In Search of a Hero

Chapter 4: A Day at the Office

Brennan's fellow boarders were more observant than she gave them credit for, as evidenced by the quiet knock on her door the next morning, and the surprise of seeing Daisy standing in the hallway.

"You missed breakfast," she said, with a glance at the pretty china plate and matching cup and saucer that rattled ever so slightly when she raised the loaded tray in her hands. "I thought you might like some toast and coffee. Mrs. Julian said it was okay to bring it up."

Brennan smiled, touched by the gesture, and stepped back. Interrupted in the middle of dressing for the important day ahead of her, she wore only a full-length white slip, along with a pair of soft-soled slippers worn protectively over a pair of precious silk stockings. "How thoughtful of you. I . . . wasn't very hungry this morning."

The explanation was a small falsehood. The truth was that she hadn't wanted to face the curiosity and probing questions of the other women, not with the wound of her failed relationship with Sully freshly reopened. She knew the sudden appearance of the handsome sailor, coupled with her return to the boarding house barely an hour later, was enough fodder for a week's worth of gossip.

She wasn't going to be allowed off the hook, though. Daisy's gift, well-meaning as it was, came with strings. She set the tray at the end of the already-made bed and sat down beside it.

"I thought that might be it. Mabel said she heard you crying half the night."

Brennan grimaced with dismay as she closed the door. Obviously, the pillows she'd used to muffle the sound of her weeping hadn't kept the noise from traveling to the bedroom next door. "I see. I'd forgotten how thin the walls are here."

Daisy's face held only sympathy. With a thin pink dressing gown wrapped around her small frame and a scarf tied over the pincurls she'd set into her hair the night before, she looked like a young girl playing house, despite the worldly air she assumed. "It's okay. We've all been there. The man who came to see you, was he your beau? Before the war, I mean?"

Brennan moved the tray to a safer place atop her dresser and picked up the cup and saucer. She took a moment to savour the fragrant aroma rising with the steam from the ink-black coffee. Along with their weekly rent, the women who boarded with Caroline Julian pooled their ration stamps for general use in the house. Not only did the two pounds of fresh meat allotted to each person per week stretch further when combined as a group, but Mrs. Julian somehow always managed to keep a stocked pantry on hand, despite the scarce supplies and constant shortages in the shops. Not for the first time, Brennan had cause to appreciate her landlady's resourcefulness.

"I suppose that's an accurate description," she said finally, nibbling on the edge of a slice of toast before sipping carefully from the hot coffee. She closed her eyes as warmth spread through her body, then sipped again. "It's been almost ten years. We met in 1935, when I was chosen for an internship program based in Marco Island, Florida. I applied to other sites studying the remains of native civilizations in Arizona and New Mexico but the university sent me to Florida instead. I was the first woman to be assigned there," she added, and shrugged when Daisy reacted with an impressed murmur. "I'm sure they expected the hardships involved with working in the Everglades to force me out of the program altogether. I was the only woman in the anthropology department, and my professors continually pushed me toward more feminine studies. But I proved them wrong." There was no denying the smug triumph in the smile that curved her lips. "I spent two years there, studying the Seminole tribe and their history with the area, and their displacement when settlers moved in. Sully captained a fishing boat in the Gulf," she said, bringing the explanation back to Daisy's original question. "We met when he brought in supplies for our camp. We became . . . close."