The Stolen Weekend

The Stolen Weekend

By James C. Dedman

Edited By Daryl Debunhurst

Copyright 2015 James Dedman

Smashwords Edition

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Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead (Except historical figures) is purely coincidental)

This book is dedicated to all the Americans who remember and seek remembrance of December 7, 1941 - the day that America changed forever.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: A Moral Compromise

Chapter 2: A Perfect Island Morning

Chapter 3: A Picnic Lunch

Chapter 4: A Long, Dull Afternoon

Chapter 5: "Dinner at the Chicago House"

Chapter 6: An Evening In

Chapter 7: The Shrine Bowl Game

Chapter 8: The Cabaret

Chapter 9: A Perfect Night

Chapter 10: The Surprise Attack

Chapter 11: The Second Wave

Chapter 12: The Beach

Chapter 13: The Terror By Night

Chapter 14: The Speech By Day

Chapter 15: The New Normal

Chapter 16: A Drink With Susan

Chapter 17: A Flying Lesson

Chapter 18: How Important a Small Thing Can Be

Chapter 19: Another Weekend

Chapter 20: "At Last"

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Chapter 1

A Moral Compromise

Saturday, November 29, 1941, night

George Grant was at heart a very moral man. He devoutly believed in God and subscribed completely to the Christian moral code, at least in principle. But on Saturday night, November 29, 1941, he was lying naked on a large bed in the luxury suite of the Moana Hotel in downtown Honolulu, Hawaii, listening to the radio station play a Glen Miller recording. As he did, George was reflecting upon or perhaps rationalizing his decision to compromise the moral code he so firmly believed in and not subscribe to it in practice. Rationalization. That was a good way to explain what he was doing now. He was very clearly making up excuses to engage in conduct he normally did not approve of at all.

Lying next to him, also with no clothes on, was the driving force behind his compromise: Georgiana McClellan, the most beautiful and desirable woman he had ever known.

But George’s intense love for Georgiana was driven by much more than her physical looks. She was a very serious, intelligent woman. An army nurse with the rank of captain, she worked at the army headquarters in Honolulu, coordinating all the other nurses for the army and reporting directly to General Short. She had a sharp wit; long before he ever made love to her he discovered that he loved to engage her mind. They always had the most amazing discussions. Both of them loved to talk, and they especially loved to talk to each other.

Georgiana was nearly the most perfect woman he had ever met. In almost every possible way she was the perfect mate to him—except one. She was much younger than he was. George was 42 and Georgiana was 29. Her youth was the single mark against her in a tally of her qualities, but only in the mental construction of his rationalization. Anyone of a worldlier mind would have said it was another plus.

Perhaps there was another, more serious flaw: reluctance to actually marry him. George had proposed marriage to her numerous times and, while she had not firmly and forever declined his proposal, she had not affirmatively accepted him either. He spent the entire month of November making marriage proposals to her, arguing and discussing the merits of their union with her countless times without any success. So he rationalized his decision to behave as one who was already married to her. If desire and ambition matched reality, they would be married. In his mind they were married. But George knew that this thinking was intended to rationalize his moral compromise to have what he wanted from her.

I know what you are thinking, George, she sighed calmly. Her voice was distinctly from the Midwest. In anyone else it might have been irritating, being without any inflection, but George was so in love as to think her voice was musical. He had lived most of his life in southern California. Her intonations were exotic to him and he loved every detail about her. He loved to listen to her speak, even if he did not like what she was saying. The answer is still no, she continued, And I don’t want to say any more about it. That was unusual for her. They usually talked about matters again and again, repeating conversations many times before finally being done with a subject.

Is your control over me so great that you now want to monitor and censor what I even think? George replied in the light, teasing tone that characterized so many of their conversations. They both had wit and great senses of humor. Perhaps that was why they talked so much. Their relationship was full of friendly verbal fencing.

George-- she started warningly, but from the corner of his eye he saw her smile.

May I not sit here and reflect upon your grace, charm and beauty? May I not lay here and wish this could go on all the time? Am I not allowed to even wish that in my heart of hearts? His tone was teasing, but there was some truth behind his words.

I suppose I am flattered that you think all that, she answered, followed by a beautiful sigh that gave him just a sliver of hope that her resolve might be weakening. "I just want to enjoy what we have and not reflect upon what we don’t. I am enjoying the evening very much and do not want it spoiled by a discussion of marriage." She pronounced the last word like it was a matter of great disdain to her. She might just have said she did not want to spoil their evening by a discussion of sewage disposal or urban waste systems.

What we have is love, George told her, rolling onto his side and kissing her. Then he looked at her. He loved to look at her. She was so perfectly made. He ran his hand across her soft, perfect body. It was also quite amazing that she could read his thoughts so perfectly. How could she not see they belonged together in a wedded state?

I love you, George, she replied, kissing him back. I would not be in bed with you otherwise. I know everyone on the island thinks a divorced woman is a libertine, ripe for seduction, but I have not been with anyone since my marriage ended. Do you imagine to batter down all my resolutions as you did this one? You do, don’t you? The last question was really an accusation and delivered without emotion, inflection or even censure.

I know that, George reminded her. He avoided answering her question directly as that was indeed his ambition. He fully intended to pursue her until she agreed to marry him, but there was no reason to admit it tonight and he certainly would not deny it.

I have not gone on a romantic date since my divorce five years ago, she continued. You are the great exception to my resolve to be celibate.

"So would you say I am the rebound romance then?" George teased her lightly, trying to move the conversation away from anything serious.

She giggled at his suggestion before answering. No, you are the perfect man. You love me and you let me do whatever I want. She said that with some warmth and feeling.

Not from my good character, he corrected her. I only do what I must to try and win you forever. It is very selfish of me, actually, George sat up. He was warm from the . . . physical activity and looked to open the hotel window.

George-- It was the same kind of warning as before.

Pretending to ignore her tone, he opened the window just a little and let the soft November Hawaiian breeze waft gently into the room. Were I any other kind of man, this arrangement would be perfect, he went in the other direction, back to where his mind had been going before she spoke.

It may not be perfect, but it works, Georgiana observed. They had this conversation many times and there was nothing new either of them could say about it. We are able to love each other in a physical way and you maintain your mantle of respectability.

"Some of the people you work with are likely to figure out we spent the evening at the Moana Hotel," George warned her.

It will only fit with what they think anyway about divorced women, she answered him. "Most people think they overly worldly and that nurses are even worse. Do you know that army nurses actually see soldiers naked? She used a funny voice for the last sentence, imitating some busybodies she had obviously encountered before. However, we are adults and may do what we want. She paused a moment. Well, one of us is an adult."

Are you again inferring that I am not? George objected, looking at her over his shoulder. It was one of her favorite themes: enumerating his many fictional character flaws. She did not think it was a horrible trait and his childishness amused her most of the time. She clearly admired and respected his character and the flaws were only exaggerated for their conversations.

No, this is very adult of you. I understand perfectly how you have to keep this a secret from your daughter, Georgiana continued, putting her hand on his back in a fond way. Amelia is far too young to understand and you are setting an example for her.

Yes, my example is sneaking around, lying, and hiding what I am doing, George was not happy with himself at all in that regard. Since her mother’s death I have never done that before.

Well, not doing it is not an option for either of us, Georgiana observed, lifting herself up onto an elbow so she could look into his eyes. You can’t tell her the truth. I am also sure you cannot give me up.

That sounds like a boast, George objected, laying back onto the bed now and smiling. But he knew it was true. He could not give Georgiana up.

I am the same way, she quickly asserted, touching his arm. I am not boasting. I could just as easily have said I won’t give you and this up. Having tasted the forbidden fruit and entangled my emotions with you in this very physical way, I have to have you love me, bodily. I just do. I suppose you could take advantage of me and insist that we get married or end it.

"I would never do that!" George asserted.

"I know you never would and that is why my no is not a final answer. I am seriously thinking the marriage thing over. I really am. I am reevaluating it in the slow way we people from Ohio have of considering matters when we are mature adults. I know it is an incredible waste of money for you to buy the best room in the Moana Hotel for us to use for three hours on a Saturday night. That waste of money does bother me. I am at heart a frugal person."

It is only the best use of money ever! he objected, rising again on one elbow to meet her gaze. George was slightly encouraged by her words.

Yes. I see that too. You can return me to my dormitory before one and you can be home to see your father and your daughter as if this were just an ordinary date and nothing of this nature had occurred, she continued. They may presume we went to the cinema and had a coke afterwards. Or maybe that we went dancing all evening?

My daughter knows there is nothing ordinary about you, George said. I have told her I am madly in love with you and have asked you to marry me.

She was not upset by that revelation?

Not a bit, George asserted. She likes you a good deal. These last two months we have done quite a bit together. I am sure she would love for us to be together all the time. I am not arguing with you, just answering your question. George did not want her to think he was making another pitch for his marriage request when she told him not to. He knew he could not just persist without making her angry. This was the best discussion on the matter they had ever had and he did not want to press her when she might be led to the right answer eventually.

I would think she might resent someone coming in to take her mother’s place, Georgiana speculated.

She does not remember her mother, so there is no place to take. Amelia was four when her mother died. She has lived eleven years absent a mother.

She had you.

"Indeed. But there were times I know she wanted a mother. I know she would take you, too. You are the first woman I have dated that she did not call a vacuous gold digger."

Georgiana giggled at that term.

George went on. Amelia is no problem. Remember I am not advocating anything right now, just answering your questions. Amelia already asks you some of those questions all the other girls ask their mother.

And by doing this secretly as we are, all that may continue, Georgiana replied with self-assurance. She had it all figured out. That was in the tone of her voice. If you never admit it, she will never know; remember that George! She was emphatic on the last point like it was something he was capable of forgetting or overlooking.

Yes, sir, he answered and pretended to salute.

What did you tell her about my answer? Georgiana wondered.

I lied. I told her you were considering the matter.

It is not a lie, I am thinking about it, Georgiana slapped his arm playfully. You have no idea how hard it would be for me to accept. You really do not understand how I feel about it!

I realize I am not what a really pretty and talented girl like you would want for a husband, George pretended to be wounded by her words of rejection.

Oh, shut up! she laughed. You are what every single girl on this island would want for a husband.

Every girl but you, he observed wryly.

The problem is me, not you, she explained. It is my character flaws that hold me back, not yours.

You know it is interesting how I have justified all this in my brain, he mused. "It is what I was thinking about when you brought all this marriage business up. I am firmly against marital relations outside of marriage, yet I find myself doing that very thing from time to time. You were not the first to tempt me off of proper celibacy-- I will admit that."

Oh, those vacuous gold diggers? she laughed again. There was no trace of jealousy in her voice.

You are, however, the very best woman I have ever known. And the very last romance ever, I hope, he added slightly under his breath.

Well this time you can blame me entirely for your sinful passion, Georgiana told him. You would marry me at once. I know that. So all the blame is on me. You can rationalize to your heart’s content and be absolutely right. I bear all the blame and the burden. Unburden your conscience in that regard. I absolve you completely.

Yes, you tempt me beyond human resistance, he told her, pulling her next to him lovingly. Were I a saint, and I am not, I would fall quickly to your charms. He kissed her again. The warm sea breeze continued to flow into the room now, filling the air with a romantic island fragrance and the music on the radio continued with another musical transcription. It was the most romantic situation George could envision-- except being married.

Georgiana put her arms about his neck; kissing him back and once again they made the sweetest love. George told himself it was good he loved so many of her character qualities, because her body held enough charm to drive him mad with passion. She was strong with good muscles and no flab anywhere. Her hair was dark blonde and hung