At 26, a cold and composed officer of the Women's Auxiliary Corps, Lieutenant Edith Sink is in control of her life. Within the parameters she has set, everything makes sense. Until the day Captain Richard Winters walks into her office.
Winters/OC/N...
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Lewis Nixon was running late, but not so late as to cause a problem when he got to his meeting at CP. He knew that he was one of the most brilliant officers in the Airborne. What had kept him from promotion was his tendency to overindulge in his whiskey. But they overlooked his discrepancies time and again. He wondered if they would overlook his tin cup sloshing with his hangover cure. He assumed not, but would try just the same.
"Any news from home, sir?" asked Private Flannery, the grunt in charge of the post.
Nixon grumbled, running a hand over his sore face. Everything hurt him. Flannery's too eager smile even hurt him. He grimaced and turned without a word.
"Oh wait, sir! I missed one, you have another letter here," Flannery called out as Nixon reached the door.
After trudging back to the counter, Flannery handed Nixon the dog eared envelope.
"Have a great day, sir! Don't forget this as well." Flannery pushed the half empty cup towards the officer that he had left behind.
Nixon grabbed it with a frown, muttering under his breath, "Go stick your head in a bucket..."
"Sir?" Flannery quirked his uni-brow.
"Nothing, nothing. Carry on." Nixon waved a hand and strode back towards the door.
Before pulling it open, he peeked at the address on the letter. His stomach tightened. It was from his mother. He had a feeling he knew what it was about. Swinging open the door, his dark eyes still on the envelope, he collided smack into another body.
"Excuse you!" A female voice exclaimed.
Nixon looked up and his jaw dropped. Tomato juice mixed with a raw egg was splattered all over the WAC uniform of Colonel Sink's daughter. Her jaw dropped as her glare rose to his bewildered expression.
With a weak scoff, Nixon scratched his hairline. "Heck of a way to start a Monday, huh?"
He knew it wasn't the best thing to say at such a moment. An apology would have been better. It was the first thing that popped out of his mouth and it was too late to take it back.
Edith Sink's face turned as red as the stain on her pressed khaki. Nostrils flaring, he hopped back as she swatted the cup from his hand into the road. A passing vehicle crushed it. With as much dignity as she could muster, she marched down the sidewalk.
Gaping after her, Nixon stared till she turned the corner. With a sigh, he looked back down at the letter in his hand.
"Heck of a way to start a Monday," he muttered, tearing it open.
He'd had the feeling that in the end Madeline wouldn't have the decency to tell him she was leaving him. He'd been right. His mother had to be the one.
He had met his wife of five years in college while they were students. She had come from old money. Madeline had expected him to make something more of himself socially. She was getting impatient even before he had left for Basic, even with their son in her arms.
Now she had finally done it. She'd left. The divorce papers would be along soon. Not that he could put all the blame on her, though he'd never admit it out loud. He wasn't so stupid to pretend that marriage wasn't a two way street.
He spit through his teeth, his throbbing headache increasing by the minutes. Glancing down at his wrist watch, he snorted. Fifteen minutes late for a meeting set a new record for him. Running a hand over his raw eyes, he considered giving it another five just to be impressive. If he was going to hold the record, might as well make it a humdinger.
***
The day was getting better by the minute.
The ill-bred monkey hadn't even apologized after drenching her in tomato juice. It forced Edith to stop her day to go change back at her quarters. Her schedule had been completely thrown by the time she returned to her office. She remembered the man as one who hung around Captain Winters. Shadows under his blood shot eyes had given away his hangover. Edith bristled at the memory.
Bad tempered from a wasted weekend in Paris, Edith was doing her best not to snap at Samantha. Finally, she sent her on an errand, unable to stomach the girl's tendency to whistle.
The quiet of their joint office was blissful. Edith missed the private room she had called her workspace back in England. Smoothing out the front of her now clean jacket, she surveyed her desk.
Everything was exactly how she had left it on Friday. She shifted through the neat piles of paperwork organized by urgency. The envelope on the corner was the one she was going to mail before the incident.
She tapped her finger nail on the letter written for home. Her mother still asked after Colonel Dobey. It had been months since Edith had mentioned him. She now remembered why she had never discussed her love life with her mother. As her mother's last single daughter, she was now the target of all comments. Even across the sea, Edith couldn't escape her mother's intense fear that she was bound for spinsterhood.
There was no way she would tell her about Paris. She wasn't going to tell anyone. Captain Richard Winters was nice, but Dobey had seemed nice too at first. Edith didn't have time to rebuild her world again. If she saw him, she decided she would just pretend nothing had happened. After all, with a war on and all, there were more important things to worry about than a broken date.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in!" Edith barked, frustrated at the interruption.
Her father's orderly entered with a note. Edith dismissed him. She sighed as she read it. Colonel Sink wanted to see her at HQ as soon as she was available. From the blunt sentences, she could tell he meant business. With any luck, he wouldn't remember to ask after her weekend. And when he told her as soon as she was able, he meant that very moment.
Her chair scraped the floor as she rose to her feet. Samantha entered at that moment, her cheeks flushed with cold.
"I'm off to see the colonel." Edith neatened her cap on her bright head. "Don't leave for lunch till I come back."
"Oh, but I was going to ask if-" Samantha stopped cold with Edith's glare and her face fell. "Yes ma'am."
"Good. I'll be back after my meeting."
Edith didn't have time to ask after Sergeant Quincey's feelings. They had work to do. The girl would have to deal with it. Just as Edith did.
