Luke nodded. “You don't happen to know where Mattie is, do you?”
“Not for sure, but it's Friday, so my best bet would be that those two are out at the club. They love to dance, you know. Now, in my day young women stayed closer to home.” She sighed.
Disappointment hit Luke. He didn't have much time, and if he couldn't talk to Mattie tonight...“I guess I could come back tomorrow. You think she'll be here?”
“Probably. If you want to see her right away, she's probably at the Trianon. That's their favorite place—they have good music, and lots of young folks are always there.”
“What's the Trianon?”
“It's a dance club.” She patted down an untamed tuft of hair. “From what I hear, those two really kick up their heels.” She smiled softly and seemed to be somewhere else. “I was once quite a dancer myself …in my heyday. I know I don't look like much now, but the boys used to come calling. I only had eyes for James though.” Sadness touched her eyes. “Dear James, if he hadn't died back in ´32 we would have been married sixty-two years this summer.”
Luke knew he ought to feel bad for the old woman, but he couldn't squelch excitement at the thought of seeing Mattie. It took all his control not to bolt down the stairs in search of her. He managed to smile and nod. “Sixty-two years. That's a long time.”
“It certainly is. He died of cancer. I've been alone since. But I have my family right here—all these young folks. They need someone to watch out for them.” Her eyes sparkled, and she focused her attention on Luke. “Sorry, but I don't even know your name, young man.”
“Luke Hasper, ma'am.”
“I'm Roseline Talbot. It's nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, ma'am. Could you tell me how to find the Trianon?”
“Let me think.”
Luke wished he could hurry up her thought processes.
“Seems to me it's down on Third and Wall. You'll have to catch a bus. It's a ways out.”
Luke started down the steps. “Thank you, ma'am. Maybe I'll see you again some time.”
“If you're here abouts, I'm sure we'll run into each other.”
“Well, thanks again,” he said, hefting his bag and starting down. He stopped. “Oh. Could you tell me where the bus stop is?”
“Just at the corner as you leave the building. Turn to your right. One will come along soon.”
Luke nodded and quickly moved down the stairs. By the time he reached the last floor, he was taking the steps two at a time despite his duffel bag. When he pushed through the outside door, he had to force himself to keep a moderate pace.
More snow than rain was falling now, and darkness had captured the city. Streetlights shimmered in the moist air. Luke strode to the street corner and waited, hoping a bus would show up soon. As if answering his wish, a bus appeared almost immediately and rumbled down the street, stopping in front of him. The doors whooshed open and Luke stepped inside. “I'm going to Third and Wall.”
“This'll take you there,” the driver said. “And there's no charge for military.” He smiled.
“Thank you,” Luke said, taking the final step and walking down the aisle. He dropped into a seat midway back and scooted to the window, dragging his bag out of the aisle. He gazed at storefronts and pedestrians. Some people ambled, seemingly unaffected by the weather; others hurried, hiding beneath umbrellas, newspapers, or shopping bags. Store windows displayed shoes, hats, dresses, and a myriad of other items. Lights inside the stores glowed against the night's shadows.
Careful to keep an eye out for the Trianon, Luke leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. In spite of his country upbringing, he liked the city. Something always seemed to be happening. Seattle on this snowy night, with its lights glowing and residents bustling, felt friendly.
Luke had already decided not to return to Palmer after he was discharged; maybe this would be a good place to settle. People seemed friendly. 'Course, he'd have to go home sooner or later. If it weren't for Ray Townsend, the idea would be inviting; but just the thought of that man living in his home needled Luke. It would be a while before he was ready to visit. Then thinking of his mother, Luke knew he couldn't put off the trip too long.
After making several stops, the bus finally pulled to the curb in front of a building with a brightly-lit sign that read Trianon. “This is it,” he said and exited the bus.
Stepping onto the sidewalk and into wet snow, he watched the bus drive away, its exhaust fogging the air with its foul smell. He turned and faced the club. A couple, their arms linked, walked out accompanied by the pulse of drums and saxophones. Luke gathered his courage—what would he say to Mattie? What if she wasn't here? What if he didn't get to see her before shipping out? He felt the misery of uncertainty.
His mind didn't quiet but carried him to an even worse possibility. What if she was here but wouldn't speak to him? The misery swelled. “Don't go borrowing trouble,” he told himself and walked toward the entrance.
Removing his navy cap and stuffing it into his back pocket, he stepped into a dimly lit room. A band blasted “The Hut Sut Song” and couples crowded the dance floor. Luke walked to a railing along the upper level that overlooked the bopping pairs. Leaning on it, he watched laughing couples boogie, jig-walk, and twist to the catchy rhythm. He searched for Mattie. After a few moments he caught sight of a woman with long, black hair bopping across the room. Luke's pulse picked up. He strained to get a better view but couldn't see her face. She had Mattie's build and height. It must be her, he thought. The woman's partner twirled her away from him. She turned—it wasn't Mattie. Luke pushed down disappointment.
He continued to scan the room. Bouncing, finger-snapping soldiers and sailors crowded the edge of the dance floor, waiting a turn with one of the ladies. People stood along the wall or sat in sofas and chairs placed around the room. Smoke, like a filmy cloud, drifted on a breeze created by skirts and flailing arms and legs.
Luke couldn't find Mattie.
All of a sudden he saw her. Light touched her face. He stared at the beautiful woman. A tall man with blond hair moved across the floor with Mattie in his arms. He expertly twirled her away from him, then back into his embrace. She looked up at his handsome face, clearly enamored. Luke's mood drooped, and he considered leaving.
She'd found someone else.
No. You didn't come here just to turn around and walk away. He rested his duffel bag against the balustrade, shrugged out of his pea coat, and hung it over the railing, then retucked and smoothed his shirt. Walking stiffly, he made his way down the steps and onto the dance floor, staying close to the wall. When he was near Mattie, Luke stopped.
He waited, hoping she'd see him. She didn't. Her dark eyes alight, her black hair shimmering under the lights, she moved with rhythmic grace. An aching pride and adoration filled Luke. She wasn't just another beautiful woman; she was Mattie, his comrade and—his love. What had happened to them?
When the song ended Mattie clapped, then resting her hands on her partner's chest, she leaned in close to him. He placed a possessive arm around her. Luke felt like an intruder and decided retreat was his best option. It was then that Mattie spotted him.
Their eyes met and held. Mattie's widened. As if sleepwalking, she moved toward Luke, stopping directly in front of him. She said nothing, but her eyes were sad and penetrating.
“Hello, Mattie,” Luke managed. “I was in town…”
“I can't believe it's you,” Mattie cut in, her voice a whisper. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes teared. “I heard you'd been hurt.”
“I'm fine. Got a little shrapnel in my leg and arm, but I healed up.”
“What are you doing here?”
