Part I
One rarity in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher was the exit of Rose Thatcher from said house. She was almost the definition of a recluse. Rose was content with things being this way, however. She was not lacking in social graces but detested the idea of exhibiting them. Her life at home kept her busy; the constant cleaning and gardening was never dull. The late afternoon was the only time of day Rose would look forward to. She would set everything aside and begin to make dinner for her husband. He would come home, worn out and tired but always enthusiastic to see his wife. The life of a doctor was not always easy but it brought them good money. John Thatcher was often criticized by his upper class patients for offering service to the poor. Each time John reasoned with morality. He had a strong sense of duty, something that Rose greatly admired. Admiration however was not the only reason for their marriage. He changed the way she viewed herself and the world. Rose seemed to come alive when John was with her; for anytime they were apart she seemed to be a very dismal woman.
She was in the process of making dinner when her John entered through the kitchen door. Rose had been starting later because John had been coming home later but today as it seemed John graced the house with his unusually early presence. No words had to be spoken, for even in their young years they understood each other.
“Things don’t look too good in the Pacific,” John said with solemnity. “They are in need of men for all positions.”
“John you know you can’t go and play soldier.”
“It’s not a game Rose.”
She stepped away from him. Lately he had become increasingly irritated with her. At least, that is what she thought. He was far from irritated with her. John was frustrated with the war and his colleagues. None were willing to join up as Army doctors, despite the obvious need for them. He sat down in the white wicker chair and barely heard his wife say, “It’ll only be a few more minutes.”
Later that night Rose sat in front of her vanity mirror brushing her blonde locks. Her smile had been long gone and her eyes were tired. Strong and precise hands rested on her bare shoulders. John whispered into her ear, “come to bed, you must be tired. We’ve both had long days.”
She did not reply with words but rather crawled beneath the covers. Sleep did not come to Rose that night. She tossed and turned and sighed with discontent. The moonlight shone into their bedroom and bounced off the ivory walls. Knowing that she would not rest tonight, Rose lifted herself from the bed. She wrapped her robe around her body and slipped out the front door. Grass surrounded the house for only a few feet then blended with the hot sand. Her delicate foot sank into it as she walked towards the water. A few shells lay upon the sand, the color worn from them. Rose thought she saw a sand crab scuttle across but she couldn’t be sure.
The moon illuminated the waves, making the milky foam seem fluorescent. The echo of the waves off the barnacle covered rocks was almost eerie, yet had a calming quality at the same time. Rose sat in the sand and let the waves roll over her feet. She closed her eyes and let the sounds of the night put her to sleep.
Part II
Rose stood clad in a white cotton dress staring out the window. In her hand was a letter, tied with a red ribbon and the seal still unbroken. The ink was running where her name was written in elegant script. With a trembling hand she wiped her face. She knew that writing well. Her husband had written it many times before in sweet love letters while they were still courting. Rose knew that this one would not be such a letter. John had left several days earlier, without a word. Just a kiss on the cheek. He had taken with him only a few of his belongings. As another tear fell Rose realized that she could not put this off any longer. The seal broke and almost immediately her eyes welled up as she read the first line. He had joined up as an army doctor. Quickly she read the rest of it. Even if I come out of this alive, I cannot return. War changes a man. It had already begun to change me even before I left. I still love you, and I want you to remember me as I was. As Rose’s world suddenly crashed down she placed her hand over her stomach as if to be sick. She threw it into the fireplace and dried her eyes. Things had become increasingly strained in the house, and Rose had only herself to blame for that. She knew she could not hold back such a strong willed man. Looking out the window again, the warm sun beckoned her. Rose grabbed her straw hat and opened that door. The scent of the sea breeze welcomed her. Barefoot she walked out onto the dock that was their backyard. Rose looked down into the dark water. That too welcomed her.
John sat on the deck of the ship. The sun burned the back of his neck and the sea reeked of battle. He rested his head in his hand in deep contemplation. Where would he go after this? Not home. One of his crew mates handed him a letter. It was from his mother-in-law. He read it, choking back a sob. The sirens sounded as Japanese bombers flew overhead. As the second bomb dropped, the husband did after all return to his wife, for they were never meant to be apart.
