’s my confession, and that’s why I’m here.”

He sensed a cacophony of emotions in himself, but most of all, he felt a great deal of warmth and sympathy for Marilyn. She was as beautiful and sensitive and wonderful and unique as he had remembered. He wondered if he hadn’t always secretly hoped that she would come back one day. Never in a thousand years did he think that might happen.

But, before he knew it, his hand reached out and took hers. He felt his eyes misting and his lips trembling. He looked down and felt her squeeze his hand.

“Thanks for being here tonight,” he said. “It’s great to see you again.”

Phil lifted his head, and their eyes met. “And yes, I’m willing to forgive you. I am.” He tried to blink back tears.

She took both of his hands in hers. “Your mother made us dinner reservations at the Skyway.—just in case.”

“The fine dining room?”

She nodded. “For dinner and dancing. My treat.” She chuckled and blushed. “Well, actually, my daddy’s treat.”

Phil reached for his wallet, but the bartender leaned over. “Your drinks are on the Peabody, sir. Thanks for your service.” The uniformed barkeep smiled warmly.

“I appreciate your support,” Phil said.

“And congratulations on the reunion, you two.”

The evening was indeed remarkable. Phil and Marilyn shared a delicious dinner in the Skyway Room and a wonderful time dancing to a live big band in the adjoining Plantation Room.[2]

They enjoyed dancing the rumba, the foxtrot, the jive, and even the swing. He loved holding her in his arms during the slow dances, relishing the feel of her curves, and smelling her scent.

When he dropped Marilyn at a friend’s house, they kissed for the first time in almost two years on the front porch.

As he walked back to the car, he shook his head at the turn of events.

Marilyn was back in his life.[3]

~~~~~

[1] Larimore, At First Light, 296.

[2] The original Peabody Hotel existed from 1869 to 1932. The “new” Peabody opened in 1934 in time for Phil’s 9th birthday party and served as the business and social center of the Mid-South throughout the 1930s and 1940s, hosting one of only three national live radio broadcasts. The Plantation Roof and adjoining Skyway Room were popular spots for big band music—that was broadcast nationwide on CBS radio—and dancing to the sounds of Tommy Dorsey, Harry James, and the Andrews Sisters.

[3] Larimore, At First Light, 296-298.

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