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All the girls bade each other a tearful goodbye, as they left one by one to return to their homes in assorted places, and some had a long way to travel. The girl from Hawaii was going home with a friend from California, but her parents didn't want her to return to Honolulu, in case the Japanese attacked again. Thousands of men had died and been injured at Pearl Harbor, along with a number of civilians.

The girls from Japan had to report to the Japanese consulate in Boston. They were even more frightened than the others, and had no idea what would happen to them.

They had no way of contacting their parents, and no idea when or how or even if they would get home.

Kate got home late that afternoon, and when she did, both her parents were waiting for her. They looked frightened and distressed. The radio was on constantly, and they all knew that it was only a matter of hours or days before American troops began to fight.

“Did you hear from Joe?” her father asked her as she set down her suitcase in the front hall.

He had sent a driver over to help her with her bags. He hadn't wanted to leave her mother. Elizabeth was looking pale and nervous. Her father was impressed by Kate's composure. She seemed surprisingly calm, and nodded when he asked about Joe.

“He's flying in to Washington tomorrow. He doesn't know yet where they're going to send him.” Her father nodded in answer, and her mother glanced at her with concern, but didn't comment about Joe. Kate and Joe seemed to be in alarmingly frequent communication, but admittedly, these were unusual circumstances.

Liz couldn't help wondering how often he had called her before.

They ate dinner in the kitchen that night, with the radio on, and none of them said a word. The food sat on their plates getting colder by the minute, and eventually Kate helped her mother clear the table, and scraped the still full plates into the garbage can. It was a long night that night, as Kate lay in her bed, thinking about Joe, and wondering how far east he had come so far, and if she would be able to see him before he was shipped off to war.

It was nearly noon the next day when he called her. He had just landed in Washington, D.C., at Boiling Field Airport.

“I just wanted you to know I got here safely.” She was relieved to hear from him, but neither of them could explain why he felt a need to call her. This was definitely more than friendship, but neither of them wanted to talk about it.