"Aren't they both keen?" I asked Betty Jane. "Oh, I do think I'm in love.   He's...he's...."  Betty Jane and I were sitting on my dorm room bed, talking about our double date evening at the movies followed by Cokes and sandwiches at the C Shoppe.  We'd barely made curfew and it was after lights out, so we were sitting in the dark trying to speak in a whisper.

"He's practically a stranger.  This was only your first date. And did you let him hold your hand during the movie? Oh my, look at you! Your face is bright red!  He did hold your hand!"

I pulled my knees up and buried my face in my skirt, trying to hide my embarrassment.  Betty Jane had known me for less than a week and already knew how easily I blushed.  "It's dark.  How can you tell?"

"You're not denying it.  He did hold your hand!  He didn't try anything else, did he? I sure don't want to be a fuddy-duddy, but my momma always said that a lady..."

"I'm a lady!"  I sat up straight.  "At least I'm no loosey goosey. I just..." I sighed loudly. "And it wasn't exactly our first date. And did you see how I stepped away just as he was trying to kiss...at least I think he was trying to kiss me."

Betty Jane scooted over and gave me a quick hug. "It's easy to see why you're carrying such a torch.  He is a dreamboat. In fact he's the..."

I whacked her with my pillow.  "You keep away from him!"

We both began giggling uncontrollably.  I knew Betty Jane was trying to be helpful, but I was in love.  Helplessly, hopelessly in love.   I knew it was fast; I wondered if you could really fall in love so fast, but it was wartime.  Didn't everything move more quickly in wartime?

That Sunday, he was waiting when Betty Jane and I got back from breakfast in the dining hall.   He was leaning against a column at the main entrance to our dorm, staring into the distance.  I saw him before he saw us and my heart began beating so rapidly I wasn't sure I could take a single step. Just then he spotted us, his entire face broke into a broad smile, and he ran across the lawn toward us.

"Didn't you read the sign?" I blurted out before I realized how it must sound.  He stopped abruptly in front of us.  "I'm sorry. That was rude." I apologized when I realized how I must have sounded.

"Signs?" He looked down at me and I realized just how much he towered over my 5'2" frame. "What signs?"

"The signs asking you to stay on the walkways. How tall are you?" I asked while pointing to a sign.

"An even six feet.  As long as I've been here, I've never seen a sign. I saw this gorgeous blonde over here and just took the shortest route without thinking. Look at you!  Do you always blush like that?"  He turned to Betty Jane.  "Does she always blush this easily?"

Betty Jane had been standing back, arms across her chest, watching us interact and I'd forgotten she was there.  I was only aware of the man looking down at me and the 50,000 nerves in my body that were tingling. 

"Why are you here?" Betty Jane ignored his question.

"I borrowed a friend's jalopy to take Andy to the train station and he said I could have it all afternoon." He looked down at me. "How about taking a Sunday drive while I still have some ration cards?" 

I looked over at Betty Jane and knew I was blushing. "I, ah, we, ah, you and me?" I stammered.

He looked from me to Betty Jane, at first confused, but then blurting out, "You're invited, too, Betty Jane."

"We were planning to go to church." Betty Jane offered.

Shoulders slumping, he nodded his understanding.  "I should have called first. This was inconsiderate of me.  It's just I had this car and we had such a good time together Friday night, and..."

"Let's go!   I grabbed his hand. "I just need to flip out."

"By the way, how tall are you?" He asked as we took off across the grassy lawn towards my dormitory and the sign out card file.

"Five feet, two."

He laughed.  "Five two, eyes of blue?"  I stopped and looked up to see the gleam in his eyes, knowing what came next.

"Five foot two, eyes of blue, but oh what those five foot could do. Has anybody seen my gal?

"Turned up nose and turned down hose, never had another beau. Has anybody seen my gal?

I signed my flip out card that I was going to be in the library and made sure we spent part of the afternoon there, but we also spent most of the afternoon exploring the back roads of southeastern Pennsylvania.  He said he loved the hustle bustle of big cities like New York and Philadelphia, but he felt most at home in the country.  So we saw lots of country.

And we talked and talked and talked.  I learned so much about him; about his background, family, wishes and dreams for the future; how he dropped out of college and enlisted in the Navy, but scored so high on his aptitude tests that they sent him back to school through the V-12 program.  He said he felt guilty at first, marching around in circles on a field in Swarthmore while his buddies were dying, but also thankful for the opportunity. I told him about my parents, my family and friends at home and my dreams for the future. I quickly found him to be a gifted story-teller, a great listener, and possessing a sharp sense of humor. 

And yes, I allowed him to kiss me. And yes, it was just as delicious as I'd imagined.  He was the first boy I'd ever kissed, and I was glad I'd waited for someone who'd matured into a young man.  Boy or man, it was nothing like I'd ever felt before. 

I also learned it's impossible to stop at one when the kisses are as scrumptious as his. 

I learned that he loved my blonde curls (he couldn't stop playing with them), my freckles (he counted the ones on what he called my button nose), and my blue eyes (he called them sapphires and me a spitfire).   

By the time the leaves had turned, we were an item.  Everyone on campus knew that I was his girl and he was my guy.  Most girls were happy if not envious of me, but a few felt compelled to warn me that nothing good would come from my impulsive behavior. Of course, there were those who reminded both of us where he'd be in six months or a year. 

We spent every moment we could together.  I' had a typically busy college schedule, but, in addition to classes, he had drills and grueling physical training each day. We occasionally found time to sneak into the library stacks for a few kisses or to grab a soda at the C Shoppe, but Sundays were his only free day. 

I'd known since our first date that he was leaving Swarthmore in December to finish his training at o Midshipman's School and he was checking his mail for his orders each day.  I was certain he'd train in Philly or Annapolis, but he had his doubts.  Those programs were much smaller than the ones on the West Coast and the need for junior naval officers was much greater in the Pacific.  Only luck would keep him on the East Coast beyond December.

He also was trying to convince me to go home with him over Thanksgiving to meet his family and friends. I was certain that Mother and Daddy would never allow it, but the closer it got to November, the more I wanted to spend those precious four days with him.

The moment he learned he had leave over Thanksgiving weekend, my dreamy sailor was on the telephone to Daddy, pleading his case and making assurances that we'd be properly chaperoned that entire weekend.  After Mother called his home and I made promises to be home for Christmas, they reluctantly gave their permission for me to spend Thanksgiving with his family, and I was convinced that he could perform miracles.  

Thanksgiving Day, I was a bit overwhelmed by all his family and friends, but their warm hospitality enveloped me.  I'd always been considered outgoing if not impetuous, energetic, and excitable, but was nothing compared to his family.   By ten o'clock that evening, I could barely make it into the guest bedroom.  I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

It seemed only moments later that I heard a light tap on the door and saw it open. Alarmed, I quickly pulled the covers up to my chin and sat up.  Then I saw who it was stepping into my room and wasn't sure how I should react.

"What are you doing in here?"  I screeched. 

He smiled and put his finger to his lips. "Don't worry," he whispered.  "My intentions are honorable and your reputation is safe.  I only want a few moments to say good night.  I didn't have a single moment alone with you today."  He smiled his crooked smile and winked.

It was the most wicked and yet endearing wink I'd ever seen.  I wanted to pull him to me and kiss him, but I knew I should demand that he leave.  Remembering the promises we'd both made to my parents and his family members sleeping in the adjacent rooms, I pulled the bedcovers back up to my chin and offered a cheek.

He laughed as he sat down on the side of the bed and pulled me to him.  It was more than a few minutes until he left, but, just as he promised, my reputation was intact. That was when I knew that my heart had been true and this was a man I could trust.

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas passed quickly, and we savored every moment together.   We sang and danced in the moonlight the night he got his orders for Annapolis.  While it wasn't as close as Philadelphia and was only a four month assignment, we could still manage a few visits before the unthinkable happened. Things had been going well for the Allies the past few months, but a few days before Christmas, the Germans launched a bloody offensive to turn back our troops in a place called "The Bulge." and there were doubts about a quick end to the war in Europe.  This renewed my fears for the future, so we didn't talk about it except in generalities.  We knew we were headed for difficult times, so I tried to convince myself that ours was a relationship that could withstand anything; time, distance, even Hirohito's or Hitler's bullets. 

A small ceremony for the V-12 students was scheduled a few days before Christmas and I stayed on campus to spend a time with my handsome sailor.  The night before the ceremony, he borrowed the friend's jalopy and we went for another drive in the country.   Unlike our first excursion in September, we spent very little time riding through the countryside and most of the evening parked at a scenic overlook.  I made it clear that I was willing to give myself in any way he wished that evening, but he chose not to take what I offered.

"I love you," I repeated over and over.  "I'm ready," I offered, although the tremor in my voice said otherwise.

"This isn't what I want for us. For the girl I want to..." He muttered as he pulled away from me. A slow crooked smile spread across his face. "At least not now; not here."  He stared intensely at me for what seemed an eternity before taking my hand.

"I'm not sure how to say this. I, ah... you, we're..." He hesitated and I could feel his hands shaking. "Will you marry me? Will you?  I know I have nothing to offer you but my heart, but that's yours whether you accept or not." 

That was the first time he asked me to marry him.   I cried so much I never did answer him and while he has always denied it, I think he was worried I was refusing him.  But I'd already given him my heart and wanted nothing more than to give him my life. We knew we should wait, but neither of us wanted that.  After all, it was wartime and didn't everything move more quickly in wartime?

We told his family the next day after the graduation ceremony.  While they seemed surprised at first, they quickly began kissing and hugging me so tightly I could barely breathe.  I was passed from one person to the next until the hat I'd carefully selected for that day was knocked off my head and trampled.  They insisted that we had to travel to my parents' home to tell them.  Knowing that Mother and Daddy wouldn't be as delighted as his family, we both hesitated...until his one friend gripped his shoulder and reminded him that he always did the right thing, and the right thing was to ask for my parents' blessing and support. 

That evening, after promising his family that he'd be home for Christmas and maybe with a bride, we stood at the train station together, practicing what we'd say, and hoping that my parents would give their blessing.

xxx

"No way!"  My father bellowed before we could even finish our well-rehearsed speech.  "You're barely eighteen.  You've only known this boy for, what, three months.  I've just met him now, and you say you want to marry him?" He stood up from his desk and began pacing around the room.

"We know nothing about him!  Who are his people? I've never heard of them.  He wouldn't be in college if not for some handout program. How's he going to support you? He expects you to sacrifice everything and wait around until you get some telegram saying he's dead?

"You're going back to Swarthmore after Christmas, finishing the semester, and he's going to Annapolis or wherever.

"I FORBID you to see him."

I glanced over, desperately seeking guidance from my new fiancé.  Realizing I was looking at him, he sat up straight waiting to pounce.  When my father finally paused, he stood up, towering above the older man.

"No disrespect, sir, but your daughter and I did not make this decision rashly.  It has been a short time ..."

"Three months!"

"Yes, sir. Three months.  For three months I have spent every free moment with this lovely young woman.  I have come to appreciate her wit, her intelligence, her talents, and her breathtaking beauty.   We discussed this...

"You discussed this...a brash man of no breeding and an eighteen year old girl..."

"Yessir.  WE discussed this.   WE recognized the feelings we share, and WE want to make a promise and have God sanctify our relationship.  I gave your daughter the choice of going her way and she refused.  I gave her the choice for us to write and visit if we can until the end of the war, and she refused.  And that's not what I want, either.  WE want your blessing so WE can spend as much time together as possible over the next few months and to share our lives once this damn war is over."

"And what if I say no?"

I began crying silently.  I'd expected my father to not approve at first, but hoped he see how happy I was and give in.  This was worse than anything I'd imagined. I looked at the brave young man facing my father.

"I cannot promise that I'll stop seeing your daughter.  I don't think I can.  But I won't demand that she reject your decision either.  I'll never stop loving her, but I don't want her to have to choose between us."

I stood up and grabbed his hand. "I love him, Daddy.  Can't you see that?"

"He's the first boy..."

"He's a man."

"And you're just a girl."

"No! You may have sent a girl away to school, but I've the heart and body of a woman."  I was screaming, now, and I'd never screamed at my father before.

"Get out of my house!"  Not knowing how to respond to my outburst, Daddy pointed to the door and ordered the possessor of my heart out of the study. I followed him.

My mother was waiting in the hallway, but I pushed her away and followed a solemn young man to the front door, begging him to stay while he repeatedly shook his head and donned his overcoat and hat.

Standing on the front porch, he promised me that it wasn't over. He insisted that he hadn't stopped loving me and he never would.  He was just as insistent that I had to obey my father, at least for now.  He'd find a way to earn the blessing we both deserved.

As he headed up the front walkway, he turned back, smiled his crooked smile, and winked. "Thirty-six," he called. "Thirty-six freckles on that button nose of yours, Spitfire, and I love each one."

"Spitfire," I recited to myself as I watched him walk away.  "That's what I am. That's what I can be."

xxx

I spent the entire Christmas week in my room, only leaving for an occasional meal.   I didn't speak a single word to my father, and only what was necessary to my mother, despite her efforts to comfort me.   When I returned to school on New Year's Day, 1945, I left a note to my mother.  In it, I apologized for yelling at my father, but not for having given my heart to an honorable, intelligent young man.  I said I would try to live up to their expectations, but couldn't promise what I might do after the end of the semester.

"You're back!" Betty Jane greeted me cheerfully as I entered our dorm room. "I thought for certain you'd have run off to Maryland or someplace by now."  Her bright smile quickly faded when she saw my swollen face and bloodshot eyes. 

"Ill kill him," she blurted out as she hurried across the room. "I should have gone with my first impression, but he had me charmed, too."

"No.  No, it's...we still plan to get married.  It's just my..." I tried to recount everything that had happened over the past ten days between sobbing, wiping my tears and blowing my nose.  Betty Jane sat and listened quietly until I'd finished my woeful story.  

Despite my half-hearted protestations, Betty Jane gathered all our loose change, my address book, and pushed me down the hall to the phone booth.  My fears were calmed when he answered the phone and I heard his deep voice. 

"Are you okay/" He must have asked ten times.

"I'm okay.  Not very happy right now, but I'm okay." I reassured him each time.

"I head to Annapolis tomorrow.  I'd like to swing by and see you. It'll only be for a short time."

"Please, please." I was crying again. 

Finally the operator broke in, telling me to put more coins into the phone and, of course, I had none.  We bade quick farewells and agreed on where to meet the next day.

I met him the next afternoon at the South Street Philadelphia train station and we spent the next few hours on a bench in the station, holding hands and talking; talking but never saying good bye. When the last train south arrived and he was preparing to board, he promised me that my father would change his mind and we'd be together soon. 

That promise carried me through the last weeks of the semester, finals, and another week with my parents.   At their insistence, I returned to Swarthmore for the spring semester, but still unsure where I'd be come May.

Thanks to V-Mail, I wrote to him every day.  His days were filled with classes and intense training, but he wrote almost as often.  We made plans for his first weekend leave in late February.

Of course, his original 72-hour leave was pared to 48, and then to 24, so I offered to go to Annapolis.  He balked at the suggestion, once again concerned for my "reputation".   By then, I cared only about seeing him and certainly not about appearances.  Not only did I board a train for Baltimore and on to Annapolis alone, but I skipped out of my Saturday classes to do so.

Any concerns about appearances or reputations were forgotten the moment he saw me waiting for him at the main entrance of the Academy.  It was there, in front of dozens of naval midshipmen and officers, that he dropped on one knee and asked me to marry him for the second time.  I cried as I took the ring he offered and allowed him to slip it, one his grandmother had worn, onto my finger. 

"Let's find a JP," he suggested once we had sealed our promise with countless kisses and I'd stopped crying.

"A what?"  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry more.  "JP, as in Justice of the Peace? Now? Today?"

He nodded. "No waiting period in Maryland. We love each other.  We both want to do this.  We can make it legal and tonight..."

He knew this was what I wanted.  He knew that he'd also promised that we'd get my parents' blessing first.

"My father..."

"Your father has softened considerably.  He'll soften completely once it's done."

"Softened? How? Have you?"

"I've been writing him." He grabbed my hands. "In the last letter...wait, read it yourself."  Pulling me over to a bench, he sat down and pulled a letter from his coat pocket and patted the seat next to him. "Sit."

I took the letter and sat down.  He pointed to the second page and I read,

We have come to respect your persistence.  That speaks well to your potential to succeed, as does your assurances of a position with the bank in your hometown after the war.  I am confident of your capabilities and sincerity.

However, our daughter is too young and inexperienced to make the kind of commitment you are asking.   Her mother and I fear that she will forfeit the opportunity for an excellent education in exchange for a hasty decision she may come to regret.  We believe that she should focus on her studies while you serve out your military obligation.   If she still wishes to marry you when she finishes her education, we will support her decision.

"Are you finished with your education?"

I looked up into his handsome face.  Moved by the crooked grin and knowing his wicked wink would follow, I nodded.  "Where's the closest JP?"

We practically flew through the streets of Annapolis to City Hall to ensure we got there before noon.   Once there, another couple was waiting, too. The other young naval officer was on the phone, trying to find two friends to stand as witnesses.  We agreed to stand if they would do the same for us; however, when the clerk checked our papers, we found that there was a two-day waiting period, one day more than we had together.  The other couple already had their license and could marry, but we had to wait.

"But I read that Maryland..."  His voice was cracking as he spoke to the clerk. "And lots of people elope here."

"The laws changed several years ago.  Most states have a 72-hour waiting period and require blood tests.  Our only requirement is a 48-hour wait." The clerk stamped the license form and handed it over.  "We open at 9:00 sharp on Monday."

"But his leave," I interjected. "We don't have until Monday."

The clerk shook her head.

"You don't have to stay," the other couple offered.

"No, we'll stay."  I shrugged.  "We'll share in your happiness, if not ours."

And so we stood witness for these total strangers.  Halfway through the ceremony I realized that I was mouthing the vows along with the bride.  I hesitated until I looked over and saw him nodding and smiling, encouraging me on.  After the brief ceremony, we offered our congratulations to the other couple, signed the proper documents, and left.  

We walked silently through the streets of Annapolis, unaware of the bitter cold winds blowing off the nearby bay. "What now?" I finally asked. "We have the license but it's useless until..."

"I saw you mouthing the vows."

I looked down and nodded, feeling my face warm.  I'd so wanted to be the bride speaking those words aloud.

"I did too."

I looked up and he winked at me.

"I said those vows, too." He hesitated. "Hey! We have the license, we said our vows. We can wait until Monday and I'll try to sneak out or we can go ahead and...

The rest is cliché.  We felt we were married, even if the State of Maryland didn't agree, and we did what newly married couples do.   And, of course, a month later I knew we were having a baby.   He still had that license; it was good for months, but we hadn't returned to a JP or a preacher.   

I feared telling him.  He'd received his orders and by summer would be risking his life on a battleship in the Pacific.  How could I tell him that he had to worry about a child on the way, too?

I never told him, but Betty Jane shared her suspicions with him (after giving him a stern lecture), he borrowed a car and broke land speed records to get to Swarthmore.  

Standing on the front portico of my dormitory, he asked me to marry him for the third time, insisting I pack a bag and we drive directly to Elkton, Maryland, where a kindly JP married us with his wife and housekeeper as witnesses.   

The subject of much whispering and gossip, I returned to Swarthmore Easter weekend to withdraw and take my belongings from the room I had shared with Betty Jane.  For four weeks, I spent my days reading and writing in an Annapolis boarding house, and my nights in heaven. 

He received a few days leave before heading west to San Diego and his assigned duty, and we used the time to visit with my parents.   My father continued to disapprove of our actions, but was resigned to them.   It was the best I could hope for at the time.   My mother was more concerned that I had refused her offer to stay with them and was going to live with my husband's family. 

My in-laws had accepted our marriage and unborn child without judgment and I knew that, come October, it would be a healthier and happier environment for our child.

I've never known the kind of pain I experienced that morning in early May when I put my new husband on a train headed west.  My heart was ripped from my chest as we kissed and gripped each other tightly and he sang the most beautiful words I'd ever heard. I knew he'd never make a promise he couldn't keep.

"I'll be home for Christmas, you can count on me. Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents by the tree."