Three weeks ago Brady had been counting the days until his furlough with anticipation. He had not seen his girlfriend since leaving almost eight months before. His days were no longer filled with extreme boredom but with planning for his return. He had bought an exquisite ring at a small jewelry store in town. It was an antique, none other like it. A sapphire was set rounded by small diamonds. Two days before he was set to return Brady received the fateful letter. It was stated simply but in such few words he had not known his heart could be torn so violently. “Dear Brady,” she wrote, “I am very sorry but I can’t wait anymore. I have found someone else. I will not be meeting you in Washington DC. Love, Anna.” He had tossed the letter aside, tempted to throw it in the fire. “Love Anna,” he sneered, “What a bunch of bullshit.” That evening, despite all the horrendous sights he had seen and terror he had experienced in the past eight months, he cried for the first time. His pillow became soggy as he fell asleep, fellow soldiers passing with a knowing glance, for it had happened to far too many of them as well.
Anna had been in Brady’s life for six years, since she had moved in across the street when she was 13. His life changed the day her parent’s Ford pulled up to their new house and she stepped out. Her blond, curly hair, hung in ringlets around her shoulders and her blue eyes pierced through him. Her body was fully developed and her feminine physique made her look years older. His breath caught as he watched her through his open window. Brady and Anna quickly became best friends. They ate together in school, went to the movies together every Friday night and spent endless hours at each other’s house. When he was 16 Brady finally found the courage to ask Anna out officially and immediately the duo became the hot item. There relationship progressed deeper and everyone expected a marriage proposal when the United States entered the war. Brady was enlisted and shipped off to training. He came back for a week before going to Europe. That week Anna and him had spoken about there future. Brady had made her promise to remain happy, even it wasn’t with him. He was scared of the war, scared of not returning. She reluctantly agreed as her tears stained his uniform. Their final embrace at the bus stop imprinted a memory in Brady’s mind that kept him going each day he woke up to the endless gunfire, “I love you Brady and I will always wait for you.” She had screamed at him with bloodshot eyes. Through the next eight months her few letters gave him hope and he could barely contain his excitement when he was offered one of the first furloughs, “Anna dear,” he had written with shaking hands, “I am going to be in Washington DC a full week in January. I can’t wait to feel your arms around mine. I miss you more each day. With all my love, Brady.”
Brady had contemplated sending someone home in his place while he stayed behind, after all no one was waiting for him back in the States, yet his friends convinced him otherwise. Seven days to rest, away from the tension would help him, they said. So there he was, 48 hours after the dreaded “dear John”, he boarded a plane to Washington DC, where he was free for a week.
The first six days flew by as Brady slept his pain away. He woke at noon, showered and would walk around Washington DC. He was a regular sightseer. Despite his best efforts to bury his thoughts of Anna deep within him, Brady saw images of her wherever he went. For six year she had been by his side, even over in Europe. She had given him hope when the war was at its worst. Despite people’s visions of wars, most days Brady sat at his post, waiting for any activity while he dreamed of his life with her. Now what did he have to dream about?
Tonight he was determined to forget Anna, no matter what it took. He moved toward the bar and sat down putting out his cigarette. Picking up his beer he faced the stage as the entertainment for the dance appeared. That is when he saw her.