The Kids Are Alright

September 4, 1941

Grace walked into the hospital with drowsy eyes. The secretary groggily handed her the clipboard, and Grace walked slowly down the halls. She had been scheduled for a late night shift, and hadn't slept for nearly twenty hours.

She walked through the dimly lit rooms, checking on the few patients. She checked IVs and changed bedpans. For once, she was grateful that the hospital was quiet. She didn't want to deal with excitement when she could hardly focus her eyes on her clipboard. She focused on the sound of her heels hitting the linoleum, and tried to keep her sight straight.

"Grace?" A kind voice called her from behind.

Grace turned groggily to see Virginia. Her eyes were narrowed, "Are you feeling alright?"

Grace nodded, "I'm fine."

"How many shifts did you work today?" Virginia walked forward and took the clipboard from Grace's hand.

"This is my third." Grace smiled, hoping to seem more energized than she truly felt.

Virginia's eyes widened, "That's twenty four hours of work. Go home and get some sleep."

Grace shook her head, "I'm the only first class nurse scheduled for tonight. I can't leave."

Virginia eyed Grace, and with a sigh handed the clipboard back. "Just don't push yourself too much; sit down every once and a while."

Virginia turned and walked away, her head held high.

Grace sighed, and sat on the hard chair in the waiting room. Her eyelids were heavy, and though she fought as hard as she could, sleep won her over.

She was home again. Not her home, but the small house in which she had once referred to as home. But what was home? When she lived there, she didn't know. It was a place where she slept, ate, and lived. It's where her family was. It was not until she left that house that she realized that it wasn't her home. She had never felt a bond to the house, nor the land. Her brothers were her home. What more could she ask for? Even without loving parents, she had more of a family than many. They were her protectors, regardless of how many times she had convinced herself that she didn't need protecting.

She saw her mother, but it didn't look like the mother Grace had grown up knowing. This was the mother that Grace had seen once in a photograph. Her fair skin was tight around her thin frame. Her blue eyes stared daringly into Grace, as unwavering and mysterious as the deepest part of the ocean, and her thick lips were pressed together into a tight line. Her blonde hair was curled, and she beamed with elegance. This was the woman Grace was expected to be. This was everything that Grace was not.

She saw her bedroom; the tiny space beneath the stairs. She remembered asking her parents if she could have it as opposed to the room beside her brothers. She remembered begging to let Lawrence, Kenneth, and Harvey have her room while she took a space that was more suitable for one person. She remembered walking past her brothers' room, and seeing seven bodies uncomfortably strewn throughout the room. Those were the nights that she swore she would always make sure her brothers were cared for first. She would not worry about herself.

She saw her father's boat. The wood warping, and the smell of fish harsh on the deck. She remembered smiling, staring out into the water. She remembered feeling alive.

"Grace!"

Grace's eyes shot open. Virginia stood above her, her eyes wide.