Another day had passed, but really Tiana hadn’t noticed. Each passing day melted into the next, creating a never ending, continuous stream of painful, lonely, miserable moments. She stood in her bedroom, gazing up at the night sky, two stars in particular. 

It was hard enough being alone in the house when Naveen had first left, but now with the knowledge that he would never return it was painful to spend time in it. Everything held memories, but the pleasure of remembering had been taken from her, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. 

When Naveen left, Tiana had tried to tell herself that it was just temporary. That the house would soon be filled with music and laughter and just the general sounds of movement she had gotten used to in her married life. But now the silence wasn’t temporary. It was permanent. Never again could she hear his voice, his laughter… his heartbeat. Her friends tried to comfort her, but Tiana wouldn’t listen. They only wanted her to prolong the inevitable fact that she faced. They tried to talk to her about it, but she found out the only person she wanted to talk to about Naveen’s passing, was Naveen. 

It was unbearable. The whole thing. Every second worse than the last.  

Not long after she had received her telegram, Tiana crawled into their bed, to his side, and wrapped herself in the comforter like a cocoon, surrounding herself with his smell. Or what was left of it. After weeks of sleeping on his side of the bed, his scent was had faded to another empty memory.

She sighed and rested her hot forehead against the cool glass of the window, looking up at Ray and Evangeline. “What do I do now?” She whispered, her breath fogging up the glass. “Please tell me.” 

They remained silent, as always. Tiana frowned, anger building up inside her. She thought of Jane and John, Helga and Milo, all her married friends, even Melody and Jim…. she was jealous and angry at them for their happiness. Glaring at Ray and Evangeline, her anger began to spill out. She hated them most of all. She used to believe the two stars were a symbol of everlasting love, that love could conquer anything and everything. But now they mocked her and everything she used to have. Breathing heavily and clenching her fists slightly, she spat out “What good are you. What good are YOU!?” She repeated, louder. Remembering her promise to Naveen, she started to scream at the stars, her anger overpowering everything else. “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH OUT FOR HIM! YOU CAN’T EVEN DO THAT SIMPLE THING.” She slammed the window shudder closed, blocking out their light. In the darkness she stormed around her bedroom. 

Suddenly Tiana grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and started slamming it against the wall, making the pictures hanging rattle and shake. 

But pillows weren’t cutting it. She needed something that broke. Running to the kitchen, Tiana opened each cabinet. The plates inside came down one after the other, and Tiana stomped on them and screamed. Broken plates littered the ground. Tiana kept attacking them, jumping on them with both feet, screaming, breathless, sweaty, until finally she collapsed on top of the jagged remnants.

Feel better? The voice in her head asked. 

No 

She wept in spurts. Each break was a welcome relief for her body, but torture for her mind. It gave her time to think as her body recuperated from the despair it felt. 

—-

Did it hurt? She found herself thinking. Death in war could be anything. She hoped it was quick, for his sake. The thought of her husband being tortured, or withering in pain… wounded, and crying out for help when none could come to his aid…it was almost too much to bear. 

—-

She felt nauseous; her head hurt, but worst of all was the dull pain, deep inside. The ache you feel when you lose someone you love. Tiana knew the rest of her ailments would go away in time, but this? I would always be with her. She had felt it too many times before. It just grew stronger. Like a horrible beast, it ate up all her happiness, her emotions. She was nothing. An empty shell.

—-

“What do you think about….. kids?”

Naveen had asked her not long before he left. It had seemed scary at the time. It didn’t seem like the best time to talk about something like that. It had ended with nothing. But now, Tiana wished for something different.

How different would she feel if she knew she was going to have his baby? That there was still a part of him, growing, that she could take care of. Something they had created together because they loved each other. A memory that was alive.

She imagined having a little boy, one that looked like Naveen. It would hurt to look at him, but wasn’t that better than having nothing at all?

Tiana felt empty.

They had focused all their time fixing up the sugar mill. Her dream, which in turn became his. But a building wasn’t alive. It was a big, cold, stone pile of bricks. A building couldn’t love you back. 

—-

Twenty two years old and already a widow. And Naveen not much older than her. He was too young to go fight, all of them were. Too young to die. It wasn’t fair.

Tiana would have to let his parents know, wouldn’t she? She imagined seeing her in-laws receiving the news. Her mother in law breaking down, while her father in law tried to remain strong. Their oldest son was gone. Taken from them. Her brother in-law… he was so young. Would he even understand? All of Maldonia will mourn. They will blame me for it of course, she thought. After all, if Naveen hadn’t wanted to stay in New Orleans with me in the first place, he never would have been drafted.

It’s all my fault. How could I have been so selfish…. To keep him here,  so we could fix up that stupid old sugar mill. They should have gone to live in Maldonia, become real royalty and do whatever the heck princes and princesses do every day. Naveen would have been safe from the war then.

Her mind drifted towards a conversation they had shortly before he left, and what she had reiterated countless times in her letters. She had promised him their love would keep him safe. And she did love him. She loved him so much. But there was that one hour… that one damn hour those magic anons took over and she had loved John. And because of her foolish actions, now Naveen was dead.

It’s all my fault.

—-

Tiana lay face up on the living room couch. The sink in the kitchen was leaking, causing a slow dripping sound heard throughout the house. It had been going on for days now, but she hadn’t fixed it. What was the point. The sink could leak if it wanted too.

Tiana started to count the drips

1…2…3

The clock ticked faintly from across the room. It’s ticks grew slower as time went on. She had forgotten to wind it. Again.

45….46…47….

This room used to be so happy before the war. Naveen used to move the furniture back and they would dance together, him showing her new steps to the latest dances. She usually struggled with it, but he was patient with her. Later he would laugh and play his ukulele so joyfully, singing his favorite songs. That had all happened, and like Naveen, all of it was now missing - believed dead.

Now his ukulele would remain silent, perhaps forever. Now Naveen would no longer be seen, so dashing and handsome in his suit, waving to Tiana from the garden. Nor would there ever be enough happiness to fill a thimble, let alone the room in which she now lay.

She sighed and tried to be constructive in her musings. Her mind started to wander, trying to come up with a new menu for the Palace, but she was stuck. There were no ideas in her head. For the first time ever, Tiana could not think of a single thing to cook. Did it even matter? All the food she had been making was lackluster at best, especially her gumbo. What had once been almost therapeutic to cook, caused her pain and devastation. It reminded her too much of those she had lost: her father, who had taught her the recipe, of Ray and their adventures in the bayou, of Naveen, learning how to mince mushrooms.

289…290…291

The staff at Tiana’s Palace wanted her to take a break. Get out of town, take a vacation, anything but remain. Finally after much discussion, she agreed. Her emptiness seemed to drive the customers away faster than her poor food. It was too painful to go there anyway. It only reminded her of her husband and the countless hours they had spent there together. But what could she do now that she wasn’t working? Tiana couldn’t leave, but she couldn’t stay either. Both seemed impossible escapes from her pain. She sighed and turned to face the back of the couch.

398…399….400.

The clock gave a groan as the gears shifted, chiming the hour. The ticks faded, finally coming to a stop. Dead.

The sink continued to leak.

The day was breaking as Tiana stumbled home. Working the night shifts at the war plant left her with little time to sleep, which was a blessing and a curse. Whenever she did manage the few hours of rest, her mind opened up to all the horrible possibilities that could happen to Naveen. The thoughts she was able to push away during the day. 

Only Jane knew about the nightmares, but when they spoke of it, Tiana couldn’t bring herself to speak of the horrible things she had seen. She had seen her husbands face burned, seen him shot over and over. Waking up each morning she felt restless, more tired than before she slept. It was torture to go through. Another reason to work so hard; the more she worked, the less time there was for sleep, even if she was running on empty each day. 

She sighed and fumbled with her keys outside her front door, grabbing the milk the millkman had left for her and bringing it inside. Tiana had about two hours before she needed to be at the Palace. It was plenty of time to rest and get ready for the day. But she stopped in her tracks. Her hands became limp, they could no longer support the weight of the glass bottles. They crashed to the floor. Broken glass and milk splattered everywhere, unnoticed by Tiana. 

Her gaze was directed elsewhere. There, on the floor. A telegram had been slid through the mail slot in the front door. It sat there, waiting for her. 

No one in war was ignorant of what a telegram meant, most of all a young married woman. It meant that in all probability she was now a widow. This was how they told you the bad news. In the most cold and unfeeling way as possible. 

This wasn’t the first telegram like this Tiana had seen. She remembered years ago, during the last war, receiving one for her Mama, who wasn’t home at the time. Excited, and naive to what the envelope contained, she eagerly opened the telegram. Tiana was greeted with the news that her father was missing in action over seas. A few weeks later, they received another one saying he was dead. 

And now here she was faced with it again. The telegram stared up at her, taunting her with it’s knowledge, daring her to open it. What fate awaited her inside? And what of Naveen? But she knew, didn’t she? She knew what was inside. Ever since Naveen left, she had been preparing for it. Tiana knelt down and tucked her legs underneath her body.  Her heart beat loudly in her ears, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t stop the shaking of her hands as she opened the envelope. 

[….THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEP REGRET TO YOU -STOP- YOUR HUSBAND HAS BEEN REPORTED MISSING BELIEVED KILLED…]

Tiana felt the air retreat around her. She didn’t want to read anymore. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. Even though she had known, she did not want to believe. Tiana shook her head as the written words repeated over and over in her head, missing believed killed, missing believed killed, missing believes killed. 

No. No. No.

But the evidence was right in front of her. He was gone, and he was not coming back. She would never see him again.  

The tears started to flow. She couldn’t stop them. She didn’t want to. Tiana’s shoulders shook as she collapsed, weeping on the floor.

Receiving Naveen’s letter was a blessing. It revitalized Tiana, giving her the strength to continue. Knowing he was alright lifted her spirits. She glanced often towards the magic crystals Edward had given her not long before Naveen left. The ability to see her husband whenever she wanted in his travels seemed like a god send at the time, but now…. now that he was gone, and fighting….. it was hard to watch. She couldn’t bear to see him that way, and she knew it would only get worse. She decided she would just wait for his letters instead. 
Tiana suddenly had the urge to make something. She had been cooking almost non-stop at the restaurant in an attempt to keep her mind from drifting to unpleasant thoughts. But she hadn’t cooked, or baked for pleasure in a long time. It was time to change that. Even though it was late, she was going to bake bread. It always made her feel better - or at least more grounded. 
She didn’t have a starter (the mixture of yeast and dough used to give the bread more flavor) and it takes two or three days to get one really humming, but she still knew a few tricks to give a plain loaf some character. 
You don’t really need a recipe to make bread. It’s mostly about proportions - one package of yeast to six or seven cups of flour, two cups of water, and a tablespoon of salt. Tiana’s Daddy used to say that bread may not turn out the way you intend it to, but it always turns out. Just the same, it’s been so long since Tiana had done this, she used the recipe on the back of the flour bag as a jumping-off point. 

Plain Old Bread

• 1 tablespoon (1 packet) active-dry yeast
• 2 1/4 cups water
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 6 to 7 cups unbleached white flour 

Most recipes want you to use a whole envelope of yeast. This means the first rising will take only about an hour and the second maybe forty-five minutes to an hour - particularly if you put it in a warm place, which is what they usually suggest. Some go as far as telling you to put the dough in a gas oven warmed by the pilot light. 
This works fine. If that’s the kind of bread you want. Grocery-store bread. It was white - brilliantly unreal white - and it had the mouth feel of a damp sponge. 
But Tiana knew better. She had tasted bread that wasn’t full of additives and air. Her Daddy’s had learned to make real French bread, after much trial and error. Tasting it was like a religious conversion.
So the first thing she did was cut the yeast in half. You don’t want the dough to set a new land-speed record. What you want is a long, slow rise to build the texture and flavor. 
She combined the yeast with the water in a large crockery bow, stirred in the sugar, and let it sit for a few minutes while measuring the flour into another bowl.  Then she stirred in the flour with the biggest spoon she had. When it clumped together and pulled away from the sides of the bowl, Tiana turned it out on the counter and kneaded it for ten minutes, adding just enough flour to to keep it moving. Then she kneaded in the salt. Dead last. Because salt strengthens the gluten and makes the dough fight for you. 
When it’s smooth and elastic enough to spring back when she poked it, Tiana oiled a big bowl, sloshed the dough around in it - making sure the entire surface is oiled. Then she put a damp towel over it and set it as far from the stove as she could. Someplace like a wine cellar could be nice, but Tiana didn’t have one of those. She put it on her dining room table. 
With half the yeast, it takes twice as long to rise, so Tiana poured herself a glass of wine and started scraping dough off the counter. 
The scent of yeast hanging in the air reminded Tiana of Naveen. She had attempted to show him how to bake bread a long time ago. He didn’t have the patience to wait for the bread to rise. They compromised by dancing as they waited. The sharpness of the longing she felt took her somewhat by surprise. She wanted to touch his face, smell him, feel his body against hers. 
 She pulled out his letter, which had been living in her dress pocket since it arrived. Tiana already had it memorized, but looking at his handwriting, imagining him putting the words on the paper gave it more purpose. Lying on the couch, she absentmindedly traced the letters with her fingers, before falling asleep.

——

The next morning she woke, disoriented on the couch. Luckily she had woken up in the middle of the night and put the dough in the fridge so it wouldn’t overrise and fall flat. Before falling back into a deep slumber, not even making it upstairs. 
Tiana took the dough out, and set it on the stove to come to room temperature while she showered, dressed and cleaned the house for therapy. 
By noon it was workable, and Tiana shaped it into two oval loaves. She gave them a two-hour rise, spritzed them with water for a crackly crust,  and popped them into a 425ºF oven for thirty minutes. 
She had read somewhere that the smell of baking bread is a proven antidote to depression. It’s true. By the time the little loaves are cooling on the counter, Tiana felt revived. Good enough to take a walk. Deciding she could share her bread with someone, she grabbed one of the warm loaves and put it in the bottom of a paper grocery bag and headed out the door.  

Tiana walked home in the early morning light. Gasoline and rubber were rationed, so most people were taking public transportation around town, in leu of automobiles. It was too early for the trolleys to be running though. But she didn’t mind. It was a nice morning. She had just finishing her night shift at the factory where the local women worked to make planes for the war. Tiana was almost afraid to admit she liked it. She liked it a lot. 

Working with her hands, building something… it was exciting and made her feel like she was actually helping with the war effort. Not to mention, she was pretty good at it. 

She yawned, waving to the mailman as he passed her on his way out. Dragging her feet up the front steps of the porch, Tiana examined the letters he had left for her. 

Each day, Tiana hoped to see a letter from Naveen. Nothing had come yet, but she understood that it was difficult for him to write. Still, each day her heart beat faster as she quickly scanned through the letters for that oh so familiar handwriting. 

This morning was no different. Except….

There it was. A letter. From him. 

She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. Smiling, Tiana tore open the envelope and began to read.

Tiana, 

Boot camp was rough, the less I say about it, the better. I thought you were shaping me into a real man back home. You were way too easy on me. But it made me stronger, and soon enough I’ll be fighting for you over in—it doesn’t matter if I write it or not. I hear they’ll censor stuff like that. I finally got your letters, though. It’s great hearing about everyone back home. I miss all of them. And I miss you, a whole lot more than I thought I would. The food here’s edible, but I’d kill for a bite of your cooking again. 

Seeing you helps a little, but I’m just waiting to have you in front of me. Everyone here talks about their girlfriends or wives and we’re all dying to go home. Not being able to kiss you and hold you every day hurts, but every man here is feeling it too. I love you, honey, and I’ll be back home before you know it. Don’t worry so much. I’m safe, for now. I’ll see you again, I promise. 

Love,

Naveen

——-

Silent tears streamed down her face. Tears of joy that he was safe, sadness that he was soon going to be fighting. She still smiled though. 

Tiana carried the letter with her always after that. Pulling it out to re-read it, long after she had it memorized. 

Tiana lay in bed, trying to sleep. She was exhausted, but she could not turn off her mind. A thousand pictures filled her head, her mind was a flight, even if her limbs felt like they were made of lead. 

She closed her eyes, trying to relax. You’ve got to sleep. Miss Tiana. There’s another big day ahead of you. 

She had taken to sleeping on Naveen’s side of the bed. His scent still lingered on the pillow, and the little comfort it gave Tiana, she took. Sometimes she imagined she could still feel his strong arms around her. It was strange not having him sleep beside her. Lonely. Cold. Empty.

Dawn was creeping into the room. She sighed and gave up on sleep. Adding another to her growing list of sleepless nights. How many more would she have to go through? But she couldn’t help worrying. Was Naveen ok? Was he eating alright? Was he having problems sleeping too? 

“I miss you, baby.” she croaked out, breaking the silence of the room. Her eyes watered and she hastily wiped her tears away. Tiana was tired of crying. Tears did nothing to change the situation. 

She resolved to stop moping around. It did no one any good, especially her. Tomorrow, or rather, today, Tiana was going to start working. She had already made progress on her Victory Garden, thanks to Aurora’s help, and there was a lot more that could be done. There were scrap drives, war bond rallies, and lot of other places to volunteer to help the war effort.

She could join the Red Cross, or work in a factory. Yes, she still had to run Tiana’s Palace, but she had to do something to keep her mind from worrying too much. Especially if it could help Naveen. And Tiana was never afraid of hard work. She would do it. She would do it all.