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And a bellhop offered to carry his bag upstairs.

“No, we'll be fine.” Joe smiled at him, as the desk clerk handed him the key.

Joe and Kate took the elevator upstairs without saying a word, and she was relieved to see when he opened the door that it was a pretty room. She had expected something depressing and small, not that it mattered to them, but there was something a little tawdry about checking into a hotel with a man. She had never done that before, and it seemed very bold to her. But she was not going to miss the opportunity of spending the night with him, particularly if it was the only night he had on leave.

Like everyone else in their circumstances, they were living each day as though it were going to be their last, as well it might be.

There was a moment of awkwardness again between them once they got to the room, but as Joe sprawled out on the couch with a nervous look and patted the seat next to him, she smiled as she sat down.

“I can't believe you're here,” she said with a look in her eyes that told him how much he had been missed.

“Neither can I,” he said. Two days before he had been providing fighter escort cover for bombers over Berlin, and they had lost four planes. And now suddenly, he was sitting in a hotel room in Boston with her, and she was prettier than ever. She looked so young and so fresh and so far from the life he had been leading for nearly two years. They had given him two hours' notice of the trip, and he was lucky they'd given him leave, no matter how brief.

On the way over, he had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to see her at all. The night at the Statler was an unexpected gift. And to Joe, at least, it seemed somewhat surreal. They were like homing pigeons that always came back to each other, no matter where they had been. They always found each other, whether in Cape Cod, or Washington, or here, and they would pick up the familiar threads again. Remarkably, no matter how long they'd been away from each other, the same fire and magic was always there.

He kissed her then, without saying another word. It was as though he needed her to comfort him, to soothe the wounds in his soul. He just needed to drink from the peaceful fountain she offered him. It was as though she understood exactly what he needed from her. And in turn, when she was with him, no matter how limited the words, she always knew how much she was loved. It was a perfect exchange."

"A few minutes later, he walked over to the bed with her.