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The two women were silent, sadness resting between them. Amelia leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as her grandmother continued looking off into a distance. She thought she saw her shed a tear.

"What happened next, Nana?" she asked quietly, making her way to her grandmother and extending her hand for the woman to take. "Surely, it doesn't end there." The woman simply shook her head.

It was 1945.

The Axis Power surrendered months ago, and men were slowly making their way back home. The book Eleanor had spent months writing on was getting published, thanks to both her own hard work as well as money she saved for months throughout the war.

Eleanor looked up from the receptionist table she was stationed at. She had been working in a dentists office, choosing not to return to school but continue helping her family raise money.

"Eleanor," the dentist, Dr. Paul Gibson, called from his office, "Could you come in here please?"

Paul Gibson was a tall man with jet black hair and a big smile always plastered on his face. He had earned that right after all, his teeth were perfect— But that was to be expected from the town's only dentist. But in addition to that, he was a kind and gracious man, who accepted her job application despite her lack of high school diploma. He was patient with Eleanor as she learned the ropes of being his assistant, and even did most of her work sometimes. She often joked that he shouldn't have hired her at all. He would simply laugh.

She made her way into his office and stood by his door, "Is there something you need, Dr. Gibson?"

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Paul?" he frowned teasingly, fixing up all the papers on his desk, "Could you be a dear and ring up Ms. Morales? I'll have to move her appointment to 3PM."

"Of course, Paul," Eleanor replied, placing emphasis on his name. Paul simply laughed and tapped his temple twice, before picking up his coat and heading out the door.

Eleanor locked the office door behind her and settled herself back in her chair. Quickly the number to Ms. Morales' house, you informed her of the schedule change and went back to writing in her notebook. She started a new book, this time she hoped to make it a little longer, and about her experiences working as an aircraft technician. Whenever she had nothing to do at the clinic, she would write.

Not realising how quickly time flew, the doorbell rang, and Eleanor looked out the glass door to see Ms. Morales. She rushed to the door, quickly unlocking it and letting the elderly woman in. "Hi, Ms. Morales," she greeted, glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall, "Dr. Gibson will be here any minute. Please, sit down." Eleanor gestured towards the seating area before heading back behind her desk.

"How have you been, dear?" Ms. Morales asked, watching Eleanor from her seat, "How is Dr. Gibson?"

"I'm good, thank you so much for asking," she replied, standing so she could see the woman from behind her desk, "And I think Dr. Gibson is doing good as well. How have you been, ma'am?"

Ms. Morales smiled, squinting her eyes with a smile, "I've been okay. Has Paul asked you out yet?"

Eleanor's eyes nearly bulged out of her head and she said with a stutter, "Excuse me, ma'am?"

This Lifetime. | Edward Heffronजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें