A Duchess in the Pacific

One

"none of which are smarter than my Duchess". And if he was tipsy, he would plant a gentle kiss on her temple. It was known as one of the few moments where a smile could be seen sneakily etched on the otherwise stoic beauty's face.

Duchess leaned back in her chair, and lazily strummed on the harp in the corner. Sour notes pickled the otherwise quiet room. Her mother's heavy footsteps tramped from downstairs. Duchess flexed her jaw. Her mother was not very happy about the decision to return to their summer spot. She considered themselves lucky they weren't here during pearl harbor, and Frances thought it was not only irresponsible but asinine to go to the pacific when there was a war on. They were only in New Guinea, but Frances did not feel comfortable with how close they were to Japan.

But Jack was bull headed and a man who loved traditions. And they had vacationed in the pacific every summer for the past ten years- Jack was also superstitious of even numbers so he wanted to make it an odd eleven. A compromise was made. Frances agreed to the vacation if they would never leave the safety of their home. Jack agreed, grateful for the alone time with his favorite girls.

The first two months were not bad, but now they were in August and Frances wanted nothing more than to be home in Massachusetts. Tensions were getting higher and higher and Frances spent most of the days and nights dreading another surprise attack.

That night at dinner, Duchess sat in between the heads of the table where her parents bookended her. Frances was miserably pushing her food around her plate, only willing to unpurse her lips to take a sip of wine. Jack exchanged a look with his daughter. Duchess raised her eyebrows at him. Jack threw his napkin on the table and pushed his chair out.

"that's it. We're going home." He announced as if it had been his idea all along.

Frances looked up at him from the other side of the table. "Really, Jacky?" She cooed at him.

"Yes, Ma'am . No sense in us moping around here anymore. We came here to keep a tradition and we've kept it. The summer's nearly over anyways. Pack your bags. We'll leave tomorrow after lunch."

"Oh, Darling!" Frances rushed to Jack's side, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her cheek to his.

A smile tugged at the corner of Duchess' mouth. Her father winked at her. Happy wife, happy life, was a motto that Jack tried to practice. In these moments, Duchess was always proud of her father. He could be demanding and a bully but never towards her or her mother. He valued their opinions and advice and had no qualms with the idea that they were most likely the smartest people he knew.

Once dinner and dessert were cleared, Duchess eagerly went off to pack her things. She wanted to leave New Guinea the minute they came. Her mother was right, as usual, things were not the same after pearl harbor. And, God, how could they be? Massachusetts was just as hot and sticky in the summer as here, anyways. And Duchess had already read every book she brought from home.

After washing up, and changing into her silk nightgown, she excitedly went to bed earlier than usual. Usually she would stay up reading, embroidering, practicing the harp, or painting. Her parents room was on the other side of the rather large vacation home so they never minded her staying up late. But that night, Duchess tucked herself underneath the large comforter and quilted blanket and stared at the hand painted stars on the ceiling, before dreaming of Massachusetts by the bay.

Not but a few hours later, Duchess was woken up in the middle of the night to her father desperately shaking her awake. Duchess tried to adjust her eyes in the darkness to see his face. He ripped the covers off the bed and pulled her up. He was speaking frantically and was out of breath.