As he sat at his desk, with the phone cradled beneath his ear, he made several hasty notes. And as he sat there in rugged clothes, on this Sunday evening, he felt in command again. He had been beaten for the first time in his life, but he wasn't beaten forever. One day he'd get Johnny back, and right now maybe it was just as well that he was with Hillary after all. He had a lot on his mind, and a lot of things were going to change now with the country at war. For a while he wasn't going to have a spare minute. He looked up seriously then as the President came on the line, and Nick told him why he had called him. It was a brief but satisfactory conversation, and Nick got everything he wanted. Now all that remained was to lock his office and see John. After he called Brett Williams.
Brett Williams was his right-hand man, and had run the United States operation for him during the year Nick was in Europe. And five minutes later Nick had him on the phone at home. Brett had expected to hear from him all afternoon, and wasn't surprised to hear from him now. They both knew what was coming. It would mean a boom for them, but it was still frightening.
“Well, Nick, what do you think?” There was no greeting, no welcome back, no mention of the disastrous attempt to win custody of Johnny. The two men knew each other well. Brett Williams had begun working at Burnham Steel in the days of Nick's father, and he had been invaluable to Nick since he took over.
“I think we're going to have one hell of a lot of work. And I think a number of other things too. I just called Roosevelt.”
“You and every little old lady in Kansas.”
Nick grinned. Williams was an intriguing man. He had grown up on a farm in Nebraska, earned a scholarship to Harvard, and had been a Rhodes scholar at Cambridge. He had come a long way from the fields of Nebraska. “I made some notes. Peggy will type them up for you tomorrow. But I want to ask you a few pertinent questions now.”
“Shoot.”
He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd be willing to do it. It was a lot to ask. But Williams didn't let him down. He never had before, and Nick knew he wouldn't now. But it was good to hear it from Williams himself. He wasn't really surprised at what Nick asked, as Roosevelt hadn't been when Nick had called him. It was the only thing Nick could do, given who, and what, he was. And all three of them knew that. What Nick wondered now was if Johnny would understand too.
“Hello, Hillary. I'll bring him back on Sunday at seven.”
“I think five would be better.” There was a brief lightning bolt of tension between them, and Nick decided not to argue with her in front of the child. He had been through enough, and Nick didn't want to spoil their visit.
“Fine.”
“Where will you be?”
“At my apartment.”
“Have him call me tomorrow. I want to know he's all right.” Her words grated on Nick's nerves, but he nodded and they left and he questioned Johnny intensely in the car, but although the boy would have preferred living with his father, he had to admit that his mother was being decent to him. And Mrs. Markham Sr. had been very nice to him in Palm Beach. She had given him a lot of presents and took him on walks with her, and Johnny liked her. He admitted that he wasn't seeing too much of his mother and Philip. They were out most of the time, and he had the impression that Philip didn't care much for kids.
“They're okay, I guess. But it's not like living with you, Dad.” He grinned broadly as he walked back into his old room and threw himself on the bed.
“Welcome home, son.” Nick watched him with a happy smile, and the ache of the past nine days began to dull. “It sure is good to have you back.”
“It sure is good to be here.” They had a quiet dinner together that night, and Nick tucked him into bed. He had a lot to talk to him about that weekend, but it could wait. They spent Saturday skating in Central Park, and went out for a movie and a hamburger. It seemed very different from their old life, and it lacked the ease of an everyday existence, but Nick was just glad to be with John. And on Sunday he told him what he'd been putting off all weekend. They had talked several times about Pearl Harbor, and what it meant for the United States, but it was only on Sunday afternoon that Nick told him he was reenlisting.
“You are?” The child looked shocked. “You mean you're going to go fight the Japs?” He had heard that at school and Nick wasn't sure he liked the way he said it, but he nodded.
“I don't know where I'll be sent, John. I could be sent anywhere.” The boy thought it over carefully and then he raised sad eyes to his father's.
“That means you'll be going away again, like when you were in Paris.” He didn't remind his father that he had promised never to leave him again, but Nick saw the reproach in his eyes. No matter that the whole world was upside down and Hawaii had been bombed, he felt guilty suddenly for reenlisting. It had been that that he had wanted to check out with Williams. As the head of a major industry in the country, he could have gotten a deferral. But he didn't want that, he wanted to go and fight for his country. He no longer had his son with him, and he needed to get away from it all. From Hillary, and the courts and the agony of an appeal, and even from the reproaches in his son's eyes because he had been unable to keep him. He had realized that he needed to make some radical changes as he walked through the woods in Massachusetts, and when he had heard the news of Pearl Harbor, he had known instantly what he had to do. His call to Roosevelt had been to inform him and expedite his reenlistment. And his call to Brett had been to ask the man to run Burnham Steel in his absence. Brett was the only man he would have left it to. As long as he was willing, Nick was going. “How soon will you leave, Dad?”
Johnny seemed like a little grown-up as he asked. He had seen a lot in the last few months, and he had grown up a great deal.
“I don't know, Johnny. Probably not for quite a while, but it all depends on where they decide to send me.” Johnny digested his father's words and nodded, but it threw a pall on the rest of their afternoon, and Nick was doubly glad that he hadn't told him sooner.
Even Hillary noticed how subdued the boy was when Nick brought him home. She looked at Johnny, then at Nick, and was quick to ask. “What happened?”
“I told him that I've reenlisted.”
“In the Marines?” Hillary looked startled as he nodded. “But you already served.”
“Our country's at war, or hadn't you heard?”
“But you don't have to serve. You're exempt.”
Nick noticed their son listening to their words with interest. “I have a responsibility to my country.”
“Do you want me to start singing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’?”
“Good night, John.” He ignored her and kissed their son good-bye. “I'll call you tomorrow.” He was reporting to Quantico, Virginia, on Tuesday, and after that he would be busy for a week or two. He had stayed in the reserves for a long time, so he didn't have to retrain, and he was going in with the same rank he'd had when he left, as a major.
And that night as Nick went back to the apartment, he wondered what Hillary would tell Johnny, that he didn't have to go to war? That he was being a fool? Then what would the boy think? That he was being abandoned, He felt suddenly tired again as he tried to sort it all out in his head, and went back to the apartment to go through some papers. He had a lot to do before Tuesday.