Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B by James Young (classic book list .txt) 📗

"Why are you laughing?" Nick asked, feeling his cheeks warm.

"Because the look on your face was the epitome of confusion, desire, and stupefaction," Agnes answered. "You didn't know what the right answer wa–"

When in doubt, attack, Nicholas thought as he kissed his wife.

Two hours later, the firm knock on the hotel room door brought Nick and Agnes both of their slumber.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cobb?" a voice said from the other side of the door. "Our apologies, the phone system is down. This is your six o'clock wake up."

Whose bright idea was that?

He slid out from under Agnes as the mumbled something about a few more minutes.

"Thank you," he called out, listening as the man walked off. There were a few other individuals starting to move around in the hallway, including at least one still drunk sailor whose comrades were trying to shush him.

"It is probably fortunate we only have a couple of days off work," Agnes observed, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"I know," Nick said, moving gingerly himself. "I feel like I just had my first day of boxing all over again."

Nick just barely dodged the pillow hurled at his head, and immediately regretted it as his leg muscles tried to cramp. Agnes giggled at the expression on his face, then again at the wholly different expression it changed to when she stood up.

"Nicholas…" she chided him, her tone warning. "We must get presentable if we want to catch the shuttle to the Dole plantation. Please turn on the radio, I'm going to take a shower."

"We could both–"

"No, no we both cannot, Lieutenant Cobb," Agnes replied. "I am apparently a wanton hussy and you are an insatiable brute."

"Don't let anyone hear you say that at the office," Nick replied.

"If 'anyone' at the office heard me say that I'd be fired and you'd be brought up on charges," she replied. "As far as anyone at the office is concerned, we are like most married couples and never speak of such things with one another, much less do them."

There are days where it's obvious you're the only child of older parents. As opposed to the poor child who had the small former closet right next to your parents' bedroom.

"I am not sure I want to know what you are thinking about, but something I said clearly killed the mood," Agnes observed with a slight frown. "Did you suddenly have fear that this will change?"

"No, actually," Nick said, shaking his head. "I just remembered when I was three and asked my mother if we kids did something wrong?"

"Okay?" Agnes said, looking at him in obvious befuddlement.

"My mother used to say, when we were doing something bad, that she was 'going to go pray to Jesus for patience, because if she asked for strength someone was going to be the first man on the moon,'" Nick explained.

Agnes raised an eyebrow.

"Or, at least she did. Then that morning, three-year-old me asked my Dad if we kids had done something wrong the day before.”

Agnes’ confused look deepened.

“Dad asked me, ‘Nick, why would you think you kids did something wrong?’ ‘Well, it’s just I heard Mom talking to God a lot last night, Dad, so I figured she was asking for a lot of patience.’”

Agnes covered her mouth, eyes going wide as Nick continued.

"My father turned as red as a tomato, my mother dropped the dish she was washing, and my brothers all looked confused. That’s when they all started asking questions, and it was the last time Mom mentioned God and patience in a sentence together."

Agnes' laugh started low, then rose to a huge guffaw as she sat down on the bed.

I love the way she looks when she laughs like this. Hell, I love everything about her.

"Anyway, once Dad got us all to calm down, he looked over at Mom with a small smile. ‘Boys, I think your Mom just had a religious experience or four last night is all.’”

"Stop…stop…it's too late for me to get the marriage annulled," Agnes said, starting to hiccup.

“I’ve never seen a man take such a calm sip of orange juice while contemplating his imminent demise in my life,” Nick continued deadpan. Agnes, realizing there was only one path to relief, came over to kiss him, pointedly swatting his hands away from her.

"I love you, Nicholas," she said. "I cannot wait to meet your parents."

With that, she grabbed one hand and put it on her abdomen for a moment.

"And to someday bear your children."

I…I don’t know what to say back to that.

"Although I am glad twins are a maternal thing," Agnes said. "I do not know how your mother did it."

"Mom is just like Patricia…"

"I doubt that despite how often you and your brothers swear to it," Agnes interrupted with a smile. "Your sister is very…unique."

"Stubborn. Stubborn was the word I was going to say."

"In any case, I look forward to meeting her when this is all over," Agnes said.

Part of me wonders if it will ever be over.

Rather than saying anything this time when she read his expression, Agnes simply kissed him tenderly.

"I'll try to hurry," she said, then looked at the time. "Well, I guess you'll catch up on Gibson and the Octopus."

Nick laughed as he looked over at the radio. KGU, the Hawaii radio station, had begun to rebroadcast episodes of "Speed Gibson of the International Police" in the morning back in March. It was a radio serial that had begun shortly before Nick started the Naval Academy, and he'd never had a chance to listen to it all the way through. Much to Agnes' chagrin, Nick had just happened upon the broadcast when his previous boat, the Nautilus, had been in harbor.

"Anything that will keep me distracted from a beautiful woman in the shower," Nicholas said with a smile. He switched on the radio…and was immediately disappointed to hear a familiar male voice.

Why is Senator Lindbergh on the radio?

"…investigate this waste of federal dollars while