He’d spent five months without her, five whole months, void of her touch, smell, and taste, without her voice. Nick was sure that he was going crazy. News of Mary O’Hara’s affair spread like wildfire, thanks to Sheila’s help, and he was seen as a wolf preying on poor Mary’s little lambs. Mary was being painted as a confused, self conscious girl who merely wanted to learn how to sew better, a quality any good wife could use. Nick wanted to shout at every one of them, grab them and shake them and scream ‘She came after me!’ but he couldn’t, because he loved her too much. Instead he put up with all of it, the glares, the behind-the-back whispers, and his new life of unemployment. No one wanted their daughters coming into the shop, and any woman who came herself was sure to request anyone other than Nick. Eventually, for the sake of the business, Robert requested that Nick take some time off – indefinitely. Nick wasn’t upset about the job as much as he was that he’d let down his father yet again. Dinners had become awkward and silent, neither father nor son knowing what to say. They hadn’t even really discussed the whole matter and Nick worried that his father may believe some of the gossip that had been flying around. 

“What do you want from life?” Robert’s voice broke through the silence of the room and he put down his book to look over at his son. 

Nick had been looking at a family photo, thinking of better times; when his mother was alive and everything seemed so simple. His father’s question was the same one he’d been asking himself every night since he lost Mary. 

He shrugged in response, still looking at the photo, “I suppose I want what every man wants. I want a good job, a good wife, and a good family. I want to be a good man, like you.” 

“I want those things for you,” Robert replied, “I want you to be happy.”

“Right now I don’t think I’ll ever be happy. I promise you I’ll try though.”

The next day Nick set out to keep his promise. First on the list was getting over Mary. He got a new job, working across the street from his father’s shop, stocking shelves at the market. It seemed like the people there, closer to his own age, didn’t care about the rumours and for the first time in his adult life, Nick had real friends. The first five months of personal agony melted away and it was only at night, when he was alone, that he thought about Mary. 

Soon a year had gone by, then two and by the third Nick had moved from stock boy to assistant manager, the position created exclusively for him after the manager had become sick. He often saw the O’Hara’s maids, and a few times, from a distance, he had even seen Mary. Seeing her stirred familiar feelings in him and he often thought to himself how she was more beautiful now, at nineteen, than she’d ever been. He’d dated, only once seriously, but everyone woman he’d taken out always had one problem with him. No longer were they concerned about him knowing their dress size, this time no woman could get over the fact that he was clearly in love with someone else. 

Nick always wondered if Mary thought about him as much as he did her. He knew it was silly, still loving her after all this time when their original time together had been short. He knew though, deep down, that she was his soul mate and not even three years could change his mind. 

He listened to the chatter around the store as he boxed up orders for deliveries. He wondered what everyone seemed to be so upset about and was even further confused when his father came through the door with a grim look on his face. He’d heard through the grape vine that Sheila O’Hara was in hospital, but he couldn’t see his father being upset about that. If anything, he would probably be elated. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” 

In the past few months it had become commonplace to see people crying on the street, or telling you of their child who’d been lost. Earlier that year an air base had been attacked in Hawaii and now the country was at war. The draft calls had been listed in the paper, and letters were sent out, but somehow Nick had managed to slip under the radar. He’s seen Jonathon’s name on the first list but knew he’d bought his way out of it since he’d seen him around town since the announcement. 

Robert took a deep breath then held up an envelope for Nick to see. The words ‘conscription office’ in the upper left was all Nick needed to see to send his heart into his throat. His father offered him the letter but he shook his head, not wanting to read it himself. Robert nodded then tore into the paper, pulling out the letter. They’d been nice enough to write a formal letter, explaining all too happily that there had been a mix-up with Nick’s file but it was now sorted and in two weeks he was expected to show up at their office to sign some papers before beginning his military training. 

“We knew it was inevitable,” Robert said, trying to convince himself it was true. He handed Nick the letter and watched his son’s face dropping as he read it. 

“I don’t want to go!” was the first thing Nick could think to say. He knew it was selfish but someone was essentially stealing his freedom out from under him. His father, he could tell, was struggling to stay strong. 

“Of course you don’t,” Robert said, choosing tough love as his course of action, “but neither did any of the boys who are out there now. You’re luckier than they are; you got an extra month to be with your family and friends. Besides, you’ve always wanted to go places and see new things.”

Nick knew it was completely true but chose not to believe it, “Not like this though. What am I going to do?” he asked softly, his question partly rhetorical. 

“You’re going to go serve your country, then come back here when it’s all over a hero.” 

“What if I don’t come back?”

Robert’s face paled at the thought but he pushed his fear aside and rested a hand on Nick’s shoulder, “You will, you will.”