New Life in the Shadow of Old Beliefs
Virginia has a terrible day
September 8, 1942
Dear Tony,
I’m pregnant.
Shit. That won’t do. I can’t just start a letter like that. Dear Private, thanks for your semen. Is that why you joined the navy? Har har.
Wait. Don’t they even call them Seamen?
Virginia frowned at the letter before crumpling it up and tossing it into the wastebasket, where it joined several of its fellows.
How hard is it to tell someone they knocked you up? Jeez. It’s not like he wasn’t there.
For a moment, her blue-green gaze wandered out the window, though her eyes weren’t looking at the dismal grey bank of clouds blocking the sun. A dreamy smile mushroomed on her face as diverting thoughts of her steamy tryst with Tony drove out the immediate emergency. She thought of his mouth, travelling down her neck, finding her nipple. Licking it. Rolling it tenderly between his teeth until she started to squirm and moan. She thought of his husky baritone murmuring barely audible phrases in her ear as the tension swelled —
Virginia! A far more rational part of her brain stepped in to stop the avalanche of memories. Besides, she could always think of it later. Though she supposed she’d…
