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“Are you all right?” Major Trent’s voice startled Liddy more than the collision. She looked up at Trent who still had his hands on her bare arms. “Hall?” He tightened his gaze. “I didn’t recognize you.” Sheer amusement danced on his face as he surveyed the get-up. “Are you all right?” His grin tightened and with a low chuckle he asked, “What are you doing?”

Liddy’s face heated-up, and then she frosted it over and said coolly, “I’m fine. Thank you.” She pulled away from his hold and took a step back. “It’s my understanding that I can do what I want on the weekends, as long as it’s not illegal and I don’t do it with any ‘Military’ personnel.” Liddy locked into Trent’s eyes and glared. “Excuse me?”

Trent rocked his head back slightly and widened his eyes. Amusement was gone and a hurt look took its place. He turned to the side to let her pass.

The way Liddy had spoken to Major Trent made her feel ugly. But it was a reaction, and she didn’t know what to do about it now. It wasn’t in her at that moment to be cordial to Jenna Law’s assumed fiancé. The weariness that filled her anytime she thought of him had worn her thin. Liddy brushed by him and walked hurriedly to the waiting car in the distance. Going back in the direction where Trent was still watching wasn’t an option, so she piled in with the party and headed to the Inn.

The Lake Inn had company that night, and her hands were full. Every chair in the joint was occupied, the dancing was shoulder to shoulder and the skirts were flying. One of the Air Force pilots held on to Marina’s hips as they rocked with her chachacha. Joy Lynn was doing some wild thing with another pilot and he moved his feet spastically, just to keep up with her. Neither man looked much like he was resting. Louise was being pushed and pulled across the dance floor by a little cowboy that looked to be half her size.

Bet and Liddy sat at a table talking with three dolled-up country boys. A big Texan approached the table and positioned himself at Bet’s side. “Hello, Miss, I’m Farrell Stark. Would you like to dance?” he asked Bet timidly.

Liddy gave Bet a little shove. “Go on, girl. Then we better get going back to base.”

Bet reached for her drink and Liddy covered it up with her hand. “Just go dance. You’ve had enough.” Sweetwater sat in a dry county, but only in the sense that the spirits couldn’t be sold there. Bringing in your own bottle was allowed or overlooked. Where the bottles came from didn’t seem to matter—no one went thirsty. Liddy never touched the stuff. She didn’t like the idea of not having hold of herself at all times, but Bet had indulged, and Liddy suspected it may have been the first time.

Liddy watched Farrell Stark guide the wobbly little redhead, who didn’t stand past his shoulder, away to the dance floor. And bobbling through the crowd toward her, she saw Instructor Gant staggering across the room as he ricocheted off the dancers. He stumbled to the table and caught himself on Bet’s empty chair. The chair bucked back and took Gant to the floor. When he pulled himself up, he rose like a three string marionette. “Now, Trainee Hall, these are not Army personnel persons you’re schmoozin’ with, are they?” Gant fell onto Liddy’s shoulder as he tried to take a seat.

One of the boys rose to take care of the drunk.

“It’s okay,” Liddy assured the willing bouncer.

The man sat back down.

“I could get your butt kicked out of your little Waspy program for that, kicked right out,” Gant slurred.

“The rules apply to you too, ya know. No socializing with WASP trainees. You could be fired without recommendation. You might want to find another place to park it. You know how people can talk.”

“She is a spark, do you know that, a god damn spark,” Gant spittled at the men and then swung his attention along with his swaying posture back to Liddy. “I wouldn’t try to have you booted. You know why?” Gant sputtered before he got his next sentence out. “Because you’re the best damn pilot I’ve ever seen.” He looked back at the men. “Cranky disposition, though.”

“Maybe you can help me with that. You’re such a beacon of grace and gentility.”

“Yeah, I’ll help you, Hall, anyway I can.” Gant’s eyes opened wide as if he’d just got a shock in his seat. “And I can’t be fired because I got orders, Hall. I’m goin overseas.”

Liddy saw desperation in his eyes that took her back to the day she said goodbye to Rowby in front of Tully’s Grocer.

“See, that’s what you’ve done to me. Why do you think I’m here wasting my time with you damn women? It was supposed to be a deal. I would teach, not that I can teach you anything and that would be my service to my country. But they don’t need me here anymore. They’ve got you damned women to deliver the planes, teach how to fly them, test them. You’re doing it all. So they’re sending me there.”

Gant clumsily poked out a finger with a straight arm and pointed across the room. Then he rubbed his head in his hands, leaving long strands of hair at tilted attention. “They’re sending me there to fight the bloody fight.” Gant pointed in the other direction then collapsed onto the table in an emotional pool. His sobs were violent, but brief, and then he popped up with a hateful look in his face and grabbed Liddy by the arm. “I don’t want to go. Do you hear me?”

All three of the men were up this time ready to toss Gant when he released Liddy’s arm and smoothed himself out. “What’s the big damn deal? Right? Nothing could be as dangerous as flying with you crazy women, especially you. What are you gonna do without me, Hall? None of the other instructors want to take you up. It was my curse.” Gant swung his head to the men. “She’s the best damn pilot, but craaaanky, woo-whee, cranky.”

At the end of the night, Liddy agreed to join her baymates on the floor for one last dance—the Bet dance. After that, getting the women out of the inn and into the car was like herding ants, but finally they were headed back to the base. Joy Lynn’s eyes were closed and she was softly humming something that sounded like a combination of Mary Had a Little Lamb and Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree. She and Bet were sandwiched between Liddy and Louise in the back seat. Marina and Carla sat in the front between the driver and his buddy. What song had been their favorite on the juke and how many turns they’d had on the dance floor, and with who, kept them chatting quite happily.

The car rumbled down the road, washing the alcohol over Bet’s brain. “Hey, Liddy, Farrell asked me out.”

“That’s nice, honey.”

“He’s never been to college.” Bet tried to center her finger over her lips. “Shhh, don’t tell my parents.”

“Okay, I won’t.” Liddy smiled at Louise.

Bet laid her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes. Her head rocked with the washboard of the road. “I love Texas. Don’t you think the friendliest people live in Texas?” When no one answered her query, Bet lifted her head and demanded a response, “Don’t you?”

“Oh, definitely,” Liddy wrinkled her brow and nodded her head in agreement.

“Don’t you?” Bet barked at Louise.

“I do,” answered Louise.

Again, Bet let her head fall onto the back rest and continued talking with her eyes closed, “So, am I here because I want to be here, or because they don’t want me to be here?”

“I don’t know,” said Liddy.

“Could it be the same thing?” Bet’s eyes popped open. “Whatever the reason…” She raised her head and drew close to Liddy’s face. “… I met you.” She turned to Louise. “And you and Joy Lynn.” Her head collapsed back again. “She’s a joy isn’t she? Joy’s a joy, and pretty Marina and sweet Calli. Her baby is going to be so beautiful, don’t you think?” She flipped her head back up and asked impatiently, “Don’t you?”