It was a hot summer night in June, 1942. They were sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the radio. They were in a quiet spot at South Mountain Reservation in northern New Jersey. The war wasn’t going well, certainly not in the Pacific. Recently, the Japanese Army had forced the surrender of American troops in Bataan. Alison and Gary weren’t listening to the news, though. They were holding hands listening to the Glenn Miller Orchestra’s, Moonlight Cocktail.   

Alison, a petite redhead with green eyes, was resting her head on Gary’s shoulder. Suddenly she began to weep, quietly. Her hands were shaking. Gary raised her head and said, “Don’t worry. I know it doesn’t look so good right now, but the war isn’t going to last long,” They kissed. “I’ll be home before you know it” Set to leave the next morning for army basic training in Fort Dix, New Jersey, his words hardly matched his thoughts. He expected to be killed in action.   

“I know, but I’m worried,” she said. She shifted in her seat so she could face him. “I have something to tell you.”

Gary leaned back, a concerned look on his face. He could hardly breathe. For several weeks now he had been worried she might have something to tell him. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t manage it. “What is it?” he whispered.

“I’m late.”

“Are you sure? I mean has it even been a month yet?”

“It’s been five weeks. She started sobbing. “Oh Gary, I’m so sorry.”

Gary didn’t move a muscle to comfort Alison. He was a thin man with wavy black hair. Usually, he had a confident look about him. At the moment, he felt uncertain, lost even. “Have you told anyone else?” He asked.

“Of course not.” She turned away now, looking straight ahead at the dimly lit mountain range. She was sitting with a man she was in love with, yet, she never felt so alone.

“We only did it one time,” he said, his hands squeezing the steering wheel of his father’s 1937 Dodge sedan.

“I know,” she said. “It happened right here.” She began to cry again. “You told me you loved me,” she whispered.

“I do love you. It’s just…”

She waited, knowing he wouldn’t finish his thought. After what felt like an hour, she said, “It’s just that you don’t want the responsibility of a wife and family.”

He turned to her. “I’m going to be sent to war in Europe or the Pacific. I don’t even know if I’ll ever come home. I have a bad feeling about it, I’ll tell you that.”

“Would you take me home please? I have a sister who lives in Kentucky. I’ll need to make plans to stay with her.”

“You figured that out already?” He started up the Dodge, pressed the clutch and put the gear in reverse.

She didn’t respond. Her body was shaking. They had met in Newark at a neighborhood social club dance. They’d been dating for nearly a year, spending a lot of time together. Aware that he would soon be shipping out, she’d relented one night. It was a spur of the moment decision. She remembered saying a silent prayer, hoping she wouldn’t get pregnant.

Based on the things he’d been saying, she felt sure he would propose before he left for basic training. After church on Easter Sunday, he’d said something about having a talk with her father. She’d been delighted. “Oh! I think Daddy is expecting you to talk to him.”

He laughed and said, “I don’t know what I’m going to say.” She laughed with him, but after he got his draft notice, he never mentioned it again.

They drove back to Newark without saying anything. His mind was racing, his thoughts jumbled, bouncing like a pinball careening from one cushion to another. Two blocks from her home, he pulled the car over. He took a deep breath and said, “I guess we’ll get married. I heard that maybe half-way through basic, I can get a weekend pass. I’ll come home and we’ll get married.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t want you to marry me because you feel like you have to. I’ll go to Kentucky and stay with my sister.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

“That night, you told me you loved me,” she reminded him. “You said you wanted us to be together forever.”

“I do love you. I’m just scared.” He rubbed his perspiring palms on his pants. “I do want to marry you. I just thought we would wait until the war is over.”

Alison looked at him, no longer crying. “The situation has changed. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, you’re leaving in the morning. She put her purse on her lap. “I won’t go to the armory to see you off. I’ll tell my parents we broke up.”

Like a right cross to the jaw, clarity landed at that moment for Gary. The thought of breaking up with Alison frightened him more than fatherhood and more than facing the enemy. He pulled out of the space he’d found and drove to Alison’s house. He parked and got out of the car with her. They climbed the steps to her apartment. She started to say something, but he stopped her. “Don’t say a word.” His mind was clear now.

They were greeted by Mr. Oliver, who always waited up for his daughter. “Is Mrs. Oliver up?” Gary asked.

“She’s in the kitchen,” Mr. Oliver said. They walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Oliver looked at her daughter’s face and knew precisely what she was about to hear.

“Mr. and Mrs. Oliver, Alison is pregnant. We’re getting married as soon as I get my first leave.”

Her father looked into his daughter’s eyes. “Alison?”

She clasped Gary’s hand, tightly. “It’s true.”

Mr. Oliver shook his head and looked at his wife. She moved close to her husband. “I’ll get the champagne glasses,” she said.