It started with a box.
A box she really shouldn't have been going through, but curiosity won out, and who is she to be blamed should the contents have fallen out. Her generosity at picking it up, now that was what should be focused on.
These are all arguments she planned as she had tipped the small floral decorated wooden box over.
A good samaritan indeed.
Now she stews and maybe she shouldn't. Maybe she has no reason to. Maybe she had a soldier too. Maybe Angie should be allowed to have one of her own somewhere.
And maybe, maybe she was a little jealous.
Just maybe.
The first was addressed a quite a few years prior, Angie must've been about 16 if Peggy's math is anything to go by.
Dear Angie,
I've made it to camp here in California. You'll never believe how warm it is, bela. I'll take you next when I get back! Can you imagine, Ang, you've got a face for the screens.
It gets tough around here, you know I never wanted to fight right? I just- you can't say no. I'm worried, worried about my ma and sis, you and well even me. God, I don't mean to be like this. I just want you to know you keep me going. Whenever things gets tough around here I just remember that day sittin' down at the pier, and I close my eyes and remember your pretty smile.
This is my new address, I'll write you before any changes, darlin'. I've got to go.
I hope this letter finds you well.
With love,
- George
The first letter had hit her like a hammer, worse than any punches she'd suffered. How had she never heard of this man?
The next few read in the same way, answering questions and little anecdotes here and there. She followed their conversation from California, to France, then Germany and Russia.
The next letter is a more crumbled in areas than the others.
Dear,
I find myself thinking of that peir more and more these days. The things I see, Ang, I would never want that for anyone.
I hope the dinner is going well, I know you'll make it big one day I'll be right there in the front row to watch!
This letter is going to be a bit short, they're pulling our troop up to the front, don't be scared I'll be home soon. You're with me always. I know a letter isn't the best way to tell you this...but if not now...I love you Ang, when I get back I"ll ask you out everyday in a new way until you can find it in yourself to say yes.
See you soon, love.
-G
Eyes wide, Peggy reaches for the next letter. Her eyes flashing with the blur of the front lines.
Her searching hands meet an empty box.
Looking back at the letter she notices the crumples again. But instead of regular wear and tear they seem to be circular in nature...tears her mind identifies. Stomach sinking at the realization.
"He died over there," The voice from their bedroom door shakes her
Instead of replying she finds herself rubbing the page with her thumb, eyes locked with the blank face of her lover.
"George, he uh he went over and died. Didn't want to, you know? Then again not many did, I guess." She pauses, sitting down beside peggy to flip through the opened letters, "We met at the automat the day he shipped out. We got to talkin', and went down to the pier before the bus came. Said he bet I had a boyfriend but didn't care, he had no one to write a letter to."
"I still regret it sometimes."
"What?" Peggy finds her voice, moving her hand to rest comforting on Angie's knee
"I never told him I'm violets. I tried not to lead him on, but that last letter. He loved me, really loved me and I felt nothing but friendship to him." She stops eyes locking with Peggy's, "What if somehow he knew I wasn't? What if that stopped him from coming back? I've heard of guys thinking of their family right before pulling themselves out of near death...but he...I worry I killed him."
"You didn't, darling, I swear it." Peggy replied with a swallow and soft smile she continued, "If love could keep people from dying Steve would still be here, but it doesn't. People die, but he fought for you and you anchored him."
"You don't think he'd be mad?"
"This sweet man? No, not at all. Your opening night he'd be mad if I didn't save a seat for him beside me in the front row, but he could never be mad at you. It's something those of us that love you have in common."
"Thanks, English." Angie leans over with a teary-eyed kiss, "Speaking about mad, we're talking about your snooping later."
"And now?"
"Now we're talking about dinner and possibly desert." She replies with a wink getting up and dashing out of the room, "Pick that up while you're at it."
With a shake of her head, Peggy begins carefully gathering the slips of paper into the box. As she stands to place it in the closet she whispers "Don't worry, I'll take care of her" slides it back into place, and makes her way down the hall.