Evelyn groaned as sunlight streamed through the open curtains. The sofa she had slept on all night had been far from comfortable and her back was aching in places she didn't even know could ache. No wonder her dad always grumbled about it when her mom threw him out of the bedroom after an argument. Maybe bad backs and marriage just went hand in hand?
The small living room was devoid of any other bodies and she wondered just how late she had slept in. Sitting up, she stretched her arms above her head, groaning again when her back clicked and the aches eased a little, and yawned. She still felt tired, which was absolutely ridiculous, and she was beginning to think that perhaps there was some truth in what her mom used to say about too much sleep being bad for a person. As a teenager she had thought that was just an excuse to get her up early at the weekends but perhaps there wasn't a ploy after all. Or maybe she was still tired because despite the first night in months of no nightmares, the lingering oppression and pain of that horrible place lingered inside of her.
"Morning, sleeping beauty."
Evelyn couldn't even be bothered to force a polite smile on her face when George appeared in the doorway. She just sighed and took the rubber band off of her wrist to try and tame her messy hair into a bun. Running her fingers through the tangled knots in her hair made her eyes prick with tears when she thought about some of the women in the female camp the day before; the way they had stroked her hair and eyed it with such sadness and longing. It had been one of the things that shocked her the most about the whole place; hundreds upon hundreds of women with shaved and shorn hair. Perhaps of all the atrocities those poor people had gone through in the past few years, having their hair shaved wasn't the worst but Evelyn knew that for most women their hair was the thing that made them feel like themselves; pretty and feminine. To have that taken away was degrading; a physical reminder, along with their tattooed numbers and striped uniforms, of the fact that for so long they were seen as nothing.
Sitting down beside Evelyn, George set a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage on her lap and she felt herself baulk when the smell drifted up her nostrils. Shaking her head, she gave it back to him. There was no way she could eat. How could she when all she could see was skeletal and diseased bodies in her mind?
"You gotta eat, sweetheart," George murmured, sliding the plate back towards her and holding out a cup of steaming hot coffee. "You missed dinner last because you were still at the camp."
"I aint hungry, Georgie," she took a tentative sip of the coffee but set the plate of eggs down on the floor beside her boots. "But thank you for thinking of me."
"So uh, Bull told me you and Joe had a bit of a falling out last night," George picked up the plate and stabbed at the eggs before forking some into his mouth. No point in perfectly good eggs going to waste.
"We didn't have a fall out. Joe was just upset, and understandably, so he wanted to be alone. And well, you know me, I couldn't just take it for what it was, I had to make it all about myself by taking it personally and getting upset about it," Evelyn muttered. "I just… I know he's hurting and I wish I could take it all away from him, you know? I feel like if our roles were reversed he'd know how to help me."
"I think you're wrong about this," George wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. "What happened yesterday, that place, it was… I don't think living hell would even be a bad enough description. It was worse than anything any of us could ever imagine existing and we're all gonna have to live with what we saw there for the rest of our lives. It's worse for Lieb in many ways because they're his people, but if it had been you in his position then I can absolutely guarantee he wouldn't know how to help you. You gotta just let him deal with this in whatever way he needs to and you gotta know that nothing he says is personal against you."
"Bull said pretty much the same thing."
"Well, we are the smartest guys in the entire 101st," George smirked. "Seriously Ev, emotions are high right now for everyone and we all take things out on those we love the most. And you're the one he loves so…"
"So I'm the one who gets to put up with his moods," she finished. "I know, and you know something, George? I'll put up with it willingly if it helps him deal with this somehow."
"You're a good egg," George smiled, scoffing another forkful of eggs. "See what I did there? Egg?"
"Idiot," Evelyn grinned, lifting her head to kiss his cheek. "My favourite idiot."
"You know it, Ev," George winked.
"Am I disturbing anything?"
"Joe," Evelyn stood, her feet moving hurriedly until she was in front of him. She stopped before she flung her arms around him and cuddled him like she wanted to because she wasn't sure it was what he wanted. "We were just eating breakfast. Well, George was."
"I offered it to her first," George said, standing up with his plate and heading to the door. "Your wife didn't wanna eat for the first time in her life. Should probably write it on a calendar or something 'cause I doubt it'll ever happen again."
"Probably not," Joe agreed, looking at Evelyn with an unreadable expression.
"Anyhoo, I'll be off," George decided. "Not wound Doc up yet this morning so I better get to it. See you guys later."
Evelyn waited until she heard George leave before she opened her mouth to speak., but Joe held up a hand to quiet her and motioned for her to sit with him on the sofa. Throwing her blanket over the arm of the couch, she sat hesitantly, trying to keep just enough distance from Joe that he didn't think she was suffocating him while remaining close enough for him to know she wasn't upset with him from the previous night.
"How'd you sleep?" Joe asked, picking at a loose thread on his trousers.
"Weirdly well," she admitted truthfully. "I thought I would have been plagued with nightmares of the cam… of that place, but it's like my mind refused to acknowledge it. Did you get any sleep?"
"Some," he shrugged. "None."
"Joe, I'm sorry about yesterday. I should have been more understanding and I should have-"
"I'm the one who's sorry," Joe shook his head and ran a hand through his hair wearily. "I pushed you away when you were just trying to be there for me, and it was wrong. I just… I hurt, Ev. I hurt so fucking much."
Evelyn bit her trembling lip when Joe's voice cracked and he didn't even attempt to stop the tears that began to roll down his cheeks. Shifting up closer to him on the sofa, she reached for his hand, afraid to overwhelm him with too much physical contact. But when his hand clutched her tightly, she sighed in relief and lifted her other hand to wipe the tears from his face.
"I lay there all night last night just thinking about it all; those poor fucking people and what they lived through; the stories they told me from before they even got put in that fucking god awful place. The years and months they spent living like they were less than even second class citizens under Nazi rule and then one day they all got put on a train and sent to those places. Ev, I can't even repeat some of the things they told me that happened to them; things that are even worse than what we saw there if you can even believe that. I just… that could have been us, you know; my family and me. One of the men in that camp told me about how he watched his baby being thrown against a…" he let out a shaky breath and brought his trembling hand to his face as agony washed over him and he was unable to finish his sentence. Not that Evelyn really wanted him to. She had enough of an idea and it made her feel sick. "All I can think about is my sister's baby, little Miriam. That could have been her. And I know, I know, it's not but it's not the point, Ev. The point is that baby and all of the other babies and children and adults who lost their lives or somehow survived this whole fucking thing didn't deserve it. Not one of them.
I told you about all the times growing up when I got into fights because of idiots making comments about me being a Jew. Someone once painted a star of David on our living room window and my mom cried for weeks, and sometimes our neighbours' windows would get put through and shit like that. But this… what's been happening here for years while we were all ignorant to it, is on a whole other level. It's incomprehensible and it's unbelievable, only it's completely believable because I've seen it with my own two eyes, just like you have.
How do I move on from this, Ev? How do any of us move on from this? How do we carry on living the rest of our lives and pretending that this never happened?"
"We don't," Evelyn whispered, cupping his cheek. "We don't forget this ever happened. We must never forget that this happened, Joe. We owe all of those people that. We have to go home and we have to make sure that we use what has happened here to make sure something like this never happens again. We talk about what happened here to open people's eyes to the poison that comes from hating other people because of their religion or their race."
"And you think that'll really happen? You really think people will suddenly change their ways because of something that has happened halfway across the world."
"I don't know," Evelyn answered honestly. "I really don't know, but we have to try. And if we can somehow turn the mindset of even one person and that one person can turn the mindset of another person then it's worth trying, right? We can't change what has happened here, Joe, and believe me when I say I have never wished to be able to change the past more in all my life. But we'll make sure that we honour every single one of them by fighting for what's right every single day of our lives. Because that's all we can do."
"What if it's not enough, Ev?" Liebgott pressed his forehead against hers. "What if it's not enough to make this stop hurting?"
"It might not be," she murmured. "In fact, it probably won't be. But we have to try, Joe."
"I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion.
"And I love you. I love you so much and you'll get through this somehow. We all will."
Ev's lips pressed against Joe's gently, a kiss of comfort and of love, but Joe wanted, needed, more. He needed to feel something that wasn't the ache in his heart. Pulling Evelyn onto his lap so that she was straddling him, he ignored her confused frown and grabbed her by the rear so that he could grind into his hardening length.
"Joe," she tore her mouth from his, and bit back a moan when his hands cupped her breasts through her uniform. "Joe, what are you doing?"
"I'd have thought that was fairly obvious," he chuckled, but Evelyn wasn't stupid; she knew it was only a front. His eyes were lacklustre and his chuckle had been dry.
"Joe, I know you're hurting but this won't make that stop," she stroked his cheek and eyed him sadly.
"I know that," he admitted, swallowing down another lump in his throat. He closed his eyes and Evelyn could see him fighting to stop his bottom lip trembling. His hand held hers over his face and he turned his face to kiss her palm before opening his eyes again. "I just need to hold you and feel something that isn't what I'm feeling inside. I need to have some sort of escape from this if even for a short while."
Nodding, Evelyn pressed her lips to Joe's and when he began to unfasten the buttons of her shirt she didn't stop him. And later on as they lay cuddled up on the sofa, she kissed the top of his head which lay cradled on her chest and she cried silently. No matter how much they tried to forget what they had seen and no matter how much they tried to escape it, Landsberg and its horrors would stay with them all forever.
… … …
The clinking of bottles made Evelyn look up from the inventory she was writing up. She was alone in the aid station, stuck in her own thoughts about the camp and about Joe. When she had left him just before noon, his spirits seemed to have been lifted a little but she could tell it was a front. It hurt her to see him so broken over all of this, but how could he be anything other? Rolling her eyes in annoyance when she heard bottles clinking again and then something fall onto the ground, she headed towards the supply cupboard expecting to see Frank searching for another bottle of castor oil so that he could ease his blocked bowels again, and she was fully prepared to berate him for it. Only when she pushed open the door, she was greeted by a dark haired intelligence officer wearing a very miserable scowl.
"Captain Nixon," she frowned. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Looking for something," he muttered, shifting bottles of ethanol and castor oil and plasma out of the way. When he found nothing he wanted behind them, he began to rifle around boxes of bandages and dressings.
"Care to explain what exactly?"
"Not really."
"I wasn't actually really asking, Sir."
Nixon paused for a minute, looking at Evelyn over his shoulder and smirking. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't help but find amusement in that snippy Guarnere manner she had.
"Vat 69," he answered.
"Think you're out of luck here then," Evelyn commented. "The only alcohol we have is the cleaning and disinfecting kind, and trust me if you drink any of that you'll be very very sick."
"He always hides somewhere I least expect."
"Who always hides what?"
"Dick. Major Winters," Nixon eyeballed her. "He always hides some Vat 69 where I'll never find it."
"Right."
Evelyn wasn't convinced that there was going to be any in here but Nixon was clearly all worked up and she didn't want to aggravate him further. She decided she may as well help him and keep some kind of order in here, rather than have herself be blamed for messing the store room up when she was relieved from her shift in a couple of hours. If Nixon was annoyed with her interfering, he didn't say anything. In fact, he was completely focussed on his search.
Evelyn's eyes fell upon a box of supplies that was coming with Easy when they moved out again the next day, and she grinned when she rifled through it and heard the unmistakable clink of something that most definitely wasn't medical supplies. With a shake of her head, she pulled out the bottle of Vat 69 and held it out to Nixon with a chuckle.
"Major Winters really is full of surprises."
"And you don't know the half of it," Nixon muttered, pulling out the cork and taking a long swig. He let out a sigh and leaned his head back against one of the shelves, closing his eyes as the alcohol coursed through his system and began to calm him immediately.
"Um, are you alright, Sir?"
"Oh yeah, peachy. Just wonderful. I couldn't be any more alright if I was on a tropical beach with Marlene Dietrich rubbing sun lotion all over my back."
"I, uh, I heard about your wife," Evelyn said hesitantly. "I'm really sorry."
"Good news travels fast in this company, huh? Bet my demotion's been the talk of the town as well. Bunch of gossiping old women, the lot of you," he grumbled.
"Nobody's been gossiping," she reassured him. "Everyone's just worried about you. The men care about you, Sir. I care about you, too."
"Well your concern is unnecessary 'cause I'm fine."
"You seem it," Evelyn muttered sarcastically. "Seriously, I really am sorry about your wife."
"Me too," Nixon scoffed. "I'm sorry that I married such a selfish, stuck up piece of work. I never really loved her, you know. She was pretty and a little reckless compared to the other girls in my family's society circle, but it was all an act. The second she married me and got herself up the duff with that kid, she changed. You wanna hear something funny, Evelyn? I'm not upset she's leaving me. I'm not upset that she's even taking the house because I hate that stuffy place anyway; it's not a house, it's a god damn museum. I'm not even upset she's taking my kid because I barely know him and I was never father material to begin with. No, the only thing I'm actually upset about is the fact that she's taking my fucking dog. Can you believe that? The dog is all I care about. What kind of man am I?"
"You can't help how you feel," Evelyn answered.
"You mean I can't help being an unfeeling bastard," Nix huffed out a laugh. "Oh Evelyn, do you ever just wish you were born a different person? No, of course you don't. Why would you? You're a good person from a good family and you've got everything going for you when we're done with this crap."
"So have you, Sir," she sighed, watching as he downed almost a third of the bottle without stopping. "You're handsome and you're funny and you're a good man. You might not think it but you are."
"I'm not," he murmured. "If I was a good man I wouldn't be standing here with you complaining about my trivial problems when we saw what we did yesterday, because compared to those poor people my problems are nothing."
"Someone told me once that life isn't a competition about whose problems are worse than anyone else's," Evelyn told him. "And yeah, ok, you're right; none of us have had or ever will have it as bad as those people. We will never truly understand what they've been through and what they've lived through, but that doesn't mean that our own problems can't hurt us. If you're hurting, Sir, then you're allowed to hurt and no one can tell you you're being silly or that you're wrong."
"You know, Ev, I think marriage suits you," Nixon smirked. "It's certainly made you wiser, that's for sure."
"Hey now don't be tellin' that to anyone else, especially not Joe," she grinned. "He'll be taking all of the credit for this new found wisdom of mine."
Nixon chuckled at that and then sighed.
"Colonel Sink said the Russians liberated a camp a lot worse than the one we found," he murmured. "Can you believe that? Apparently they had ovens for burning the… prisoners."
"Oh god," Evelyn whispered in horror, not even realising tears were falling from her eyes.
"There's no fucking God who would allow that to happen," Nixon scoffed bitterly. "What a fucking mess, Evelyn. All of it. Just when we think we've seen the worst of war, something else comes along to surprise us. And you know what people are doing back home? Dancing and going to clubs and acting like the war is over. It might be almost done but we're no closer to getting home and we're no closer to the end of all the death and the misery." He straightened himself up and cleared his throat, gripping his bottle and heading for the door. "And on that cheery note, I'm off to go and dampen someone else's mood. Not that it'll be hard around here I'm sure. See you later, Ev."
She watched Nixon leave without his usual jaunty swagger and she felt sad for him. He was as human as the rest of them but clearly things were getting on top of him. His divorce, his demotion, the camp, it was all piling up on top of him and he was either going to collapse under it all or somehow fight his way out of it. Evelyn really hoped it was the latter. Perhaps it might be an idea to have a word with Major Winters. But then again was it really her place? Chewing her lip, she decided that she'd have a talk with Eugene and see what he thought before she did anything else. For now though, she'd have to put Lewis Nixon to the back of her mind and add him to her own ever growing pile of worries.
… … …
"What do you reckon Bill's doing right now?"
"Probably eating a disgusting amount of food."
Babe chuckled and handed Evelyn the bottle of wine he had found. Night had fallen and the two of them were enjoying a drink in honour of the fact that it was Bill's birthday. Evelyn felt terrible because she had almost forgotten, and it wasn't until just after dinner time that she suddenly realised what the date was. She wished she could see him or phone; just tell him she loved him and missed him and she hoped he was enjoying his day. But all she could do was sit with Babe and reminisce about Philly and about Bill instead. The end of the war felt so close; so tangible, yet home had never felt so far away at the same time.
"We never really did birthday parties growing up; I mean, I don't know anyone who did to be honest. But Marcie Zimmerman's birthday is the week before mine and she had a massive birthday party that she invited everyone to one year. Everyone apart from me of course," Evelyn rolled her eyes, and Babe couldn't help but chuckle at Evelyn's hatred for the girl. "I remember sitting in my bedroom the day of the party crying my eyes out and it wasn't even that I was upset about Marcie not inviting me. It was the fact that I'd only ever been to one birthday party before and I was heartbroken to be missing out on another. I think I was around nine or ten, and at that point in time Bill had already gotten himself a job delivering newspapers and collecting glass bottles from all the neigbours, and after giving my mom some of his wages every week he kept the rest because he was saving up for a radio of his own one day.
Anyway, I eventually got over my upset with the party but Bill knew that it had really upset me. So, the day of my birthday comes and when I woke up in the morning, I hurried downstairs excited to eat my birthday pancakes and open my present. I'd asked my mom for a new dress and some colouring pencils because mine had all worn down to nothing. When I got into the kitchen, the whole room was decorated with pink ribbons and paper chains everywhere and it looked so pretty. I opened up my present and as well as my dress and colouring pencils, I also got two bars of chocolate all for myself. But that wasn't everything. Bill ushered me into the backyard, making sure to cover my eyes, and after I'd almost tripped over and broke my neck he told me to open them. I remember being so confused when I saw this shiny almost new red bike leaning up against the garden shed and when I looked at Bill he just grinned. He'd felt so bad for me when I was upset about the party that he had wanted to do something to make my birthday special. So, he'd taken his savings out of his jar and headed on down to Mr Harris; you know the old guy who used to sell anything and everything. The bike only had a couple of tiny scratches on it and the wheels barely had a mark on. It was amazing and so much better than a party.
At the time, I remember thinking that I had the kindest brother who would do something like that for me, but I didn't realise until I got older just how truly selfless it was. He would always do anything to make me happy when we were kids. I mean, sure he loved to wind me up and pick on me but he also would do so many things to make me smile. I can't imagine he'll be wanting to make me smile when we get home and he finds out I married Joe. In fact, I'm fairly certain he'll only be making me do is cry."
"You don't know that," Babe disagreed. "You know, with what happened to him in Bastogne I have a feeling it might have put a lot of things into perspective for him. Sure, he might moan a little and he might even pretend to sulk but the truth is that he's gonna be so happy to see you alive and well that he won't care that you married Liebgott."
"Maybe," Evelyn grinned. "Perhaps I won't bother coming back to Philly. I'll just write to him from Frisco and then I don't have to deal with him in person."
"Frisco?" Babe frowned incredulously. "What the hell will you be doing in San Francisco?"
"Well, I can't say that's where we're going for certain but Joe already has a job back at his cab company and he has his own apartment so it just makes sense for us to live there."
"You don't wanna live in Philly?"
"Of course I do," she sighed. "But if Joe comes to Philly he's gotta find a new job and I don't think that'll be easy when you think of how many of us will be returning from the war all at the same time. San Francisco just makes more sense, at least at first anyway. Who knows maybe once we've saved up some money and stuff we might move back to Philly."
"Yeah, I guess," Babe answered glumly. "It's just… I guess it'll be weird not seeing you as much. I figured when we got back home it'd be me, you, Bill and Spina tearing up the mean streets of South Philly."
"You'll be too busy finding yourself a girlfriend to worry about any of that," Evelyn nudged him playfully. "And I'm sure Bill'll keep you busy drinking every chance he gets."
She smiled when Babe's mood improved slightly, but inside she realised that she was already homesick at the idea of living in San Francisco. She stuck by her reasoning for guessing that that was where they would settle down at first, but she just… she missed home so much and she missed her family even more. How could she come back to the States after so long away only to pack up her life again and move to the other side of the country?
"You alright?" Babe questioned, frowning in concern. "You've gone quiet."
"I'm fine," she lied. "I'm tired though so I think I'm gonna hit the hay. We're moving out again in the morning so we could both use some shut eye."
… … …
Joe and the others were already asleep when Evelyn found her way back to their room, and as she climbed into the tiny single bed beside her husband she couldn't let go of the dread gnawing at her stomach. She loved Joe but she also loved her family and didn't want to be separated from them again. There were so many unanswered questions rolling around her head and when Joe reached for her in his sleep, pulling her flush against his chest and nuzzling his face into her neck, she sighed.
Why could nothing in this life ever just be simple?
