Chapter 25
In my bed, I lay on my back staring up at the ceiling. The curtains were firmly drawn. Bathroom breaks aside, I'd been in that exact position for what seemed like 3 months (In reality, about 3-4 days). I didn't feel like facing the real world, and it seemed easier to shut my self away in my little cave. Really I was just trading one foxhole for another.
A gentle knock came from the other side of the door.
"Come back later," I called out, rolling on my side to face the wall.
It came again.
"Mom, I just want to sleep!" I cried out.
She pushed open the door and walked right in, crossing over to the window and yanking the curtains open. Light exploded into the room and I groaned lightly, shoving my face into my pillow as the light burned at my eyes. She walked up to the side of my bed.
"Time to get up," She said, sternly.
"Mom, I just want to be alone for a while," I moaned, head still buried in my pillow.
She sighed, and sat down next to me on my bed. "Sweetie, I know you have things that are bothering you, and I know that you're also going through a readapting period at the moment. But, honestly, you want feel better until you get things resolved. And you won't resolve anything sitting around here like this."
I sat up, wiping at my eyes. "I'm not ready to face him yet."
"Okay, that's fine. By all means, wait until you're ready. But, please, for the sake of your mother's sanity you have to get out of here for a while," She said, taking my cheeks in her hands. "If only because it's washday and I really want to wash these dirty bed sheets."
"Okay, fine," I sighed.
"Good girl. Besides, I think there is another visit that you have to make. A visit maybe that you've been putting off." She said, pointedly. "Sharon."
Sharon was James's mother. She was like a second mother to me, although when we received the news about James's death, I'd found it a little awkward to be around her. She was deep in the grieving period, and I didn't know what to say to her that could take away the pain of losing her son. I wondered how she was now, over a year later. I supposed a visit to her was long overdue.
"I guess I should pay her a visit," I said, standing up.
My mother stood up and put her hands on my shoulders. "Good girl. Now, give yourself a good shake, go have a good long soak in the tub and get some fresh air into your lungs."
…………….
Ding Dong.
"Fiona!" Sharon opened the door to greet me, her eyes lighting up as she pulled me into the hug.
I smiled, glad to see the old Sharon back again. "It's so good to see you again!"
"You too. You look so different! Look at your hair, it's fabulous!" She said, ushering me into the apartment. "Come on inside, we have a lot to catch up on."
She led me through the sitting room towards the kitchen, passing James's father on the way. He was sitting slumped in his armchair, staring out of the window vacantly. Sadly, I recalled that he had been in exactly the same position the last time that I'd seen him…over a year ago.
"Hi Paddy," I said, friendly. No response.
Sharon ushered me into the kitchen, and pulled a chair out for me as she set about making tea.
"He still hasn't come to terms with it," She said sadly, setting the water on the stove to boil.
"I see that. I can't imagine how long the grieving process will be," I said, sadly. "How are you coping with it?"
"It's been hard, I won't lie. I was a broken woman for about 6 months, and I still haven't fully recovered. But it was people like your mother who helped to pull me back, making me see that I should be proud of what my son did over there. I have to ask you something though," She said, looking at me anxiously. "Did you find out anything over there? Did my son do lots of good over there?"
"Yes," I lied without hesitating, sensing that she needed someone to truly justify her son's death. I wasn't prepared to tell her that he died before actually making any impact on the war.
She smiled, contented, as she handed my cup of tea. "And you? Did you find any answers you were looking for over there?"
"Yes," I gave her a little smile. "I found everything I was looking for…sort of."
"Well that's good," She said, sensing that there was a topic there I didn't really want to talk about. "You know we were all so proud of you for doing what you did over there. James would have been so proud, too."
"No he wouldn't," I laughed. "Well, maybe he would. But he wouldn't have acted that way. He would have shouted me out for being irresponsible and stupid."
She laughed, heartily. "That sounds like my son. He was always trying to protect you. He would've been proud, really."
"I know," I smiled, my lip starting to quiver as we made eye contact.
"Hey now," She said, tapping me lightly on the hand. "Don't you start doing then, because you'll set me off."
"Sorry," I smiled, finishing my tea and standing up. "Anyway Sharon, I really should get going."
"Okay Sweetie," She said, leading me to the front door, where she stopped. "Oh, can you wait here for a second?"
"Sure," I said, as she rushed off to another room, running back and placing a key in my hand.
"What's this?" I asked, holding it up.
"It's the key to my parents' old apartment on Fennel Street," She said, smiling at me. "When my mother died, my father moved in with us. He wanted to give the apartment as a present to James when he got home but…well you know. I think he'd want you to have it."
"Oh, Sharon," I said, stunned. "Thank you so much, but I can't accept this. It's too much, I'm sorry."
"Please accept this for us," She pleaded. "I really think he would have wanted you to have it. I won't take no for an answer."
The look on her face suggested this meant a lot to her. "Okay. Thank you so much. This just means you better come and visit me very often!"
………………
I walked down the front steps rather stunned. I had my own apartment. Wow. I'd never even thought of living away from home. At the time it wasn't a common thing for a single girl of my age to do, and I wasn't even sure that my parents would let me. As I pondered this, I wasn't looking where I was going and smacked right into a woman walking down the street, sending her grocery bags flying to the ground.
"I'm so sorry!" I said, bending down quickly to help pick everything up.
"Don't even worry about it," She said, then stopped. "Fiona?"
I looked up. "Carla!...Hi."
"Well, isn't this such a coincidence," She said, laughing as we picked up the groceries.
"Sure is," I said, every hair on my arm standing on end. "I…I'm sorry I bumped into you."
"Oh don't worry, I wasn't looking where I was going either. Plus, I'm carrying so many bags," She smiled at me sweetly. She really was beautiful. I kind of hated her for it. "Say, I live quite nearby. I don't suppose you could help me out with these, could you?"
"Oh," I said, trying to think of any excuse. "Well, I really have to be…"
"Please," She said, cocking her head to one side. "It would really help me out a lot."
"I…I…sure," I said defeated, taking some of her bags off her. "Which way are we going?"
We walked mostly in silence, bar a few polite conversational questions about the weather and weekend plans. Eventually she led me up the pathway to a cosy, quaint little bungalow. Perfect, I thought a little bitterly to myself, perfect for newlyweds.
She led me inside and I placed the bags on her kitchen counter. "Well I should go."
"No, wait," She said, reaching for my arm. "Would you please stay for a cup of coffee?"
"I really can't," I said, instantly.
"Oh please," She begged. "I've been so looking forward to getting to know you, and we haven't really had a chance to talk."
"I…," I said, nothing coming to my mind. "Ok, that would be…nice. But, can I please use your bathroom first?"
"Absolutely," She beamed. "It's just past the sitting room on the left. I'll get the coffee started.
I walked to the bathroom, stopping dead in my tracks at the fireplace. Sitting on the mantle in front of me, was a wedding photograph of the two of them. Finally it was staring me in the face- solid evidence. My eyes welled up as I looked at it. Carla looked beautiful in her lace dress, her rosy cheeks positively glowing. Bill looked so handsome, although there seemed to be something hidden behind his eyes, something that was making his smile seem a bit forced. I don't understand, I wondered to myself, why isn't that me?
"Lose your way?" Carla's cheerful voice called from the kitchen, popping her head out of the door and pointing. "It's just there."
I ran into the bathroom and sat at the side of the bathtub, putting my head down between my knees and breathing deeply.
"I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this," I repeated, over and over.
I stood up and walked over to the sink, looking into the mirror as I splashed some cold water onto my face. It just felt so wrong. How could I be in the home of Bill Guarnere and his wife, especially when his wife wasn't me.
"Coffee's ready!" Carla called from the kitchen.
"Coming!" I called out, and walked back into the kitchen.
"I didn't know what you take in your coffee, so there are some bowls on the table. Help yourself," She smiled, setting down my coffee cup and a bowl of sugar.
"Thanks," I said, stirring in some sugar.
"So, are you happy to be home?" She asked, sitting across from me and pouring milk into her coffee.
"Yes," I said simply, staring aimlessly into my cup.
"Is it everything you expected?" She asked, unnervingly raising her eyebrows at me.
"More or less," I lied, mumbling.
"Can I just say, I admire you so much for having the guts to go all the way out there," She gushed. "I mean, when Bill told me about some of the stuff that you did out there, I just couldn't believe it."
"Bill told you?" I asked, looking up for a moment.
"Oh, Bill never stops talking about you," She told me. "He has so much admiration for you, as I'm sure they all did out there."
"Not really," I mumbled, looking back down at the bottom of my cup. "If anything, it was Bill and the other men that got me through out there. I don't think I could have done it without them."
"I highly doubt that," She giggled. "I learned from a very young age that the only thing that helps a good man function properly…is a good woman. I'm sure it was you that helped them get through out there."
I let out a little laugh, and then scolded myself. You laughed? Don't laugh, it's wrong!
I wasn't really sure if I wanted to know the answer to my next question. Maybe I didn't want to know, but I think I had to. "So…how did you and Bill meet?"
She beamed, proudly. "Oh you know how the story usually goes. We were childhood sweethearts. He proposed to me before he left. I thought it was so romantic. It didn't even occur to me at the time that he might not make it back alive. Still, I waited. Faithful, like a dog. But I was going nuts waiting, so I kept busy by planning the wedding."
"Wow," I said. "You were planning a wedding to a man who might not have come back? You…you must really love him."
"Of course I do," She said.
"That's…great," I faked a smile. Inside, I felt absolutely sick. The whole time Bill and I were together in Europe he'd been engaged, whilst wedding plans were being set in motion.
"So," She said, interrupting my thoughts. "What about your love life. Do you have a fella? Bill never mentioned one but I figured maybe he hadn't asked."
"My love life?" I squeaked. "No…nothing to tell there whatsoever."
"Oh come on…," She smiled slyly at me, but was interrupted by the sound of a car driving up the gravel pathway. "Bill's home, and I haven't even started dinner yet."
I stood up instantly. "I should get going."
I moved quickly for the door, stopping as it opened in front of me. There stood Bill and I, face-to-face.
"Hey there," He said, raising his eyes in shock.
"Hi Sweetie," Carla said walking up to us, drying her hands on a dishtowel. "I met Fiona on the streets and she helped me back with my groceries, wasn't that nice?"
"Uh…yeah," He said, still looking stunned.
"I have to go," I repeated, numbly.
"Well, say, Bill can drive you home," Carla offered, smiling at me.
I looked at him, panicked. "No, that's okay. I can walk, really."
"Nonsense," She tutted. "It's so dark outside. I won't hear of it. Bill, Sweetheart, take her home."
"O…okay," He said, pulling out his car key.
"No, really," I insisted, not wanting to get in a car with him.
"Fiona, please accept the lift. I'd feel happier knowing you got home safely," Carla stressed.
"Okay," I mumbled.
"Okay. Goodnight, Fiona. Thanks for coming round and I hope we can do this again, really soon. I'll start dinner, Bill," She said as Bill led me out to the car.
Reluctantly, I climbed in as he opened the door for me. He got in his side and we began to drive. As we drove it was deadly silent at first. Part of me wanted to grab him, punch him and ask him why. But the other part of me could still feel the electricity buzzing between the two of us and wanted to reach out and kiss him.
"Look, I…," He began.
"Don't," I said, silencing him.
"I need to explain this to you," He said, pleadingly.
"Will you calm down. You're driving so erratically, you almost went up on the curb," I exclaimed.
"Fuck, I can't drive like this," He said, pulling over into a lay-by and shutting off the engine. "You have to let me explain. It's important that you understand that I…"
"Bill, I understand perfectly," I said, looking out of the window and not at him.
"No you don't. I still love you damnit and I…," He started.
"Don't say that," I said, whipping my head round to stare at him. "You don't have the right to say that to me. Besides, I'm not ready to talk to you about all of this yet. All I will say right now, is that Carla is a brilliant woman and, as much as it kills me to say it, I can see why you fell in love with her."
"It's not like that," He insisted, but stopped. "She is a good woman, and this is all my fault not hers."
"Oh, I don't blame her for any of this," I said, sharply. "I want you to know that I blame you, entirely. You really hurt me, Bill Guarnere."
Feeling my eyes well up, I opened the door and jumped out. "I can walk the rest of the way. Goodnight."
………………
Twenty minutes later, I arrived emotionally exhausted back at my parents' apartment.
"Your father said you were out," A voice said.
I looked up to see Babe, sitting down on my front stoop waiting for me. "Hey, you."
"Hi," He smiled, bashfully.
I sat next to him on the steps.
"I talked to Bill," He said, simply.
"It's okay, Babe. I already know the story," I told him. "I spoke to Carla today and she told me everything."
"Do you hate her?" He enquired.
"No, I don't hate her," I sighed, putting my head in my hands. "I wish I could hate her but I don't. She's beautiful and she's a nice person. Everything you could want in a wife."
"For what it's worth, I still think he's a fool. I mean, I love the guy, but he's a fool," Babe said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Is there anything I can do?"
I scooted closer to him and put my head on his shoulder. "Will you just sit with me for a little while?"