Pitschen ma en gamba - Small, but powerful [A Band of Brothers Story]

One More Heartbreak

A/N: I update a bit ahead of schedule today for my friend @paradise1963, who has the most amazing theories about this story.

To say that they were shocked would have been the understatement of the month. They were absolutely flabbergasted.

Ella was first to recover. She set her bag down and pulled the note from the corkboard over the chest of drawers. She had to read it again, just to be a hundred percent sure she hadn't made a mistake or was imagining things.

"Das dörf nid wohr sii. Das gits doch nid." Isabel ran a hand through her dark-brown locks, turning around herself in distress as if she expected an explanation to pop up.

The younger woman sighed heavily. Jesus Christ.

Shaking herself out of her own stupor, Ella turned her attention to her mother. With a fair amount of gentle cajoling, she helped her take off her shoes and outer layers before steering her into the living room.

Getting Isabel settled on the bench by the stove, she told her to just have a seat while she made her some coffee. "I'll be right back, Mama. Just take it easy." Just like she had with anxious, disoriented patients, she kept her tone light, her voice gentle.

In the kitchen, Ella put on the kettle and while she waited for the water to boil, she reached for a piece of scratch paper and scribbled down a short message. She had a feeling that a trip to the telegraph office would be necessary in the near future.

Readying a large mug of coffee and putting in milk and sugar just the way her mother liked it, the small girl returned to the living room. "There we are", she said, smiling warmly, ignoring the sharp twinge shooting through her lip.

Isabel accepted the mug with a quiet "Grazia, charina" and cradled it in her hands, the note lying beside her, the dark letters glaring at them accusingly.

***

They sat in silence for a long while, trying to sort through the chaos that seemingly insignificant slip of paper had caused. Then, as shock gave way to a turmoil of emotions, Isabel burst into tears.

Ella quickly rescued the mug and put it out of reach before any coffee could spill onto the upholstery. Scooting closer to her Mama. she wrapped her in a big hug, holding on and weathering the storm with her.

"Wia kann er nu?", the older Sawyer woman sobbed, her voice cracking under the weight of thousand questions wanting to be spoken.

Ella rubbed her back in mindless patterns, not even noticing how the hot tears soaked through her pullover. "I don't know, Mama", she replied softly. "I don't know."

"He didn't even say anything!" The hurt in Isabel's tone changed shape and presented itself as indignation and anger. "Was für an Feigling", she huffed.

Ella didn't comment, but in her mind, she agreed. The least James could have done was talk to her mother face to face, like grown-ups.

With the tears drying up, Isabel kissed her daughter on the forehead and pulled back. She wiped at her damp cheeks and gladly accepted the handkerchief her sweet, big-hearted daughter offered her.

"I'll give you some space, if that's what you want, Mama", Ella spoke, worried eyes studying her face.

Isabel nodded and smiled, the light dimmed with hues of sadness and anger. Her daughter's perceptiveness and empathy really were a gift. "That would be nice. Thank you, charina." She sighed, the breath trembling as it left her lungs.