Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B, James Young [best management books of all time TXT] 📗

You bitch.

Her initial rush of anger turned to sadness, as she realized just how deeply Jo had to be hurt to hurl that insult.

"I think, with that comment, we are even," Patricia observed coolly, then paused. "No, actually, I still owe you an apology: I am sorry, Jo. I am sorry that I took out my frustration at my brothers on you."

Jo’s mouth opened slightly before the other woman caught it.

At least you have the grace to not look completely dumbstruck.

"I realized that despite knowing Nick had gotten engaged, I never really processed it," Patricia said. "Nor did I treat Agnes appropriately for someone who was going to be my future sister-in-law."

Patricia could see Jo regarding her suspiciously.

I suppose I've played the 'oh everything is fine…let me bite your head off' trick one time too often.

Once more, she felt ashamed at her behavior.

"I know that might seem hard to believe," Patricia continued. "I can only hope that you'll accept my apology."

After a long pause, Patricia swallowed. Her eyes started to burn as she proceeded.

Goddammit. This is why the damn twins treat me like I’m twelve still.

"But if you want me to move out, Jenny can probably use a roommate," Patricia said. "I've been gone so much the last few days because I've been helping her roommate Rebekkah get ready for a wedding. Seems she is in the family way from a sailor off the Salt Lake City."

Jo winced.

"That's a fella who is going through a lot," Jo observed. "First he loses a bunch of his shipmates and all his stuff back in March, now he's about to be a father and a husband?"

"He was recently reassigned, disappeared for a few weeks, came back," Patricia said. "I think they celebrated his survival a little too enthusiastically."

Patricia saw a shadow cross over Jo's face for a brief second.

“You seem kind of judgmental there,” Patricia said.

“Just never sure what it means when a woman gets herself pregnant,” Jo replied. “There’s ways to stop that.”

Patricia raised an eyebrow, but decided to let that one drop.

"Anyway, I'm sure I can just move into Rebekkah’s bedroom," Patricia finished. This time, the tears did come, and she grabbed at the napkin on the table to dab at her eyes…and just barely remembered the gooey remnants on her hand.

Jo covered her mouth to hide her laugh, then shook her head as she wiped at her own eyes.

"No one needs to leave," Jo said, quickly standing up to walk over to the break room's basin. She rummaged for a cloth, wet it, then brought it back for Patricia.

"Thank you," Patricia said, taking the cloth. After she wiped her hand, Jo reached out and took it in both of hers.

"I'm sorry too," Jo said. "I should have insisted they tell you, especially with me being the maid of honor."

Patricia saw her roommate swallow.

"It's all right," Patricia said, putting her hand on top of Jo's. She smiled. "I'm glad you got some experience in the job before Charles and I's wedding,"

Jo's eyes widened at that.

"He didn't formally ask, but there was at least a discussion about it before he left," Patricia said. "I just wish we'd get some damn letters from Eric and him. Or at least some confirmation that they're still alive."

As soon as she'd said the words, Patricia felt her lunch do a flip flop in her stomach.

Losing Eric is hard enough to think about. That I could conceivably have lost both Eric and Charles in the same day? It's terrifying.

With that thought, she put the peanut butter and jelly sandwich back in its tin. Jo glanced at the uneaten sandwich, then up at Patricia.

"It's terrible not knowing, isn't it?" Jo said quietly.

"Yes," Patricia replied. "The most terrifying feeling of all."

“I wish they hadn’t made us leave while they had their pow wow,” Jo said. “Kind of hard for us to maybe guess what some code might mean if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“Probably thought our delicate sensibilities couldn’t handled it,” Patricia said, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, because us sitting in here thinking the worst is so much better,” Jo said. “Eric, Charles, my dad…they could all be dead.”

The door opened and Gunnery Sergeant Longstreet stepped inside. Nodding at the two women, he walked over to the coffee machine and started to make a pot.

“It was well past time for me, a lowly Gunny, to leave,” Longstreet observed when he realized both women were staring at him. Pausing, he considered both Jo and Patricia.

“I’m sorry, I’m not interrupting something, am I?” he asked. “I assure you, with five sisters there’s nothing you’re going to say that will shock me, so please carry on.”

Jo and Patricia looked at each other, then back at Longstreet, who was smiling at them.

“Yes, I am the mirror image of Miss Cobb,” he continued. “Oldest child. Dad actually made me explain the birds and the bees to my three youngest sisters. Said I needed the practice if I was going to keep breaking young ladies’ hearts.”

Patricia looked at Longstreet in shock as Jo guffawed. Longstreet smiled at her knowingly.

“I imagine your father probably had the same problems I did with that speech. Except he didn’t have his mother crossly correcting him from the next room. With anatomically correct phrases.”

Longstreet stopped as there were rising voices from the next room. Looking out the break room’s small window, he nodded and walked over to both Patricia and Jo.

“By the way, I’ve seen the initial casualty reports,” he said quietly. Houston is on her way back here by way of Samoa, and there were no Cobbs listed.”

Patricia felt a momentary sense of relief that turned to dread. Longstreet looked at her quizzically.

I can’t…I can’t ask, Patricia thought.

“Read,” Jo said. “Was there a Lieutenant Read?”

“Off the Massachusetts?” Longstreet asked, his face starting to grow horrified.

“No, he would have been off the Yorktown,” Patricia said, her