Still unhappy about the way its coming out but hell, I have to post it all. My betas are asleep or worse, ignoring me. So here I go again. All feedback is welcome.

And please, if you find some form of compassion in your heart, let me know if you are even remotely enjoying this story and if I am getting the characters right.

Chapter 31

That was interesting!

I was enjoying a marvelous effect on people and was as surprised at that as they were. Part of me wanted this girl not to get hurt but the other, wiser, cynical part firmly told me to let her do as she saw fit and not butt in. For once, I agreed with its assessment and let things be. Frank had all the subtlety of an irked tarantula. Cate would soon come back to senses. Frank did have that sort of predictable effect on people and that never surprised anyone but the most naïve.

I was hungry after all. Not sure if it was a sign of losing it completely or getting better, I decided to go to mess tent and find out.

There was a fine layer of white on everything which was a step up from the olive green that always reminded me of an overflowing biliary fistula. The cold, however, was another story. I had to inventory my cold-weather supplies. That meant a head long dive in the footlocker. I could not believe BJ did not know about the deadly winter here. He seemed like the smart kind of guy, the kind I had never met in real life. The kind that thought of everything in advance and took care of things before they even happened. The kind that never left anything to chance.

Mess tent was full. But I had the same effect as Moses had on the Red Sea. The crowds parted, making way for me. I got some vegetables and some ambiguous looking brown stuff that was part beef part leather. At least thats how it sounded when it hit the tray. Creamed peas. Some bread that could have passed as tree bark. Every compartment was filled with something that was either indiscernible or inedible.

But I was hungry!

I looked around and saw my favorite major sitting alone.

"Move!" I told her as I sat myself at the table. And then appraised her more throughly. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes today. And sore noses...No. That sounds...You cannot be a sight to sore noses..." I was trying to come up with the right adjective before she cut me and saved me the effort.

"Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce in person, as we live and breathe. Howdy stranger! How come you are here? I thought you were having take out today?" She was smiling.

" Ah, the rapier-wit! I was hungry and was sick of the babysitters who force-converse with me to my detest, anguish and desperation, not to mention, at a detriment to my already limited patience. At least, this way, I don't have to look at the tray or the person next to me more frequently than necessary, right? And thats not the only upside" I answered mischievously, mocking her tone while wiggling my eyebrows and looking at her with my most lecherous impersonation.

"I was going to get you something to eat today. Thank you for saving me the trip!"

" To what do I, or is it, was I supposed to, owe the honor?"

"Its your mommy...Sorry! It was BJ. He asked me to make sure you ate. He was in Post-op and was not sure what with your recent tantrums and hissy fits, you would let anyone in your tent or not. So I was the scape goat."

"He has a flair for drama. Comes from living in California. Either that or the weather has frozen what's left of his tiny brain."

"What was the tantrum about?"

"There WAS no tantrum, Margaret. Would you believe me or that putty brain?"

"Of course I believe him. I saw O'Hara here and her eyes were red. And I know only two people who have that effect on my girls. And she came to the second one."

"Frank?"

"You don't seem surprised."

"I am not the first one but I don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure that out. I hate to make women cry. Especially the ones with voluptuous bodies and readily kissa...OW! You broke my ribs!"

"She is young and stupid. And Frank is an old goat. I think you tried to knock some sense into her?"

"For a blond, you sure are smart." I chuckled at her correct assessment. "I could not let Frank take my place as the resident Romeo."

"These days, you are anything BUT a sweetheart."

"Try me! OWWWW. You are taking advantage of my incapacitation and chivalry. I can only feel sorry for..." I moved a little further before continuing, "for Donald."

" You men! You are all the same. Frank, you, Donald. Why can't I find someone like Col. Potter or BJ Hunnicut?"

"Margaret! They are spoken for, remember? And so are you, as I recall. And I take umbrage. You place me at the same level as Frank? If I were not so hungry, I would have walked out at this worst of the worst insults."

"Oh stuff it, Pierce! You maybe better in some ways but in the rest...Frank at least...forget it!" The shift in her mood was not unusual but still, it came somewhat unexpectedly.

"What happened Margaret?" I put my fork down and faced Margaret.

"Nothing. I am due in post-op. I have to go."

"Liar! O'Hara said the same thing. And I know for a fact that your shift CANNOT start before 3PM. So tell me what it is!"

"Why do men use women?" I knew there was no point denying it despite it being a generally wrong statement. She would balk and steam and seethe and hiss for many hours to come, if not days. Maybe I could get this out of her system.

"I don't know."

"See!"

"See what, Margaret?"

"Look at you. Smart, good looking, great sense of humor and a promising career, and yet, uncommitted. Why are you still single? Is it the smart in you that tells you not to get too involved?"

" I have no idea my personal life evoked such interest in you so give me time to think and come up with an appropriate answer. But for the record, I don't do it on purpose. The not getting involved bit. It just happens. I think women are smarter than you give them credit for! They see in me something they don't want to see in their betrothed."

"Then why do you flirt and ...and you know!" She blushed. I had no idea where she was coming from and did not know how to respond to this. My personal life had suddenly become a hot topic in the camp. Something was not right!

"Uhhhh, because!"

"Because?"

"Yeah! Because. Now can we move back to your personal life and leave mine alone?"

"You men!" She started leaving but I held her hand and stopped her.

"Maybe I am not the best person you can talk to. But, just so you know, you can talk to me. Anytime! Any place."

"Like you talked to O'Hara?"

"Maybe." I winked. She smiled.

"Idiot!"

I let her go, hoping she would act smart this time over. Frank was the worst thing she could opt for and she did. I just hoped time and experience improved her judgment. I finished the now cold food which did not taste any better or worse than before. That alone was a huge improvement because according to the canon, the food quickly decomposed once it entered the mess hall. There were eye witness reports of people who saw the lettuce wilt and turn from an ambiguous green to a deep shade of brown while they were standing in the chow line.

Without work and any soft company, the rest of the day was already appearing to be a long, dreadful exercise in boredom.

I remembered a pair of knitting needles and a ball of wool that I made into a perfect ball not so long ago. It was time to knit something and be constructive. A nice sweater for BJ, not the one like cousin Susan knitted me last Christmas. Maybe BJ could use it next winter. I was not going to get finished before that. Or maybe he won't need it next year, being back in Mill Valley and all. But he would need it if he came to see me in Crabapple Cove. Or Augusta?

Before the war, I could never imagine missing the winters. Fall, yes. Alright, a little snow too. But still, it was there every year. I never thought I would be away from it. Of course I never wanted to move South despite some really good job offers in places where winters meant temperatures in the range of 50s and 60s. And real, sandy beaches, not the coastal areas we had. I loved it but did not know I would miss that all so bad.

But now I knew better.