A/N: New York here we come! I moved in to my new apartment/dorm Tuesday and had an absolute blast meeting my roommates. I'm considering starting an Over/Under betting pool with a few of my friends to see just how long it takes me to have them watch Band of Brothers with me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The train pulled into Grand Central Terminal at close to midnight. Retrieving their luggage didn't take too long, much to Alice's relief. The lights in the massive terminal had been turned down for the evening. A few hundred people moved to and fro despite it being almost midnight.
Alice stuck close to Nixon. He knew where they were going. They climbed the stairs. Soon, they'd reached the streets of New York City. A gentle flurry of snow fell around them. None of them spoke. Their fatigue was palpable.
Nixon flagged down a taxi. Alice took the middle again, and she didn't particularly mind being squished between the warm bodies of Ron and Nix. The drive to Nixon, New Jersey only took about forty minutes. Before long, the taxi pulled up outside a massive, mansion style house.
Alice followed Ron out into the driveway. She eyed the building. It had dozens of large windows scattered about the dark façade. There weren't any cars to be seen, and the building remained dark. She remembered Nixon telling them that they'd have the house to themselves; his whole family spent Christmas and the rest of winter in California.
Snow still fell around them. Her face burned from the chill, and she fumbled for a cigarette. Ron lit it for her. Soon, Nixon had paid the taxi driver and they all stood looking at the Nixon Family home.
"Welcome to Nixon, New Jersey." He strode forward. Digging around under some dead flower pots, he found a key. "Right this way gentlemen and lady."
She followed. He unlocked the door quickly. It swung open effortlessly, and as he stepped inside, he flipped on a light to his right. The light in the massive foyer came to life. A chandelier hung down above them, and to its right a staircase of dark mahogany wood led upwards. To their left off the foyer lay a living room with beautiful couches and a pristine record player.
They moved further in, down the foyer. They passed a restroom, a closet, and soon found themselves with a kitchen to the right followed by a dining room, and to their left, another living room. This second living room looked more lived in, and had a radio set up. A piano sat along the wall, large and well kept. Someone had mounted a vintage looking viola above a fireplace mantle.
"Pick a bedroom upstairs." Nixon gestured towards the staircase at the front. "My sister's old room can go to Alice. We've got plenty of extra bedrooms for you two."
Together they backtracked to the front of the house and went up. Nixon showed Ron and Dick to guest rooms. They didn't wait to be told twice, and soon went to bed. Alice found Nixon's sister's room without too much trouble, as well.
The bed looked and felt well made, antique but comfy enough. On the walls, photographs of various places hung next to each other. Alice recognized some from Europe. She even found a photo of the Arc de Triomphe. They were beautiful photos. On a wooden dresser, she finally found a picture of the woman. She had well-styled dark hair and dark eyes just like her brother, who stood beside her in the photo. Small nosed, sharp eyed, she had a smile that could've melted anyone. On the photo, someone had written "Lewis & Blanche 1940."
Alice changed into her sleepwear and brushed her hair. Despite the calm of the house they stayed in, her mind raced. She'd napped fitfully on the train. None of the men had said anything, but she could tell they'd noticed her disturbed sleep. With a sigh, she stood in the bedroom and looked around. Finally, she tiptoed barefoot back down the stairs. To her surprise, she found Lewis Nixon standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a drink.
"Got enough for a second drink?" she asked quietly. Alice leaned against the counter top.
Nixon looked at her in surprise. "You're still up?" Grabbing a second glass, he found a bottle of red wine. "Here."
She hummed. Putting it to her lips, she took a sip. Merlot, it tasted like. Not her favorite, but a good blend. "Not bad."
With a snort, he shook his head. He poured her some more to top it off. "How do you like Blanche's room?"
"It's nice. Did she take all the photographs?"
He smiled. "Yeah. She's damn good, isn't she? Even as a kid she could get incredible photos. She got a bunch when we spent time in Europe."
Alice took her wine with her as she moved into the living room to their left. She settled on the couch, and Nixon took a large, comfy chair. They stayed quiet. But Nixon eventually interrupted the peaceful silence.
"What did the men treat you to last night?"
"We had drinks and then they insisted we play Truth or Dare back at the barracks," said Alice. She couldn't suppress a grin. "It was quite entertaining."
"Shit, wish I could've seen it." He took a drink of his whiskey. "Did you take more truths or more dares?"
"I only took one dare. And no, I'm not telling you what it was. But the truths weren't too bad."
"Yeah?"
"I think the toughest was having to tell each what my first impressions of them were." She hid a small smile behind her wine glass. Memories of the previous night rushed back in.
"Yeah? What were your first impressions of us three?" He also tried to hide his smirk behind his glass, but the small size of the shot glass failed him.
Alice scoffed. "We aren't playing."
"So you're too scared to say?"
"I never said that."
"Then tell me."
Another sip of red wine coated her mouth and throat. She closed her eyes for a moment and focused on the tingling growing in her extremities. Outside the massive windows, Alice could still see the snow falling.
"Fine. Well. I met you and Dick at the same time. I definitely remember thinking that Dick was kind, and thoughtful, and would be someone I would enjoy getting to know. A level head." Alice paused, taking another sip. "You on the other hand were louder and more brash. Like most Americans." She gestured for him to stop as he went to reply. "But, you also had wit, and honestly seemed least confused about how to interact with me." She nodded. "I appreciated that."
"And Ron?"
She grinned. "Ronald Speirs. I tell you, the enlisted don't like that I'm on a first name basis with him. They seem to think he's dangerous." After Nixon laughed, she continued. "Ron Speirs. He intrigued me. He's quiet, but intense, and smart. He's the kind of man we would've died to have on our side in the Maquis."
"Hm." Nixon didn't respond right away. He just watched her, thinking.
Alice shifted in her seat. "Your turn."
"What?"
"First impressions of me. And you're not getting out of this." She stood up. Walking to the kitchen, she added, "You have until I refill my glass to think about it."
She came back into the living room a few minutes later. Her bare feet padded against the hardwood floors. Nixon had started the fireplace and turned off the main light. Neither wanted to wake up the two who were sleeping upstairs.
"First impressions of you?" He smirked. "A fish out of water."
"Rude."
He just laughed. "Oh come on. It's true. You held your own well, but you didn't quite know what to do with yourself, and no one else knew what to do with you."
"You're so fucking observent, I hate it." She gulped down more of her wine. "I don't know why they haven't put you in Intelligence yet. But besides me being totally out of my depth, what else."
"Smart. Anyone with a brain of their own could see that. You knowing four languages fluently said enough." Then he paused to take a drink. "Lonely. I don't think I need to explain that one. Beautiful, kind, sad."
Alice shot him a look. But she didn't protest. She'd asked for the analysis. Sometimes she forgot how smart Nixon was until he dropped his humor.
"You also tried very, very hard to not be friends with anyone."
Alice groaned. "Yes. That ship sunk."
With a chuckle, he agreed. He took a drink. "Yeah, well I made sure of that."
This time it was Alice who laughed. "You give yourself too much credit. George Luz was a driving force there."
Nixon didn't respond right away. He retreated back into the kitchen to get more alcohol, leaving Alice to sip her wine. The fire blazed, warming the room. The crackle and pop created a nice background, almost a sort of music, to the wintery night. Her body relaxed as she watched the dancing flames.
"You're not tired yet?" He asked, amused. Nixon stood in the doorway into the living room, sipping at more whiskey.
Alice shrugged. "I can go upstairs if you want to sleep."
He scoffed at her. "Please. I can stay up for hours."
"All you need is a good drink, huh?" She laughed at him. With a shake of her head, she sighed. "Sleep hadn't been easy for me lately. I need to wear myself out first."
"We could do a Currahee run," he joked.
"Don't even joke about that!" But Alice grinned and shook her head.
Nixon chuckled under his breath. Then, after a long drink, he looked at her again. "I swear you've said more meaningful things in the last half hour than I've ever heard you utter before. Is it possible that Alice Klein is learning to trust people?"
"Don't push your luck."
"Just making an observation."
She hummed. "Maybe I've had more to drink than I should've. My tongue's gotten too loose."
"No, I like this Alice Klein." He shook his head. "Blanche would like you. You two need to meet."
"You talk about her, but you know who you don't talk about?" she said, leaning forward.
"Yeah, who's that?"
"Your wife."
Nixon froze. She saw him play with the ring on his finger. She debated apologizing for the obvious question she'd posed.
"Now who's too observant?" He muttered. He took another drink, quickly. "Kathy. She's from another rich San Francisco socialite family. Her brother went to Yale too, a few years before me." He shrugged. "Match made in heaven."
Alice didn't ask any more questions. Even with the significant amount of alcohol she'd consumed, she didn't want to go down that rabbit hole which obviously made Nixon uncomfortable. Instead, she just took another drink.
"Come on," Nixon said. "You look exhausted. Go to bed."
Alice frowned. She subconsciously played with her wine glass, her thumb passing over the rim repeatedly. Her gaze jumped away from Nixon to outside instead.
"There's the Alice Klein we're all used to. Tight lipped. Mysterious," he tried to joke.
She rolled her eyes and turned back to him. "It's just been a rough week with dreams, ok? Nothing to worry about too much."
"Come on. I tell you what, if you can't sleep, wake me up and we'll get more alcohol. If you can't sleep after getting drunk, then we have a real issue."
Alice chuckled at him. After downing the last bit of her third glass of wine, she got up. She hoped he was right. Hopefully she'd consumed enough to put her to sleep. She could feel her eyelids drooping anyways. Before long, she found herself in Blanche Nixon's room, shutting the door and climbing beneath the sheets. The feel of a real bed soon had her sighing in contentment. The combination of comfort and wine had her asleep in minutes.