Connetticut, 1941
Carol embraced him one last time before he got in the car.
"You'll write me, promise?" she squeezed him tighter, her doe eyes teary, her face red. Edgar looked at her, his blue eyes were uncharacteristically sad.
"Of course, you need to stop worrying, it'll make you sick." his eyes scrunched up as he spoke, as if smiling. Carol, still in her pajamas got on her tiptoes to give him one last peck on the cheek, it hurt her, not the kiss, but knowing that this could be the last time she would ever see him.
"Don't do anything stupid," she spoke holding back her tears, puddles welled up in her eyes. Instinctively she grabbed onto his arm and squeezed it tight.
"I gotta go, I'm sorry, I love you" he kissed her forehead, cupping her face in his hands. He walked to the car. She waved him goodbye, once his car had gotten off their street, she opened the door and closed it behind her. Carol sunk to the floor, she let all of her tears out. This was crazy, they were only 21. She covered her eyes, trying to get the tears to stop, but they wouldn't stop.
"It's fine, It's fine, he'll write" she was breathing hard and her voice shook. She got to the couch, and fell asleep.
YOU ARE READING
Waiting
Historical FictionCarol Bartlet, the young wife of a Soldier in the Pacific war, documents her daily troubles in her journal. A witty woman, with a strong will can surely deal with being alone. With friends and family beside her, and a letter coming back every week f...
