Lieutenant Edith Dixon gripped the door handle with a deep breath. Her ears were still burning. She closed her eyes and focused on the familiar hum of a plane engine overhead. The tingling at the back of her neck muted and her heart regained its former, rhythmic thrum.
Straightening her shoulders, Edith pushed the door open into the temporary office space. Sergeant Samantha Quincey peered over a pile of brown personnel folders in her arms. Her assistant stopped in the middle of the room and smiled. Edith gave a curt nod, unpinning her hat with calm fingers.
"How was your lunch?" Samantha chirped.
"Good." Edith straightened her uniform jacket with a quick jerk.
"The Colonel called while you were out."
"What did my father want?"
"Not that Colonel." The girl flashed a tight lipped grin as her olive green eyes danced, "It was the British one, Bentley."
Edith's empty stomach lurched. Her face soured as she marched to her private office, "What did he want?"
"He wanted to confirm your plans for later."
"If he calls back tell him I cannot-" Edith paused as she struggled to regain her composure. She sat at her desk, Samantha hesitating by her door, "I am unable to keep our plans."
The last word choked past the growing lump in her throat. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried. After a moment of stilted silence, Samantha nodded.
"Will you please close the door behind you, Sergeant Quincy?" Edith requested, plucking a folder from her desk and shuffling through it.
Samantha obeyed, leaving Edith to the boxed solitude of her windowless office. Once alone, Edith leaned back in her chair. She held her palms against her burning forehead. Inhaling even breaths through her nose and out of her mouth, she regained control of her emotions.
Opening her eyes, she whipped open a desk drawer to start on work. Anything to get her mind straight. Her leather bound copy of the New Testament slid into view where it had been buried in the back of the desk. Her mother had given it to her before she had left for Europe. Edith tapped a manicured nail on the cover, furrowing her brow. She shoved the drawer closed once more. She would think about God’s censure later after she had punished herself first.
It was doubtful that her father had gotten wind of this debacle. The only one who knew was Samantha. The young brunette from Kentucky could be thoughtless at times, but Edith was confident in her discretion.
She decided the best way to deal with the situation was to ignore Colonel Bentley's messages. He wasn't the type of man to seek out a woman who was avoiding him. He had too much ego for those kinds of the games. He rang back later that afternoon to inquire about rescheduling their plans. Edith had Samantha tell him the week looked too busy to confirm anything. He tried two more times the next week. After those rejections, he got the picture.
For a month, Edith's stomach dropped whenever her father called to speak with her. Weeks passed and Colonel Dixon remained ignorant to the entire affair. The Bible remained in the desk drawer and Edith tried to forget about it. She was determined to patch herself up without God’s help. She didn’t deserve it anyway, she had gotten herself into that mess in the first place.
Edith welcomed the loneliness. She snuggled down deep into its comfortable folds, guarding it like an expensive fur. Samantha stopped trying to make conversation about anything but work.
The world made sense again.
The 101st left for Holland in September but to no avail. They were pulled back to France while the brass tried to figure out another way into Germany. By December, the paratroopers were banking on a few months of reprieve from battle. They were surely dropping into Germany in the spring.
On a winter’s day, she received her orders from Regiment. They only gave her three days to pack up before leaving England for good. Edith could barely restrain herself as she had read the telegram. Three days to organize and clean up their work space. Samantha had been planning on a weekend to London with a few other WACs but she would have to forgo it. Edith had ignored her heaving sighs of disappointment all day long.
“It’s three in the afternoon, Lieutenant.” Samantha finally broke the silence.
Edith fished out another folder and hummed in her throat, “Yes is it, Sergeant Quincey.”
“Ma’am, you haven’t taken lunch yet. Shouldn’t you go…”
Edith’s stare shot across the room at the petite brunette. Samantha bit her lip and turned back to her work. Slapping the folder closed, Edith sighed as her stomach rumbled. With so much work to be done, food was just a nuisance.
She strode over to the door, situating her cap over her pitch perfect chignon, “I’ll just be ten minutes. I expect the paperwork in the box by the door to be destroyed by the time I get back.”
Edith strode out into the late afternoon chill. She decided to take lunch at her quarters instead of venturing into the mess hall. She had no patience for brainless small talk, not with so much to do.
A jeep came to a stop and Edith trotted across the street. It blared its horn and she halted on the other side. Narrowing her eyes at the driver, she got ready to give him a piece of her mind. She froze when she recognized him.
Colonel Bentley sat behind the wheel. His easy, broad smile cut right through her. He rested a wrist on the wheel and gave her a salute.
“Long time, Edith. How are you?”
Edith struggled to maintain her presence of mind. Her mouth went dry and all she could manage was a nod. She had often imagined the acidic comments she would sling at Bentley if she ever saw him again. Now that she had her chance, all she could do was stare.
“Busy?”
“Always busy,” she choked, clenching her fists, “Good day, Colonel.”
She strode down the empty street, willing her knees to not give way.
“Lieutenant!” Colonel Bentley cranked the jeep in reverse and rode up alongside her.
Edith refused to slow her pace or look over at him, “Colonel, I really do have a lot on my schedule.”
“I’m sure of that. I always have admired your work ethic, Edith. Can I give you a lift to wherever-“
“I’m quite fine, thank you.” She snapped.
Bentley sighed, “So I take it you heard the news?”
Her heart dropped. She halted in her footsteps and glared over at him, “What news?”
His brilliant blue eyes crinkled as he grimaced, “The engagement. Mine to be exact-”
“I already knew of that months ago, Colonel.”
He blinked at her, “Months ago?”
“Yes, months,” she scoffed, “Why do you think I never replied to your messages?”
Bentley bit his bottom lip and slumped back into his seat, “Oh dear, what a mess.”
“Frankly, Colonel, I don’t see a mess. I just see a waste of my time. Now if you will excuse me.” She marched down the street, heart beating so hard it hurt.
“Edith, wait,” the jeep backed up towards her, “I’m sorry. I never- I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you told me you loved me. Before we…” She couldn’t bring herself to mention their weekend trips and sleeping in the same bed. Her regret on those decisions still gave her internal bleeding.
“I was thinking about leaving Martha for you. I would have but you were just so-”
With a scoff, Edith balked at him, “Just so what, Colonel?”
Bentley shrugged, “Cold.”
Edith had heard it before but coming from Bentley, it stung. She retreated, eyes burning with unshed tears, “Goodbye, Colonel.”
He didn’t follow her as she continued down into the village. She left England a few days later on a ferry for Normandy. Edith had hoped once she was off British soil and in a new environment, the bad taste in her mouth would fade. It didn’t.
Thankfully there was enough to do in Camp Mourmelon to keep her occupied. Edith had only gotten settled into her new office when Colonel Dixon decided it was time she take a few days off.
"For what?" Edith demanded in his office, "Why do I need to see Paris? Did I do something wrong?"
"Edith, it's not a punishment. Most of the camp is itching to get to the city-"
"But not me! It would be a waste!"
Colonel Dixon set his hands on his desk and leaned towards his eldest daughter.
"Because your mother insisted." He hissed.
"You are exiling me because of mother?"
"A weekend away from Camp Mourmelon is hardly exile, Edie. Stop acting like a child and just go!" Her father dropped his hand on the desk with a thud.
Edith blinked at the sound and straightened her posture. Her father’s rebuke dug deep but she hid it behind a placid expression. She ducked her head, folding her hands at her back.
"Go have a little fun, Edie. It will be good for you." Colonel Dixon sighed before turning towards his file cabinet by the window.
Edith left without another word. She dropped into her office to make sure Samantha knew she would be leaving early that afternoon. A flicker of relief washed over the girl’s face. Edith did her best to brush it off before it could offend her. She returned to her quarters in town where she lived with an elderly French couple. After packing a light bag, she caught the mid-afternoon transport into the city.
Most of the personnel at Camp Mourmelon hankered for a chance to see the recently liberated city. Edith was not one of them. Cities overwhelmed her, the noise and chaos. Edith stuck her head in her city guide and French phrase book, desperate to maintain control of her environment.
The city was abuzz with bodies. The streets clamored with military persons from many different countries. Earlier in the year she had visited London, a city still recovering from years of Luftwaffe attacks. Paris sparkled in comparison as Hitler had spared it as a trophy for his eventual empire.
Avoiding a cab as it cut a sharp corner, Edith held her guide book to her chest. Snapping it closed, she sighed and looked around the street. She had no idea where she was and the realization made her panic a little. Holding her head high, she ignored a cat call as she crossed to the other sidewalk. She turned down another street.
She came upon the church before she realized it was there. Considering its size, Edith couldn’t understand how she missed it. It wasn’t anything like Notre Dame but still, it dwarfed her family’s parish back home. As she approached the many columned structure, she saw the one of the doors was ajar.
It wasn’t a Sunday, perhaps she could sneak inside. She edged up the steps and peeked into the sanctuary. Maybe it was the candles glowing in their red cups or the colorful glass, but her heart dropped. Other churches had sparked only historical curiosity for her. Edith was rocked by the quiet simplicity of this one. A tug at her heart beckoned her inside.
Stepping over the threshold, she noticed an elderly lady toddling towards the entrance. The woman met Edith’s eyes. Her powdered face glowed from confession and prayer beads dangled from her wrinkled hands. She walked as though she weighed nothing. As she smiled, Edith backed away. There was no doubt God loved that little lady, but Edith’s questions about her own worth dug into her brain. She fled from the church.
She ducked down into the underground subway. Like she was hiding from God, like Jonah in the belly of the ship to Tarshish. She gave a heavy sigh as she slipped into a seat in one of the cars. Banishing the thought, she pulled open her guide book.
She had been riding for almost an hour when her stomach growled. Edith decided that the next stop after that one she would get off to find somewhere to eat. She poured over the map in her book, looking for anything that would lead her in the right direction.
The Metro car jolted to life with a metallic snap. Edith glanced up from her book to see the broad back of a uniformed American soldier sink into a seat in front of her. She tucked the hem of her skirt around her shin and returned her attention to her guide.
Edith ran her finger over the page she was reading. The Paris city guide had been her mother’s. She had given it to her eldest daughter in the hopes she would make use of it. The only thing that could've sparked Edith’s interest in Paris would've been the Louvre. Hitler's passion for art that didn't belong to him squelched that possibility. The famed museum had been out of commission since the invasion. The priceless works of Raphael and van Eyck floated around Europe in the chaos of war. Edith cringed at the thought.
The subway car heaved to the left and the lights blinked. The Metro cord outside cracked with electricity. The sound snapped her out of her musings and back into the present. Her eyes flickered off the page towards the seats facing her in the front. An older woman crocheted next to an amorous couple.
The lights danced. A sharp blue flash fractured against the windows from the tunnel outside.
A toddler cuddling with its mother babbled across from Edith. The serviceman in front of her turned his head. He looked back at the child as she dropped a small red ball. Before Edith could catch it, the serviceman leaned down and snatched it. The young woman murmured her thanks in French as he handed it to the baby.
Edith made a double take of his profile. His long face ended in a strong chin jutting out from a somber mouth. His brow was heavy but onyx eyes pleasant as he nodded to the mother. With that mop of sleek black hair, Edith sat up as she remembered him.
She had given Lieutenant McKay little thought since their brief meeting back in England. She'd only heard snippets about him. Her father had mentioned he was half Cherokee Indian and from out west. When her father spoke of him, she felt a pang of jealousy. Colonel Dixon spoke with highest esteem of his leadership skills and work ethic. Edith wondered if it would have been easier to earn her father's respect if she had been born male.
McKay faced the front of the car. The Metro screamed to a halt at its next stop. Edith put off her plans of finding a café for a late dinner. She looked down at her book and decided to get off the next time.
The next stop came and went, Edith flipped the page and stole a peek at the back of his head. He hadn't budged, rather was focused on something in front of him. There was nothing there but the short divider between the halves of the car. It was as though he was seeing something the rest of them couldn't.
The car lost its passengers as time slipped away. She'd turn the page of her book and snatch glances at the Captain's motionless figure in front of her. She wasn’t curious by nature but McKay intrigued her. She couldn't understand why a handsome officer would spend his time in Paris riding the Metro. Most of the men in his position would be taking advantage of the liquor and French women that the city offered.
A shudder ran through the car as the Metro halted. Edith's thoughts stopped cold. She peeked down at her wrist watch and realized that they had come to the end of the last run of the day. Her heart sunk as she noticed that it was only she and the Lieutenant left in the car.
Tugging her arms into the sleeves of her coat, she straightened the collar and glanced at him one more time. McKay was unaware that they had stopped. Edith tucked the book under her arm and made her way past his seat. She took one step down, holding onto the perpendicular rail by the door and looked back. She would have laughed if the sight hadn’t been almost sad. Lieutenant McKay had fallen asleep sitting up. She wondered how he got any rest in such a position but realized it probably wasn’t the first time.
When she was a little girl, she had found a picture of her father from the Great War. Deep in a fox hole, his mouth ajar as he slept sitting up. Coated in mud, he clutched his weapon like it was his child. She had raced to ask her mother about it. Her mother's thin lips pursed. For the first time in her young life, Edith found out what her father had done in his youth. The horror of war wasn't easy to escape for either of her parents, despite the years and miles in distance.
Edith felt an unfamiliar tug at her heart. She stepped back onto the Metro and approached his seat. Laying her fingers on the seat in front of him, Edith cleared her throat. Alexander McKay blinked awake. He closed his mouth as he peered up at her in a daze.
"I'm sorry, I thought it was you," she sputtered, "I just… I saw you here and I wanted to make sure you were alright."
He sat up straight, taking in his surroundings as though he were seeing them for the first time in hours.
"Yes, you are alright. Well, have a good weekend." Edith retreated and hopped off the car.
"Lieutenant Dixon!" She heard him holler close behind when she emerged out onto the street, "Wait a minute!"
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