‘‘All you think about is boys,’’ Sarah replied cattily.
‘‘And you don’t?’’ Charity laughed.
Not normally, Sarah thought.
The ‘‘adults’’ took their supper alone, too. Servants went down the buffet and filled plates for them. The ‘‘kids’’ went through a line. But then the meal was over, and everybody went to the playroom—a screened-in porch on the right side of the house. More ice was added to the galvanized tub, and more beer.
‘‘What can I get you, Miss Sarah?’’ Robert asked.
‘‘I get blown up when I drink beer,’’ she said.
‘‘Fix her a weak Scotch,’’ Ann Chambers ordered.
Sarah’s drink tasted like medicine, but she sipped on it anyway, so as no
t to look like a child.
She was more than a little unnerved when a warm hand tapped her bare shoulder (she had changed into a peasant blouse and skirt) and Ed Bitter’s voice said, ‘‘Dance, Sarah?’’
There was a phonograph playing, but no one was dancing, and Sarah blurted out this comforting truth.
‘‘I know,’’ Ed Bitter said. ‘‘I have been dispatched by my aunt because of that. She hopes you and I will inspire people.’’
‘‘Us?’’ she said. ‘‘Oh my.’’ But she had to giggle. She raised her arm so that he could take it.
They danced for a moment, and then he said, ‘‘Hey, you’re good!’’
She quickly changed the subject. ‘‘I understand you’re going to China?’’
‘‘Christ, who told you that?’’
‘‘Is it supposed to be a secret?’’ she asked. ‘‘I’m sorry.’’
‘‘Nothing to be sorry about,’’ he said, and he gave her a little hug. That pressed her breasts against his chest; but he sensed that made her uncomfortable, and quickly released her. A moment later, she felt her breasts against his chest again, and she knew that she had moved against him.
She felt strange, dizzy, confused, out of control, as though she were trying to run on sheet ice.
‘‘Dick and I have joined something called the American Volunteer Group,’’ he said.
‘‘Excuse me?’’
‘‘I said that Canidy and I are going over there with the American Volunteer Group, and fly for the Chinese. Against the Japs.’’
‘‘But we’re not at war with the Japanese,’’ she said.
‘‘That’s why we had to volunteer,’’ he said.
‘‘When are you going?’’ she asked. ‘‘How long will you be gone?’’
‘‘In the next couple of weeks,’’ he said. ‘‘We should be back in a year. I mean, the contract is for a year.’’
A year didn’t seem like all that much time. It was sort of like going away to college.
She felt his fingers graze and then flutter away from her brassiere.
And then she felt him, in front. It made her feel even funnier, all flushed and dizzy.
‘‘I need something to drink,’’ he said, breaking away from her, and she saw that his face was flushed, too.