In the dark, starry night in 1941, the citylights of New Orleans twinkled beautifully. The noise of traffic and a busy city echoed around the streets. Tall buildings rose high up in the air, which was cold from the previous night's downpour. Street cables and cars lined the roads. Three giggling young girls were stumbling down the sidewalk, arm-in-arm, while one sulky-looking girl was huffily trudging along behind them, her heels clacking against the ground.
"Oh, Lottie, cheer up, will you?" whined one of the three girls, tossing her head back carelessly to glance at the girl hanging back. "You're bringin' down my mood! Tonight's supposed to be kicks, and you're here lookin' as if you're goin' to a funeral or something!"
The girl behind the three set her jaw indignantly. "Don't call me Lottie. My name is Charlotte, Betty."
"Alright, alright, quit busting my chops," the one called Betty groaned. The four girls turned a corner and continued down the street. "All I'm sayin' is, Charlotte... you need to live a little, honestly. I love you, sis, but you're a pain in the neck sometimes, the way you just refuse to have any fun. Right, Sal? Lyn?"
Betty nudged the two other girls she was arm-in-arm with, and they both nodded.
"Betty's right," one of the girls agreed. "I mean, come on, Lo-- Charlotte. You're a dish. A Truly dish. The oldest. You never notice when guys make a pass on you, because you're too busy with whatever it is you always do cooped up at home on Friday nights."
"I reckon that's why you dragged me out here with you?" Charlotte grumbled. "I was supposed to find out the ending of my novel tonight, but no. Instead, I'm heading to a jazz club with my little sisters, of all people." Charlotte huffed.
One of the sisters, Marilyn said, "we just care about you, Charlotte. That's all. We want you to have fun!"
"Reading is fun for me!" Charlotte insisted.
Her sisters rolled their eyes.
"'Course it is," chuckled one of the sisters, a blonde one called Sally. "You keep believing that, Charlotte... oh, we're here!" The three girls all began to squeak as they approached the entrance of the jazz club, loud big band music oozing out of the front doors.
Before Charlotte could slip away from her sisters, Marilyn grabbed her arm and dragged her through the entrance with them.
"I'm gonna meet some boys tonight," giggled sixteen-year-old Betty, reapplying some red lipstick. She quickly checked on her reflection through her small mirror-- out of the four Truly sisters, Betty was known as the very beautiful, wild, khaki-wacky one. Her long blonde hair was curled and pinned, her peridot green eyes glimmering amidst her expertly-executed eye makeup. Betty was a loud and fiery girl (the opposite of her older sister, Charlotte) but her heart was in the right place. She was the second-oldest Truly daughter, being only a few months older than Sally.
Sally looked very much like Betty, and shared many of the same personality traits. Both being blonde beauties, Sally's difference from Betty was her short bob haircut, set in rigid, glossy curls. It was Marilyn-- the youngest Truly daughter-- and Charlotte-- the oldest Truly daughter-- who looked slightly different from Betty and Sally. Marilyn's hair was more of a light brown, honeyish hue, and the fifteen-year-old girl had a much more innocent and wholesome look to her than Betty and Sally. Charlotte, however, stuck out like a sore thumb among her lively, funloving sisters, both in physical appearance and personality.
YOU ARE READING
Yours Truly
Romance[Copyright © 2014] In 1943, Charlotte Truly is a nineteen-year-old American nurse serving in World War II. The oldest of four daughters, Charlotte is mostly a shy and reserved girl who keeps to herself. But when Charlotte meets William McCaden, an i...