Italics denotes thought.
"Okay, this can't be heaven since I feel like death warmed over, but it certainly can't be hell, since I'm not out in the middle of a battlefield. Where am I?" Muttering, trying to pull himself upright and still groggy from his drug-induced stupor, Scott slowly realized he was in a field hospital. "I guess that explains the nurses."
Wanting to get up and move around, Scott started to pull the sheets off until he noticed the number of bandages and the sharp pain that followed. Gasping, he froze where he was. "On second thought, maybe I'll stick around here."
"Hey! You shouldn't move!" A frazzled nurse came rushing over from another patient across the room. "I'm sorry. We didn't know you'd be awake so soon. You need to stay in bed, preferably lying down. Rest, rest, rest!" The nurse rushed about straightening his sheets, pillow and IV while talking at a rapid pace.
Scott looked amused. "I think it's you that needs to rest."
"No time for that. Too many of you boys in here to take a break. Now, can I get you some water or something?" Her hands flew as she talked and she fussed with his pillow in a motherly manner.
"What's wrong with me and when can I get out of here?"
The nurse smiled but shook her finger at him. "Now, I can't answer that question, but I'm sure a doctor will be around shortly, so you rest and don't concern yourself with that. If you need something to help with the pain so you can sleep, I can take care of that, but I'm not Western Union. You'll have to wait for the doctor for information."
Scott smiled back at her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to add to your workload. I can wait."
"Good boy. Now, swallow this and get some sleep." She handed him a pill.
Scott obediently swallowed and handed the cup of water back to her. "Will I see you again?"
The nurse looked tired, but the twinkle in her eyes made Scott feel much better. "Probably. Now close your eyes and not another word out of you." Chuckling, Scott closed his eyes and began to drift off. Before he fell asleep, he wondered how many other men she had bossed into better health. That thought alone made him truly smile for the first time in months.
When he woke up again he vaguely remembered dreaming about Pittsburgh. Something was nagging at him and he couldn't place it. The more he lay there, the more he knew the nagging feeling was his conscience telling him to get a letter back to Pittsburgh. He had to let everyone at WENN know he was still alive. Especially Betty, although he figured by this time she was married and had forgotten he had even existed. That thought alone bothered him.
"Oh! I see you're awake again, Lieutenant. The doctor is making his rounds and should be getting to you in an hour or two." The nurse that was watching him now was a different woman than before, much older, with graying hair and a stern eye.
"Nurse, I was wondering if I could have some paper and a pencil? I need to write a letter."
"Certainly. I'll see what I can find."
Upon returning with the requested items, she helped Scott sit up as best he could and gave him a tray to use as a writing surface. "When you're done with your letter, just leave it in the envelope and I'll take care to get it where it's supposed to be."
"Thank you." The nurse managed to crack a smile and left Scott to his letter. He thought for a few minutes, furrowed his brow in concentration, and started writing.
######
The day had been going well...too well. She was almost convinced something was wrong by how well everyone was acting. The shows had gone flawlessly, the actors were getting along, and the sponsors were happy. Betty felt like she had stepped into some kind of alternate universe.
"Hilary, I just wanted to tell you that your portrayal of Elizabeth today was very well done."
"Thank you Betty. If I could request it though, having Elizabeth as an undercover agent to spy on Brent during another one of his bouts of amnesia isn't much of a confidence booster, and I would like it if we could get off this line of storytelling? People are listening to enough war news without it invading our soaps. 'The Hands Of Time' is a romance, not a statement about the insanity of war."
"Sorry, Hilary. I guess I just got carried away again." She let the statement hang in the air and turned to go back to the Writer's Room. Hilary looked after the retreating figure and sighed sympathetically.
"Going back to the Writer's Room to hide. But considering the circumstances, I guess that's to be expected."
Several weeks before, Victor had returned to the station specifically to talk to Betty. He was tired of her avoiding him and demanded to know what her true feelings were. They started talking in his office, but the conversation soon escalated into an outright argument...
######
"Victor, I can't make a decision until I know something for sure."
"And when will that be, Betty? You know that I love you and that I would do anything to make you happy, but the fact that we haven't spoken in three months leads me to believe you've made your decision already."
"What are you, a mind reader now? You don't know what I'm feeling!"
"Oh, but I think I do. Otherwise, you'd either be with me in Washington or keeping our house here. I'm angry, Betty. You won't talk to me. You just hole up in this room and expect everyone else to put their lives on hold while you sit here and type."
"What am I supposed to do? You run off to Washington at the drop of a hat and don't even think twice about it. Ninety percent of what you do there could be done here, but you still race to catch that train. When was the last time we went to dinner together? Or spent any time together?"
"We could spend time together if you'd come out of this room once in a while and actually answer the phone instead of having Gertie take a message. And I'm answering to a higher power in Washington, not a representative of GLOBE Enterprises."
"So I'm just a representative now, am I?"
"You're putting words in my mouth and I never called you that."
"It doesn't matter what you did or didn't call me. The point is that you're never here when I need you and it isn't fair. I shudder to think what our marriage will be like!"
Victor blanched and took a few steps backwards. "So that's what you think...that I'll never be here. How kind of you. To think that I would be so irresponsible as to not take care of my wife."
"That's not what I said."
Sighing and placing his hand on his mouth, Victor thought for a few minutes before he continued. "You're thinking one way and I'm thinking another. I've known this was coming, but I just hoped I was wrong. I guess we both know what this means."
Betty nodded, but her temper had vanished and she could barely get her words out now. "I didn't mean for things to happen this way."
"Neither one of us did. I suppose if this war had never happened we'd be married with no thought of things like Washington or separation. I didn't want our relationship to end. Not like this."
Victor crossed the room and placed his hands on Betty's face. I don't dislike Scott Sherwood, but I'd still rather you be with me. I guess I know now who you will be choosing, if he is safe and comes back home. But if he ever hurts you, you know I will be there in a moment's notice. You mean more to me than anyone else in this world." He softly wiped her tears away with his fingers.
"I will always care for you Victor. Please believe me when I tell you that."
"I do believe you."
"Thank you." Reaching into her dress pocket, she pulled out the engagement ring and placed it in his hand. "This belongs to you. I know you'll be able to find someone more worthy of wearing it than me."
The ring glinted in the light as Victor looked at it in his hand. "I will keep this, and hope you will change your mind. But even if you don't, I will always remember what we had. And I hope you'll remember that I will always care for you, too." Leaning down, he kissed Betty softly, and turned to walk out the door, out of WENN, and back to Washington.
######
Sitting in front of her typewriter, Betty thought of her last conversation with Victor. She knew she had made the right decision. She just wished she had gone about it differently. Now she wondered what would happen when the war was over. And she worried daily about Scott.
Leaning back in her chair, she switched on the little radio by her desk in order to monitor the broadcast. Five minutes later, someone was shouting her name in the hallway.
"BETTY!!! BETTY!!! A LETTER!"
Leaping out of her chair like she'd been shot out of a cannon, Betty flew down the hall towards the reception area. Gertie, Maple, and Eugenia were waving something in the air wildly as it passed back and forth between the three of them. Maple was in tears.
"He's written, Betty. It's a letter from Scott. He's okay! He's alive and he thinks he might get to come home soon!"
Shoving the letter into her hands, Gertie pushed Betty towards her chair in front of the switchboard. With trembling hands, Betty started to read.
May 1944
To everyone at WENN:
You don't know how sorry I am that it has been so long since I've written. I could make the excuse that a war makes it tough on a person to pen a letter, but I think you'd all know the truth behind that. I'm writing from a hospital right now. Can't really tell you more than that, but I'm still in one piece and if I'm lucky, the military will let me come home in a few months. If I can't come home, I'll be put in an office somewhere; my injuries won't allow me back on a battlefield. I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars for that. Someone has been looking out for me...I'd like to think it has been all of you keeping me alive these last two and a half years.
This letter will have to be short because the doctor has been around and I have to rest, but I promise I will write more often than every two years from now on. Piece of cake.
Scott
####### The smell of spring was in the air and those that were able to appreciate it had taken advantage of the situation. For the moment, peace had taken the place of those awful sirens declaring the presence of bombers or invading foreign troops. If it weren't for all the building rubble and bullet holes, a person might never suspect the people were going through a war. On leave for a few precious days from his military duties, Scott had taken his latest batch of letters from WENN to a table outside of a pub to read and enjoy. He still couldn't believe that after such a long time of not sending them anything, they wrote him back in droves. This mail day had brought him letters from Maple, Gertie, Mr. Foley, and Mackie. Maple almost wrote him on a daily basis at this point. He still felt bad about not writing her before, but they had discussed this over many months, and all was forgiven and forgotten now. He had even gotten a few letters from Betty, though they were short. He could tell she wanted to say a lot more, but held back, whether from fear or anger he couldn't tell.
His stint in the hospital had been long, but since it had been over, Scott began appreciating things he'd never thought of before. "Who knew?" he mused. Now he couldn't wait to start his life over again. "No more scams, no more cons, no more lies." He had to start over. Even, he thought, if it meant leaving the one place that had truly changed him.
"But where would I go?" he thought mournfully. Scott really didn't want to go back to Nantucket, at least not permanently, and there wasn't anywhere else for him to go except Pittsburgh. His "family" was there and they were waiting for him. He didn't know if things would be the same when he went back. He had gotten letters from friends that had already been sent home and had found it wasn't as easy as they thought it would be to get back into civilian life. Their wives had changed, their children had changed, and they simply couldn't go back to the way they had lived before the war. It was a hard transition and they seemed to be grasping at straws. "I wonder if everyone at WENN will treat me the same way." He wouldn't know until he was able to go home...whenever that was.
But that was a depressing thought and he didn't want to be depressed today. It was too nice a day to drown in sorrows and fear. Opening his letters he started reading and forgot about going anywhere.
Mr. Foley's letter was chock-full of gossip and hearsay. Gertie's letter was full of even more gossip and hearsay. Scott pondered whether or not ears across Pittsburgh burned whenever they shared information. Mackie's letter was full of jokes and stories to make him laugh out loud. He even told the joke about the elephant and the 10 bucks again.
Hearing laughter across the street, Scott looked up and saw a couple walking hand in hand, enjoying the day like everyone else. Something about it made him smile, but also made him a little wistful. Would there ever be anyone he could walk with like that?
Maple had told him in an earlier letter that Betty and Victor's engagement had been broken off and that Victor had moved to Washington for the duration of the war. Often, Scott thought back to that day in the office; back to his own dreams of what might have happened if he had been the one to stay and Victor had gone to London. Now, he thought, he wasn't sorry he had come, just sorry he hadn't handled it better. He wanted to go home.
Back to WENN and Pittsburgh. He had never felt homesick before, but it was almost overwhelming him now. He wanted to go back to where he felt needed and wanted. Romance wasn't even an issue anymore. Even if he and Betty never developed any relationship past being friends, he knew his world wouldn't come crashing to an end. He would always love her, but if she never felt the same, he could go on living. But he would never know how she felt unless he could get home to talk to her.
"If this war would just come to an end...."
He started to go back to his letters, but an odd commotion was erupting in the pub and down the street aways. He could hear people singing and laughing, dancing in an overjoyed manner. Grabbing the first soul out of the building, Scott inquired about the sudden party-like atmosphere. "What's going on in there?"
The old man, who had thrown off his years-long sorrows like a blanket, joyously exclaimed, "Hitler is dead! Germany has surrendered! Europe is free!" Impulsively he threw his arms around Scott and squeezed hard. Weeping, he then let go and left Scott standing by his table.
"I have to get back to headquarters," he suddenly thought. But in the background he could hear a radio blaring the news and he couldn't move. The news he had waited so long to hear had arrived. Watching the joy of people's faces and listening to them as the word spread like wildfire, he drank in his surroundings, lifted his eyes to the skies, and smiled.
Maybe now he could go home.
###########
As the strains of 'Jed Jenner, G-Man' came to a close, Betty stepped out of the control room to get some much needed coffee. What with all the news of the war coming to an end in Europe and picking up in the Pacific, she had stayed up late almost every night getting scripts re-organized in order to accommodate all the news from the teletype. There were stacks and stacks of scripts in order, piled everywhere in the Green Room, and Betty wanted to be sure they were put in their proper places.
"There! One less task to deal with today," she groaned. Sipping her coffee carefully, she thumbed through an old script from 'Sam Dane'. One in which Scott had played the crafty detective. Chuckling to herself, she remembered the times when he threw himself into the part, and the rest of the cast trying desperately to keep up. More often than not, they eventually took over and he had to figure out where he was in the script.
Ever since that day last year when he had finally sent a letter, she couldn't wait to talk to him again. She was glad she had written him. She just wished she had really been able to say what she felt. Mere words on paper couldn't do it, although it was somewhat ironic considering she could write scripts for radio shows until her fingers gave out, but couldn't get a letter written without some kind of apprehension.
She still wrote Victor letters every now and then. He seemed to enjoy getting them and helped her with ideas for new shows, complaints from the staff, etc. He wasn't dating anybody, but had made mention of someone there he was interested in taking to dinner. With that, Betty breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted no one carrying any torches for her. If he found someone else, that was wonderful, but if not, there was nothing saying they couldn't still be close friends.
Of course, much of what she dreamed anymore depended on whether or not Scott came home. And if they got a chance to talk. She wanted to know for sure if she had ended her engagement for the right reasons.
"I want him to come home," she whispered to the script in front of her.
"Hey, Betty," a voice suddenly said, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm gonna take Maple here out to lunch, so if you'd leave my scripts on Gertie's desk for when I get back, I'd love you for it." Mackie poked his head through the swinging doors and gave Betty a grin.
"Sure thing, Mackie," she grinned back.
An hour later, as Jeff and Hilary started the afternoon lineup, Betty enlisted the help of Gertie and Mr. Eldridge to box the remaining piles of scripts and stack them in the storeroom.
"Gertie, can you hand me that pile? I can put these in the broom closet since we seem to have run out of space everywhere else."
"The storeroom just needs to be reorganized so everything will fit," Gertie stated factually.
"I know. I'm just going to put these up front since we're out of boxes. I'll deal with the storeroom later." Arms full and almost overloaded, Betty carefully walked out of the Green Room doors and down the hall. A thin man in an ill-fitting uniform was standing with his back turned to her and the desk. He was looking at the pictures on the wall. Funny, she hadn't heard the door open.
"Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?"
She saw the man jump, as if startled, but he didn't turn around immediately. Slowly, he did turn to face her. Just like in her dream, she recognized him. And she dropped the pile of scripts into disarray on the floor.
"Oh....oh my...."
Scott didn't need to say anything, but overcome with emotion, he couldn't if he'd wanted to. He had waited so long to come home. He held out his hand to touch her, make sure she was real and that he wasn't still in a hospital somewhere dreaming. Her trembling smile was the most beautiful sight on earth.
Betty moved to hug him, to welcome him back, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she held him close and wept. To her surprise, he started to cry, too. She couldn't hold him up as he then sank to his knees and kissed the floor, saying over and over again, "Home...home...home." Her heart ached for him and for what he had been through the last four years and she planned to tell him so.
"Scott...."
He shushed her quietly and stood up to face her. "Not yet. There will be time for that soon, but I just have to see everything again. Make sure it's all still here."
"We've all missed you so."
"We?"
Betty smiled and wiped a tear from his cheek. "Yes, we. Come with me into the Green Room. I know everyone else will be so glad to know you're here." Taking his hand in hers, they started down the hall. Neither one knew what the future would bring, but they felt certain it would be an interesting several weeks, to say the least.
They couldn't wait to begin.
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