Only in My Dreams

By Sherri Lupton Hollister

When her brother is killed at Pearl Harbor, nurse Lydia Davis puts her wedding to pilot and mechanic, Jeremy Cross on hold to join the Women's Army Corp of nurses, leaving to do her part for the war. Battling death and disease on the battlefields of Africa and Italy, Lydia faces many regrets, chief among them, leaving Jeremy. When Lydia finally returns to civilization for a short holiday in England, she discovers her former fiance, Jeremy is also stationed there. Will they rekindle the love they once took for granted or just take comfort from the horrors of war in each other's arms?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dragonfly River Press
• Release date: Oct 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201076443

Sherri Lupton Hollister

People have often asked me why I don’t write about my adventures raising six sons. I have to admit that I prefer to write their stories as fiction because no one believes the stuff they put me through if I tell it as fact. In fiction I can clean my boys up a little when I like them and make them the heroes of my stories and if they’ve pissed me off, I can make them the villains. It’s been a running joke around our house that mom will put you in her book and kill you off on page fifty, but some know they’re the smelly corpse discovered in the ditch at the very beginning of the story. Heck, it’s not even a threat anymore my grandkids are begging to be put in my books and even telling me how I can kill them off. I mean really, where’s the threat in that? We put the fun in dysfunctional, what can I say? I have long conversations with my children and grandchildren about blowing things up and how to get rid of bodies. The holidays are never boring around our house.

Book preview

North Carolina November 1941

The bus rattled to a stop kicking up dust on the dirt road. Lydia stood, trying to unstick her slip from her thighs and fluff the wrinkles from her cotton uniform without drawing notice from her fellow passengers. With the press of people crowded onto the old bus and the blast of the heater, she felt as if she was sitting inside an oven. Pulling her sweater from the seat, she waited impatiently for her turn to step off the bus.

The cool crisp autumn air hit her face prickling her sweat dampened skin. She slid her arms into it, inhaling the clean scent of the warm knit and perfume of home: brackish water, pine trees and woodsmoke.

Lydia!

Hi, Lydia.

Are you home for Thanksgiving?

Welcome home.

She waved and greeted her neighbors. Glad to be home if only for a little while.

Here’s your bag Miss. Lydia. The old black porter set her bag on the brick walkway behind the bus depot.

Thanks Mr. Cotton. She slipped a nickel into his large, callused palm when she reached for her bag.

The old man nodded his thanks as he pocketed the coin. Is someone coming to get you today?

Glancing around, she shook her head. I thought Jeremy would be here.

With a grin, he pointed up to the tiny dot up in the clear blue sky. Looks like he’s running a little late.

As the dot soared closer, Lydia gasped. He got the old plane working?

Yes’m, he sure did. The old man couldn’t have been prouder if he was Jeremy’s father. Old Cotton was the one who’d taught him how to be a mechanic.

With a dramatic sigh, she replied, Well, it looks like I’ll be walking home.

I saw your daddy at his office, you might be able to catch him. You want me to watch your bag while you go fetch him?

Daddy knows I’m coming in today and surely he’s heard Jeremy got the plane in the air, so he’ll come looking for me, but thank you. She waved and lugged her bag to front of the bus depot. She barely cleared the side of the building before a black Ford sedan pulled to the curb.

Her father leaped from the driver’s side, and with a smile and a wave shouted, Happy Thanksgiving nurse Lydia.

Dropping her bag, she threw herself into her father’s arms. I not a nurse yet.

It won’t be much longer. With a one-armed hug he picked up her small suitcase with the other and ushered her into the car. Come on, your mother will be in the middle of baking and will be happy to have the extra help.

Oh, you’re going to help bake pies? She teased.

I’ll have you know I’ve made a few pies in my day. He launched into a familiar story of his learning to cook while her mother was confined to bed during the last months of her pregnancy. My first attempt at making biscuits were so bad even the dog wouldn’t eat them, but we did use them to pave the driveway.

Lydia chuckled she’d heard the story before, but she enjoyed hearing it again.

LYDIA STUCK HER HEAD out of the window to watch Jeremy’s plane do a loop-de-loop. Oh, my goodness, he’s going to make me a widow before I’m a bride. She laughed, ducking her head back inside the car pressing her hand to her heart.

That boy is a daredevil. Are you sure you want to marry him? He asked. You know, you don’t have to rush into marriage...

Daddy, we’ve hardly rushed.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. I’m concerned that with you just getting your nursing degree, maybe you’d be better off to wait...

I thought you liked Jeremy, she turned to her father in alarm. Jeremy’s Uncle Douglas had brought him to live with him after his parents’ deaths. There had been a period soon after Jeremy had arrived in town when he’d caused mischief, but Douglas and his friend, old Cotton, had done their best to keep him busy. Douglas was a known bootlegger. Could that be what had her father worried?

I do like him, I... it’s difficult for women, working and after you’re married, they’ll be children.

Relaxing, Lydia nodded. "I know,