Emily - June - July 1944
The men of the 101st made good use of their leave. As soon as they made it back to London Easy Company dispersed into little groups traveling to London, Scotland, Wales, even Ireland. Winters wanted to use his time back in England to reflect and to prepare for what still lay ahead of them. Normandy had only been the tip of the iceberg. The fates had much more in store for them. Nixon decided he should finally pay his family friends in Oxfordshire a visit, but he promised to link up with Emily in London for the weekend.
Emily was spending her free time in London with Buck Compton, George Luz, Frank Perconte, Joe Toye, the mortar squad, and who knows who else from Easy Company. She had been a last minute addition to their crew, but Luz reassured her that she was not intruding when he had extended the invite - as long as she was okay with a little debauchery. Emily in turn reassured George that she didn't mind a little hedonism, and if it became too much she would excuse herself to the hotel room she had rented. She was still a lady after all.
It was Emily's first time in London. She enjoyed exploring the distinctive streets and neighborhoods despite all the rubble. It broke her heart to see homes reduced to piles of concrete. But the British persevered; they dutifully made their way to work, bickered in food lines, and gossiped on corners. However, she had to admit she didn't enjoy the attention she got in her uniform. She knew the looks and compliments were all well meant, but she felt like a target and couldn't help but blush at the attention.
Unfortunately, there was no avoiding it. Emily had only packed one civilian dress; an evening dress in case they went out somewhere special. But so far, she and the men had only attended pubs and bars. The closest thing she had gotten to a glamorous night out was when they passed through Piccadilly Circus. Emily had quickly realized the men's intentions in that neighborhood and promptly called a cab back to her hotel.
While the men spent their days drinking in central London, Emily walked rings around the parks and visited the museums which were tragically neglected. She would join the men for a fish and chips dinner and then they would all escape to a bar or two in the evening.
Emily didn't have to pay for a drink the entire time she was in the city. If one of her friends didn't buy her a beer, some soldier from somewhere or a local chap did. There were some benefits to being one of the few women in uniform.
Saturday morning Nixon arrived in the city, much to Emily's relief. She was loving her time with her other friends but was thankful to have someone to spend the daytime with. She led Nixon through Westminster and Hyde Park. He kindly humored her, letting her play tour guide even though he had been to London on more than one occasion before the war.
"Congratulations on the promotion by the way," Emily said as they strolled languorously around Kensington gardens.
"Oh, thank you."
"You're officially a Captain now," Emily smiled mischievously at him.
"Oh don't get started on that now," Nixon grumbled.
"Not just my Captain but everyone's Captain! How does it feel?" she teased.
"What're we doing for dinner?" he diverted the conversation.
Emily shrugged, "probably fish and chips."
Nixon raised an eyebrow, "look I haven't got anything against fish and chips, but you do know there are restaurants in London right?
Emily rolled her eyes at him, "I do, yes, but I'm on a budget, sort of. Plus chips is easy before going out!"
"Come on, you have to have at least one nice meal. It'll be my treat."
"No Lew, I can pay for it myself."
"Fine," Nixon knew how to pick his arguments with her, "as long as I get to pick the place." Before Emily could protest he added, "I promise it won't be too expensive. But dress nice. I hope you brought something more suitable," he surveyed her beige pencil skirt and utilitarian black pumps.
"I did, don't worry," Emily said.
"Good. Let's plan on 7 o'clock? Then we can join your buddies later on."
"Fine!"
The restaurant was in the West End. Nixon met her in front of her hotel at 6:30 so that they could walk together. Emily wore her red dress, paired with red bow darling heels that she knew made her legs look extra long. Only when she saw Nixon's appreciative smile did she remember that this was the dress he Nixon favored.
"Ah, the infamous red dress," his mouth crooked to the side. "Fantastic choice."
Emily blushed, "it's the only one I brought."
"Did it take you forever to decide which to bring?" Nixon extended his arm for her to take, "if i were you, I don't know how I would've decided between the two dresses you own!"
Emily smacked him gently with her clutch, "they're not the only two dresses I own. I have plenty back home! But they weren't essential."
"Non-essential one might say?" Nixon teased and Emily giggled.
The restaurant was a refreshing change from fish and chips. Sitting there with Nixon, Emily felt as if she were in a dream. Surely this couldn't be her reality? She had arrived in England in engaged, limited in experience and opportunity, desperate for a chance to prove herself. And here she was, single, sharing an upscale meal with a man she had no intention of marrying - who was married - with her future open to pursue a career. Emily felt the familiar sensation of guilt return to her; she should not be this happy in a world like this. But she couldn't help it.
"What're you thinking about?" Nixon stabbed the last piece of meat on his plate with his fork.
"I just- I sort of feel guilty."
Nixon stared blankly at her, chewing. Emily continued, "we are in a war. People's homes are destroyed in this very city, people are going hungry, and we have seen men die. And we will see more men die before all of this is over!" she kept her voice hushed.
Nixon nodded thoughtfully. He took a sip of his wine before speaking, "look, Em, you're right." Emily's brow furrowed. "This," Nixon gestured over their table, "is not normal these days. It's gluttonous. We are gluttons." The guilt sank deeper in Emily's stomach. "But," Nixon held up his fork, "we are allowed to enjoy it. Its happening, we are eating this delicious food, we may as well enjoy it. We should accept any moment of joy we can get from here on out. Who knows, probably only going to get worse."
He sounded so candid about it all. Emily tried to find reassurance in his words but her Catholic guilt was strong. There was truth in what he said. She was going to eat her chicken and drink her wine whether she was happy or unhappy about it. She may as well enjoy it because who knows when she might get another chance to do so.
Later in the evening, Emily and Nixon met George Luz and Joe Toye at a pub near the Tower of London. Luz was animatedly entertaining the crowd while Toye sat at a table chatting with Don Malarkey and Skip Muck. Toye's brow was furrowed and Emily overheard the word 'replacements' right as Nixon sat down beside her. He offered her one of the beers he was carrying.
"Thanks," she said taking it, "what's this about replacements?"
Nixon gave a look of distaste, "gotta re-fill the ranks. New paratroopers will be joining us when we get back to Aldborne."
"Ah," it dawned on Emily the reason for the lean companies.
"Yep," Nixon took a sip of his beer. Emily fell into deep thought as she nursed her beer. Her head was swimming slightly from all the wine at dinner so it took her time to sort through what she was thinking.
"Lew," her voice sounded almost childlike when she finally spoke.
"Hm?"
"We really don't know what's going to happen do we?"
"What?"
"Anyone of us really could die at any moment."
"Are you drunk?"
Emily shook her head but that caused her vision to swim, "no, but listen. I think- I think I have feelings for Harry." There, she said it. The words had been verbalized and hung in the air between them so clear she felt she could reach out and touch them.
Nixon sat up straight in his chair and rubbed his palms against his thighs, "oh Em, I don't-,"
"I want to tell him. Because why not? We could all die as soon as we get back to the continent and I should at least tell him. Who care's what he does with the information but at least he'll know," she was practically rambling at this point.
"Oh Emily, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not? You said earlier we should take whatever happiness we can get."
"But I don't think that's going to lead to happiness," Nixon did he best to sound gentle, but it wasn't in his nature.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Harry's engaged Emily."
"I was engaged."
"Yeah but he's going to marry Kitty."
"Look," Emily reasoned, "a lot of time has passed and more time will pass before they see each other again. Who knows what could happen in that time."
"Emily," Nixon's tone was scolding.
"What?" she said defensively.
"That's beneath you."
"You're one to talk," Emily said, "how is Kathy by the way?"
"Lets, let's not bring her into this," Nixon held up a hand to stop her.
"Such a double standard," Emily shook her head and took another drink of beer. Her stomach was beginning to turn. Was it from panic or the alcohol? She was immediately regretting her confession. "At least neither Harry or I are actually married."
"What do you know about marriage?" Nixon's voice was rising, "you couldn't even keep your engagement."
Emily scowled at him, "and you think you know about marriage? Have you written to your wife recently? Tell her you love her?"
Nixon laughed a bitter laugh, "oh come on, you know better than anyone people get married for a multitude of reasons. They're lucky if it's love!"
"So maybe that's the case with Harry-,"
"No, Em, the man carried around a reserve shoot for almost 30 days. He's sending it back to Kitty to make a wedding dress." A knot formed in Emily's stomach. "He's going to marry her," Nixon continued. Emily took a long drink from her beer to keep the tears from forming in her eyes.
"You go on and on about wanting to focus on your career and to be taken seriously," Nixon was moving into hurtful territory, "but you let yourself get distracted so easily by any guy who gives you attention."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"You get distracted by George Luz! Then Harry! And all the drama with your fiance - yet you say you want to be taken seriously." Their voices were raised now to an uncomfortable level. People from the nearby tables were beginning to look over.
"Nixon," Emily growled, "how dare you question my integrity. I am here for my job, same as you."
Nixon didn't even seem to be listening to her, "day one you had eyes for Luz."
"When will you realize your fucked up joke is totally baseless? I never have and never will have feelings for George."
They were arguing so loudly at this point that George caught wind of his name and looked up. Across the crowd he and Joe made eye contact.
"and," Emily said, "how dare you comment on my love life when I know for a fact that you've been having an affair with a woman in Aldborne!"
"That's my business," Nixon retorted. "You don't know the state of my marriage, it's basically dead anyways."
"Exactly! That's your business! Just like my love life is my business!"
"Well if you wanted it to stay your business you shouldn't have opened your mouth about Harry!"
"Is everything okay here?" Joe Toye approached their table a beer in one hand, the other hand fisted up in his pocket.
Emily avoided looking at him so he couldn't see the tears in her eyes, "all good Joe, don't worry."
"You sure?" Joe was eyeing Nixon dangerously now, who returned his gaze fearlessly.
It took all of her composure but Emily wasn't about to let a fight break out. She looked up at Joe and said in a strong voice, "it's okay Joe, I'm okay."
Joe's jaw clenched and unclenched. He gestured over to his table, "I'll be right over here if you need me."
"Actually, I'm gonna get some air." Emily grabbed her purse, half-running to the door.
"Fucking hell," Nixon cursed under his breath. Emily left him alone at the table with his head in his hands.
Emily erupted into the night. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry out of frustration. How fucking dare him. She pressed her body up against the cool stone wall of the pub trying to calm to herself down. She looked up at the starless night sky in an attempt to keep her tears from running down her cheeks. Emily refused to give him the satisfaction of her tears.
A beam of light broke through the night as the pub door opened and closed again. Whoever it was, Emily begged that they continue on their way without noticing her. When she realized it was a single figure turning her way she said, "fuck off, Nixon."
"Not Captain Nixon," George Luz's voice broke through the night.
Emily gasped, a sob nearly over taking her at the sight of him. "George," her voice cracked. She fell into George's comforting arms.
"Hey hey, sh, it's alright." He smelled like smoke and stale alcohol but Emily didn't care, she needed him to hold her up in that moment. "It's okay sweetheart," he murmured. Wrapped in his arms Emily was able to regain some of her strength and finally calm down. But the tears were quickly replaced by red hot fury.
She pushed away from his chest to say, "nobody respects me around here! Lewis Nixon doesn't!"
"Em, I respect you," George said innocently.
Emily smiled bitterly, she knew Luz was being genuine but his words did little to comfort her. "Thank you, George. But I wish my superiors did. Sometimes I think Lewis does, but then he talks to me like that." Emily spat out the last word like it was something bitter she had eaten. "He made it clear tonight that he doesn't take me seriously! I don't know what I have to do to get some god damn respect around here. No matter how good I am at my job I'll always be the woman, a doll."
George stood silently looking at the ground, continuing to rub Emily's back. "He buys me lipstick and comments on my clothes then barely takes a second look at the actual work I do. But he's clever right?" It was a rhetorical question, George only nodded to show he was listening, "and so when he sticks up for me or compliments my work I fall for it like a god damn idiot, thinking he values my contribution. I'm such a fool."
"Hey, no," George interrupted gently.
A sob caught in Emily's throat, "I am George, I'm a god damn joke. I'll only be considered successful if I come home with a husband."
"Em, no, that's not true."
Emily barked out a laugh, "it is, my mother pretty much writes me to say just that. She has no interest in the work I'm doing."
"Well, hasn't she always kinda been like that?" George asked. Emily shrugged in reply. "Look, Em, no one gets to decide your value for you -," Emily opened her mouth to interrupt but George pushed on, "no, I'm serious. Keep your head down, do a good job, and then no one will be able to say anything."
"That's the problem though, George," Emily whined, "if I want to be taken seriously I have to commit everything to my job. If I want to work I can't be romantic. If I fall in love I'll only ever be seen as a wife. Women don't get to be both things; we're either a pathetic, spinster career woman or a baby maker without a brain."
George had no words. Emily shrugged, her eyes filling with frustrated tears again, "it's fine," she said defeated, "that's life I guess."
George pulled her back into another hug and Emily let her tears fall silently into his chest. "I don't want to ruin your night, I'm gonna call a cab and head to bed."
"Do you want me to go back with you?" George's earnest eyes were wide.
"No, I'm okay, just need to get some sleep. Tomorrow's a new day."
"Right, tomorrows a new day. It'll be better. Plus you got us in your corner - me, Joe, Frank. We all think the world of you. You're easily the smartest out of all of us," George grinned his goofy grin, "and easily the best lookin'. Look at that! I can hit on you and still see you as a hard-workin' dame!"
Emily laughed and rubbed at her eyes, "thanks, George."
"Let me hail you a taxi." George stepped into the street. Emily rummaged through her purse looking for a compact or a hanky or both. She must look a mess with makeup everywhere.
Before George could flag down a car Nixon appeared. "Emily?" he asked.
George looked over his shoulder, seeking her direction. She clenched her jaw, "it's okay George, I'll grab my own cab in a moment."
"Alright," George headed back into the pub, nodding awkwardly at Nixon as he passed him.
"Emily, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what exactly?" Emily crossed her arms, determined to stand her ground.
"For getting on you about Harry. I just didn't want you to-,"
"That's not what upset me so much!" Emily said.
"I know I came off a bit harsh," Nixon said.
"Lewis, that's not the point. I can take harsh. What I don't understand is why you don't respect my job."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a joke to you, you still see me as that silly secretary girl you assumed I was."
"That's not true!" Nixon defended.
"Believe it or not, I am capable of being excellent at my job and falling in love at the same time."
"Love," Nixon scoffed, "you're not in love, you have a crush! It's not the same."
"Yeah and what do you know about love, Nixon?" Emily met his gaze fiercely. Her heartbeat suddenly grew loud in her ears as she saw something shift in his eyes.
"I know when it isn't love," he shot back, his dark eyes bore into hers, "and I'm starting to realize when it is."
