A/N: Happy NaNoWriMo! My main project is my Band of Brothers fic Under the Banner, if you'd like to check that out! Updates every Saturday. As for this one, it's fully drafted! 25 chapters in all.
Chapter Eighteen
March 15, 1946
Another day, another night in the spotlight. Though Alice had to admit that the sheer number of fancy dresses and makeup she got to buy these days made the transition to socialite easier. Lewis took her arm as they moved towards the massive estate that Stanhope had chosen for that night's get together. Something about trying to build connections with a few of New York's more high society families. Lewis had mentioned that Nixon Nitration Works' profits had taken a small downward turn, and Stanhope wanted to stop that.
"Think your father will be in a good mood tonight?" Alice asked. She glanced left at him as they approached the door. "Or will he be as horrible as ever?"
"Beware the Ides of March," Lewis teased.
Alice couldn't help but grin at his joke as they passed through the door. Beware the Ides of March, indeed. The only thing predictable about Stanhope Nixon was how unpredictable he could be in the most negative ways possible. But Dick would be there, and Ruth as well, though she was helping with organization and running the thing. Marjorie had been left off the list again, something that Alice couldn't help but get worked up about. Lewis had done what he could. He'd tried to get her on the list, tried to work with Ruth to see how to fit her in. But both Marjorie Williams and Leah Nakahara had been tasked with early morning shifts and dismissed.
"Dick better be here already." Lewis took the coat off Alice's back as they stood in the entrance of the grand estate. A worker took it and his own from the foyer. As soon as his father's friends spotted him, though, Lewis flipped on his practiced nonchalance. "Thurston! You're looking well. The wife finally stop hounding you about needing to put on weight?"
Alice held her hands behind her back. The man in question, Thurston Tennison, tall and skinny and going bald, shuffled over. He grimaced. "Mildred never shuts up, Lewis." After they clasped hands, he turned to her. "Mrs. Nixon, how are you?"
She smiled. "I'm well, thank you. How's your back?"
He grimaced again, but shrugged. "Better. Still giving me trouble when I bend too much."
"I hope it improves."
"Lewis! Thurston!"
At the call from further in the estate, all of them turned. Stanhope Nixon. He locked eyes with Alice briefly, and she did her best not to glare back. Thurston shouted back that they were coming and laughed, but Lewis just turned to her.
"Go," she muttered, then she smirked. "He misses you."
"And you don't?" he asked.
Alice just chuckled. "I get you every night."
As they stood in the center of the entranceway, the estate looking straight out of some Victorian novel, Lewis grinned. He leaned down to her and whispered to her. He had a plan, as Stanhope stood down the hall glaring at them. Standing on her toes, she kissed him. He deepened it, placing a hand on her back and pulling her closer. She couldn't help but grin as they pulled apart.
"That should piss him off," Lewis whispered.
Alice kissed him one more time. "Go."
She watched as he turned away. Stanhope stood with Thurston at the end of the foyer, the latter grinning much more than Stanhope himself. He looked like a predator there, staring at her with a blazing anger. Alice just shut her mouth and turned away to look for anyone she knew.
A few wives of the older businessmen had gathered in the front room to her left. She recognized only two. They never quite approved of her. She'd heard from Ruth that most of the older women spoke of her as a Parisian "free spirit." According to Ruth, that meant whore to them. They were cordial to speak to, but never friendly.
It was times like these that Alice missed Easy Company most. She didn't doubt Lewis would include her soon enough, but until then, she was lonely in the house filled with socialites. They were a high society, too high for her to reach. She could wear the clothes and the jewelry and marry into the family, but she was never one of them. Alice had made her peace with that not long after coming to that realization, but the loneliness stung, especially when she remembered what it was like to be surrounded by men who would die for each other.
That was a friendship Alice knew she'd never replicate. That was a bond that formed only in war. Perhaps the only good thing to come of the horror they'd endured. She may not have particularly liked every soldier she'd worked with, but she'd known they would die for her, and she for them. The socialite politics was the other end of that spectrum.
She moved further in, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter with a small thank you. The bubbly alcohol soothed her nerves a bit. She still hadn't seen Ruth. She hadn't seen Dick either. So she kept walking until she found herself outside in the chilly gardens.
The night wore on, soon everyone moving indoors as the sun disappeared. Small plates of food were handed out. Men and women lounged on couches and at tables, socializing more than dining. Alice found Lewis and Dick not long after. She also caught a glimpse of Ruth's red hair as she sped back and forth, making sure everything stayed on track.
"You look nice," Dick told her.
Alice smiled back at him. "Thank you."
"My dad wants us to stay a bit after, help organize the cleanup," Lewis told them. He took a drink from his shot glass and gestured to a few of the groups nearby as the three of them lingered near a fireplace. "This should wrap up in an hour or so."
"Good," Dick muttered.
"Not having fun?" Alice couldn't help but smile at bit as his distress. "Don't feel like you fit in here, Dick? Even after all that time with the Brass?"
Dick shook his head. "This is worse. The Army I understood. This is all..."
"Posturing?" Lewis chuckled. "Yeah. That's the game, Dick. Pieces on a chessboard. You flirt with the young ladies, you down a few drinks, you make friends with the men."
Alice hummed in agreement as she took a drink of her third champagne glass of the night. "How's that girl you talk about? Ethel?"
Dick straightened up. But Alice didn't miss the smile that cracked his perpetual frown that night. "She's good. We're having dinner again tomorrow."
"Aw, Dick's got a date," Lewis teased. "Should we drop in? I want to see this."
Alice shoved him with her shoulder. "Be nice." But then she turned back to Dick and smiled. "When and where? What! I'm curious."
"I'm not telling either of you!"
Lewis and Alice both broke down into laughter at his insistence. It didn't take much longer before they had to mingle with other people again. Alice stayed with them, enjoying being on her husband's arm instead of lingering on the walls. If she had to be in the spotlight, an inevitability that came with being a Nixon, she would do it with Lewis Nixon III at her side.
She met a few of New York's debutantes that night who seemed kind enough, though a few were a bit too consumed in their own lives for her taste. Alice preferred them to the wives of the Nixon Nitration Works businessmen though. And so by the time the night came to a close, and the party broke up, she decided it was a successful evening as much as it could be.
As Alice wandered through one of the rooms, turning off lights and making sure the waiters had cleaned the glasses up, she just took a deep breath. The music had stopped, the chorus of conversations had died. Her eyes wanted nothing more than to close for a good eight hours. It was almost time. Almost time.
"Doing the work of the maids?"
Alice turned around. Stanhope had wandered in, a flask in his hand that reminded her far too much of Lewis'. His footsteps were uneven, body swaying. Thoroughly drunk, then. She stiffened. "Excuse me, I should go."
"No one goes nowhere without me telling them they can," he sneered. He stepped in front of her. "Calm down."
No. Not again. Alice felt chills shoot down her spine. Another drunk man, another isolated room. She could feel herself shaking. She had to get out. But her voice wouldn't work as Stanhope took another step towards her.
"At least Lewis brought hope a pretty one," he slurred. "Bit too feisty, though."
"Get away from me," she hissed.
Stanhope laughed, only once and without humor. His shadow seemed to grow. Pushing past him, Alice tried to get back into the foyer. She wouldn't go through this again. Not again—
A hand grabbed her wrist. Cold hands. Hands on her hips and against a bar wall. In a ship's corridor. Hands everywhere. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.
"Let go of her."
The hands released her. Alice moved back, grabbing her wrist and pulling it towards her chest. Dick stood in front of her, blocking Stanhope from getting near her. She trembled. Not again.
"Get out of the way," he sneered.
But Dick didn't move. "No."
"Get the fuck out of the way, boy."
Stanhope reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pistol. The air left the room as he pointed it straight at Dick. In such close quarters, even shaky as he was with all the alcohol, Stanhope could kill him. Alice remembered another gun pointed at another head. She couldn't breathe again. Not again. Instead of Dick it was Marc, instead of Stanhope it was a Nazi.
"Jesus Christ! Put down the gun!"
Alice glanced left as Lewis came into the room. He stared at the scene in shock. Stanhope had never gone this far, never threatened her or Dick. He moved to stand in front of her as well. Ruth followed him.
"Alice, come now. Let's go," she whispered. Even as Alice flinched at the hand placed on her arm, she didn't let go. "Let's get a drink, yeah?"
She allowed herself to be led out. Lewis and Dick were arguing with Stanhope as they removed themselves, but she blocked it out. She half listened as Ruth brought out her coat and a glass of wine.
She didn't know how long it took before Lewis and Dick joined them outside. But when they did, Ruth stopped rambling to her and turned to back to them.
"I could stab him in the eye with a fecking fork," Ruth snapped. "He tried that with Annie Knox a few months ago, you know. Lucky her husband was in the room over."
Lewis looked at Alice. "Are you okay?"
"I think so," she told him. Then she looked at Dick. "Don't ever do that again!"
"What?"
They all stared at her like she had grown another head. But Alice gritted her teeth against tears. She didn't want to cry. Not again. Not this time.
"I already saw Marc die that way. I will not see it again," she insisted. Her throat clenched, each word painful to get out. "So don't."
No one spoke. She could almost feel Ruth's curiosity at her side, but the woman stayed as quiet as the two men. The silence only broke when a car pulled up, headlights casting long shadows from everything they lit up.
"That's my ride," Ruth told them. She glanced up at Dick and then Lewis. Then she turned to Alice. "Get some sleep."
"You too," Alice told her.
With a final nod and smile, Ruth sqeeze her arm and then hurried to her ride. Soon it was just the three of them. With Ruth gone, Dick spoke up.
"I get to choose who I step in front of a gun for," he told her. "That's not on you, Alice. And it's not for you to decide."
"We've all stepped in front of guns for each other." Lewis looked at her. All the usual humor from his expression was gone. "We're not going to just let some jackass grab you, for Christ's sake."
Alice looked at them. What they said made some sense, but so did the guilt that had followed her for half a decade. She didn't want another death on her heart. Not now. Not after leaving the war.
But she just nodded. With the matter seemingly settled, they moved down the long paved driveway to where they'd parked their cars. Thankfully out here in the countryside, with darkness all around them, lamps guided their way. They drove back the shadows.
"Did you two get the letter from Bill Guarnere?" Dick asked.
Alice grinned. She turned to him as they walked. "Yes. You're going, right?"
"I think I can clear my schedule," he joked. "Indianapolis, right?"
"That's the spot!"
Lewis laughed. "Can't wait to see the look on everyone's faces when we walk up married."
"You mean you two haven't told people?" Dick looked at them in surprise. As they stopped in front of his car, he just laughed. "Good grief."
"Good night, Dick," Alice teased.
She and Lewis both laughed as he got into the car rolling his eyes. Theirs wasn't much farther down the road. Neither said anything, not until they sat inside and started to warm up.
"Any more parties we go to, you stick with me," Lewis finally said. As he started down the road, anger bristling off him again, he just frowned. "Please."
"Don't have to ask me twice."