A Duchess in the Pacific

Eighteen

We ate well and cheaply, and we drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and loved each other.

- Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

April was a slug. The days dragged by without any sense of urgency. Most days Duchess would return home from work in agony that the day was not over yet, there were still hours left before sleep. And she didn't exactly know what she was waiting for. But April was a slug, and every day she felt like she had swallowed one. May wasn't any better. She had thought that maybe when the month overturned that something would be different. But it was just the same monotonous ticking by of time, only with less rain. The only good to come of it was the victory in Europe. Duchess felt slightly better on that day, for nothing else but knowing it could mean that her friends' loved ones could come back home.

Jack and Frances had never seen their daughter like this. She hardly ate and longed to sleep all the time. Nothing could bring joy to her eyes; they sunk back into themselves and became a dull dark gray. At this point Jack and Frances would have preferred the old Duchess, who hardly spoke but would at least send them a curious arched eyebrow or quiet smirk. Even then she would still enjoy her hobbies: painting, practicing the harp, or even hunting. Though both Jack and Frances tried to encourage her to do something, Duchess was unmovable.

"Oh Jacky, Darling, we have to do something." Frances said in a worried tone as she slipped underneath the covers of their red velvet adorned bed. Jack cracked his neck and got in bed with his wife.

"Frankie, she's depressed. She just lost a very close friend." Jack answered.

Jack was concerned about his daughter but he seemed to understand it far better than his wife. It wasn't her fault of course, Jack had lost more people in lis life than Frances ever did. And Jack knew the story of what happened on Guadalcanal. How John Basilone was the one who found Duchess underneath Manny. But he couldn't share that bit of information with his wife. Not because Frances couldn't handle it, she was much stronger than him by far. He wouldn't because Duchess asked him not to.

"well perhaps she would feel better if she spent time with the friends she has?" Frances suggested the idea.

"Darlin', I don't think a playdate will fix this." Jack answered, tugging on Frances' night gown so she would snuggle into him. She laid her head and hand on his chest. He shut his eyes, tired from the day and nearly fell asleep. But Frances was wide-awake, her eyes shifting as she came up with her idea.

"Jacky?" She asked.

"hmmph." He responded.

"we could ask those girls to come stay with us. At least for awhile." Frances said. Jack furrowed his brows and finally opened his eyes.

"what?" He asked. Frances lifted her head and shifted to look at him.

"well I just don't think her being all alone in this big house is doing her any good. If we invite Irene, Linda and Lisbeth to come stay here, Duchess might not feel so lonely." Frances explained.

Jack paused to think on it for a minute. Not that it really mattered what his opinion on the matter was, if Frances had already made up her mind. But he was in the business of agreeing with his wife's ideas as of late. Frances had told him that it was a bad time to vacation in New Guinea and he refused to listen. And he thanked God that their Duchess returned home to them because Jack could hardly forgive himself for his idiotic blunder now. But if Duchess had died... well, Jack tried not think about what he would do if that happened. And in this instance, he agreed with his wife.

"We oughta make it a surprise for Duchess." He finally spoke and Frances grinned from his agreeance. She planted a kiss on his lips and laid her head back down on her chest.