Carrie Brady rushed through the turnstile to make the 7:30am Staten Island Ferry ride to Manhattan as she did every morning since moving to New York City over eight months ago. Funny, the crowds rushing everywhere had been intimidating her first day on the way to her interview at Rockefeller Center where NBC news had their offices.

A girl coming from a small town like Salem, she’d never imagined just how many people could occupy a single piece of real estate as New Yorkers did in Manhattan every day. Gone was her daily walk to Salem University Hospital, done to save her family’s gas ration stamps for more important uses. More often than not as she strolled the tree-lined residential streets with their porch-surrounded houses, some one would cheerfully call to her from their yard, porch or victory garden each family felt patriotically obligated to grow. They were people she had known all her life growing up in Salem. They had helped raise all the children, collectively, as is the case in most small towns.

You could almost forget there was a war going on in Europe and the Pacific unless you looked in the front window of so many homes in Salem. There, proudly displayed, were the blue star flags announcing they had a loved one in the service somewhere. Many windows had more than one. Amid the false tranquility of Salem’s neighborhoods the war would be brought home when young Phillip Kiriakis, working for the telegraph office, would ride his bicycle to a house delivering a war department standard-worded message that would forever drive home the point of war’s cost to the recipient family.

The blue star would become a gold one and a town would grieve for "its child" when they came home, if they came home. Some would forever sleep in places that hadn’t even been pronounceable before being a battlefield where they’d given their lives far from home for a cause they’d so strongly believed in.

Even being rich spared no one. The richest family in town, Victor and Kate Kiriakis, had two sons enlist. Lucas, Kate’s son, was an army tail gunner on a flying fortress, as the plane was lovingly called. Cocky as ever he wrote home from England that he knew he had shot down more than one German aircraft on the bombing runs over Holland and France and couldn’t wait until they would be invading the continent to retake it by land as well. It was a view his mother and stepfather believed was necessary but weren’t sure if they wanted Lucas to be there as long as it would take to accomplish. The more missions he flew, the greater the odds something might happen to him - that was their concern.

His half-brother, Austin, had joined the Marines the day after Pearl Harbor. Sent to the South Pacific, he had died in the death march on Bataan. In both cases Kate had tried to influence people she knew on the draft board like Roman Brady and Mickey Horton saying that both boys could defer enlistment until later, that they could contribute just as well at home to the war effort. Always a difficult decision, Mickey and Roman, had declared Austin and Lucas "1A", especially since both young men had privately talked to them and pleaded to serve their country as they saw fit.

Carrie had known Austin and even steadily dated him for a while when she was completing her degree in Public Relations at Salem U. He had been professionally boxing in Salem and wasn’t that bad. When he’d agreed to do a charity benefit for the Red Cross blood drive, she had interviewed him as an assignment for her journalism class. It was during the interview he had asked her out and they had had good times together going to dinner, taking in a movie, listening to 78’s on the jukebox at the Java Jive cafe. The only thing she had wished was that he liked to dance. With all the footwork a boxer has to do, it just never translated into dance patterns with Austin.

After Austin went into the Marines, Carrie wrote to him nearly every day using her most upbeat literary style. It was so important to all the servicemen and women that they receive mail as a constant morale booster. Austin, though not a gifted writer, was entertaining in describing the "joys of boot camp". He introduced to her in words to the friends he made from all over the US in his company until she could actually picture them and, when he could without giving away a military secret, he described what the jungles were like on the South Pacific islands he traversed. Suddenly, the letters stopped coming…and then, the news of his death.

Carrie had been stunned. She wasn’t in love with him but she had cared for him as a friend. To have someone so close to her age die made her realize she had more to give to the war effort. It was time to venture away from Salem and put her talents to use.

Her own family had a son and younger brother to Carrie named Eric away at sea in the navy on an aircraft carrier, the USS Yorktown. Marlena, her stepmother, worried about him constantly, trying to hide the fear that such a large vessel would be a target for enemy torpedoes. He sent two and three letters a day as though he knew doing so would keep his mother’s anxiety somewhat abated.

Though she told no one the person Carrie worried the most about after her brother, was her best friend, Jennifer’s, older brother Mike. Never daring to tell him of her childhood crush she’d had on him growing up, devastated was the only description of how she felt to learn he had enlisted as a doctor in the Army medical corps and had left for basic training before she had a chance to say good-bye. Typical Mike, unassuming, noble, soft-spoken. Not wanting to have a big fuss made over what he felt was his duty, he’d shipped out only a few hours before Carrie learned he was gone. Since he hadn’t written yet, she couldn’t even correspond with him.

She made the decision to go to New York and work for a news agency. Getting out the word to the American people using her publicity skills seemed suited to her. Despite parental concerns and several heated arguments, eventually compromises were reached, she had to share an apartment, not live alone. She had sent a resume to all the news services and radio stations in New York. NBC responded immediately, enclosing a train ticket for her to use and specifying a time she was to interview with them for a public relations/new information position.

Now, here she was eight months later jostling her way through the busy terminal amid all the rest of the home front line doing their part for the war effort and wishing she were wearing shoulder pads and a helmet to avoid serious injury as they disembarked into the area known as the Battery rushing to catch subways, buses or walk to their trench for the day.

The job was exciting and made her feel she really was a part of keeping America informed about the war news within the confines of censorship the military placed on the media. Still, she wanted to do more and it was her room mate, Jennifer Horton no less, who had come with her to share an apartment and work as a secretary at NBC, too, who got the idea for them to be hostesses at the Manhattan location for the USO.

The USO - a bit of home for servicemen and women far from their own. Hostesses talked with them, served coffee and donuts, wrote letters, listened and danced with them. The rules were no fraternization with the servicemen away from the club. Both girls found it easy to do until lately when a 101st airborne Screaming Eagle paratrooper named Jack Devereaux had caught Jenn’s eye. Strangely enough, the girls could eventually tell where a guy was from just by the way he danced. Certain steps identified them as from Milwaukee, Dallas, Salt Lake City, Seattle, Mobile or other places and the fun was figuring it out before he would tell them what city he hailed from.

The jitterbug was all the rage being the most popular of the swing dances in fashion. Frantic in its rhythm and after dancing nearly five in a row, Carrie made her way to the soda fountain to recover her breath before the next young man asked her to dance. With her back turned to the dance floor as she eyed the glass of ice water enticing her to quicken her pace before someone else took it, she heard a voice ask her, "Excuse me…may I have this dance?"

Another rule was never to turn down a young man who asked for a dance, so as much as her feet told her sitting out would have been the best decision, she took a deep breath, turned and started to respond affirmatively.

Her eyes first took in the shiny brown leather of his shoes, polished to such a high gloss she could have reapplied her candy apple red lipstick using either one as a mirror. The crisp creases in his slacks, jacket and tan shirt were the result of the best press job any uniform ever had. Every button on the jacket was shined until it nearly reflected light back at the beholder and the medical insignia glowed with equal luster on his lapel.

As her eyes traveled up the tall, trim serviceman Carrie eventually looked into the familiar blue eyes that had fascinated her since she was ten years old. Hinting of just a dab of Old Spice, he was clean-shaven and with the precision of the military haircut, his eyes shown even more beautifully beneath his army cap. Carrie beheld the handsome face of the one she feared she would never see again and the smiling boyish grin of Captain Michael Horton, Jennifer’s brother and Carrie’s childhood crush.

Offering his hand to her Mike he began to lead them to the dance floor. Unaware of anything he was saying but only delighting in the sight of Mike, Carrie placed her dainty hand with the candy apple red painted nails, to match her lipstick, in his as he led her to the center of the room where he placed his right arm around her tiny waist and they began to slow dance to a favorite song of the time "The Very Thought of You."

The very thought of you
And I forget to do
The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do.

I’m living in a kind of daydream
I’m happy as a king
And foolish though it may seem
To me, that’s everything.

The mere idea of you
The longing here for you
You’ll never know how slow
The hours go ‘til I’m near to you.

I see your face in every flower,
Your eyes in stars above.
It’s just the thought of you,
The very thought of you, my love.

Dinah Shore’s recording of the popular song filled the cavernous softly lit room. A change in the club’s atmosphere became noticeable. The high-spirited, rhythm-driven tunes of "One O’ Clock Jump", "Chattanooga Choo-Choo", and "Cherokee" that had moments before defied anyone to keep a toe from tapping, at minimum, were suddenly replaced by a dreamy, sentimental ballad. A hush spread across the room as more couples took to the dance floor.

Each serviceman seemed determined to dictate the moment to memory. It was as though they instinctively knew that at a future time recalling this moment would symbolize "home", taking them there momentarily and away from whatever it would be they wanted to escape. To know that inevitably for some of these young men they were the last women who would ever dance with them had hostesses committing names and faces to their memories, knowing that they would never be able to forget them through all the years to come.

Mike hadn’t said a single word to Carrie since they’d begun dancing. Anything he’d said as he’d led her to the dance floor was drowned out by the music and only compounded by the catatonic state she’d been in since finding herself without any warning staring into the eyes of the man she’d secretly loved for over half her life.

Mike drew her closer to him in response to the increasing numbers of people on the dance floor, which wasn’t that huge. The feel of his arm tightening around her waist and the drawing of her body closer to his only further accelerated her already rapidly beating heart. Mike had ALWAYS had this affect on her no matter how much she tried to control it. Nothing had changed since the last time he’d asked her to dance. She was taken back in time to that magical evening as she felt Mike gently sway the two of them to the music.

Five years earlier on Carrie’s twenty-first birthday her family had celebrated the occasion by giving a spectacular party at the swanky new dinner club, The Penthouse Grill. Though the Depression continued her stepfather, John Black, a savvy businessman who had invested well and taken care of those investments, avoided the disaster so many of his contemporaries experienced. He had spared no expense for the lavish evening, a black-tie buffet dinner for family and friends.

The entire restaurant had been booked exclusively for the evening. Flowers and candles adorned the room and at every table. John even found a six-piece orchestra who amazingly could play any request made of them. Each guest received a party favor - a complimentary bottle of French champagne that was produced the year Carrie had been born.

Austin Reed had been her escort that evening. He’d looked handsome in his rented tuxedo and had even made the effort to dance with Carrie two or three times. Carrie had appreciated his willingness to try dancing knowing he hated it almost as equally as she loved it. Open-toed black suede pumps proved to be an invited, repeated target for Austin’s feet. Leaving marks on Carrie’s shoes, to say nothing of her unprotected toes, earned Austin a pardon from having to dance the rest of the evening. Having danced with the male members of her family like her grandfather Sean, Uncle Bo, Roman, her father, John and Eric, Carrie resigned herself to sitting with Austin at the guest-of-honor table for the remainder of the evening watching everyone else do the latest steps.

As she accepted birthday wishes and chatted away at length with guests who came over to see her, the sound of the elevator door opening drew her attention. Everyone who’d said they would be attending was here already. She was curious who the late arrival could be. It might be someone who’d come to have dinner unaware that a private party had closed the restaurant to the public. Looking over her left shoulder Carrie beheld what she would always regard as the best gift she would receive that evening.

Stepping out from the elevator in a glorious fitted tux with blond hair reflecting the overhead lights like a halo was Mike Horton with a small elaborately wrapped box in his left hand. His eyes surveyed people until he saw Carrie sitting across the room and slightly to his right. A smile spread across his face as he strode directly to Carrie’s table acknowledging with a wave or "hello" people who greeted him en route. She was sure she was just imagining it but it seemed his smile grew wider with each step he took toward her.

To Carrie he was at that moment the epitome of Prince Charming. It was her secret wish that the gift he’d brought was a glass slipper. She kiddingly told herself she only hoped her dance-bruised toes hadn’t swollen too much making it impossible for Mike to slip it on when the time came!

"Happy Birthday, Carrie! Sorry, I’m so late. I wasn’t positive I’d make it from class in time to be here," Mike said in that voice that pumped adrenaline through her body the minute she heard it.

"Mike! I’m glad you could be here to help me turn the big twenty-one. Laura said you’d be lucky to make it due to your schedule," Carrie said attempting to keep from yelling out to everyone around how truly delighted she was to see him. "How’s med school going?"

"It’s challenging, sleep depriving and sometimes overwhelming…I love it," Mike chuckled. "I’ve decided surgery is going to be my specialization. I’ve already applied as a candidate for the fall."

"I admire your dedication," Austin interjected genuinely meaning the remark.

Suddenly aware she had completely forgotten Austin was seated to her right, her face became almost the same shade of crimson as her lipstick. "I...I’m sorry…I haven’t properly introduced you to one another," Carrie stammered unsure who to introduce to whom and finally deciding to acknowledge Austin as the unknowing, offended party in her guilty mind.

"Carrie, you look a little flushed. Are you feeling all right?" Mike’s concern apparent in his tone.

"Ummm…I’m fine, really…just a little close in here, I guess."

"Okay, but if you continue to feel warm, let me know and I’ll take your pulse to be sure you’re really not coming down with something." Mike’s concern coming through in his voice and slightly wrinkled brow.

Carrie thought if Mike wanted to be sure her pulse raced, holding her hand would certainly do the trick.

"Thanks, Mike, but I’m feeling better already." Turning to her right Carrie proceeded to do the introductions. "Austin Reed, this is Mike Horton, Jennifer’s older brother. Mike Horton, this is Austin Reed, the…"

"You’re Boston Austin, the boxer, right? I read the article Carrie did on you for the Red Cross charity match," Mike eagerly said as he reached across the table to shake Austin’s hand. "Quite an impressive record you have."

"Thanks, I’ve frequently heard about you, too. You’re quite a source of stories for Carrie." Austin responded as he innocently gripped Mike’s hand a little too strongly in his return handshake.

"Really? How’s that? By the way, firm grip you’ve got there, Austin," Mike emphasized with a comically facial grimace after withdrawing his hand.

Austin grinned and apologized, "Sorry, Mike, may I call you that? Well, I don’t ever think we have a conversation about anything that Carrie doesn’t tell me what your opinion is…

"Mike, would you like a glass of champagne or a plate of food? There’s still plenty left," Carrie hastily interrupted before Austin could elaborate further.

"That’d be great. I can grab a plate for myself. Be back in a flash before you know I’m gone," Mike said.

No possibility of that ever being the case thought Carrie. I miss you the moment I can’t see your face.

True to his word Mike was soon back at the table with a plate piled high in one hand and still carrying the small wrapped gift in the other. Pleasing Carrie to heights unimaginable he took the chair to her left seated himself and began eating. In between bites he carried on a conversation, catching up on all the news of shared family and friends with her.

Austin grew restless feeling very much the outsider to the animated conversation between Carrie and Mike. Spotting his mother and stepfather, he departed the table leaving Carrie nearly unaware of his absence as he made his way to the Kiriakis family group.

"So, things getting...serious between you and Austin? Come on, level, Carrie, you can tell me. We are best friends, aren’t we, just like you and Jenn? I shouldn’t be the last to know before you make any announcements about engagements or wedding dates," Mike teased as he gently poker her in the arm for emphasis. It was a ritual he always did to her when he good-naturedly razzed her.

"NO, it’s not like that at all. Austin and I are friends, that’s all," Carrie sharply replied.

The teasing tone was dropped from Mike’s voice immediately as he realized Carrie hadn’t appreciated his attempt at humor.

"I’m sorry, Carrie. I didn’t mean to touch a raw nerve. I really was only kidding. Friends?" Mike’s eyes showed his concern as he leaned forward to look into Carrie’s face to see if his honest apology would be accepted.

One look at Mike’s apologetic face and the moment of tension was gone.

"Friends. I just don’t want people reading anything into my dating Austin as being a prelude to something more serious. I’ve still got another year of college and I want to do something with my degree before I settle down," Carrie explained in what she hoped sounded like a well thought out reason to Mike. That is, unless that slipper turns out to be a perfect fit when you finally get around to letting me open that box, she told herself. Then forget what I just said.

While mulling over her last thought, Carrie was unaware her eyes had drifted to the box on the table beside Mike’s left hand. He noticed the place where her eyes were focused and grinned that adorable lop-sided grin Carrie cherished.

"Oh yeah, people are supposed to give you presents tonight, aren’t they? Feeding my face seems to have taken priority. Now that I’m apparently not going to keel over from hunger any more, I’d like to give you this with a special wish for a happy birthday, Carrie." As Mike handed her the gift he leaned toward her and kissed her on the left cheek. Instantly, whatever was inside the box couldn’t possibly be as precious as what he’d just given her. She stared at him as his face slowly pulled back from hers.

"Aren’t you going to open the box? Oh! However, before you do, I feel it necessary to tell you that I did spend almost twenty minutes trying to tie the perfect bow. Tying off bandages doesn’t require as much manual dexterity as I needed to get that slippery ribbon around the package," Mike joked self-deprecatingly.

"It’s wonderful. You did a good job, Dr. Horton. If this is an example of your dedication to detail, you will definitely have the best bandaged patients in the hospital," Carrie playfully retaliated.

Slipping the blue bow from the box to avoid undoing Mike’s handiwork, she couldn’t help thinking how it matched the color of his eyes. After removing the small, dainty flowered paper a black velvet box sat in the palm of her hand. Opening the hinged box carefully, she gasped when her eyes beheld the single perfect white pearl pendant on its gleaming gold chain.

"Oh, Mike, it’s absolutely beautiful. I love y’…it. It‘s so elegant," said Carrie emotionally.

"Can I assume you like it? I wanted to find something special for your twenty-first birthday as a symbol that you’re all grown up now. I saw this and could just imagine you wearing it."

"You could? I…I don’t know what to say, Mike. Will you help me put it on? I want to wear it right away."

Handing him the box and turning her back to Mike, she lifted her hair to make it easier for him to place the pendant around her neck.

As he struggled with the tiny clasp Mike said, "I want you to think of this as a "starter set."

"A what?"

"A starter set. I think every woman should have pearls. Someday, Carrie, I envision the man who will love you forever will give you a whole strand of pearls. So, until he comes along this will give you a chance to get used to wearing them."

Finally getting the clasp to cooperate, Carrie turned back to face Mike with the most loving expression on her face. Mike interpreted it as merely being pleased with his gift.

"You do it justice, Carrie. It looks swell on you."

"Mike, I really don’t know how to thank you."

"Well, I do. Would you let me dance with you? A nice, slow one?"

"Absolutely."

Glenn Miller’s "Moonlight Serenade" was beginning to be played by John’s specially picked orchestra as the two made their way to the dance floor. Mike in his tux and Carrie in the black velvet bodice, taffeta floor-length skirt gown she had hoped when she bought it Mike would see her in began to dance. Occasionally, Mike would smile at her as they moved gracefully about the floor. Carried knew at that moment on that night, she would love Mike forever and not just as a friend.

That realization came back to her, as Mike appeared to be saying something to her.

"What, Mike? I’m sorry. I…I...um, I was listening to the music. What did you say?" Carrie asked as she returned to the present.

"Glad you came back to wherever you went, Carrie. I said a least you don’t dance on my toes, anymore," Mike repeated.

Trying to remember if in the midst of her reverie she might have stepped on his toes, she immediately apologized to him.

"No, no. That’s not what I meant, you didn’t step on my toes. I was talking about when you and Jenn were taking etiquette classes together when you were ten. You got to the social dance phase of the class and you needed to learn how to slow dance, remember? You couldn’t seem to learn the steps so I let you stand on my shoes as I walked you around the living room at Grandma and Grandpa’s so you could see what the steps looked like. I still picture you in those pigtails, pinafore and saddle shoes as we sorta danced."

With that Mike gently laughed and resumed listening to the music as he maneuvered them effortlessly around the other couples.

Though Carrie smiled in return, her heart ached. She remembered her dance with Mike on the night of her twenty-first birthday as the most wonderful event of her life. Mike didn’t even seem to recall it. Would he always think of her as that little girl next door, his sister’s best friend first and now his as well? Did he just not see her as a woman and in particular one to love? Why couldn’t he? Well, for now, she’d take what he would give, a dance.

For the remainder of the dance Carrie turned her head to the left while her eyes remained on the verge of tears. It prevented Mike’s being able to see her face and the emotions reflected upon it. The song mercifully came to an end and not a moment too soon for her. Each word of the lyric was what she longed to hear Mike say to her but, it would never happen - not as long as he still envisioned her in a pinafore and pigtails.

The music changed to an upbeat tempo as Tommy Dorsey’s "Marie" began playing. Pulling slightly away from each other, Mike again looked at Carrie with those eyes she dreamed of nearly every night. Just before drifting off to a blissful sleep, she’d imagine what it would like be to be held in those strong arms and lost in the gaze of his eyes again like the night of her birthday party. Finally, the spell was broken as she realized this was no dream. Mike really was standing before her and they had just danced.

"Mike! When did…how did…where…Mike, it’s really you!" stammered Carrie and, before she could stop herself, threw her arms around his neck abandoning herself to the joy of Mike’s tangible existence after so long an absence.

Having completely left the ground during her exuberant hug of him, Mike grabbed Carrie about the waist to keep her from falling and swung her around in a circle slightly puzzled by the delayed reaction. Fearing they might bump into another couple or crash to the floor if he lost his balance, Mike slowly stopped turning and gently lowered Carrie to the floor.

"Carrie, wh…uhhh…are, are you just now realizing it’s me you’ve been dancing with the past five minutes?" Mike asked with a quizzical look on his face, not sure she could hear his question with the music blaring all around them.

"Mike, I can’t believe you’re really here! Well, of course, you’re really here or I wouldn’t be seeing and talking to you! If I was talking to you and…and you weren’t here then I’d be imagining you and then, you...you…you wouldn’t be able to hear me because you wouldn’t really be there. But, you’ve been talking to me, so I know you’ve heard and that means you’re here. I couldn’t be making up what I’ve heard you say – that means you have to not only be talking but seeing me, too, just like I am you!"

"What? Carrie, I...I may be here and you may be talking to me but great, now I’m starting to talk like you! Wha… I don’t understand how we got...What the hell are you talking about? You completely lost me about two sentences into this, for lack of a better word, conversation."

Staring blankly at the amused, though totally confused face of Mike, Carrie froze in place unable to speak another word. Her mind raced uncontrollably with the same sorts of thoughts she had been babbling for the past few minutes but finally and blessedly she seemed to have been able to stop uttering them aloud.

Oh, my god, get control of yourself, Carrie. This is not going to convince Mike you’ve matured one bit! Take a deep breath and speak to the man like the college educated, working woman you are.

"I’m sorry, Mike. It’s just that I’m so thrilled to see you. Your being here in New York is …such a shock. You took me totally by surprise, a delightful surprise, but surprise nonetheless."

Stop repeating "surprise" Carrie. I think he got that it’s a surprise already. "How did you ever find me and where have you been the last ten months?"

"Carrie, would you mind if we sat down over there at that table away from the dance floor and the speakers? Shouting is not something I’m fond of, particularly after having drill sergeants do it to me constantly through basic training," Mike joked as he gently took her by the arm and began to walk them toward the table.

The walk, though brief, allowed Carrie to further calm herself. Mike pulled the chair out, waited for her to be seated then walked around to sit directly opposite her. Carrie had often wished the tables were bigger when several of the hostesses and servicemen sat together chatting. There was barely enough room to set down their coffee cups or soda bottles on the surface area. Tonight, for the first time, she thought they were almost too big. Mike was close as he sat across from her, fingers linked together leaning on his elbows anticipating talking to her. She would have given anything to have him even closer.

"Now, to answer your question of how I found you, two words…my mother. She wrote and told me Jenn had come with you to New York, that you were sharing an apartment and that you had volunteered as USO hostesses in Manhattan. She said she felt better knowing you two would be looking out for one another. Obviously, Mom’s forgotten all the trouble you two used to get one another into back home."

"Yeah, well, we were a lot younger then. Jenn and I both have grown up, in case you haven’t noticed."

"Oh, I’ve noticed. You’re wearing deep-red lipstick and nail polish now, your hair is done up in curls on your head and I waited for three other army guys, a marine and a sailor to dance with you before I got a turn."

"You were here that long before you came over? Why? Oh, Mike, I would have danced with you first if you’d asked me."

"No, no, no…they were only going to get one chance, maybe. Not only have I danced with you before, but I’ll have lots of other chances to do it again. Besides, they were ahead of me and had first claim. "

Carrie’s ears alertly picked up the part about Mike having more chances to dance with her. As he leisurely chatted with her in that calm, reassuring voice she never tired of hearing, she felt the beginnings of the comfortable feeling she always had with him when they were being each other’s best friends.

That’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you Mike, Carrie said. "You never take advantage of someone or a situation for your own purposes."

Hey, let’s don’t talk about me, as wonderful as that subject is," Mike teased as a way of avoiding any more embarrassing praise Carrie might consider tossing his way.

"Okay, but if you won’t let me compliment you then I do have a bone to pick with you, Michael Horton," Carrie said in a stern, knuckle-wrapping way.

As he looked at her Mike realized that, though the tone was an attempt at humor, her eyes belied the seriousness of what she was about to say. He once again leaned forward on his elbows, watching her dainty mouth as she spoke so as not to miss a word.

"About what Carrie?"

"Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving for the army last January? I didn’t know until I got home from University Hospital in the afternoon that you’d left on the train for Fort Benning, Georgia. I raced to the station in case I still had a chance to tell you "good-bye" only to learn I’d missed you by a couple of hours. How could you not tell your best friend you were leaving especially when I saw you the night before at your house when Jenn and I were listening to records with you? What did you think I was going to do...cry…tell you I missed you already, make you promise me you’d write?"

"Wouldn’t you have?"

"Yes, but that’s not the point. You didn’t share something that was so important with someone you call your best friend."

"Carrie…oh, how do I make you understand this." Mike’s head dropped to his chin as he attempted to gather the words. After letting out a deep sigh, Mike raised his eyes to Carrie’s and explained.

"This war is affecting all of us in countless ways. All the bandage wrapping, blood drives and war bond sales I participated in were ways I contributed toward the war effort the first year. Mom kept saying I had a vital job being a doctor at the hospital, that I was doing more than my share by organizing air raid patrols in the neighborhood. She was always worried I’d enlist. She was right, I wanted to go earlier but I felt I had to try to get her to accept it before I did anything. The draft wasn’t likely to take me right away. I’m above the average age of fellas being taken. When Lucas came to the hospital to tell me he was off to fly in bombers, I knew the time was coming for me to make a decision."

"What made you finally decide?"

"I was in a staff meeting at the hospital with board members and department representatives going over the final budget for the year. I was representing the surgical service. We were interrupted when someone came in to tell Kate Kiriakis she had a phone call. It was Victor with the news of Austin’s death. She came in and announced it to everyone at the meeting and gathered her things to leave. I followed her out into the hall asking if there was anything I could do. She only smiled and told me – ‘only what you think you should do’. I went to the recruitment depot after my shift that day and that was it…they took me. It seems they need doctors badly."

"Mike, I didn’t know what made you decide to go into the army until now but I understand. What you still haven’t told me is why you said nothing to me about leaving."

Carrie, Austin Reed was someone you dated. You knew him. I had a link with him because of Lucas. You and Lucas have been friends for a few years, too. Then, there’s Eric already at sea on the Yorktown. I wanted to spare you seeing someone else close to you leaving for an uncertain future. It hadn’t been that long since Austin’s death. I just…I just…"

"You didn’t want to see me cry because it would have made it hard on you, too, Mike. Don’t you deny it. You didn’t do it just for my sake, but for yours, too," whispered Carrie in a barely audible tone all the while looking directly into Mike’s eyes. It was in them that the truth could always be found.

"Yeah, you’re right. Boy, you know me so well. I didn’t want to see a saddened, fearful face at the train station. It wasn’t what I wanted as possibly my last memory of you. Instead it was Jenn, you and I singing along and dancing to the records the night before and the smile and hug you gave me that night when I dropped you off at your house. I could live with that. I’m sorry, Carrie, for not being straight with you. Will you forgive me someday?"

All the hurt and anger Carrie had felt toward Mike about deserting their friendship without a word melted away. She watched how difficult it was for him to tell her the explanation for his behavior. She could see the small tremble in his chin as he finished. He lowered his head looking at his hands seemingly preparing himself for her to be unforgiving for the foreseeable future.

"I won’t forgive you someday Mike…"

"Okay, that’s fair. I understa…"

"I forgive you now."

Instantly, Mike raised his head and for the first time Carrie could see tears glistening in his beautiful, soul-bending blue eyes. It was then she realized her own vision had blurred a bit, too. She smiled feeling an immediate reconnection with her best friend that had been missing for nearly a year.

"You came to find Jenn and me. I don’t want to waste any more time with things that are in the past that we can't change. Okay?"

"Neither do I, Carrie, neither do I. Thank you. I promise never to shut you out again."

The smile returned to Mike’s face wider than it had been all evening since Carrie had first seen him. He knew he had been right in the belief that finding Carrie and trying to settle things between them would make the guilt he’d been dragging around go away. What still had him puzzled was why it had become so important to him that he’d had trouble sleeping for months. Did her friendship mean that much to him? He couldn’t answer that yet but he thought the answer would be more complicated than just a simple "yes".

"Well, now, speaking of my sister…where is Jenn? I haven’t seen her yet. She is here tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we always come here together so we have someone to walk home with afterward. She might be visiting with Jack at the soda fountain. I can’t wait for her reaction when she sees you. That will be one priceless moment. I’m assuming you didn’t tell her you were coming here, either. Jenn’s a terrible secret keeper when it’s anything between the two of us. You know…"

"Jack? Who’s Jack?"

"What?"

"You said she might be visiting with Jack. Who is he…one of the guys who works here at the club?"

"Ummm, not exactly."

"Well, ‘exactly’ what or who is he?"

Carrie could see Mike was not going to settle for anything less than the absolute truth from her. He would know if she told him anything less.

"If I tell you, will you promise to keep your older, protective brother personality in check?"

"Carrie, just tell me who he is. I’m already getting the feeling I’m not going to like what you tell me so you might as well just say it."

Mike now sat straight up in the chair, slightly intimidating in his rigidity while he waited for Carrie to talk.

"Well? Come on, Carrie, I’m waiting."

Carrie looked at Mike trying to gauge just how to go about telling him, took a deep breath and just decided to go for it.

"His name is Jack Devereaux. He came to the club the first time about three months ago. He asked Jenn to dance. They seemed to like talking. Apparently, his father is a Senator in Washington. We aren’t supposed to date the servicemen outside the club but Jenn told me he’s different. She wanted to get to know him. He’s discreet; he comes in a couple of nights a week; dances with Jenn maybe once or twice; has coffee and leaves."

"And?"

Mike was now in his full interrogation mode, the one Carrie had seen before when a new boy had showed an interest in his sister back in Salem. Carrie loved that he cared and protected his sister but she didn’t envy Jenn having to put a boyfriend through this

"And, he calls her at work once a day. They’ve gone to dinner a couple of times. He’s really well-mannered, handsome and intelligent, Mike."

"Then why don’t you date him?"

"Because I’m not the one he’s interested in! Look, just reserve judgment for awhile until you get to know him."

"I thought you weren’t supposed to see anyone outside the club. Isn’t that part of the deal?"

Rolling her eyes and sighing Carrie replied. "Yes, but it happens all the time. The girls are careful about everything. Even the supervisors are dating servicemen. Actually, I probably shouldn’t be sitting here talking to you for too long or they’ll start getting suspicious."

"Yeah, but I’m not trying to date you, am I?" Mike retorted with a note of supreme logic in his voice.

"No, no you’re not." Carrie hoped he didn’t see the momentary stab of pain his innocent remark had given her. "Surprisingly, a lot of the girls marry guys they met here."

"Oh, swell, I don’t think I needed to hear that right at this moment. Let’s go look for her."

"There they are! I’ll have them come over. Mike, be on your best behavior or I’m warning you."

Carrie made believe she was rolling up a sleeve and formed a fist aimed at Mike. He smiled at her antics in spite of feeling that he should be far more serious about the whole scene that was about to take place.

"Great, Carrie my sister’s involved with a guy who’s stupid enough to voluntarily jump out of planes. This just gets better."

"Michael, behave. They’re almost here."

Jenn saw Mike after Carrie pointed to her left where he stood beside her. Quickening her step to a run she enclosed her brother in a bear hug and kissed him repeatedly in her excitement. Jack stood next to Carrie not yet understanding whom the army officer was that Jenn was so demonstratively involved with for the moment.

After Jennifer released her brother, Carrie decided to take the initiative.

"Well, I guess we should all get to know who we are."