Chapter Text
For the past three years, Elaine Byrne avoided being alone in dark enclosed spaces or visualizing vivid sceneries with her eyes closed. Whenever she feels bad about life, she smokes in the nearest smoking area or writes it down in her journal.
However, this time it was different.
This time she forgot that she’s not supposed to go inside the restaurant’s cold room on her own. It was Friday and the chef was chewing her ear off over a wrong order. Her energy was already depleted and all she wants to do is go home. Almost instinctively, she went straight to the cold room to shed some tears.
As she walked back to the dining area, faint jazz music could be heard. It grew louder as she continued on, and Elaine does not remember a band being hired that night. A male waiter almost bumped into her, half-shouting, “Hey! You can’t be here!” She took note of his uniform. It was a shirt with a bow tie, black pants and a white apron covering half his pants.
The sight of her destination surprised her.
It was the same dining area, with stage and piano in it, except that the people now are wearing clothing from a bygone time. Men were in suits, women in knee length dresses with slightly defined shoulders. The upholstery and furniture are no longer the same color. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of alcohol and sweat made her gag a little.
She has done it again. The very activity she avoided for the past three years. With this realization, she went to the bathroom and luckily, it’s still in the same place where she remembered it.
Picking the last sink in a row, she opened the faucet, and splashed some water on her face. When she finally faced the mirror, her mouth fell open. Besides from the water droplets falling from her face, her makeup is not her usual. She now has a redder lip and defined eyebrows. Her brown hair is now curled and pinned in ways she would never do.
She took some paper towels on the side and dabbed her face in it. This time, Elaine took a longer moment to observe the image in the mirror. Aside from the makeup, she finally noticed her change of clothing. No longer in her trusty vested white polo and black slacks, but now she’s donning a dark red dress with slightly puffed sleeves and triangular cut outs on the collar. It was slightly figure hugging, which highlighted her curves that were often lost in her waitress uniform. Elaine held up her hand and touched the mirror’s surface. It’s me. This makes me feel like Peggy Carter minus the combat skills.
She was about to go when she heard heels clicking towards her direction. For some reason, she locked herself in one of the stalls and someone started sniffing and a vague ‘There, There’ could be heard.
“Oh Mabel,” a high pitched voice said. “At least he let you down gently and did not lead you on. You know Beth in Accounting? Her man just left her without a word!”
“That’s because he’s just feeling sorry for me!” Mabel cried. “I already thought about the wedding we could’ve had, Jo.”
Jo audibly sighed. “Mabel, you know you were only seeing him for three weeks, right?”
“He’s dreamy and nice! A lawyer! And my cat even likes him!”
Mabel’s own statement made her cry even more.
“I know, but at least he let you down gently. He has a point. You don’t have to wait around for him anymore,” Jo comforted.
The two women she was eavesdropping kept quiet for a little after that. Then she heard the faucet running and paper towels being ripped off. A few clinking more and she heard someone exhale loudly.
“Are you ready to say goodbye?” Jo asked.
A sniff. “Okay, let’s go, Jo.”
“That’s more like it,” Jo replied. Their heels started clicking away from the bathroom. Elaine waited for a minute or two just to make sure they weren’t coming back and she emerged from her stall.
She gazed at the mirror one last time and exited. Inhaling the strong scents of tobacco and alcohol, she scouted for a place to sit in. It was hard to see who’s sitting alone or not at first glance, so she slowly dragged her feet, hoping for the one.
Instinctively, she touched her side and thanked the heavens for its pockets. She reached in and instead of a phone, she felt a small notepad, a pencil and coins. Helpful .
Finally, she saw her target.
The one was a lone, mustachioed man with a half-empty glass of beverage in front of him. He seemed to be in deep thought while his fingers were tapping the table in tune with what was being played on stage. He looks nice. Taking a deep breath, Elaine strode towards his table and pulled a chair beside him. He was startled with the sound of chair legs against the floor.
“What–”
“Hi there,” Elaine greeted, flashing her best smile. “Great night?”
“It was until I heard the news,” the man replied. She was about to ask what was the news but he beat her to it.
“The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.”
“Oh, that’s what it is,” Elaine realized. “A woman in the bathroom was crying because her boyfriend was enlisting.”
The information made the man perk up and turned to her. “Was she blonde? In a purple dress?”
“I don’t know. I was hiding in one of the stalls.”
This amused the man beside her. “What? Why were you hiding?”
“I was having a moment, then I heard them come in. They were coming in fast, click click click, so I hid. Then someone started crying and I didn't want to intrude, so I stayed there.” Elaine explained.
“‘They’?” he asked.
“Yeah. Two women. Jo and Mabel,” she shared.
“Ah, yes. They were with me earlier. Mabel wanted to go home, so I guess it’s official now.”
Elaine scrunched up her nose. “Ah, that sucks, man. Too bad her cat loves you.”
“Hmmm. Yeah, Mr. Giggles.”
“Although,” she started. “You do know you could be in a relationship while overseas, right?”
He shook his head. “I can’t afford to have any distractions. And I don’t want life to pass her by because she was waiting for me. What if I never return?”
“What if you do?” she countered. “Have a little faith.”
“How do you know that?”
She kept quiet, feeling like his question was rhetorical. He has a point. When he’s on the battlefield, the chances of him coming back are slim to none.
As the band played another tune, the upcoming war entered her mind. This man is enlisting in the army tomorrow to fight Nazis. Jesus Christ, what was the closest thing she could experience to that? The thing that came to her mind was nothing compared to going to war on the other side of the world.
“Oh well. You’ll meet other women,” she assured him. Then she proceeded to scan his appearance. “You’re tall, handsome, and that pornstache would definitely rake in the girls.”
“Porn-what?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
Elaine closed her eyes at her words. Her hand went to her head, scrunching her eyes to think of what to say. Of course, the day she dreaded finally came. The day where her weird attraction to 70s mustaches will be her downfall.
“Never mind. It’s your mustache,” she corrected, motioning his face. “And those baby blue eyes? Ridiculous.”
Her companion was about to answer when a blond man came to their table.
“Good evening, Miss.”
It took her a moment to realize that a man standing on their table was referring to her. She smiled at him. The man she was with eyed the stranger with suspicion. “Hello there.”
“The tune’s pretty swell, can I dance with you? Miss…?”
Elaine scanned the man’s appearance. He was tall and thin with wide shoulders and almost white hair. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties. Who are you supposed to be, Draco Malfoy?
“I’m Elaine,” she introduced. You are?”
“Albert.”
For a moment, her mission of attempting to know which year she was in felt futile. What’s a little dancing when you’re time traveling? Without taking a second look to her companion, she nodded and took the man’s hand and made their way to the dance floor. With their hands on their proper positions, they started swaying to the music.
They were having a nice conversation until the guy started to lean in for a kiss. She managed to avoid this and his lips landed on her cheek. The reek of alcohol from his mouth made her wince. She gave him a fake smile, hoping that all of this will be over soon. They swayed once again, but this time she felt his hand moving from the small of her back to her butt and grabbed it.
Her eyes widened and pushed him away. This made a mini domino effect on the other couples on the dance floor, earning them weird looks and glares.
“Back off,” Elaine warned.
This did not deter him and took it as a challenge instead.
“Aww, baby, you’re feisty. I like that,” Albert taunted, cornering her like a prey.
Elaine took short breaths to calm herself, her right hand slowly turning into a fist.
Suddenly, a loud thud of falling tables was heard. The music stopped.
“Fight! Fight!”
He rushed where the scream was. He was observing her in a distance to somewhat guard her, as if she was someone he needed to look after. The man she was dancing with did not seem trustworthy enough for him, especially when he saw his companions laugh at them for some reason.
The blond man was bleeding out of his nose while she was grunting in pain.
“Fuck you!” Elaine yelled.
He went to her and took her hand. “What happened?”
“That asshole,” Elaine growled, pointing to the man on the floor, “was feeling me up!”
A small crowd gathered where they were. One older man lunged at Elaine’s curly haired companion and started throwing punches. He missed and continued pursuing. Elaine jumped into the brawl, attempting to break them apart. Few patrons, probably thrilled with this sudden turn, dove in as well, unknown whether to pull her out of the commotion or punch the other guy.
It continued on for a few minutes until someone blew a whistle.
The crowd departed and it revealed a portly, semi-bald man with a whistle hanging on his neck.
“WHAT ON EARTH IS HAPPENING HERE?” he roared. Those in the brawl slowly detached themselves from each other. Everyone was in varying degrees of bleeding and pain, most especially that man who felt up Elaine.
The portly manager glared at all of them then his eyes filled with recognition. “Robert? Is that you, boy?”
Elaine looked at who he was referring to.
It was the lonely, mustachioed man who broke up with Mabel. His name is Robert.
He does look like a Robert, Elaine thought. The carefully gelled curly hair, neat mustache, smell of manly perfume with hints of tobacco and alcohol…It’s like she was transported to a 1940s movie with Cary Grant as the lead star and she’s the fast-talking femme fatale.
“Minty!" Robert smiled and shook hands with the man as if there were no two slightly injured persons in front of them. The manager pulled him from the floor and when they stood up, he towered over Minty.
“Minty, I’m so sorry about the mess. This guy made moves on my friend and she just defended herself. I had to jump in,” he explained.
“Picking fights already? Save some for those Nazis!” Minty exclaimed. He snapped his fingers and two broad men appeared. He ordered the troublemakers to be taken outside the club.
Robert only smiled sheepishly. Minty seemed charmed by this and asked both of them to follow him. Elaine looked at him suspiciously. “Where are we going?”
“I know him, don’t worry,” he assured her.
The trio entered a small office. The walls were painted red and there was a sturdy table that is the main piece of the room. It has a matching leather chair behind it and several crates of alcohol stacked up to the ceiling. Papers are haphazardly piled up and a clothes rack near the window. It felt like a claustrophobic’s nightmare.
“Sit down, sit down, kids,” Minty motioned to the two leather chairs in front of the table. The two sat and Elaine’s eyes laid at the calendar hanging behind Minty.
DECEMBER 1941
Ah, fuck. Wrong guess! All of the numbers on the first row were crossed except for number seven. They watched Minty pour three glasses of whiskey (or scotch?) and gave them one each.
“What’s your name, doll?”
“I’m Elaine. Elaine Byrne.”
“So, how did the two of you meet?” Minty asked, eyeing the two of them.
“Um–” Elaine started. Robert covered her hand and started talking.
“We only met tonight. Mabel stormed out when she found out I was enlisting. Told her I don’t want her waiting for me while I fight.”
Minty nodded in understanding. “I wouldn’t take it away from Rosie to meet a girl after breaking up with one!”
Elaine glanced at the two men curiously.
“Why is that, Minty?” she questioned. “Is Rosie here a player?”
This made Rosie blush a little. Minty shook his head.
“No, doll, he’s a lawyer! He sweet talks for a living!”
Elaine turned to her companion. “A lawyer, huh? Interesting.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Rosie confirmed. “Although, I don’t sweet talk anyone, Minty.”
“Tell that to anyone who would listen, Rosie.”
“Why is he called Rosie?” Elaine wondered, looking at Minty. “Is it the rosy cheeks?”
“Ah, it’s because of his surname. Rosenthal. Only friends and family are allowed. That’s why I only called him that in here,” Minty informed her.
Elaine listened to the two men catch up with their lives. Rosie confirmed his enlistment tomorrow, and Minty seemed to be worried about his young friend. Rosie is a strapping young man of twenty-four and Minty said that America joining the war will be a bloodbath.
“I will be fighting for my people and country, Minty,” Rosie solemnly reasoned. “These people we will be protecting, they can’t fight for themselves, can they?”
“You seem like you made up your mind quite fast,” Minty observed. Rosie only nodded.
The three of them sat in silence. Elaine was feeling a bit uncomfortable with it, so she downed the glass of amber liquid given to her. She coughed a little, for she rarely drinks this type of liquor. Call her childish, but she would rather sit happily with her colorful drinks with an umbrella in it than pretend to be like Don Draper. “What is it, whiskey?”
“Scotch,” the older man confirmed. “Too strong for you?”
Elaine agreed. “Yeah."
When she finished the drink, Rosie stood up. “We better be going now, Mint.”
“Say hi to your mother for me,” Minty told Rosie. He nodded.
“Thank you for the scotch,” Elaine said, waving Minty goodbye. The two made their way back to the dining hall. They did not see Minty smiling at the sight of them.
The band was playing something more slow, and the atmosphere felt like no brawl happened. However, it felt more somber. Maybe it’s the music that the band was playing. The dance floor seemed shinier, the lights dimmer, and couples are dancing closer than ever. It was probably the news of the Pearl Harbor attack that made them rethink the time they have.
For them, it’s only the beginning.
For Elaine, it’s only looking at the past at a closer look. Beyond the bigger picture that history books offer. She is no longer reading these big events in a book, but the individuals that will soon be affected by this attack.
For a night, she’s one of them.
Rosie was observing her as she watched the dance floor. Her hair is still quite a mess after the brawl and yet, the out-of-place hair strands seemed to be framing her face instead. She seemed oblivious to any of the music being played, but then maybe she’s not a fan of jazz and prefers something else.
This strange, pretty woman felt like trouble. Minutes within meeting her, and he was already fighting in a brawl for her. He never did that to any girl he went out with. He felt guilty about what happened between him and Mabel and maybe he’ll think about it tomorrow still.
But he cannot deny wanting to get to know Elaine more after tonight.
“Let’s dance, Rosie,” Elaine invited, extending her hand to him. Rosie gazed at her hand, thought about it, and took it. She pulled him into the dance floor, slightly squeezing in among the sea of couples. He placed his hands on its proper positions and she did the same. Slowly, they swayed along, closer than ever.
“Is it okay if I call you Rosie? Minty said only friends and family are allowed to call you that,” she wondered aloud.
“You’re already calling me Rosie anyway, so go ahead.”
“What were you thinking about earlier?”
“When?”
“When I asked you to dance, you’re deep in thought. Any thoughts you want to share?”
He sighed. “You won’t let this go, won’t you?”
“Nope,” she smiled. “I want to hear it.”
“I was thinking about what you said. That maybe I’ll come back from the war alive? Have a little faith?”
Elaine glanced at her side, suddenly feeling shy. She was only trying to encourage him to take a chance on romance during the war. She did not realize he would pick on it and discuss it further.
“Well, going to war alone seemed like a sad thing to do. Sure, it might be invigorating for you as a man, getting in combat and all, but what happens when you’re all alone in some trench?” Elaine explained.
“I can write letters home,” he reasoned.
“But can you share what you’ll see in the field with them?”
“I can’t share it with my imaginary girlfriend either, Elaine.”
With no answer to give him anymore, she rolled her eyes. Rosie caught it and found it endearing.
“Speechless? No rebuttal?” Rosie challenged.
“Shut up, Robert.”
“So it’s Robert now when I annoy you?” he teased.
“Yes, Robert,” she pointed out, trying to hide a grin.
Rosie pulled her a little closer and she felt his hands get a little sweaty. She tried not to chuckle, but her body reacted before it was too late. The band played another new song, and when she glanced at him, she watched him mouth the words.
“Do you know this song?” she asked.
“We’ll Meet Again,” he replied, looking down at her.
“I doubt that, Rosie.”
Rosie chuckled at her. “Silly. I mean, it’s the title. We’ll Meet Again.”
She rested her head at his chest, once again embarrassed by her blunder. “Oh god. I’ve been just an embarrassing person all night, am I?”
“This is the most interesting night I’ve had for a while. Don’t worry about it,” he assured her.
She only nodded. She took in his scent, and wondered if he noticed it. I hope he didn’t. But maybe he did. My inhale was pretty obvious. As the song went on, Elaine thought of why she is here at this very moment. She could’ve been back in Minton’s by now by going back where she came from—in the cold room.
Instead, she stayed and now slow dancing with a man she just met.
Elaine stopped time traveling on purpose three years ago. It was once an exciting thing to discover at eighteen, but now at twenty-six, it felt like an unhealthy coping mechanism. She made mistakes on those travels and made her run away from her life. She stayed far too long in some places and saw the consequences blow right up to her face.
However, tonight, she did not time travel on purpose.
And there must be a reason why it happened.
The song finished and everyone clapped. Rosie and Elaine removed their hands from each other and joined the crowd. Backing away from the dance floor, they sat in an empty booth.
As she stared at Rosie, she knew she had to go home. Rosie felt her eyes at him and they spent a good few seconds memorizing each other’s details, like taking a photograph. Elaine took in his blue eyes and the styled curly mop of hair, while Rosie gazed at her hazel green eyes and a small scar on her forehead. She wondered how it would appear if not styled with sticky gel. Rosie blushed a little at the intensity of her gaze, smiling shyly at her. Elaine chuckled at how ridiculous and romantic it all must have looked like.
A gentleman with a big camera managed to capture this romantic scene. The blinding flash surprised the two, making them jump in their seats. The bulb was still smoking.
“I’ll send it to Minty once it’s developed!” the man with a camera said. “You’re one good looking couple!”
“That’s one big camera,” Elaine observed. “That flash almost blinded me!”
He laughed at her observation. “Will they ever make a flash bulb less blinding?”
“I don’t think so,” she answered, smiling.
They settled for a moment and Rosie waved at a waiter. The waiter was quick at his feet and reached them. However, Elaine grabbed his arm to stop him. “I need to go home now.”
“Oh, is that so?” he asked, a slight disappointment in his tone. The waiter seemed to sense this and looked at Elaine. She lifted her head to dismiss him, which the waiter did.
“Yeah, it’s quite late and I’m on opening shift,” she reasoned. It was true though.
“If that’s the case, I’ll take you home,” he declared. “Where do you live?”
He can’t take you home! You don’t live in 1941, girl!
“Just a few blocks away, but I’ll be fine. I’ll walk.”
He looked at her with disbelief. “Elaine, I’ll walk you home. Or at least call you a cab. You can’t walk by yourself at this hour after what happened.”
“I can. I can throw in a punch, you know.”
“Elaine, no.”
The way Rosie said her name made her melt a little. That deep dulcet tone with a hint of concern (or was it disappointment with hardheadedness) made her rethink about her decision to leave. One more drink can’t hurt, right?
“Fine. But first, I need to go to the ladies’ room,” she said.
“All right. I’ll wait here.”
Elaine made her way to the ladies’ room, her heart beating so fast it’s the only thing she could hear. This is the moment she leaves him. It has to be. Damn that dulcet voice for making her doubt. When she reached the ladies’ room, she took the notepad and pencil inside her pocket and quickly scribbled. After that, she folded it neatly and got out. She waved to the same passing waiter who almost took their order earlier.
“Yes, ma’am?” the waiter said.
“Can you pass this to the gentleman with the mustache?” she requested, pointing him to Rosie who was chatting with an elderly man.
“You mean Rosie? No problem, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. When the waiter was out of sight, she made her way to the turn. She wondered if she would take one last look at Rosie. But she decided against it.
The storage room was there, waiting for her. Sighing, she took one last look at her surroundings, checking if she was being watched. Then she slid the door and entered.
She murmured and closed her eyes.
Moments later, there’s knocking at the door. “Elaine! Get out! I need some supplies!”
Maybe we’ll meet again, Rosie.
“Coming, Bunny!”
When Elaine left to go home, the new busboys were left after they cleaned up the place. They sat to rest before actually going home. One of them, Jerry, was looking at the wall filled with pictures and memorabilia from old patrons and past owners from different decades. Their jazz club had been open since the late 1930s and it could feel like a museum sometimes.
While he was scanning the frames, one picture stood out to him. It was a photo of a couple in a booth, staring at each other adoringly. The picture seemed like straight from a movie scene, which made Jerry think if it was a screenshot from an unknown movie of the time.
He leaned in closer and noticed the woman in the photo. She looked like one of their waitresses. Elaine! But the woman in the photo was with better hair and of course, wearing vintage clothing. She was gazing at the mustachioed man as if studying him, and the man was doing the same to her. They looked cozy and adorable.
“Hey Bunny, look at this,” Jerry called. The woman he was calling came to him almost immediately.
“What is it, Jer?” she asked.
“She looks a lot like Elaine, no?”
Bunny leaned in as well to check the photo. “Oh yeah, she does. Maybe her grandma or something?”
“Maybe,” Jerry replied.
“We’ll tell Elaine tomorrow,” Bunny said.
What the two failed to notice was the small inscription at the lower right edge of the photo. It said:
Rosie & Elaine, 1941