“Foster residence,” Doug lass parroted.
“Got it. Tell my father I’ll catch up with him later.”
“I will,” she said. Doug lass broke the connection with his finger, then gave the operator the number Cynthia had given him. “As bury 4-9301,” a male voice answered. “Is this the Foster residence?”
“Yes, it is,” the male voice replied. “Can I get Dick Canidy on this?”
I’ll ring the major for you,” the man said. Canidy came on the line, answering with his name. “Early Bird Leader, this is Early Bird One,” Doug lass said, “Early Bird” had been their plane-to-plane call sign in China.
Canidy laughed happily. “You bastard, where are you?”
“I am sitting here with Commander Bitter, no less, three good-looking ladies, gallons of booze, and a baby. The important question is, where the bell are you?”
“I’m sitting here up to my ass in fuel-consumption charts,” Canidy said.
Ann became aware that her heart was beating; and when she put her fingers to her cheek, she confirmed that her face was flushed.
“Where’s there?” There was a hesitation before Canidy answered. “On the seashore, near Lakehurst NAS,” he said. “Well, drop whatever you’re doing, get on a train, and come here before Bitter drinks all the booze.”
“Christ, I wish I could, Doug,” Canidy said. “But it’s out of the question.”
“Why is it out of the question?”
“I’ve got the duty.”
“Over the whole god damned Fourth of July weekend?”
“Over the whole god damned Fourth of July weekend,” Canidy confirmed.
“I’m really sorry, Doug. I just can’t.”
“Ah, shit!” Doug lass said, disappointed but understanding. “It would have been fun. Well, at least say hello to the commander and the girls.”
He handed the telephone to Bitter. “What was that “Early Bird’ business?” Charity asked. “That was our call sign in China,” Doug lass said. “What’s this story I heard about Canidy being sent home for cowardice?” Ann asked. “Bullshit is what it was,” Doug lass said.
“They used that story to explain why he suddenly took off to work for my father. Christ, the first time out, he attacked-by himself-nine jap bombers and shot down five of them. He was the first ace in the AVG.”
Ann looked at Ed Bitter in triumph. Then she took the telephone from him, “Hello, Dick, how are you? This is Ann Chambers. Remember me?”
“What’s a nice girl like you doing with those two?” Canidy replied.
“It’s all right,” she said.
“We have Sarah as a chaperone.” Sarah took that as her cue to take the telephone. Ann gave it up willingly. Now that I finally had the chance to talk to him, I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. But by the time everybody, including Charity, had talked to Canidy and the phone was back in its usual place, she did have something to say. “I think I know where he is,” she said.
“On the seashore, near Lake burst.” Doug lass looked at her curiously.
“My father and Chesley Hay wood Whittaker were friends. Chesly Whittaker had a big place on the shore at Deal. Summer Place. I was there once with my father,” Ann said.
“I’ll bet that’s where he is.”
“That makes sense,” Doug lass said.
“Donovan and my father have taken over the Whittaker place here in D.C. But so what?”
“So, no matter what he’s doing, I don’t think he’ll be doing it on the Fourth. If you two wanted to see him, I mean.”
“Damn right I want to see him,” Ed Bitter said, a little thickly. The alcohol was getting to him.
“Jesus, I owe him an apology.”
“Yes, I think you do,” Ann said, reinforcing that argument.
“The seashore sounds splendid to me,” Charity offered. “Anyplace but this steam bath.”
“But how would we get there?” Bitter asked reasonably.
“I don’t want to take the baby on a train. And it would take forever.
And we don’t know he’s where you think he is.”
“We can drive,” Doug lass said. “You need gas to drive,” Bitter said.
“The tank in your car is full,” Doug lass said.
“And there’s a hundred gallons’ worth of coupons in the glove compartment.” Ed Bitter, surprising his wife, accepted the black-market gasoline and ration coupons without comment. But, as if he sensed that they really shouldn’t be going through with their plan, he offered a last objection. “Who’s going to drive?” he asked, focusing his eyes with an effort on Doug lass.