Dash meets Joseph (who didn’t make the cut eventually)

This is a pretty long section – really, it’s a bunch of pieces that I have stitched together to make them work. There might be a few things that don’t add up. I apologize for those. 

I knew from the beginning that Dash was the beautiful, vivacious sister, always happy to socialize, and a big fan of dancing, so I sent her, Dot, and Gus to Toronto’s Palais Royale for a special dance before Gus was to set off to training exercises. That’s where Dash meets a dashing young man named Joseph Morrison, who seemed fascinated with her. As time went on, Dot became quite uncomfortable with the idea of Joseph. She wasn’t sure if it was just because she could see her sister falling in love and couldn’t bear to lose her sister, or if there was something about Joseph himself that just didn’t work for her. So Dot, with her love for mysteries, decided to do a little investigating.

For a while, I had a feeling that under Joseph’s interest in Dash, Dot might have been more who he admired. I don’t think I put any of those sections in here, though. Joseph was the first one to teach Dash how to fly (before Uncle Bob showed up in the story’s next version). In the beginning, I planned to make poor Joseph a POW in Stalag Luft 3, which was the POW camp that eventually had a movie based on it called “The Great Escape”. Did you know that story, despite its Hollywood backing and stars, was based on Canadian and Norwegian heroes? There were no Americans at the camp at all. 

There’s another big change from this draft to the next – you’ll see it as soon as the subject of the Wrens comes up. 

Joseph eventually disappeared under the rest of the scenes on the cutting room floor, but I like him. Who knows? Maybe he’ll return another time, in another story.

 

Dash’s friend, Kiyoko gestured with her chin, smiling slightly. “Hey, who’s that? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.”

Dash’s gaze automatically travelled to Gus, standing on one side of the room with his back to her, talking with other boys. But everyone knew Gus, so Kiyoko wasn’t referring to him.

“Which one?”

“In the black jacket with the saucy fedora over one eye. See?” She spun back, facing away. “Oh! Don’t look, don’t look. He’s looking over here.”

Boys were Dash’s specialty, so she ignored Kiyoko’s warning and zeroed in on the new one. When he felt her gaze he looked directly at her—and he just about knocked her over with his killer smile. So Dash returned the favour. It was all just a game, after all.

“Sorry, dear,” she murmured to Kiyoko. “He’s on his way over with Alan.”

“Oh, you!”

“Good evening, ladies,” Alan said, winding smoothly into their little circle, followed by the mysterious new fellow.

Alan Brown was nice, Dash thought, but he also thought a great deal of himself. She had heard he had a very big crush on Kiyoko, though he wouldn’t dare say that out loud.

“Hello, Alan. And who have we here?”

The handsome stranger had removed his hat, and now he held Dash with his eyes, a thrilling confidence simmering within their brown depths. His hair was black as midnight, his cheeks gifted with a hint of dimples. Any other woman might have blushed under his scrutiny, maybe even felt a little wobbly in the knees, but Dash wasn’t any other woman, was she? She held out a hand, taking on the challenge.

He leaned over it, planting a subtle kiss on her knuckles and making her chuckle. What a ham. She could handle this.

“My, my,” Dash purred, barely containing a grin.

He was clearly enjoying himself as well. “Joseph Morrison,” rumbled between his lips. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss …?”

“Permit me to introduce you to Dash Wilson and Kiyoko Sasaki,” Alan said, watching Kiyoko. “Two of the most beautiful women in the city.”

Joseph bowed over Kiyoko’s hand as well, and Dash watched her friend’s cheeks darken with a blush.

“No need to tell me that, Brown,” Joseph said, his attention sliding back to Dash. “I can see that perfectly well.”

“Joseph just moved here with his parents. From Vancouver,” Alan told them as All the Things You Are swung through the hall. “He’s my neighbour. I thought he should come out and meet some folks.”

“I’m glad you did,” Dash said.

Kiyoko worked up the courage to enter the conversation. “Tell me, what do you do?”

“Well, I wasn’t much good at school, but I am an ace outside of it. My dad was a pilot, and he taught me. I’m a flyer. The best there is. I’ve already enlisted and should be heading off soon.”

The first word that hit Dash was pilot. Then he said enlisted and she couldn’t help herself. Her gaze returned to Gus, who turned just then and smiled at her.

“Why don’t the four of us cut ourselves a rug?” Joseph was saying. “You got your dancing shoes on?”

“Always,” Dash replied, wondering what on earth she was getting herself into. He waited while she drank the rest of her drink, then she and followed him onto the dancefloor. Once there, the music slowed, and the most wonderful thing happened: Joseph stopped showing off and became a normal, fun person to be around.

“So what do you think of this place?” she asked. “Does it compare to Vancouver?”

“I like it so far, but I haven’t seen much yet. There’s always something going on in Vancouver,” he assured her. “Music everywhere. Where do you think I learned how to be such a good dancer?”

“Ah, well, I thought it came from you choosing the right partner.”

That made him laugh. “Touché! What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was wondering what kind of things you liked to do. When you’re not dancing with the most handsome man in the room, I mean.” He winked, and she didn’t mind at all, because she knew it was all a charade. Joseph was a nice guy working overtime to impress a girl. It was nice to have attention lavished on her.

“I’m a mechanic,” she told him, surprising herself. She didn’t usually talk about that with people outside her family. And Gus, of course. “I didn’t go to school for it or anything, but I’m good with engines. I could fix your car better than anyone.”

He grinned. “Somehow I believe it.” Then he dropped his eyes, clearly admiring her. “But you are a long way from overalls, lady.”

“They didn’t seem suitable for tonight,” she replied. “You know, it intrigues me that you’re a pilot.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve always wanted to fly. I will one day.”

“Oh? You growing wings, Angel?”

“No, though I did try making some once. Long story not worth telling,” she said wryly. “But I am dreadfully envious of you, up there in the clouds.”

“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully, and for a fleeting moment she could almost see it in his eyes: the blue sky, the clouds, the freedom … “Yeah, it’s not bad up there.”

The song was ending, and Dash was suddenly parched. She backed away from Joseph, fanning her face with her hand. “I would die for a lemonade right now. Would you mind?”

He headed dutifully to the bar, making small—and no doubt charming—talk with people as he passed through the crowd. He paused, stopping to say something to Kiyoko and Alan, then moved on after a moment. Dash headed toward a nearby, unoccupied table, and she was standing there when Gus arrived, eyeing Joseph’s receding back.

“You met the debonair fly boy, I see.”

“I did. He’s quite a dancer.”

“You haven’t danced with me yet,” Gus replied, chin lifted.

“You haven’t asked.” She looked back toward the hall’s entrance. “I have to go rescue Dot from Eileen. She’ll keep her there all night. I’ve already had a dance, and she’s still—”

“Actually, you had two dances.”

Warmth flooded her chest. “You were paying attention.”

“Of course I was.”

She took his hand and dragged him away from the table. “Come on. Let’s save Dot.”

Understanding his role, Gus walked up behind Dot and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned, surprised, then grinned with relief.

“Good evening, Eileen,” he said to the other girl. “You’re looking lovely tonight. I hate to interrupt, but would you mind if I stole Dot away for a dance?”

Dash actually felt a little sorry for Eileen, watching Gus the way she was. As if she would do absolutely anything for him to dance with her, not Dot. Gus must have seen it too, because he merely gave a little bow and tucked Dot’s arm through his. They were halfway back to the table when Joseph approached, holding out a lemonade.

“There you are,” he said to Dash.

“Thank you,” she replied, taking a sip. “We had to rescue my sister from the town’s gossip.”

“Much appreciated,” Dot said, rolling her eyes.

“Your sister?” Joseph’s dark brow lifted as he looked at Gus. “And you’ve got them both to yourself?”

“I sure do. But hey,” Gus said, tilting his head back toward the entrance area, “Eileen’s looking for a dance partner.”

“Joseph, this is my sister, Dot.”

With such pale skin, it was always a simple matter to see her sister’s emotions on her face, and under Joseph’s inspection her cheeks blazed red. Dash glanced at Joseph, curious. Did she spy a different light in his eyes? Less teasing, more enticed? Wouldn’t that be fun!

He held out a hand. “Care to dance, Miss Dot?”

Dot’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Dash is the dancer. I am more of a watcher.”

Joseph winked. “You can lean on me.”

“Smooth,” Gus said under his breath as Joseph put an arm around Dot’s waist and helped her onto the floor.

“He sure is,” Dash agreed. “I like him.”

*

“Well? How is it?”

“It’s great,” Dot replied, not looking up from the new crossword book Dash had bought her.

Disappointment flickered, along with a little resentment. It wasn’t as if Dash had expected an overly enthusiastic answer, though. After all, she’d promised Dot she’d spend today with her, then Joseph had invited her out. He said he had something real special planned for this afternoon, so how could she say no? She hadn’t really considered that it might bother her sister, since they always spent time together. One afternoon couldn’t hurt. But from the stubborn scowl on Dot’s face, apparently it had.

“Come on.” She sat on the bed beside her. “We’ll do something tomorrow.”

The sisters were in new territory these days, and they were both uncomfortably aware of it. They had dated before, but those had been fleeting moments of fancy, nothing more. They’d come home afterward, giggling about what those dates had been like, deciding between them if the boy was worth their time or not. But Joseph was something altogether different, and they were both pussyfooting around how he fit in.

“If you want—”

“Just go!” Dot exclaimed, then she dropped her voice. “Just go. I’ll see you later.”

A movement caught Dash’s attention, and her heart leapt as she spotted Joseph’s shiny Chrysler rolling into their driveway.

“Are you sure?” she asked, even though she knew Dot would say yes.

“I’m sure.” She could see Dot was trying to smile, but hurt lingered in her eyes. “I’ll see you later. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine on my own.”

Dash leaned over and kissed her sister on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I know,” Dot muttered, returning her attention to the book on her lap.

Then Dash was flying down the stairs and out the front door, stopping short once she got there, trying to create the illusion that she was at least a little bit demure.

“Hey there, pretty lady.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Morrison.”

He crossed around in front of the car and opened the door for her. Just before she stepped inside, he held up on hand.

“I mean, if you’d rather inspect the engine first …”

She smiled primly. “No, thank you. It passed muster last time.”

“All right then. In you go.”

He closed her door then went around and climbed in, rubbing his hands with anticipation.

“So?” she said. “What’s this special thing you talked about?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

The engine started up, and as he put it into gear, she settled onto the soft, crushed velvet seat, listening absently for the rhythmic chug coming through the exhaust. His was the first Chrysler she’d driven in, and she liked it. He had told her it was a 1936 Airstream, Chrysler’s streamlined version of the Airflow, and while its shiny blue exterior, with its luxurious wheel skirts looked impressive, she loved the rosewood dashboard with its two square, gold dials and twin glove compartments even more. Everything about it just screamed elegance.

“I’m not good with surprises. Or patience,” she warned over the noise, though the idea had her almost giggling with excitement.

His shoulders lifted almost to his ears, and he gave her a hangdog expression. “Too bad.”

That made her laugh. She hung her arm out the window as he drove, letting the wind lift her hand then let it drop, up and down, up and down like a wing. From the corner of her eye, she could tell he was watching her.

“What?” she asked coyly.

“I can’t do it. I can’t keep a secret from you, Dash. Not this one, anyway.”

“Oh, good. Go on, then. Tell me what this is all about.”

“Your sister told me something about you.”

She arched her eyebrow, wondering when the two had had a chance to talk, and what could possibly have been said. “Oh?”

He lifted his chin toward the window, where her hand rode the wind. “She says you have always wanted to fly.”

“More than anything.”

That suave smile of confidence drew lines in the tanned skin beside his dark eyes. For a split second, she forgot all about flying and just stared at his face. So, so handsome, she thought, fighting the urge to reach over and touch those creases.

“Well, then, you’re out with the right fella. I told you I can fly, didn’t I?”

“You did, but I didn’t want to impose …”

He threw back his head with a laugh, then his right hand left the steering wheel and he stretched his arm behind her. His big hand landed gently on her shoulder, sending wild, zinging energy through her. She didn’t dare move in case she scared him off.

“Never an imposition with you, Dash. You know that. All you have to do is ask, and it’s yours — if I can get it, I mean.”

Her pulse racing with joy, she grabbed the hand still resting on her shoulder and squeezed. “I want to fly,” she declared. “Step on it, Joseph. I want to fly!”

Grinning, he pressed down on the accelerator, and they sped out of the city. Every time she glanced over he was already watching her, his face soft with the same kind of wonder she felt inside. He loved her, she knew. It was still early days, and neither of them had said anything out loud involving that particular word, but she knew it anyway. He loved her truly, because she loved him to the bottom of her heart and back up again. There was no way that kind of love could be one-sided.

The big blue Chrysler raced down the dirt roads, leaving a rooster tail of dust behind, and Dash breathed in the unfamiliar smells of a world beyond the city. It was the height of summer, and the fields around them were vivid with green, alive with promise for the future. Her heart felt happier out here, in all this open space, and not just because she was with Joseph. She and Dot should come out here more often. Her sister thrived in peace and quiet, and there was no one out here for as far as Dash could see.

She didn’t mind, though, when Joseph snapped on the radio. She started singing along to the song, I’ll Never Smile Again, as that new fellow Frank Something crooned with the Tommy Dorsey band. Such a sad song, but she loved the melody.

“You’ve got a beautiful voice,” Joseph said. “I’m not surprised.”

She smiled over at him, still humming the tune. “Dot told me this song was actually written by a girl in Toronto. Ruth Lowe.”

“Is that right? How does she know?”

“Oh, Dot knows so much,” she replied, pleased to see he looked impressed. “She’s constantly reading. She told me Ruth Lowe was a piano player for the CBC until she one day sucked up her courage and approached Tommy Dorsey. His band was playing down at the Ex. He liked the song, then he tried it out with this new singer, Frank—”

“Sinatra,” Joseph supplied helpfully.

“That’s right. Frank Sinatra. Anyway, I just like that story. I like hearing a woman wrote it and that she came from right here.”

“Great story, but I prefer listening to you sing it.”

Then she heard the whirring of an unfamiliar engine coming closer, and just as Joseph pointed upward, an airplane buzzed overhead. She shouted with the thrill of being so close and she almost started bouncing in her seat when she saw a windsock flapping loosely up ahead. A few minutes later, Joseph turned the car into a small airfield with a few parked planes around the perimeter, then parked by a two-seater Tiger Moth.

“This is mine.”

Her jaw dropped. “You own an airplane?”

“Well, it’s my dad’s. He flew in the last war. He, uh, used to teach flying out here.”

“Used to?”

“He says he’s retired,” he said, shutting off the engine.

“You know, up until this moment, you never told me anything about your dad. About anyone in your family, actually.”

“Nothing too exciting,” he said, climbing out of the car.

“One of these days, I want to hear all about little Joseph growing up.” She watched him walk around the car then come to her door. “How is it that I didn’t know you had a plane until now?”

Again, that easy shrug she’d never get enough of. “You never asked.”

From the trunk of his car, Joseph produced not one, but two helmets with goggles. When he handed one to her, she breathed in the smooth leather scent, eyes closed with anticipation, before she finally slid it over her head.

“We’re really going to fly?”

Joseph’s fingers touched her jaw, gently fastening the buckle. “Only if you want. You sit up front.”

Her heart beat out of her chest as he settled her into her seat, leaning over the open cockpit and pointing out the dials and gauges in front of her.

“This is the RPM, which tells you—”

“Did you forget who I am?” she teased. “I know what that does. What’s everything else?”

“Air speed indicator is here, and see that little crosshair? That’s the cross lever to keep the plane on an even keel. The altimeter is here, and that shows—”

“Altitude, I bet.”

“Smart aleck. The rudder is managed by your feet. And last but not least, the joystick is right here in the middle.”

He took a few minutes to do all the checks required, then one of the men inside the hangar came out to help get the engine started. Reaching way up, he grabbed the top of the propeller and swung it down a half turn, then he did it four more times.

“Getting fuel throughout the workings,” Joseph explained. “When he’s done, I just hit this little switch on the outside of the cockpit, he’ll pull the prop down again, and it’ll catch.”

The man on the ground checked with Joseph, then he removed the wooden chocks in front of the tires and returned to the front. She was watching, taking everything in, when Joseph’s hand snuck up and curled around the back of her neck, covering her in goosebumps.

“Ready?”

“Ready!”

The man yanked down on the propeller one last time, and the engine roared to life, vibrating under and around her, surrounding her in noise and a sort of breathless euphoria. The breeze tickled her face and her neck as they taxied out to the beginning of the runway, then Joseph pushed in the throttle. They sat a moment, waiting for the engine to rev, then he shouted “Woohoo!” and they were speeding toward the end, jostling over bumps on the runway, pasting loose tangles of her hair to her face. She held her breath when they left the ground behind, and her stomach plunged with anticipation as they headed up, up, up to what Joseph called cruising height, at two thousand feet. She was flying. Wait until I tell Dot.

Tiny shapes of trees and buildings dotted the landscape, lined by rivers and roads that wound far below them like snakes. She leaned her head over the edge of the cockpit, taking it all in, and she wished so badly that Joseph was beside her, not behind, so she could hold his hand and exclaim over every wondrous thing. Between the double wings, the motor, and the constant wind whipping past her, it was too loud to hear anything until he brought a trumpet microphone to his mouth.

“What do you think?”

She spread her arms to the sides, forming a third set of wings, then she dropped her head backward, filled with joy.

“I’m so happy!” she yelled so he could hear.

“I love you, Margaret Wilson,” she heard him exhale, and she wondered if he knew the trumpet was still close enough to his mouth for her to hear. It didn’t matter, though. She already knew he loved her, just as she loved him. Only now, she’d heard him say it out loud.

“Okay, Dash! Grab that joystick!”

“What?!”

“You’re flying the plane! Just keep us level.”

She wobbled at first, panicked by a burst of adrenaline, but then she found her wings and steered, riding the movement, learning how the airplane reacted to her subtle commands, and thinking she might just die of happiness. They flew for a half hour that felt like a minute to Dash, then she reluctantly handed over the controls so he could head back to the landing strip, since it was getting dark. There was hardly even a bump when he touched down, and it wasn’t until he came to a stop that she realized her face ached from smiling so much.

“Oh, Joseph,” she said on a sigh, watching him climb out. He held up his hand, helping her disembark, and she stepped onto the runway with him. “That was the best moment of my life.”

“Is that right?” he asked. He unclipped her helmet and slid it off her head, letting her long black hair tumble loose. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, and that overwhelming sense of exhilaration slipped much lower in her body. “Let’s see if I can beat it.”

His kiss was electric, the smell of him warm and masculine, the slight brush of his beard deliciously rough. When they came up for air, she looked up at him in wonder, then smiles spread across both their faces.

“Close,” she murmured. “Try again.”

*

Just as Dash leaned toward their mirror, applying a generous layer of ruby lipstick onto her own, there came a knocking at the door.

“Come in, come in!” Dot heard her mother say, as inviting as hot cocoa on a chilly fall day, and the girls raced downstairs.

Joseph Morrison stood in the entryway beside their parents, looking slightly dazed by the Wilsons’ dramatic entryway. Their mother prided herself on making a good impression, wanting to keep up to their neighbours in the upscale village of Forest Hills. The house’s entryway, with its cedar-panelled walls and tall ceilings, complete with a dramatic chandelier, certainly achieved that. Room by room, the entire house was being transformed as her husband’s law firm finally began to break free of the discouraging 30s. The living room had been second, and the new bookshelves around the fireplace were full of Dot’s Christie novels and their father’s more serious books. Dash’s favourite new room was the sunshine yellow kitchen. Dot wasn’t yet convinced about her mother’s plan for a bathroom decorated entirely in pink.

Joseph brightened the moment he caught sight of Dash. He was breathtakingly handsome in a light brown suit, holding not one but three bouquets of flowers in his hands. One for their mother, and one for each of the sisters. Dash brushed past Dot to greet him, looking as if she was practically walking on air. Almost as if she forgot the rest of the family was even there.

That’s when Dot understood this was so much more than a crush.

“Hello, Joseph,” Dash said. “I’d like to introduce you to my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson.”

“Terrific to meet you both,” he said. “You have a beautiful house.”

Not for the first time, Dot felt a little flutter in her own chest. She wasn’t drawn to him in the same way as Dash was, but with him being so striking, it felt almost like having a movie star in the house. He really was that polished. He handed a bouquet of purple flowers to Dot’s mother, whose cheeks pinked up to match.

“How lovely, Joseph. Please come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“Hey, Dot,” he said. “These are for you.”

Daisies. Dot glanced at her sister with surprise. Had she told him they were Dot’s favourite flowers? Dash winked at her. Yes, she had.

“Thank you,” Dot said to him, then she took her mother’s arm. “Let’s go put these in water,” she suggested, leaving Joseph to Dash and their father.

“And these are for you, Dash,” she heard behind her.

His voice was like butter melting on toast. She didn’t look back to see her sister’s expression. She could imagine it clearly. What a strange sensation, feeling both overjoyed for Dash’s happiness and devastated that this man might actually have the power to separate the two of them. She was still here, and yet Dot already felt a kind of hole in her chest.

“They’re beautiful. I’ll just put them in water.”

“Joseph,” their father said as both girls and their mother turned away.

“Mr. Wilson, sir. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Dot filled a vase with water, and their mother popped up on her toes, searching the cabinets for more. Dash held out the flowers in her hand.

“Look,” she whispered, glowing. “Red roses.”

Smiling with appreciation for his good taste, their mother stepped up quickly after that, saying supper was ready, and would everyone please take their seats. While Dot and Dash reached for the dishes to bring the food to the table, their mother set the roses in the centre, where their rich colour flickered every time the candles caught a shift in the air. She set a bottle of wine beside it, and before Dot’s father could rise to pour, Joseph had jumped up.

“Allow me,” he said, earning smiles from everyone as he walked around, pouring. Dot watched him, seeing the slight wobble of the liquid as it filled the crystal glasses. Her defenses lowered a little, noting how he was fighting his nerves.

“Wow,” she mouthed to Dash across the table.

Dash’s smile was the sun.

“How nice,” their mother said, looking almost as smitten as Dash did. “Please, Joseph. Take a seat.”

“Yes, please do,” her husband said, barely covering his smile. “Before you make me look bad.”

The rest of the dinner hummed along smoothly, and there was no way Dot couldn’t soften toward Joseph, even if he had stolen all Dash’s attention. She’d wanted her sister to be happy, and this man was making that happen in spades. She studied Dash’s expression, saw the warmth of her smile, the glints of laughter in her brown eyes, and the way she seemed to glow overall. She studied all of it, committing every beautiful thing to heart, because when the day came that Dash married Joseph — and she already knew that day would come — Dot didn’t want to forget a single thing.

*

Out of necessity, Dot was learning to share Dash for the first time. Even though she liked Joseph, her heart sank a little whenever his car pulled up outside their house, because it seemed like every time he came, it got easier for Dash to leave. It was childish, she knew, trying to hold onto her sister like that. It’s just that she’d never known anything else. It had always been Dash, Gus, and her. And now it felt like it was just her.

About a month ago, a letter had arrived, and her heart had leapt as it always did when she recognized Gus’s clean printing on the envelope. Grabbing both it and the newspaper lying beneath, she bounded up the stairs, got comfortable in her bed, and carefully opened the envelope.

He was well, he assured her, making friends, bunking down with some good enough fellows, and after he told her about the baseball game they’d just played at the camp, he went into detail about the marching and the drills and the discipline, and she could sense how happy he was about all of it. Of course he was. Growing up, Gus had been the boy who shoveled out the car in the morning without needing to be asked, who took out the garbage and cut firewood. If Dash had let him, he would have changed the oil in the car as well. Gus loved to be busy.

Gosh, she missed him.

It was different from how she missed Dash, though. She knew Dash didn’t completely forget about her when she was out, though she knew she wasn’t a priority. The other night she’d come home with a couple of books for her, which had been thoughtful. She’d noticed Dot was almost through her Agatha Christie books, and since Gus was no longer around to trade with her, that meant Dot was running dangerously low. So Dash had dragged Joseph to the book store to pick out some new authors the shop’s owner recommended. Dot was a particular person when it came to books, so she admitted that would have been a challenge for them to do. She’d narrowed her eyes at their offerings but had eventually given in, saying that Erle Stanley Gardner’s Perry Mason series looked like fun.

When Joseph was not around, the girls went back to their old ways, working at the garage, making supper, shopping for their mother, and discussing what they were reading about the war and other world events. But ever since Joseph, Dot was conscious of something different between them. A kind of static interference in the air. They both felt it, and they both knew there were things that hadn’t been said since they’d been living separate lives. Dash had been so wrapped up in her exciting romance she’d forgotten to ask, and Dot hadn’t been forthcoming about what she was up to either. Dot missed that closeness, and she knew Dash did as well, but there was nothing to be done for it. So they both accepted what was happening, then they moved on.

“Dorothy?” her mother said, appearing at their bedroom door. “I need you to drive to the pharmacy for me.”

She set Gus’s letter aside. “Dad’s not feeling better?”

Her mother shook her head, trying to appear unconcerned. “I’m sure it will pass soon.”

“It’s been over a week. What did the doctor say?”

“That it was probably just the stomach virus that’s going around. He told us to give it a little more time, then go back and see him if it didn’t improve.” She held out her purse. “We need more Pepto Bismol, and more aspirin.”

Turning her father’s Buick left onto Eglinton, she headed past the Anglican church on the corner, then took another left onto Bathurst. She passed the darkened windows of the bakery, the United Cigar Shop with its huge ‘Drink Coca-Cola” sign over the window, then Mr. Perkins’s furniture store, also closed for the night. It was convenient that the stern-faced pharmacist, Mr. Shields, had a policy of staying open until 8:00. No one seemed to know if Mr. Shields had a family to go home to at night, but the scuttlebutt around the area was that his permanent scowl and brusque form of conversation suggested he probably did not. Eventually, Dot turned right and parked in front of the pharmacy on the corner, its big window bright with the streetlight’s glow. Inside, Mr. Shields quickly brought Dot the medications her mother had requested then sent her on her way.

With the bag hugged to her chest, Dot headed out of the shop and into the car. She decided to take a different route, just for variety, so she turned left at the electric pole painted with a white Bus Stop sign, humming what she could remember of that Bob Hope song, Thanks for the Memories—

She hit the brakes, slowing to a snail’s pace, spying someone unexpected up ahead. Light from inside an apartment building shone through an open door, illuminating Joseph’s familiar outline. He appeared to be speaking with someone in the doorway that Dot couldn’t see. Moving even slower now, but trying not to make herself too obvious, she drove toward the open door and peeped over her upturned collar, in hopes that she wouldn’t get caught snooping. As she approached, a distinctly feminine arm reached out from inside the building and a delicate hand touched Joseph’s cheek before withdrawing again. He was smiling broadly, and in the next moment the two were hugging. Shocked, Dot sped up and got quickly away. The woman he’d been holding was young, beautiful, and smiling with her eyes closed. The sight filled Dot with anxiety. She had to tell Dash, but how? What could she say?

When she got home, Dash was folding clothes in their room, singing to herself, looking so happy there was no way Dot could say anything. Seeing her that way, Dot began to question what she’d seen. She was probably overreacting. Not everything in life was, after all, a Christie murder mystery, needing to be solved. If Joseph was lying to Dash, her sister would know. She was intuitive and smart. She’d call him out on it.

What if, by assuming he was up to something secret, Dot had jumped to conclusions? What if the woman was a friend of his, and no more than that? After all, he never really talked about himself. His life remained a mystery to them. Dot decided to stay mum about what she’d seen. At least for now.

Inside, Dot handed her mother the medicine, then went to visit her father, a glass of water in hand. He was sitting a little higher on the bed, looking slightly less grey than before, and he took careful sips of the water while she watched. By the next day, she was relieved to hear their father was successfully eating the soup their mother was bringing to him. It seemed their father’s health, at least, had been not overly concerning after all. She hoped her fears about Joseph were equally baseless.

When Joseph came to see Dash the next night, Dot observed him like a hawk, unable to stop thinking of methods Hercule Poirot might have used to solve the Mystery of the Woman in the Doorway. But Joseph gave nothing away and behaved no differently from how he always did. Dot was unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed about that. Over time, she let the scene by the apartment door fade from her mind, though an annoying niggling remained.

A couple of weeks later, at the supper table after a fine meal of pork chops and mashed potatoes, Dash made an announcement to the family that shocked them all.

“Joseph is taking me out to a restaurant for my birthday.”

Their parents looked at each other, surprised. “That sounds nice,” their mother said carefully.

Dot didn’t respond right away. She noted her sister’s defensively lifted chin, the glint of challenge in Dash’s brown eyes, and she snapped her mouth shut. The two of them had never changed their birthday routine in all their eighteen years. From the look on her sister’s face, there was no need to remind her of the obvious question: You mean ‘our’ birthday?

Dot stood and collected the dishes. She brought them to the sink, washed them, then excused herself, knowing Dash would follow.

“Well?” Dash said as she shut their bedroom door, daring her.

“Well what? What am I supposed to say?” She dropped onto her bed, pulling her latest book with her. Without a word, she opened it to the right page and stared at it.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Dash’s chin drop a bit. “I know you’re angry.”

“Is that rhetorical?”

Dash propped her fists onto her hips and glared at Dot. “Am I not allowed a little happiness?”

That stung. “I will try not to take that personally, Dash, but I thought you were happy all along.”

“We are not children, Dot. We’re going to be eighteen. I, at least, am growing up and moving on.”

Dash’s well-rehearsed statement was far too cruel to be what she really meant. She would never purposefully say things to hurt Dot, just like Dot would never hurt Dash. It was understood. And yet it did hurt, and Dot’s eyes welled with tears. Dash let out a long breath and sat beside her on the end of the bed, shoulder to shoulder.

“That was awful of me,” she said.

Dot nodded.

“Please forget I ever said that.”

She nodded again, but she knew she never could. She’d felt the change for a while now, the shifting of Dash’s priorities, and honestly, she understood. Dash was right; it was time for Dot to grow up.

In the morning, while Dash slept softly in her matching bed, Dot picked up Gus’s letter from her bedside table and carried it to the living room. She could always count on Gus to comfort her. He always had.

*

Dash’s joy over flying with Joseph was incredible. Breathless with happiness, she had barged into their bedroom, wanting to tell Dot all about it. She was so filled with descriptions and feelings that Dot almost felt as if she’d been in the sky along with her. Listening to Dash’s stories made things a little easier for Dot. It allowed her to procrastinate. She still hadn’t told Dash that she’d signed up for the Wrens, and that knowledge burned in Dot’s gut. This was the first secret she’d ever kept from her sister, and it was getting harder to keep. The trouble was, the longer she kept it from her sister, the hotter the burn was going to get.

Three weeks after that appointment, Dot sat on Gus’s bed, a letter from the King in her hand. Time was officially running out.

“How on earth am I going to tell her?” she asked the quiet room.

“Tell me what?”

Dot jumped, placing a hand over her heart. “How do you know I was talking about you?”

“Because of the look on your face,” she said, joining her on the side of Gus’s bed. “Come on, Dot. Spill.”

Dot was afraid of a lot of things: heights, spiders, standing in front of crowds, but her greatest fear of all was disappointing her sister. She took a deep breath, sat as straight as she could, then finally let it out.

“I’ve done something.”

“What did you do?”

“You remember about three weeks ago, when we had that fight?”

“About the birthday dinner?”

“And you told me to grow up.”

“I asked you to forget I said that,” Dash said. “It was wrong of me. And very rude.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not something that’s easy to forget. Besides,” Dot said, sitting taller, “you were right. It was time for me to grow up. Anyway, after our argument, I got a letter from Gus. No, no. It’s nothing bad. He’s fine.”

“Does he like the Army?” Dash asked. “Has he gone anywhere yet?”

“He sounds happy. He said he doesn’t know where he’ll be stationed, but he is assuming he’ll be shipped overseas at some point.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad he’s happy. I bet he hates that he’s not seeing any action yet, but I’m selfishly glad he’s not in it. It sounds awful over there.”

“He’s doing the right thing. For him, and for the world. I’m proud of him.”

“Me too.” Dash cocked her head. “But I don’t think that’s the thing you wanted to tell me. Come on. What is it?”

Dot puffed out her cheeks then exhaled. “I have been accepted into the Womens Royal Canadian Navy Service. I’ll be with the typing pool and working toward being a wireless operator. I leave in a few weeks.”

Dash’s jaw dropped, and in the murky light of Gus’s room Dot thought she suddenly looked pale. Though she longed to reach out to her sister, Dot stayed put and held her tongue. She needed Dash to say something first. Her approval, her understanding, even her fury—something. But Dash was silent.

Dot flushed with shame; she should have told her sister long before now. “Dash?”

“Are … are you sure?” Dash managed.

“It’ll be good for me. And you’ll hardly notice I’m gone. Between the garage and your flying lessons, I mean.”

Dash’s eyes filled with tears. “When? When are you leaving?” and Dot heard clearly, When are you leaving me?

She dropped her gaze to the bed. This was the most shameful part. “Two weeks,” came out in a kind of whimper. All of a sudden it was so real. “I’m sorry, Dash,” she whispered, slowly raising her eyes. “And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

And she was. Because for the first time in her life, she would be leaving Dash behind. It wasn’t fair to have done it in secret.

After the shock died down, Dash declared she wanted to spend the next two weeks with her sister and closed the garage for the duration. As wonderful as that was, Dot insisted that Dash keep up with the flying lessons. She’d never seen her as happy as she was these days, coming home from a lesson with Joseph.

Dot would never admit to the twinge of jealousy she felt whenever Joseph pulled up at the front door and took Dash away. Was Dot jealous of him and the time he spent with her sister, or was it of Dash, envying how easy it was for her to hook a man like Joseph? Because so far, Dot hadn’t seen a man Dash couldn’t catch. Sometimes Dot wasn’t exactly sure what she was feeling about that. Still, she wanted the lessons to continue. She wanted Dash to be happy.

*

When the big day came, Dot and Dash stood on the platform with their parents, and all but their father wept. He looked to be poised on the edge of losing that control, but he covered it up by assuring Dot over and over that he was so very proud of her. After all their goodbyes, their parents stepped away to give the twins space.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she confessed to Dash, filled with remorse. “I’ll send my regrets.”

“I don’t think you can do that,” her sister laughed. “As much as I wish you could.”

“How am I going to navigate this mine field without you?”

Dash raised an eyebrow. “I guess you should have thought of that before you signed up.”

“I’m afraid,” Dot admitted softly. She couldn’t imagine being away from Dash for longer than a day, and this could go on for years.

“Honestly, I’m scared for you,” Dash said, “but you’ll do fine, and you’ll be doing what you love. You know, Dot, you’re the bravest person I know. You just don’t know it yet. One day you’ll look around and realize you’re an incredible person, and maybe going away is the best way for you to see that. I bet you will be working with some terrific girls, and I’ll write to you tons.”

“You’d better.”

“I want to hear all about it, and if anyone even gives you a hint of trouble, you know I will be there in a flash.” Dash glanced at the waiting train, which was filling the platform with clouds of steam. “Well, as flashy as these trains can go.”

“What about you? What will you do?” Dot wanted to know. She’d asked so many times, but never received an answer. “Have you thought about doing something with the Wrens?”

Dash brightened. “Actually, Joseph thinks Lewis at the airport might hire me on as a mechanic.”

“Dash! That would be great! You could fix engines and fly. And see Joseph.”

Her sister sighed. “He’s leaving soon. He got the call from the Air Force. But it’s okay. He’s taught me so much. I have a good enough grasp that I know I’ll be up on my first solo flight soon. Then there will be no stopping me.”