Title:
January
Characters: Faye Tanner
(Muck's girlfriend)
Rating: G
A/N: When it sank in that Skip Muck had a girlfriend the time he died, I felt extremely bad for the women who had lost their men to the war, so I dedicate this story to them.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I mean no respect to anyone.
Faye Tanner glared out her bedroom window. The snow that hung off buildings looked like icing drooping off cake. She could feel the icy draft through a crack in the glass. She didn't mind it much, the snow, the cold, all which came with January reminded her of Warren. Faye pulled her legs closer to her body, clutching a letter in her hands. She was smiling, but Christ, she missed him. She craved those winter nights completely intertwined together, listening to the crackle of the fire. She longed for those soft hands, untouched by war. Smooth fingers wiping snowflakes off flushed cheeks.
As usual, Faye always caught herself thinking of the good times. She didn't want to jinx it, then have him end up coming home in a coffin; she often joked. Faye never had doubts that Warren wasn't coming back. He had always told her to stay as positive as she can. Just before he left, he made her promise she wouldn't cry, for her strength kept him alive. Besides, Muck wouldn't die. He swam across the river a few years back, proving he was a cat, with nine lives to spare.
The memory took Faye way back. She remembered it all. His mother's hysteria, and how red the slap mark on his face was. She remembered standing on the bank, watching him swim, struggle, and drown his way to the other side. The falls weren't too far ahead. She rather him drown then go over. Faye was a bat outta hell when she got him back. Of all the ideas you could come up with... Definitely a cat.
Faye had finished the last of many replies to Muck. She signed the bottom with a heart and placed a kiss on the envelope. As she sat up straight, she strained her ears and heard a small knock at the front door. Faye tore off the blanket from her legs, and scurried down the flight of stairs, her letter to her beau in her right hand.
As she opened the large wooden door, A frigid January breezed brushed past her bare legs. To her surprise, Mrs. Muck and her daughter Ruth stood solemnly in the doorway. Intrigued, but brought down by their mysterious visit, Faye noticed a change in emotion in the atmosphere. The air seemed heavy, crushed under the weight of their grief-stricken presence. The women did not speak; Faye silenced by their silence.
Ruth held out a shaky arm, and handed Faye a letter. She dared lower her eyes to the paper, and noticed the official United States Army stamp in the top corner. "We are sorry to inform you…" Faye's right hand went numb, and barely felt her letter to Muck slip out of her fingers.
Suddenly, January didn't seem all that comforting anymore.