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Not me getting emotional at the entry of Major Marvin “Red” Bowman in the official combat diary of the 100th Bomb Group after Buck and Bucky were shot down…
*
Oct 11, 1943
Capt. Everett E. Blakely appointed Commanding Officer of the 418th, replacing Major Egan. Capt. Albert (Bucky) Elton appointed Commanding Officer of the 350th, replacing Major Cleven. 8th AF has lost two irreplaceable men in two days – both would have made outstanding Group or Wing Commanders. They were required to make only 10 raids but had completed more – Cleven was on his 20th. He never bothered to call for his DFC awarded for gallantry on the Regensburg mission of August 17, 943 – this was the first DFC awarded a 100th airman. Both had nearly 2000 hours in B-17s – the ordinary pilot in the theater has around 500 hours. They were Randolph Field graduates, two fine, courteous and beloved gentlemen.
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Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Eight
Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)
After a week of restlessness, the aftermath of Africa is upon them, and Val must decide whether to sink or swim. Will she fall back into the confines of her walls to protect herself, or will she let love and friendship guide her through?
Part Seven
Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist
This chapter is 18+ only. Please use judgement before continuing.
Africa was… well Africa was a lot of things. Hot, dry, sandy, and missing his girl. One of the first things he noticed when they landed, aside from Croz kissing the ground, was the small number of forts that seemed to be on the ground with them, or approaching in the distance. The airstrip had been a tricky find, blending in with the monotonous sand color that seemed to encapsulate their new location. But, between Dougie and Croz, they had landed safely and without incident. The same couldn’t be said for everyone else.
And then he heard it.
Ten chutes. It was nine. No, definitely ten. Biddick.
He felt his blood run cold, eyes frantically searching the wind swept airfiend for Wild Cargo. Nothing. He kept searching, trying to focus on something, anything that could confirm that the dread he felt creeping up his spine was needless worry. That Curt Biddick was going to land in a flourish- better late than never, Blakely- and with a cheeky grin wander off in search of trouble. Benny DeMarco caught his eye, his expression stoic and with a small shake of his head, Everett Blakely knew. Curt Biddick was not landing in Africa.
“Well, I’m pretty sure this ain’t Valhalla…”
To his right, Dougie was taking in the scene ahead of them. Harry Crosby to his left, brown eyes wide and taking stock of the number of forts, and bodies exiting them. He seemed to pick up on what had Ev standing so still.
“Blakely…” Croz mumbled, eyes still fixed straight ahead.
“Yeah Croz?”
“How many are you counting?”
“Eleven.”
“Jesus…” Croz sighed, and Ev could hear the broken sound coming from the back of his navigator's throat. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Harry.”
He never called him Harry. Not unless it was absolutely serious, and Wild Cargo missing and Curt not having landed was serious.
“Who’s not here?” Dougie turned, and the minute Ev caught his eye, he knew that Dougie knew. “Christ, no.”
“Yeah… I need to talk to DeMarco.”
“Ev, she’s gonna-”
“I know, Doug. I know.”
Quickly, he divested of his sheepskin and mae west, tossing both back into the belly of the fort before jogging over to where Benny DeMarco stood with Bucky, the pair under the shade of Mugwumps wing, looking on as Buck Cleven brought his fort down on no engines and way off the mark of the runway. Bucky looks about ready to start the good natured ribbing as Buck comes to a stop, and he’s barely aware of Jack Kidd coming up beside him.
“Biddick… he’s not…”
“I don’t know Jack,” Everett sighed. “Going to talk to DeMarco now.”
“Let me know, okay? I’ll find a way to get word to her if we need to.”
“I know,” he turned to him finally, and saw that Jack was genuinely concerned for Curt, as well as Val. Not as hard as he wants them all to think. “Whatever it is, it has to be me that tells her.”
“I’ll leave it up to you then. Just let me know.”
Everett nodded in thanks before continuing on to Benny, who had departed as soon as Buck Cleven was on solid ground in favor of letting the two Major’s have a moment.
“Benny…”
“Wild Cargo bailed over the IP.”
“Jesus Christ…” Everett dragged a hand down his face, grimacing at the thought of Curt abandoning his fort, or at least, keeping it steady so his crew could bail. “How many chutes? I’m hearing-”
“How do I tell her…” he groaned, catching someone being carried from the fort Buck had just landed. “Benny, she's going to be devastated.”
“Let me know how I can help.” Benny clapped him on the shoulder, just as Ev caught Buck Cleven’s attention, the other man dragging his tired body towards where he stood.
“Blakely…”
“Buck, how many did you see?”
“We counted ten.”
“Over the IP?”
“Yeah… Dickie was hit. I’m not sure how bad but, he got out.”
He was left alone then, the men who were safe scattering to their own forts, assessing the damage and trying to figure out their next move. Just A Snappin had taken some flak damage, but nothing that had him worried about making it home. The real damage was somewhere on the ground near the IP, and encroaching slowly and silently on the woman who had kissed him goodbye and sent him off earlier that day.
“FUCK!”
—————————————————-—————————————————
Chick Harding’s office was many things. Clean, but somehow messy with paperwork, and always like walking through a cloud of smoke. Every time Valencia found herself in his personal space, behind the typewriter, there came a point where the smoke from her cigarettes and his cigars would intermingle and she’d lose track of who was smoking more. But there was also something a bit therapeutic about being up in his office- fingers flying across the keys, the notion of being trusted by the Colonel to see things not typically meant for the eyes of a Red Cross volunteer and yet, there she sat, typing away as he rattled off details and dates. You know I’ll find out one way or another, Chicky- and then he would roll his eyes with a wry smile and tell her to keep typing.
She had been up in the office more than usual the last few days; with most of the men still not having returned from Africa, the need for coffee and donuts had dropped with the number of mouths to feed. Still, she would enter his office with a tray for him and Red, two piping hot mugs and a few donuts and if they were lucky, a newspaper from home for them to peruse. Chick would grunt out a response and then inspect the donuts for traces of Benny DeMarco’s best friend, the Husky attached to the girls more than usual with Benny still not back, and Red would usually smile, pick up the newspaper and immediately flip to the sports section with a polite thank you at her gesture. Today was no different.
“Thank you, Miss Val,” Red nodded with a smile, opting to take the seat across from her at the desk she was occupying. “Always appreciate when you bring up some fresh coffee and a bite for us.”
“Well, someone has to feed you two. Sometimes I wonder if you and Chicky ever leave this office.”
“Could say the same about you these last few days,” he folded the paper into his lap, picked up his coffee and fixed her with a look over the rim of the mug. “You up here because Chick needs you typing all of this, or because you want to stay busy while the boys are still away?”
“Bit of both if I’m being honest,” Val sighed, and with a quick flick of her wrist, sent the ribbon on the typewriter back to the start before focusing on Red completely. “My nerves are shot, Red.”
“I see you worrying that rosary between your fingers every day…”
“Even when he’s here I carry it, that’s nothing new.” Val shook her head, desperate to change the subject. Her eyes honed in on the paper, open to sports, sitting on Red’s lap, and she took the opening.
“Reading up for Egan’s sake?” Nodding to the paper with a smile, lighting a cigarette.
“Somehow I think Egan’s getting his sports scores in Africa,” Red laughed. “No, I’m checking the scores for the women’s baseball league back home.”
“I heard about that. Those girls really are something.”
“My sister tried out back when the league started, and she’s been playing for South Bend.”
“No shit!”
“So, even though the papers are usually a few days old, and the scores are outdated, I still like to know how her team is doing.”
“And? How is South Bend doing?”
“Heading to the playoffs it seems.” Red grinned, giving Val a little glimpse of him as just a big brother, proud of his sister.
“Good for her! What’s she play?”
“She’s the second baseman- basewoman?”
“She plays second base; got it.” Val laughed.
“You remind me of her; determined, and she never took any of my big brother crap growing up.”
“You say that because I don’t take Curt’s crap?”
“You don’t take anyone’s crap, Valencia,” Red sighed with a smile as he stood. “Not even Chick’s.”
“Where would the fun be in that if I did?”
“Thanks for the chat, Val. I know who to suss out if I want to talk baseball.”
“Unlike John Egan, I won’t try and turn the 100th into a minor league team between missions.” She winked, standing from the typewriter and stretching.
His laugh as he walked away was all the response she needed. When she heard him greet Olive in the hallway, the Brit’s cheery greeting reaching Val’s ears and soothing something within her, she knew that it was either lunch time and Olive was coming to drag her from the typewriter, or there was news.
“Chicken, you’re still here?”
“Of course I am, Ol. Where else would I be?”
“The truck? It’s almost chow, and Tattie has run to fetch the mail.”
“She left Helen alone with Meatball?”
“Nash is with her.”
“Oh how sweet, is he pouring coffee too?”
“He would if she asked him to, I’ve no doubt about it!”
Lighting another cigarette, Val turns back to the typewriter, mumbling around the lucky strike about how she’s almost done with this last report and then they can go.
“Steady on, Brooklyn, you’re chaining them!” Olive laughs, but it quickly turns to a wince as Val turns a furrowed glance her way.
“Well, it’s hard when you have to read about what your future husband sees up there and what he has to do in this damn war,” Val grumbled. “Would you like to know what yours is doing? Come over here and look.”
“Husband? Ha! Very funny Val.”
Taking another long drag of her cigarette, Val catches Olive wince for the second time that afternoon, her own gaze fixed on the monotonous back and forth; bring the cigarette from her lips to the ashtray next to her, and repeat. But Olive is watching her in such a way that has Val stubbing out her half finished smoke in a fury.
“Why must you do that? You smoke just as much as I do!”
“I’m not judging you for smoking…”
“You wince every time I bring the damn thing to my lips, Ol!”
“Oh! Oh, god, no that’s not why,” Olive shakes her head, and Val raises an eyebrow as she waits for Olive to elaborate. “I’m just not used to seeing anyone really smoke indoors. It was banned some years ago… or rather, it will be banned.”
“Smoking is banned?!” Val crows.
“No! Only smoking inside. If you want to smoke in the future you need to go outside to do it. Would lose my damn mind if I couldn’t smoke at all!”
“What about when it’s raining? Or cold?”
“Outside.” Olive nods in confirmation.
“Oh no thank you! That’s terrible!” Val shudders as Olive pulls her pack of cigarettes from her jumpsuit, flopping down in the chair that Red had been occupying previously, and lighting two. She hands one to Val with a smile before settling into her seat.
“Well look at you, adapting and things!”
“Shut up.” Olive cackles, a cloud of smoke enveloping the two girls as they continue to carry on with laughter, the report behind the ribbon of the typewriter forgotten about momentarily.
They’re broken from the spell of girlhood as the door swings open with a gusto, and the ever booming presence of Chick Harding fills the entryway of the office, with Red Bowman behind him. The door is closed much quieter than it had been opened, Chick grinning as he spots Olive sitting in the chair across from Val. He has his arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to appear stern, but the small smirk on the Colonel’s face gives way to the fact that he does have a soft spot for the two women sitting in his office, and he can’t really hide it as well as he would like to.
“Ah! Just the two gals I was hoping to find!”
“You knew I was in here Chicky.” Val purses her lips as she looks up at him.
“Well, I didn’t know Lewis was with ya.”
“Both here, sir.” Olive replies sharply, standing from her chair.
“Don’t look so grumpy, English.” Chicky grins, catching on to the new nickname that seems to be making its way around base for their British Red Cross girl.
“I’ve got every right to be grumpy,” Olive replies while turning to him, her voice the definition of sweet as pie. “You said, and I quote ‘see ya’ll in a few days’ and here we are pushing a week!”
Val catches Red holding back a smirk as Olive does her best imitation of the good Colonel, but she’s not as subtle, letting go of a laugh that has Chick glaring at her with all the frustration of a father and his daughter, which only makes Val laugh harder.
“Are you two done?” Chick looks between the girls, catching Red’s hidden laughter, he wastes no time in throwing his friend in front of the bus as well. “Don’t encourage em Red, that wasn’t funny.”
“On the contrary, Chick, it was.” Red grins.
“Right, well, yes, I did say a few days, Lewis.”
“So, do you American’s run on a different fucking schedule, or…?”
“Ol! You’re eating the poor guy up, girl!”
Val stands from behind the desk and comes around to stand with Olive, giving her friend a soft whack on the arm in solidarity. She’s fully prepared for Chick to turn his scowl back on them, eyes practically narrowed to slits as he fixed them with that intimidating glare he was known for, but when he began laughing, Olive couldn’t help it and joined it. When she covered her mouth with her hand to try and hide her snort, Val broke out in laughter all over again. It’s Red who breaks the silence, his voice quiet now, almost meek as he addresses the two girls standing in front of him.
“About that…” His voice barely registers, but Val picks it up instantly.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Red!” Her tone is a lot sharper than it had been during their earlier conversation, and it takes him a moment to realize he’s genuinely struck a nerve. “I’ve been in this office for two hours!”
“He was afraid you’d start shoutin at him,” Chick shakes his head before continuing. “He thought if Lewis was up here with you, you might take it a bit better.”
“Well you were wrong on both counts, sir.” Olive narrowed her eyes at him, the lighthearted sarcasm from moments before, gone.
“They’re coming home tomorrow.” Red is quick to reassure both girls as Chick ducks out of the line of fire to slide behind his desk. Just as the Colonel brings a fresh cigar up to his lips, he drops the second half of the news.
“They just need to drop some bombs on Bordeaux first.”
“Bordeaux!” Olive shouts, her voice in tune with Val’s as she shouts a resounding what to both men. “Are you taking the piss?”
“Valencia…” he drawls, looking over at her, his confused face meets her stoic before he continues. “Translate, please.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Val replies, hands on her hips.
“No I’m not fucking kidding! Translate that!”
“That’s what it means, Chicky,” she sighs. “Are you fucking kidding!”
“Oh, well no, Valencia I am not kidding.” He looks at her a bit nervously, and she wants to laugh but she knows it will ruin all her credit as the resident hard ass of Spaghetti n Meatball, so she steels her face and remains stern.
“Fuck sake, Chicky!” Olive crows from next to her, her arms coming up in exasperation before flopping down to her sides.
“Y'all can’t be that bored! Ya got those new replacements keeping ya company! Rosenthal and his fellas seem to be attached to you four like glue,” he takes a deep puff of his stogie before blowing the smoke out into the room. “And that dang mutt.”
“As wonderful as their company has been, they’re not James and Ernest.” Olive sighs.
“Who the hell is Ernest?” Red interjects from where he’s still standing.
“She means Everett.” Val clarifies.
With a sigh, she roots into her pocket for her cigarettes. Quickly lighting one, she takes a deep pull, her shoulders drawing up to her ears, before exhaling a perfect stream of smoke from between her lips. Seeming a drop more relaxed, she strides over to the whiskey decanter in the corner of the room, Chick giving her a slight nod of confirmation as she pours two fingers worth into one glass, before doing the same in a second for Olive.
“That’s his middle name?” Red questions after a beat, his brows knitted together in confusion.
“You two have his paperwork,” Val glances over the edge of the glass as she brings it to her lips. “You tell me.”
“You’re gettin on my nerves, Valencia…” Chick drawls, standing and following her earlier movements to the whiskey decanter. He quickly pours himself a measure before doing the same for Red. She knows he’s not being fully serious, but she feels some sort of pride that she’s made him stew if only a fraction of the amount that she’s been all week.
“Good, then you know how we feel.”
“You've been nervous, I know.”
“Going to need a new Rosary soon, Chicky.”
“That day ever comes, I’ll walk into a church and get it for you myself.”
“Better have the fire marshall on standby.” Olive snickers from behind her.
“Ha ha, are you two done yet?”
“Don’t know, you got any more reports?”
“Not today, no. Go on now, scram.” he jokes, pointing to the door.
“I better not find out you lied, or I’ll send the dog in here.” Val threatened.
“Tomorrow, Valencia, we’re not lying,” Red nodded, giving her a look that told her he was telling the truth. “And please, keep the dog out of the office.”
“Fine,” she replied curtly. “But only because Red asked so nicely.”
“Had enough of y’all for one day. Giving me a headache.” Chick jokes, shaking his head as he takes another swig of his whiskey.
“Couldn’t possibly be all the cigars and whiskey, Chicky.” Val rolled her eyes with a smile, knocking back the rest of her drink before pulling Olive out of the office with her.
“Go on!” He hollered after them.
“Mission complete!” Val giggled as they exited the office, arm in arm, to join Helen and Tattie back at the Clubmobile.
Following the sound of the Clubmobile’s newest addition, a phonograph, the girls listen as the music playing from the back of the truck gets louder. It arrived in the latest supply shipment from The Red Cross just two days after the boys had left, and the four girls had wasted no time in putting it to good use.
“Couldn’t miss us now if you tried!” Val grinned.
“In this fog? Just blast the Andrew’s Sisters and there we are!” Olive cackled.
“Wait, you know this song?” Val turned to her in surprise, the chorus of Don’t Sit Under The AppleTree carrying across the tannoy.
“Sure do! Pearl loves this song!”
“Oh how darling!” Val gushes, giving Olive’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Also explains how you dance so well.”
”Oh, that’s just a good partner.”
“Well, you’re not wrong there,” she agrees. “I’ve seen Dougie dance, and he certainly takes you for a spin every time!”
She just barely catches Olive’s grin growing wider as they reach the truck before it gives way to sadness at the mention of Dougie. She realizes then that it’s been almost a week since she’s danced with Everett or felt his arms wrap her up and hold her close. With a sigh, she gives Olive another squeeze, her arm wrapped around her shoulder, before she leaves her to light up a cigarette and clear her own head. Quickly, she makes the three steps up the back, finding Tattie inside with Helen.
“Girls, are we missing someone?’ Val looks around, taking stock of the inside of Spaghetti n’ Meatball.
“Meatball is asleep in the front.” Helen gestures to the cab of their truck without even looking up from her magazine. No one ever goes up in the front unless they need to move it into the garage for maintenance and even then, it’s usually Kenny or Wink that does the driving.
”The front of the truck?”
”Drivers seat,” Tattie chuckles.“He kept trying to sleep in here but we kept disrupting him, so I opened the door and he hopped right in. Curled up and was out like a light.”
”He’s getting restless too. I know he misses Benny.”
“Speaking of restless parties,” Tattie smirked. “You’ve got mail.”
Reaching into the pocket of her jumpsuit, Tattie pulls an envelope from within before handing it over. She snatches it from her without so much as a word, green eyes bright with happiness at the messy scrawl of her name on the front. She heaved a sigh as she tore into it without ceremony, dropping onto the stool that Tattie had just vacated. She was vaguely aware of her speaking to Olive outside on the grass, her focus entirely on Everett’s handwriting that was just for her.
Heya Sweetheart,
I miss you. I’m not even going to try and sugar coat it. Africa is hot, and there’s sand everywhere, and I just want to come home to you. We’ve ventured into Marrakech and met some of the locals which has been about the only fun while we wait for our next set of orders. Bucky’s traded his crusher cap for a fez and pinned his oak leaves into his new hat- quite the sight and I’m sure he’ll be eager to tell you all about it when you see him.
I found you something in one of the market stalls, but you’ll have to wait until I get back to find out what it is. I hope you like it though. Your gift may not be the only thing us fellas come home with. Egan and Doug have taken to, of all things, a Donkey. They’ve named him Moe and are trying to convince me and Cleven that we should bring him back. Have I mentioned that I just want to come home?
I hope you and the girls are staying out of trouble. A tall order, I know, but please try. For me at least. Hopefully the fellas that are still on base have kept you company, and Meatball isn’t giving you too much trouble. DeMarco misses him, and I only know this because he keeps whining about it. He’s a good dog though so I can see why, but baby, I miss you way more. I promise when I’m back we’re going on a proper date, just me and you. I don’t care if it’s just to the pub in town. I just want to be somewhere quiet with you.
I love you, I love you, I love you, Val. I’ll be home soon.
Yours,
Everett
She had to read it over again, not just for the declaration of love at the end, but to make sure she got it right. A fez cap for Bucky, the street markets in Marrakech and…a Donkey?! Everett had to be pulling her leg with that one, but as she heard Olive cackling from where she had left her on the grass, she couldn’t help but wonder.
“Ol?!” She has her head out the window of The Clubmobile in a flash, Helen right next to her as they spot Olive holding her own letter and laughing loudly.
“Val! Come here!”
She’s down the stairs in a flash, Helen hot on her heels as they join Olive who simply hands her letter to Val for inspection. As she begins reading, she stops just as Helen exclaims what Val was now sure was true.
“A donkey?!” Helen asks, clapping a hand over her mouth to quiet her giggles. “What in the world!”
“Oh, that’s not even the best part!” Olive is still giggling as she gestures to the end of the letter. “Read it out loud, chicken, go on I trust you.”
Val shakes her head before doing her best impression of Doug, reading the last few lines of his letter to Olive.
Know that you are always in my thoughts, from the moment I wake until I rest my head at night. But even then, you fill my dreams. You are and always will be the only girl for me. I hope.
“I HOPE?” Val concludes, eyes turning on Olive wide as saucers, shock and disbelief etched on her face. “What does that mean!”
“Beat’s me,” Olive laughs, dropping her head to Val’s shoulder as she takes the letter back. “Oh lord, what have I gotten myself into?”
“You love him, chickie, that’s what.”
“Yes,” Olive finally replies, cheeks glowing a bright red. “I do love him.”
“Love him enough to take in a donkey?”
“I think he’s only joking…” Olive trails off.
“You hope,” Val nudges her in the ribs with a grin. “According to Ev, this is a two man show. Dougie and Egan have both taken a shine to that ass.”
“Oh no…”
“Oh yes…”
She feels lighter, relief settling over the girls as they realize the boys are safe. They would be home tomorrow, and Val already felt more like herself knowing she would be wrapped up in Everett’s arms soon, that her family would be whole again and they would be one step closer to ending the war and going home.
Tonight, she would set her hair and make sure she had a fresh coat of varnish on her nails. She would take extra time to help Olive do the same, knowing that Helen, as well as Tattie would be joining them even though Tattie didn’t want anyone to know she had her eye on Jack Kidd. It would be a tried and true girls night, even with Meatball in the hut with them.
“Val, are you painting his nails?”
“He’s sitting so good for me! Look!”
“Benny is going to have your head for that,” Helen laughed, but not one to miss out; dabbed a bit of her rouge on the husky’s cheeks. “Even if he does look so handsome!”
“I’ll deal with Benny,” she grinned, applying the final coat of varnish to his little toes. “He won’t be able to stay mad at me for long.”
——————————————————————————————————
Morning came quickly, and with it, excitement. All of the girls jumped out of bed at the sound of their alarm clock ringing, the four of them rushing into the washroom to splash cool water on their face, remove their moisturizer from the night before and brush their teeth. There was extra care in their makeup application, and Val had pinned Olive’s hair for her before doing her own- let’s get you all pretty for Dougie.
Helen was first out of the hut, taking Meatball on his morning walk to the truck so that the three girls who were anticipating their sweethearts return had a few extra minutes to make sure every hair was in place and their lips meticulously painted red in preparation of welcome home kisses, no matter what Tattie said about her and Jack. The Just A Snappin boys had surely been missed, and while Val couldn’t wait to wrap Everett in her arms and welcome him back, she also couldn’t wait to see Curt, two feet on the ground and that cheeky grin on his face as he told her how dusty Africa had been, as if she didn’t already know it was a sand pit.
“Excited to see Dougie?
“It’s the longest we’ve been apart since I got here…”
“I know chickie, but just think, now he can finish his declaration of love!” Val grinned teasingly.
“I could have just killed Croz for interrupting him.” Olive groaned, dropping her rouge back into her makeup pouch.
“This hasn’t been pleasant at all,” Tattie sighed, pulling on her uniform jacket. “They’ve been gone way too long.”
“Tat, do you miss Jack?” Val teased.
“What? No!”
“Katherine Spaatz…” Olive narrowed her eyes at her, lips pursed as she sized her up.
“Wow Olive, my full name huh?”
“Yeah, now be honest. Have you missed him?”
“I guess I have, yeah,” Tattie admitted. “I’m not sure what’s going on. I missed all of the fellas but, yeah, I missed Jack.”
“Well, I for one think it’s sweet.” Val stood, pulling on her own jacket before tucking her rosary into one pocket, cigarettes and lighter in the other.
“You’re just floating on cloud 9 because Ev’s coming back and he promised you a special date.”
“Ol! You told her?”
“Sure did,” Olive joined them at the door. “If you and Ernest disappear we need to cover for you!”
“Just make sure Ernest uses protection,” Tattie narrowed her eyes playfully at Val before tossing her a condom. “But just in case, I want my girls to be safe.”
“Safe, but not abstinent, Tat?” Val teased.
“This is the Red Cross, not a convent. And let me tell you, your man is damn handsome so I won’t blame you.”
“That means she’s thinking of doing it with Jack.” Olive grinned, pulling the door open and stepping outside.
“If she hasn’t already!” Val chimed in, watching as Tattie lit a cigarette and rolled her eyes.
“I have not done it with Jack.”
“But you want to…”
“You two are insufferable, just like the men in your lives.”
As they approached the Clubmobile, Helen was pouring coffee for Doc Stover, who was on his way to the interrogation hut so he could give anyone who passed through a once over. His trusty pipe was wedged between his teeth as he gave Meatball a little affection while he waited for Helen to finish up.
“Do you want anything else, Smokey?” She leaned from the window with his cup, waiting for him to make a decision.
“Do we have any newspapers?”
“New York Times,” she mused, looking under the counter. “Hmm, The Post, and Val’s Screen Romances.”
“I’ll take The Times, please Helen.”
“You got it.”
Coming up behind him, Val couldn’t resist teasing him.
“What’s the matter Smokey; my magazine’s not good enough for you?”
“I don’t need to know who Bogey is smooching, Valencia.”
“You’re missing out,” she chuckled. “Lots of pretty gals in there.”
“I’ll pass,” he shook his head before turning to them fully. “Are you girls setting up interrogation?”
“We are,” Tattie nodded. “Going to brew a fresh urn and have some of the boys carry it over. We’ll get the donuts and whiskey over while that brews though.”
“Okay. Let me know if any of the fellas give you grief and I’ll get it done.”
“The fellas who would give us grief are the ones flying home.” Val winked with a smile.
“Well no matter, just let me know.” He nodded as he walked off to the hut to meet whoever was already there.
“Thanks Smokey!” Val called after him.
“I’ve already got one brewing for interrogation,” Helen winked from her perch inside the truck. “All we need to do is carry over the snacks and whiskey.”
“You’re a doll, Helen.” Olive grinned, making her way into the truck to begin securing what needed to be transferred.
“Who wants to get their fella to carry that urn?” Val singsonged, looking up at Helen.
“Why are you looking at me?” She blushed.
“Because I said fella,” Val replied, moving to the back to grab the crate with the empty glasses. “Our fellas are all flying home…”
“Nash isn’t my fella…”
“No? So I saw you smooching someone else outside the hut last night?”
“You saw me!?”
“Sweetheart, you were right in front of the window.”
“Oh no! That means Red saw too!”
“What did I see that I wasn’t supposed to?”
“NOTHING!” All the girls yell at once after hearing Red sneak up on them.
“Mhmm. You girls just, try and remember they still gotta fight the war, yeah?”
“We know, Red.”
“I’m not against any of you bein happy.”
“Aw, that’s sweet of you Red!” Olive grinned, leaning down from the hatch with his coffee.
“Thanks Lewis,” he nodded, accepting the cup. “You and Douglass need to stop being out past curfew though.”
“What? Us? No, never!”
“She’s starting to sound like you, DiRosano.”
“Everett and I are never out past curfew.” She grinned.
“Then I saw someone else coming back from the hardstand in a jeep last week.” His thick brows raised, mustache twitching as he tried not to laugh at the horrified look on her face as it appeared in the hatch of the truck.
“Sorry?” She squeaked.
“And you,” he looked over at Tattie. “I’m not sure I want to know if what I think is true is actually true.”
“Not sure what you mean, Red.”
“I’m tied up in the gossip of this place and I’m not sure how it happened.”
“Just drink your coffee, Red.” Olive laughed, coming out of the truck with a tray of donuts before winking and making her way across to interrogation.
“She’s right,” Val added on as she descended the three small steps to follow Olive. “Just drink your coffee.”
By the time the girls had set up the front of the interrogation hut, Rosie and Pappy were lifting the urn full of fresh coffee onto the table behind Helen. Nash was supervising- flirting with Helen- while Speas had offered to help out with getting the snacks organized with Val.
“You boys are good eggs, you know that?”
“Even Romeo over there?” He rolled his eyes, gesturing to Nash.
“He makes her smile.” Val replied, ushering him back around to the front of the table so that he and the boys could get out of the way of the fellas that were expected to be landing any minute.
“Do you girls need anything else?” Rosie turned, dusting his hands off.
“We’re all set, thanks fellas.” Olive grinned, coming to join Val where the donuts and whiskey were laid out.
“See you after,” he grinned. “Good luck!”
“How about a quick smoke before the boys come stomping their dirty boots in here, hmm chicken?”
“Sounds good, yes please.” Val heaves a sigh, coming around the table to join Olive.
Throwing an arm over her shoulder, the two make their way outside into the sunshine to wait for the arrival of B-17s that would bring Thorpe Abbotts back to life.
The rumble of the forts approaching comes as the girls are standing outside, and Val immediately turns her face to the sky to find a cascade of B-17s in a perfect line approaching the airfield. Her red lips stretch into an impossibly wide smile as she grabs Olive in excitement, the two of them feeling immediate relief at knowing that both Everett and Doug are just moments from entering the hut.
“Come on you two,” Tattie calls from the door with an equally excited smile. “Let’s get that whiskey poured so they have something when they walk in.”
“Yes ma’am!” Comes their reply in unison, the two running into the hut together.
The sound of the jeeps is not far behind the roar of engines, and suddenly the raucous chatter of the men that had been gone for the last several days fills the air, and sets the entire place alight again. As each crew enters the hut, the relief seems to melt from the boys upon seeing the girls. Whiskey is passed around with warm and welcoming smiles, the girls doing their best to acknowledge each face as it passed them while still looking out for those of their friends and their fellas.
Benny is the first of their gang to step foot into the hut, and Val sees him make straight for Olive who is already arms open wide for her friend, a drink in hand. She assumes he’s asking about Meatball, and when she hears Benny say he’ll come get him when they’re done, she knows she had been right. She sees Benny take down the whiskey Olive had offered him in one shot before he’s making his way towards her. His expression looks somber but she chalks it up to exhaustion and gives him her best smile and cheery disposition.
“Cugine!” She beams, opening her arms for a hug.
“Val… I’m so…”
“Tired? Yeah, you look it!”
“I’m sorry, I…I’m sorry.”
As he walks away, she turns to Olive, but before she can ask her what that was all about, Dougie’s voice booms through the hut demanding that everyone in front of him get out of his way. Val just catches him making a beeline for Olive before she spots Everett directly behind him pushing his way through to her. In a flash she’s in his arms, safe and content, his face buried deep in the crook of her neck. She can just make out the sound of him breathing in her perfume as she cards her hand through his unruly curls. He’s home and she feels like she can finally breathe for the first time in a week.
“Hi honey,” she murmurs, tipping his face up to get a good look at him. “Welcome home.”
“Baby…” he catches her lips quickly, the noise at the back of her throat fizzling out as he pulls back to look at her. “Val, I..”
“Let me guess, you forgot my gift in Africa.”
“No, no that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I need to tell you something,and I-”
“Don’t tell me. Curt’s cooling his heels outside?” She cuts him off as she promptly looks over his shoulder to see if her friend had barged through the door yet.
“No, sweetheart,” Ev sighs, and she can see his face pale before his next words leave his mouth. “Curt’s not here.”
“Well where is he?”
“He… Val he never landed in Africa.”
“What do you mean he never landed in Africa? Everett!”
“He never made it,” his words sound muffled as she starts to feel like she’s slipping under water, her head spinning as he says the next half of his sentence. “He bailed out over the IP.”
She’s not sure where the noise is coming from, but the Interrogation hut is suddenly filled with the sounds of shrill screaming, and she feels hot all over, like someone has turned her inside out and placed her over a bed of hot coals. Her legs feel weak and she can’t seem to fully grasp that the screaming is coming from her until Everett is holding her arms in his hands to stop her from hitting him. When did she start hitting him? This was every nightmare come to life- that dream before they left was nothing more than a premonition- a world without her best friend, her brother. A life without Curtis Biddick.
“Val, Val, baby come on, hey, look at me!”
“You lied!” She screamed, wrenching her arm from his grasp and hitting him again. “Why! Why did you lie!”
“I didn’t lie,” he sighed, pulling her into his chest, holding her flush against him. “Shhh, I didn’t lie.”
“You wrote,” she whimpered, face pressed into his dirty flight suit. “You didn’t say anything.”
Before he can reply, Tattie is pulling Val from him, eyes apologetic as she passes her over to Olive, who promptly wraps her in her arms and begins guiding her out of the hut. Just as they pass through the door she hears Bucky address the room full of men.
“You fellas can get your own whiskey. Come on, give our girls some space.”
She feels her body begin to shake as the cool air hits her, Olive’s grasp on her tightening just so as she guides her away from interrogation and towards their own hut. She only just hears Benny calling after them, still covered in dirt and sweat, he jogs over to them just before they’re out of earshot, with Buck hot on his heels. Buck places an awkward, yet slightly comforting hand on her shoulder, hesitating for a moment before he says what she’s hoping is the truth.
“I saw ten chutes, Miss Val. My navigator saw it too.”
“Do you promise?” She feels the words catch in her throat as she looks up at Cleven, sees him sigh and avert his gaze to the men still milling about the hut she’s just exited. “Gale! Do you promise?”
Her question comes more forceful the second time, the tension of it rising between the four of them as she waits for an answer.
“Cugine, I saw ten.” Benny’s confirmation has her releasing a breath she wasn’t even aware she had been holding, the sound of her whimpering, the sound she’s trying so hard not to let loose in front of the men, is forcing its way out of her. Never let them see you cry- it plays on a loop in her head as she tries in vain to quiet that voice.
“Benny, are you sure?”
“On the Madonna, I swear I saw ten chutes leave his fort.” Benny grabs her hand quickly, giving it a squeeze before pulling back, his eyes never leaving hers. That, well, that seems to be all she needs to hear before nodding and turning back in the direction of the Red Cross hut.
As soon as they step inside, Meatball can sense something isn’t right with them. He jumps from his spot on Olive's bed and over to Val’s without a second thought. Patiently, he waits for her to sit down, and after making a few circles on the blanket, he drops down so his head falls into her lap, paws over her legs. In a desperate attempt at seeking comfort, Val snuggles close to the husky; her hands find his fur and curl in deep, letting her whole body curl up to try and find some warmth.
“Oh, chicken…” Olive’s voice cracks as she squeezes in next to Val on the bed. “What can I do?”
She wraps an arm around her friend, and Val can feel her begin to run her fingers through her hair much the same way as her mother used to do when she was a little girl.
“Tell me it’ll be alright,” Val weeps. “Why aren’t you telling me it’ll be alright?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to hear it,” Olive confesses. “But it will… it will all be alright.”
They stay like that for some time; Meatball snoring between them, Olive soothing her friend as she continues running her fingers through her hair. She feels uneasy all over, and every time she thinks she’s relaxed enough to breathe, another wave of grief washed over her and the air catches in her lungs, stopping her from doing anything but giving way to a shaky exhale. For the first time in her life, Valencia DiRosano feels lost, and it’s not because she’s so far from home.
“Ouch!” Val pulls back quickly as Olive removes her hair from her hair, her curls now twisted into a knot. “Careful, English!”
“Sorry! I’m sorry!”
Olive jumps off the bed, hands digging through Val’s cosmetics on her small table before coming back with her brush.
“Let’s brush this out, hmm?”
“Okay…” they both sound equally nervous; Olive because she’s usually on the receiving end of Val doing her hair, and Val, well, because she knows just where Olive’s skills lie in doing hair.
“I’ll be careful I promise.” Olive gives her arm a gentle squeeze before sitting behind her.
Val nods silently in response, turning her back to Olive so she can begin.
“Alright,” Olive sighs, and Val can still hear the nerves in her friend's voice.
She begins brushing lightly, the methodical feeling of the bristles against her scalp causing Val’s breaths to begin evening out and the stuffiness in her nose to clear up.
“For what it’s worth,” Olive says, breaking the silence. “I think Curt made it, just not to Africa.”
“What makes you say that?” Val feels fresh tears forming in her eyes.
“Because he’s Curt, and if he didn’t,” there’s a pause as Olive focuses on a particular spot she’s brushing. “He’d be poking you in your sleep like the little imp he is.”
“Birichino…” she laughs weakly as she thinks about him. “What a pain in my ass.”
They sit in silence, Olive letting Val collect herself as best she can while doing her best to fix her hair. It’s when Val reaches up to stop her, her brows furrowed slightly, that Olive sees some of the color come back to her friends cheeks.
“Wait, that part where you’ve got the brush, don’t pull it back like that,” Val instructs her, taking her hand and manipulating it slightly. “It always goes forward and to the side.”
“Forward, and to the side…” Olive pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to do what Val said. “Like that?”
“Perfect,” Val smiles and directs Olive to the crown of her head. “And this part, always here, like this.”
When she notices Olive struggling, she takes the brush and demonstrates for her, before letting her hair flop back to its natural state and letting Olive try again. When she finally gets it, securing the last bit with a small hairpin, Val can’t help but smile just a little wider.
“There we go, chicken,” Olive says, squeezing Val’s shoulders. “How did I do?”
“Not too bad, English.” She nods, tilting her head this way and that as she inspects her handiwork in the small handheld mirror.
“Oh, I meant with keeping you occupied.” Olive turned to her, taking the mirror back and placing it on the table.
“Like I said,” Val winked. “Not too bad.”
“What else can I do for you?”
“Don’t say it like that, Ol. It makes you sound like a servant.”
“How else should I say it?” She shrugged.
“Not like that. You’re my best friend not my servant.”
“Okay…” Val watched as she rolled her eyes a little before sitting back down with her. “What would you like to do then?”
“If I said I wanted to curl up and cry would you judge me?” She could feel her lip wobbling as the words left her.
“Judge you? Absolutely not. Never.”
“I sense a but coming…”
“But…” Olive teased, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into her side. “Curt would be so upset if he saw you crying.”
“He doesn’t know though, does he? He’s not here anymore, Olive.”
“He’s here, he’s just not in England.”
Nodding, she let her gaze fall to the small frame on her bedside table. The photos of the people in her life littering the space as she stopped on the one of her and Curt just two months back in the officers club. His Class A uniform and her Red Cross jacket side by side, matching smiles. Would that be all she had left of him now? A photo?
“This never would have happened if he had just…”
“Just what?”
“Let me make him a new red braid. His broke right before they left and he tied it back on…”
“Oh…”
“HE TIED IT BACK ON!”
Her screaming came just as there was a knock on the door of their hut. Val, still in Olive’s grasp, was shaking in anger, and she hated to leave her to answer whoever was outside. So instead…
“Come in!” Olive yelled, loud enough to reach their visitors' ears.
The door opens and Ev is the first to enter, Dougie standing behind him quietly. Val just catches him and Olive exchange a glance before Ev is kneeling in front of her, his hands holding her knees as he tries to catch her eye.
“Hi baby…”
“Hi…”
Ev turns, a quick glance at the couple standing behind him, and Dougie is suggesting he and Olive take Meatball for a walk. The dog agrees faster than either of his human counterparts can corral him into his harness and out of the hut. Once the door is closed, it’s just them in the room, and Val isn’t sure if she wants to scream at Everett or cry more. Everything is so wrong right now.
“Hey, come on now pretty,” Ev coaxes her. “Look at me. Let me see you.”
“Why…”
“It was bad up there,” Ev spoke lowly, almost as if he was afraid that if he raised his voice beyond a whisper she would startle. “I’ve never seen flak like that before.”
“Not why did he bail out,” she raised her head so that their eyes finally met. “Why did you wait to tell me?”
“Did you really want to hear that in a letter, or from Chick and Red?”
“I was in his office for a week, and he didn’t so much as hint at something being wrong.”
“Jack got word back to them once we linked up with the 12th…” he stood, coming to sit next to her on the bed. “He asked me if I wanted to get word to you. I knew you had to hear it in person. A letter would have broken you.”
“But this didn’t break me, right? This was better. Easier.”
“I didn’t want to keep it from you!” He stressed, grabbing her hands and turning so they faced each other. “We have to hear everything in fucking letters, Val! I couldn’t let news about Curt be reduced to a letter…”
“Did you see it?”
“No… I heard when I landed.”
“So, ten chutes then?”
“Ten.” He confirmed. “Dickie got hit, but he got out.”
“Jesus Christ… where do you think they landed?”
“It was after Claytor and his crew bailed so-”
“Claytor too!?” Val’s eyes were wide, the realization of just how much this mission had cost them all, not just her, truly sinking in. “Everett… How many forts landed in Africa?”
“Eleven…” He said it almost hushed, afraid she would start crying again.
“I’m sorry…”
“Why are you sorry? I should be sorry. I am sorry!”
“For getting mad, for calling you a liar. Especially for calling you a liar.”
“I did lie,” he groaned, pulling her against him and laying down on her bunk. “I wrote to you and I left out the most important detail.”
“It wasn’t a lie. A lie would have been you telling me he bailed when really he’s dead somewhere in Germany…”
“Honey…”
“Please, tell me my best friend isn’t laying dead somewhere in Germany stripped of everything by the Krauts!” She pressed her face against his chest, hands gripping his jacket so tightly he was afraid she might tear the leather, and began sobbing again.
This was not Curt Biddick landing somewhere other than England and simply bringing up the rear on the way home. This wasn’t him galavanting and coming back after everyone else. This was war, and Curt Biddick, as far as Ev Blakely was aware, was a survivor. A fighter. And if he had any doubts that Curt wouldn’t fight to get back to them all, to his best friend, he’d have been openly honest with the woman in his arms.
“Ev,” Val sucked in a shaky breath, looking up at him with watery eyes. “Do you think he’s dead?”
“No,” his voice held every ounce of conviction he could possibly hope to convey to her. “I absolutely do not think he’s dead. I think he’s alive and I think he’s doing his best to get back.”
“Olive said…she said that if he was really gone I’d know it.”
“Yeah?”
“She said he’d be poking at me in my sleep because he’s a…he’s a pain in my ass.”
“Well she’s right, sweetheart. He would annoy you as much in death as he does in life.”
He carefully runs his thumb across her cheek to wipe away the tears, the black smudge left in their wake a combination of her mascara and what he assumes is the dirt on his hands. He’s yet to shower, but that’s the least of his priorities at the moment. Right now, he’s fully consumed with the girl in his arms, who for all of her gusto and laughter that she leaves along base every day, looks so incredibly small and child-like in the way she’s curled up against him, fighting for a place to hide.
He held her until he lost track of time. Until it didn’t matter if he was still in need of a shower and clean uniform. He held her until she finally cried herself to sleep, and then he followed after, his eyes falling shut only once he knew she was settled. It wasn’t at all how he pictured the first time they slept together- this or otherwise- but it was the way it had to be right now. It was what she needed, and he’d fight tooth and nail to make sure that she got everything she needed to stand on her own two feet.
——————————————————————————————————
It was some time later when he felt her stir, a small sigh as she burrowed deeper into his side, her grip on him still as tight as when they had first laid down. Carefully, he craned his neck to peek at her, and immediately felt his heart break. Her eyes were red and her cheeks stained with rouge and mascara that had fallen victim to her tears, and her lipstick had been rubbed off on where she had her face pressed to his flight suit. The pastel hues of the setting sun filled the room, and if they didn’t get up now, they’d be awake all night.
Gently, he let his hand come to rest on her head, smoothing her hair down as best as he could, knowing she would crow about it if she were in a better frame of mind.
“You stayed…”
“Of course I stayed,” surprise laced his voice that she would even suggest otherwise. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m just expecting to be alone now.”
“Not happening baby. Not while I’m around.”
He felt her nod against his chest before she abruptly pulled away from him, sitting up slightly and fixing him with a look. Her brow was pinched and for a moment, she looked like she usually did- like his Val.
“Eugh…” she frowned, catching a whiff of what he could only assume was the result of still not showering. “Ev honey, you…”
“I what?” Raising his eyebrows, he waited for her to answer.
“You smell really bad, honey.”
He barked out a laugh at her honesty, not even bothering to disagree with her because he knew it was true. He needed a whole bar of soap and a clean uniform but she had needed him more.
“I’m sorry, but you needed me more than I needed the shower.”
“Are we sure about that?”
“Yes,” he laughed. “I can go now though and come right back.”
“Was there no water in Africa?”
“No, no, I had a shower there,” he nodded, eyes roaming all over. “This would uhm, it would be Moe.”
“I’m sorry? Who’s Moe?”
“Dougie and Bucky sort of took a liking to a donkey over there, and well-”
“We thought you were joking!”
“I thought I was joking too.”
“Everett… is there a donkey on this base?”
“There’s a donkey on this base.”
“Are you crazy! Chicky is going to have a stroke!”
“I tried to tell him.”
“Try harder next time,” she sighed, tucking her legs under herself and sitting up straighter. “Was it…Moe…was it in your fort?”
“Crank’s…”
“So he had Bucky, and the donkey?”
“Yeah. The fellas had to wrap him up in blankets to keep him warm.”
“Of course they did! Oh and you’ve been on my bed in your…your donkey clothes! Ev!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Now I have to change my sheets!”
“How about I grab a shower and clean up; and you can change the sheets, take a hot shower and I’ll be back. Half hour, tops.”
As soon as he suggested leaving, even for the shortest amount of time, her face crumbled and the laughter they were fumbling through just a moment ago was gone.
“Or, I’ll grab clothes and come back here?”
“N-no, you can go. I’ll be okay…” she tried to convince herself and him. “Go on, I’ll get these cleaned up and then get myself in order.”
“Give me five minutes. I’ll be right back,” he leaned forward to drop a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips. “Why don’t you turn on the gramophone and change the sheets.”
“Okay… yeah, that’s a good idea.”
“Then take a shower. I’ll go after you, okay?”
“Thank you,” she sighed, letting her shoulders drop in exhaustion. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”
“You’re not a mess,” he grinned, grabbing her hand and squeezing. “You’re hurting, there’s a difference.”
“I love you…”
“Love you too, baby.”
“Even if you stink so bad right now.”
——————————————————————————————————
“Tell me something good?” Val peered up at Everett from where she sat, back against the iron headboard of her bed, tucked under his arm.
“Hmm… there’s more whiskey in that bottle…”
“That is good,” she pressed her cheek against his chest. “But not what I meant.”
“I think Doug is finally telling Olive he loves her.”
“About time,” chuckling, she lifted the glass to her lips. “I thought he was going to strangle Croz for interrupting him before you boys left.”
“Gave him a good smack once we all loaded up.”
“I’m not surprised. Love makes you do things like that.”
“Beat people up?” Ev laughed, running his fingers through her hair.
“Yes, actually, it does.”
The words were muffled, her face now fully buried against his shirt, the glass deposited on her side table. It was the first time Everett had seen her without any makeup; after he left she had made a dash for the jar of cold cream to remove her blotchy makeup and help the puffiness in her eyes and cheeks subside. She felt comfortable with him, knew he wouldn’t judge her for putting her fresh face on display, and when he had emerged from the shower after she finished, and didn’t immediately reach for the pomade to style his hair, she knew he felt the same.
“Val? Are you talking about you? Or Olive and Doug?”
“Me…”
“Sweetheart, did someone hurt you?”
“Yes…”
“When.” His voice was growing more stern and she could feel him shifting as if he wanted to storm outside and find whoever it was.
“It was before the war,” immediately she felt him relax just slightly. “But… if I tell you, you’re going to look at me differently.”
“I could never.”
“Like used goods…”
“Used goods-Val, baby, never!”
“Do you promise?”
“I swear, nothing could get me to ever look at you differently. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she peered up at him from where she was currently tucked against him, and she could see the anxiousness in his eyes, the worry that someone had taken from her without her saying so. Hurt her in a way that could not be repaired. “That’s why I’m afraid to tell you. I’d be devastated if I lost you too.”
“You won’t lose me. You haven’t lost Curt either, he’s just, taking the long way home.”
“Yeah… yeah he is…”
“When you’re ready, I’ll listen.”
She carefully untangled herself from him, crossing her legs underneath herself she sat straight up, gaze focused on Everett. She took a deep breath, and mustered all her courage; the courage Curt had taught her to have as kids, and reminded her she had as an adult, and began telling him the same story she had told the girls only a week prior.
“Back when I worked for the bank, before the war, I met someone. He worked at the bank too. He was charming, but it wasn’t the kind of charming like you, or any of our friends. It was…it was different.”
“How so?”
“Curt used to say he had a tongue like a rattlesnake. Poison.”
“Go on…”
“I told Curt he was too overprotective, but the truth was I was so blinded by how charming he was that I ignored just how terrible he spoke to me.”
“I already don’t like this fella.”
“We went out for about three months, and I guess I thought his charming behavior was a good enough reason to-”
“Please don’t tell me he…did he do what I think he did?”
“No,” she quickly ended that train of thought before Everett could get too hot under the collar for the wrong reasons. “I was stupid, and so when he asked, I said yes. He had made all sorts of empty promises to go along with it. A big house, a fancy wedding, all the things money could buy.”
“Didn’t follow through, did he?”
“I was so shallow, and I believed him. Turns out once he got what he wanted, I became too much. Too loud, not ladylike, difficult…”
“So what happened?”
“Curt and I were walking home one night. When it was dark, Curt would wait for me outside the bank and we would go home together.”
“Very good of him, remind me to thank him.”
“Well, we passed the picture house and there he was, with the most petite blonde in his arms, looking for her god damn tonsils.”
Everett let go of the breath he was holding, and immediately reached for the bottle of whiskey on the side table closest to him. Unscrewing the cap, he handed it to her, brow raised as he waited for her to fill her glass, but instead, she lifted the bottle to her lips and tipped it back, the amber liquid sloshing back into the bottle once she was done.
“That’s one way to take the edge off,” he forced out a laugh, taking the bottle from her and mirroring her previous actions. “So, tell me, how is any of this supposed to make me look at you different?”
“You don’t think I'm used or dirty? Second hand goods?”
“You, baby, are my girl, and my girl is not used or second hand anything.”
“I hate myself for ever letting him make me think that’s what love was.”
“We all make mistakes,” he pulled her against his chest, holding her close, smoothing her hair with his free hand. “This may come as a surprise to you but, you wouldn’t be my first either.”
“Not to sound unsurprised but, I’m not surprised.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re so charming, and kind, and you are the best person I know. You look after your crew, and your friends. You look after me,” she grinned up at him, tucking her index finger under his chin. “And you’re so damn handsome.”
“Well, thank you sweetheart. And I appreciate you putting handsome at the end of that list.”
“Oh?”
“That’s all any of my old girlfriends wanted me for. A handsome face.”
“You’re more than that, Everett.”
“And you’re more than one mistake, Valencia.”
The weight of that one mistake, the guilt she had carried for giving herself to someone she wasn’t married to when he had treated her so terribly, it felt lighter. Not gone, but lighter. Curt had tried, in vain, to make her see that years ago, but she had suffered with guilt- not to mention that he became a bit extra protective of her after that any time someone tried to date her. Any man after the one who had broken her heart was either scared off after one date or deemed not good enough. Deep down, knowing that Curt had been the one to nudge Everett in her direction, meant the world to her. Curt had seen what she saw in him- kindness, a genuine man with good intentions who would keep her safe. Almost as if Curt had known she’d need safe keeping in someone other than him during this war.
“Wait, how does that tie into beating people up for love?” Everett looked like he was trying to put the pieces together.
“Oh, there’s more to the story.”
“I’m sensing that…”
“Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested, and I had to post two weeks wages to bail Curt out of jail.”
“When you say within an inch of his life…”
“I mean there was so much blood we couldn’t tell where it was coming from or who it belonged to.”
“So what happened?”
“My ex… he said Curt swung first, and Curt said it was self defense.” She refused to meet his gaze, afraid of what he’d really think when she told him how Curt was eventually released from the police station.
“So what happened?” He tipped her chin up, waiting for her to finish the story. “Val?”
“I.. well, I told the police that Curt swung to protect me, and they let him go and held my ex another night.”
“Well, Curt did protect you.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. I lied to the police.”
“He protected you; there’s nothing more to it and nothing wrong with it.”
“It feels strange… with him not here.” She confessed, scooting closer to Everett.
“Different than when he ended up in Scotland for a few days?”
“Much different. It feels lonely… like my best friend decided he wanted to walk home from Germany.”
“Well, your best friend is also a pain in the ass.”
“He is…”
“You have all of us, and you have me.”
“Thank you…”
“You’ll always have me, I promise.”
“You have me too, you know? I don’t know what you see up there but, down here? You have me, Everett.”
“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he pulled her in for a kiss, lips covering hers softly as they both let go of a deep rooted sigh, weight that felt heavy until it dissipated into the room. “Hmm, wait I almost forgot your present!”
“My present?”
“You asked me to bring you something back, remember?”
Untangling himself from her for a moment, he hopped off the bed and to the few things he had brought with him to the Red Cross hut. Rifling around, he pulled a small package from the pocket of his jacket before joining her back on the bed. Smiling softly, he handed it over; carefully wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, hiding it from view. His smile grew as Val’s did.
“I got it in Marrakech,” he explained, watching as she carefully untied the ribbon before unwrapping the paper. “It just…”
“Perfume?” Her eyes lit up, green orbs wide with excitement. No one had ever gifted her perfume before. “Really?”
“The woman who ran the stall at the market didn’t speak English,” Ev watched her as she turned the small bottle over in her hands before removing the cap and raising it to her nose. “I showed her your picture, and she picked that one.”
It wasn’t fancy like the bottles on Fifth Avenue; it wasn’t carefully crafted crystal and it didn’t have the atomizer attached to it so she could spritz it wherever she pleased, but it was perfect.
“I love it…”
“She let me smell it before I paid her for it. It was like you were right there with me.”
Carefully, she placed the bottle down on her side table, mindful of how close to the edge it was, before she turned back to him. Softly, gently, Val climbed into his lap, like a kitten seeking shelter, except this time it was in the form of affection. Wrapping her arms around him, fingers carding through his messy curls, she guided him closer, closer, until finally, her lips were a single breath from his.
“Thank you,” pressing her lips to his softly, she felt his arms wind around her, sliding up until one rested between her shoulder blades, pulling her closer. “Thank you for loving me the way that you do.”
“Thank you for letting me.”
Nothing else is said between them. Nothing else needs to be said; it’s just two people together, finding a moment of happiness under an otherwise bleak sky, and allowing that happiness to become the focal point of the moment. Everett’s lips find Val’s again, softly, tenderly expressing just how much he loves her, and how appreciative he is that he gets to love her the way he does. She’s still perched in his lap, her legs on either side of him as her fingers rake through his hair and down his shoulders while his mouth travels down her jaw until he finds the spot on her neck that makes her weak.
“Ev… that feels nice…”
“Lie back for me, yeah?” He maneuvers them until she’s on her back, her legs immediately making space for him to slot his hips against hers before she uses her knees to bring him closer. “There we go…”
He continues his assault on her exposed skin, lips and teeth gently nipping at her pulse point before continuing on their journey to the next available spot, careful not to leave any marks where someone could see them while she was in her uniform. Reaching the column of her throat, he let his teeth gently drag down her skin, his lips soothing the light sting until he reached her clavicle. He pressed his nose against her, inhaling her scent to commit her to memory, even though she was right here, in his arms, pressed against him.
She tries to find herself, but she’s fully immersed in the feeling of being so close to Everett; pressed together with nothing but their uniforms between them, that she can do nothing more than let him kiss over every exposed bit of skin he can find. Her hands are fumbling with his shirt, the buttons slipping between her fingers every time she tries to get them open, and what begins as a frustrated groan gives way to a rough moan as his hands skim up over her ribs to gently cup her chest over her blouse.
The hand that had been gripping his shirt cups his cheek and gently tilts his face back to hers. His eyes are wild as he takes in the sight of her panting beneath him, both still clothed, both with a decision to make. She leans up to meet him, lips finding him as she does everything she can to convey exactly what it is she wants without speaking a word. She’s not sure she could say it out loud, but what she wants and what she needs are now one in the same. Please she begs internally, lips moving against his, still pressing, fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt once more as the buttons finally cooperate. Please her mind screams for only her to hear, when he breaks their kiss, forehead dropping to her own.
“Yeah?” He’s breathing heavy, the warmth of it fanning across her cheek.
“Please,” she’s whining, pressing herself closer to him, her hands running up the hard planes of his covered chest . “Everett, please…”
“Okay,” kissing her again, he smooths a hand over her mused curls, the other still precariously settled on her breast. “Let me think for a minute.”
The hut is filled with the sounds of their breathing, when Ev’s gaze snaps to the door, something catching his attention.
“What is it?”
“Someone’s outside…” Moving off the bed, he heads towards the door; swinging it open, she sees his body sag in relief before she hears his next words.
“Doug!”
“Uh, yeah?” Dougie’s voice is far away and strained, and Val only has to half imagine the picture that Ev was greeted with.
“Jesus Christ, thought you were Red.”
“Why would Red be out here?”
“He’s always out here…”
“Eyes in his ass,” she hears Doug grumble. “What’s up?”
“Trade you that jeep for an empty hut?” Ev poses the question carefully, and Val doesn’t even need to stop and think before she’s climbing from her bed and making her way to grab her shoes and jacket.
The jingle of keys is heard as Doug tosses them to Everett, and as she exits the hut she finds Olive in a similar state to her own- hair mused and lipstick smudged, a lazy smile on her face as she vacates the seat she’s in for Val.
“Be safe, yeah?” She gives her hand a squeeze as they pass each other.
“You too, English.” She winks before climbing into the passenger seat of the jeep just as Ev comes around to the driver side.
“Ready?” He turns to her, a cigarette smoking from between his lips.
Nodding, she takes it from him, bringing it to her own lips and taking a long inhale, the smoke swirling around her making her look almost ethereal. That’s all the answer he needs as he turns the key in the ignition and presses down on the gas. Even though it’s August, she pulls her jacket just a bit tighter around her between the cool English air and the breeze from the jeep.
She doesn’t need to ask; Val knows where they’re going. The shadow of Just A Snappin comes into view, the headlights illuminating the nose of her, making her look like a ghost in the night as she sits on her hardstand. Everett’s other girl, the first place he had taken her to be alone, the one place she knew she’d be safest with him aside from the Red Cross hut.
All too quickly they’re parked and the engine is off, the headlights going out and shrouding them in the cover of the moon. Everett jumps from the driver's side and quickly comes around to her side, his hands quickly finding hers as he helps her down. For a moment, they don’t move. Her gaze is fixed on him, on the gentle way he looks at her, on the feeling of his hands enclosed around her own. The fort isn’t looming over them; there’s no Thorpe Abbotts, no war, just a boy and a girl standing under the cover of the moonlight.
“C’mere…” Everett tugs her closer, wrapping her up in the safety of his arms.
He simply holds her a moment, quiet and comfortable, until he’s tilting her face up to his and lowering his lips to hers. This kiss is heated. It’s everything that they can’t say, words that are trapped behind feelings that are doing all the talking as Ev Blakely maps a path from Val’s lips to her throat until she’s pressed up against the jeep, still radiating warmth from the engine running, but not enough to burn, as he carefully picks her up and places her upon the hood.
“Everett…”
“I’m here,” his face is buried in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his fingers digging into her hips as he continues to lavish her in affection. “I’m right here.”
“Everett please,” he’s barely touched her and the words are coming out in broken moans and pleas for more.
“Please, what, baby? You have to tell me what it is you want.”
“You…” to her own ears it sounds whiny and petulant, but he stops and brings his face level with her own, just barely aware of her right leg wrapping around his hips to draw him closer.
“Val, honey are you sure?”
“Yes,” her green eyes are wide, hand cupping his face as she nods in confirmation. “I’ve never been more sure.”
“The cockpit isn’t big enough…”
“What about-”
“Not out here on the jeep either.” He stops her before she can even suggest it.
She’s about to reply when his eyebrows shoot up, a smile on his face as he picks her up from her perch and begins walking them towards the fort. As they get closer, Val can see flak holes in the wings, and dents along the nose and body, and she holds onto Everett just a bit tighter knowing that it’s a miracle he made it back. The hatch is open and of course the stairs are nowhere to be found, but they’ve mastered this by now, and she gives a single nod before he’s hoisting her off the ground and through the hatch. She quickly rights herself and steps aside, waiting for him to swing into the small space and join her.
“Come on…”
Taking his outstretched hand, she allows him to lead her down the body of the plane, carefully avoiding where he tells her not to step, until suddenly there’s light filtering in.
They’re in the nose of Just A Snappin.
“This way, we have some light, and some space.”
“It’s roomier than the cockpit,” she turns to him, her hands resting on his arms. “Why didn’t we come here the first time you took me up?”
“Didn’t think of it. Plus, I wanted to show you my favorite spot.”
“And now?”
“Now, you look beautiful and I just want to kiss you again.”
“Just kiss me?”
“We’re going slow baby,” his lips brush carefully against her cheekbone, across the bridge of her nose, and settle on her other cheek. “I want to take my time loving you.”
Stepping back a fraction, Everett shrugs out of his flight jacket and lays it out on the floor before gently guiding Val to lay back on it. Once he’s sure she’s comfortable -as comfortable as she’s going to get laying in the nose of a B-17- he joins her. He’s next to her, one leg slotted between hers as he pulls her flush against him, his hands knotted in her hair and lips crushed against her so hard she’s sure they’ll be bruised in the morning.
She takes a fist full of his shirt and tugs him closer, shifting to her back and pulling him on top of her. The full weight of Everett Blakely against her body sends her into a frenzy, goosebumps erupting across her skin as she feels his hips press into hers just so. Her fingers resume their job from earlier, button after button until she gets to the waist of his slacks, his shirt disappearing behind his belt. She’s so focused on getting him out of his shirt that she barely notices that his lips are following the path of every button he’s opening on her own shirt.
“Shouldn’t I be undressing you first?” He breaks his kisses for a moment, sucking in air as fast as his lungs will let him, eyes finding hers.
“Is there a rule book?” She grins, bottom lip fitting snugly between her teeth.
“No but,” he’s distracted as her hands push the shirt from his shoulders, her nails tickling the skin of his bare arms. “I want to take care of you.”
“You are taking care of me.”
“You know what I mean, baby…”
“Can you show me?” She poses the question lightly, her hands finding his chest and resting just over where his heart is hammering against his ribs. “Show me how you take care of me, Everett.”
Even in the moonlight, under the cover of the plexiglass nose, she can see his eyes darken and turn hungry. He has the final button of her shirt open and the white blouse pulled off her before she can blink. His lips drag over the lines of her bra, nosing at the soft material shielding him from her sensitive flesh and then, his hand is on the clasp at her back and he’s pulling that from her body too.
“Look at you,” his hands are immediately on her, gently cupping her breasts, nose dragging along the soft lines of her, breathing her in. “God you’re beautiful. So beautiful…”
This was different from the last time she had bared herself to him. That night in the mess hall had been quick, fumbled hands and laughter between stolen kisses and bites of donuts. This was soft, serious, loving. This, she thought, was what it was supposed to be like. What being with someone she loves and who loves her, should feel like. Gentle reverence as his hands explore every little mark on her body, lips kissing the small imperfections she carried on her skin, reminding her that they were nothing more than moments in the past. The scars, the weight she carried from the past, remained there. This, now, was what mattered. The man whose lips were kissing down her sternum, nipping at the flesh of her stomach, over her navel, hands following and only stopping once he reached the top of her pants.
Val’s hands carded through the array of curls atop Everett’s head, her nails raking across his scalp before tugging only gently, but even that; that was enough to pull the most wonderful sound she had ever heard from the man whose lips were pressed to her stomach. His fingers were toying with the button on her uniform pants, lightly tickling her, his eyes searching for hers in the dim light.
“Can I…?”
“Yes…”
His fingers deftly popped the button, the zipper following, and then he was kissing a path lower as he gently tugged the navy blue garment from her hips, down her legs, and finally, it was somewhere with her blouse, jacket and bra. His hands were rough from hours of flying, but still traced intricate patterns from her ankle, up her calf, until he reached her knee. Then, his lips took over as his hands gently spread her legs wider, making room to accommodate for his shoulders, his right hand continued to draw lazily over her left leg, while he peppers kisses closer and closer to her center.
Once he reached the apex of her thighs, he stopped, and so did her gentle sigh of appreciation.
“S’okay?” His words were muffled, lips still pressed to her soft skin.
“Mhmm…”
“Is that a yes or a no? Val…”
“Yes,” she breathed out, the words barely more than a whisper. “More than okay.”
“Good,” she could feel him grin against her, and then suddenly he was nosing at her core, dropping open mouth kisses over her underwear. “Think we could get rid of these too?”
“Everett Blakely, if you don’t, I will!” She huffed, the response a breath of warmth as he laughed, face still nestled against her. The anticipation of him finally putting his mouth on her, was entirely too much to handle, and then...
“Oh my god… oh!”
His mouth; those lips that have kissed her hundreds of times, are closing softly over her, tasting her for the first time, licking gently as if to test how much she could stand, before fully diving in. Without wasting a single second longer, her hand is tightening in his hair, a fistful of those perfect locks, begging him without words to keep going. An echo of their very first time in Just A Snappin. Don’t stop.
“Baby…”
“Don't you dare stop, Everett!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned, peeking up at her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her thighs and pulling her closer. “Not when you taste this good.”
He’s on her again, tongue exploring all of her before diving in, devouring her in long strokes and sweet kisses, nose pressing against her clit in the most delicious sensation. Her head is spinning as he takes every bit of her that she’s willing to give- all of it- and treats her like a five course meal. The harder she pulls on his hair, the louder he gets, the vibrations of his mouth sending shivers through her at lightning speed. The hand that’s not making a mess of Everett’s hair is fisted in his jacket, the soft leather and shearling of his flight jacket a stark contrast to the feeling of his tongue, flat against her and licking from her slit to the hidden bundle of nerves nestled at the top, until his lips wrapped around her and began sucking.
“Everett… honey…”
Peering down at him, she found him nestled between her thighs, completely focused on her body laid out for him. His arms were still looped around her legs, his hands gripping so tightly she was positive he’d be leaving marks on her. Her hand that had been in his hair gently scratched down his scalp, lower until she could find one of his own, her fingers trying with all their might to hold onto him. She could feel the crest of the wave building, that familiar feeling taking hold of her as she tried her best to relax and let it happen. This was Everett, this was different, this was-
“What’s wrong?” His mouth was still pressed against her, words muffled, his eyes wide as he searched her face.
“What?”
“You’re so tense,” he pulled himself from her only long enough to slide back up her body, lips ghosting over hers. The taste of herself on him was enough to have her shivering. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” kissing him again, her hand cupping his jaw. “You did everything right.”
“It’s okay to let go. It’s just me and you, and I promise, I want you to. I want to hear every beautiful sound you make, Valencia…”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t you dare be sorry, just let me show you how much I love you. How much you deserve to be loved.”
Nodding, she kissed him again, pulling him as close as she could in order to convey just how much she loved him. How thankful she was that he chose to love her. How thankful she was that he chose that moment to drag his finger from her clit to her entrance; testing, teasing, before easing himself inside. When her breathing evened, he added a second.
“There we go,” he eased his fingers out gently before pushing them back in, the combination of his mouth previously on her, and her own arousal made it an easy task for him. “That’s it, relax for me baby.”
“That feels good…”
“Yeah?” He grinned, watching as her head dropped back farther as he pressed on her clit with his thumb. “Good, I want it to always feel good for you.”
“Please don’t stop,” she begged, her hand coming down to grab his wrist to stop him from pulling away. “Please… I’m- I’m…”
“It’s okay. Let go for me baby, let me hear how pretty you sound.”
She felt it wash over her without much warning, like the white noise when you get pulled under a wave and you’re searching for the surface. Except she wasn't drowning. Everett was working her through it, pulling her back to the surface even as his fingers never slowed, his lips nipping and kissing across her chest as her skin flushed pink. As he whispered how much he loved her as she let go of everything that made her scared, or lonely; everything from her past that no longer mattered finally dissolving around her.
“Hi…” he was leaning over her, fingers dancing up and across her stomach, wet with her release, yet she couldn’t seem to mind.
“Hi…”
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay.” she grinned, kissing him softly.
When he leaned back over her again, lips seeking out her own, she felt him pressed against her, the bulge in his pants hard against her hip as she shifted to get closer to him. She didn’t want this to end here, and she could only hope as she began undoing the belt and button, slowly pulling the zipper down, that Everett felt the same way.
“Baby…”
“You took such good care of me,” she whispered, kissing up his jaw and nipping his ear. “Can’t I do the same for you?”
“Don’t…” his breath caught as her hand slipped behind the barrier of his pants, fingers dancing over his length still covered by his underwear. “Don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“Obligated? To take care of you? Everett…”
She saw his eyes slip shut as her fingers dipped behind the elastic of his boxers. Heard his breathing change as she gently pushed both his boxers and pants down as far as she could reach before he had to take over the task. And then, he was kneeling in front of her, the full length of him exposed to her as he watched her. Watched as her eyes roamed all over his body. Watched as she knelt to join him, nothing but the moonlight to cover them.
“Gesù, grazie per questo amore e per quest'uomo.”
Jesus, thank you for this love and this man
Tentatively, she moved to touch him; red manicured nails gently dancing up and down the length of him before finally, she let the full weight of him rest in her hand. He was warm and hard, and the longer she let her hand move over him, the harder his breathing became until eventually his hands were buried in her hair and he was pulling her as close as he could get her. Lips pressed together, hard enough to leave a bruise, he spoke for only her and the night to hear.
“You,” his lips brushed across her nose. “Have had me since the moment I laid eyes on you…”
“I have?”
“Mhmm,” he grinned. “Will you let me love you?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” she grinned, wrinkling her nose in delight. “Please, Everett. Make love to me.”
Gently, he laid her back so she was resting against the warm inside of his flight jacket, kissed her quickly, and began rummaging for his pants.
“Inside pocket of my uniform jacket.”
“What?” He turned to her quickly, eyes wide in surprise as he tried to make sure that what he thought he heard was what he actually heard.
“There’s a rubber in my jacket pocket.” Val clarified, propping herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him.
“Why?” He laughed, retrieving the packet from his pants pocket.
“Tattie figured with you coming home…”
“So that means we have two?” He was grinning wildly as he rolled the condom down over his length.
“It does.” Val nodded, making room for him between her legs as he came to join her.
All of a sudden, the jokes were over, and the mood in the fort shifted to serious. They were on the edge of changing everything, and there was no one Val would rather take that next step with than the man in front of her.
“Ready?”
Nodding, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, lips saying everything she knew if she tried to say it would just come out jumbled. But somehow, Everett knew. He knew that she was ready. Knew that he was the one she wanted to do this with. And gently, he guided himself to her entrance and pressed inside.
“Oh!”
“Too much?”
“Oh goodness no. It feels so good,” her voice was caught on a moan as he pushed the rest of the way in, stopping only when he was fully sheathed in her warmth. “Everett…”
“Christ,” his voice was strained, forehead pressed into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “Baby you’re s-so tight.”
For a moment there was no movement; just their breathing, chests pressed together, bodies as close as they could possibly get them. Savoring in that first time, warm breaths over skin, lips peppering kisses, eyes taking it all in, until finally…
“Val, baby,” he’s gripping her hip, eyes squeezed shut trying to control himself. “I…shit, baby I need to move…”
“Please…” her voice is a soft moan as he pulls out, gently sliding back in before finding a steady rhythm.
“You feel so good…so good baby… just like I always knew you would…”
She’s unsure of how to reply to that, and more so, if she can even find it in her to form words at the moment. He’s working her body so good, the heavy drag of him against her walls as he pulls out, the fullness of each thrust inward, short circuiting her brain of anything other than Everett Blakely and his body covering hers.
When he hooks her knee up and around his waist, pulling her closer while somehow thrusting deeper, she's quickly digging her nails into his shoulder, perfect crescents forming over his skin, and crying out for him. She just barely registers that he’s hissing at the pleasure pain of her nails dragging down his arm, the hand that isn’t busy touching him is gripping the leather of his jacket with such force that if she tried she could rip the shearling from the inside without a second thought. His lips are dragging against her chest, teeth biting at her clavicle and the tops of her breasts, his breathing heavy as he continues to pump in and out of her.
“Everett…”
“What do you need pretty?” He’s panting, sweat damp curls sticking to his forehead as his eyes meet her gaze. “Tell me what you need.”
“Need more…please,” she’s dragging out the word, moaning as she holds his gaze. “I need more.”
“More what? Hmm?”
“You…”
“More of me? I’m right here baby, you’ve got all of me…”
Her next words are breathy, and almost inaudible, but she knows he hears her because his eyes get darker and his hips begin moving faster.
“Touch me Everett…”
His lips find hers at the same time his thumb finds her clit, and she feels like she could explode at any moment. But she’s not ready for it to be over, not nearly, no matter what her body is telling her and no matter how good she feels.
“I…oh god!”
She feels wound tight, like a spring, and knows it’s only a matter of seconds before she comes undone underneath him. Eyes screwed shut; she can feel his thumb rubbing tight circles against her, his lips on her neck, his warm breath against her as he groans into her skin.
“Val…” her name is a moan on Everett’s lips. Strained, but full of every other word she knows he wants to say.
“Everett…”
“Open your eyes for me baby. Let me see you,” he’s begging her, just as she’s begging him to bring her to the finish. “Please, I need to- I need to see you…”
It feels like it takes every ounce of energy not spent on the man currently loving her to pry her eyes open, but finally, she meets his gaze. His eyes, the hazel pools she loves so much, are blown wide, and his gaze is wild. They’re completely focused on each other, bodies moving together, and as Val slides her hand up his chest to the back of his neck, she’s positive that she can feel his heart pounding against his ribs as they press themselves infinitely closer.
“Everett, I’m so…”
“Let go,” he’s begging her, and she wondered, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Shouldn’t she be begging him to get her there? Except she is there, and he wants so badly to see her fall apart in his arms that he’s begging her for it. “I’ve got you, I promise.”
She comes with a cry, her body finally, finally, releasing every iota of energy that she had been wound so tight with. Her arms hold him tighter, body seizing and then she’s pliant in his grasp again, gasping for air as he works her through it, neither of them aware of the mess she’s made. His thrusts continue as she comes down, seeking his own finish, and just as he had for her, she knows he’s looking for her permission as well.
“It’s okay,” she’s whispering, lips pressed to his cheek, kissing the damp skin. “Everett, it’s okay. Let go honey.”
It took just her words for him to find his release, face buried in the crook of her neck, he comes with a groan, hips slowing until finally, he’s still. Buried inside her, she finds comfort in the methodical back and forth of her hand in his sweat damp curls, while he finds comfort in her arms.
Silence fills the fort once more, and they’re so still, that Val thinks that maybe Everett’s drifted off, sleeping as she holds him against her; but just as quickly as the thought comes it’s gone. She feels his lips pressing soft kisses against her neck, where his face is still pressed, breath fanning out warm against her.
“Mmm, there you are…” she’s grinning down at him as he lifts his head up, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Who else would I be with, hmm?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You and Doug spend an awful lot of time together.” She teases him, thumb soothing over his kiss bitten lips.
“He’s not my type,” he winks, and then gently pulls out of her, careful to remove the rubber without making a mess. “Too manly. I prefer curvy brunettes with long legs and Brooklyn accents.”
“Is that so?” She watches as he pulls his boxer shorts back on and begins rummaging around under the navigators desk, grumbling before coming back to join her.
“That is so,” he winks. “Damn, I thought we had a blanket under here somewhere. I don’t want you getting cold.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
She slips her arms into the sleeves of his flight jacket, pulling it around her body to protect her from the cold, and somehow she knows that it’ll be all Everett can picture the next time he puts it on for a mission.
Curling up next to him, their legs tangled together, Val finds peace in the dimly lit nose of the fort. There’s peace in his arms, and in the way his hands hold her body so close, so secure, as if she might break if he’s not careful. Peace, for the first time in hours.
“You alright?”
“Yeah… I am.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” she giggles, pressing her face against his bare chest. “I’m alright.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“God, no!”
“Just checking,” his large hands are tangled in her hair, the ends curling over and over as he runs his fingers through the messy strands. “I know it wasn’t the first time but-”
“It was the first time. Everett, it was our first time. It was perfect.”
“You’re perfect.”
“Far from it, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he sighed, tipping her face upwards, a furrow in his own brown to rival hers. “Curt would give you an earful if he heard you talking like that.”
“He always does,” she groaned, dropping her head back. “Always says to me gal, ya gotta stop making like you ain’t worth anything; I guess he’s right.”
“He is right,” Everett moved to lay back, pulling her on top of him. “I think you’re worth everything.”
“You’re just sweet talking.”
“Nope, I mean it. Look at you baby; you were brave enough to leave home and come all the way over here to serve coffee and donuts to a bunch of crass airmen, live in a drafty hut with three other girls, and then there’s doggy daycare almost every day.”
“Meatball is the easiest part of the job,” she laughed. “It’s you boys who keep us on our toes.”
“And here I thought I was well behaved…”
“Compared to most, you’re a saint.”
“So not a…what’s that word again?”
“Which word?”
“The one you call Curt when he’s acting up.”
“Oh, birichino.” She rolls the R so perfectly, it’s hard to remember that she’s actually American born, and not actually from Italy.
“Birichino… you might have to start teaching me Italian, sweetheart.”
“I think you’d be a good student,” leaning up, she finds his lips with ease. “Better than Curt that’s for sure.”
“He grew up hearing you talk, how does he not know it?”
“He only paid attention to the bad words.”
There’s a lull, the conversation coming to a natural standstill as Everett pulls her a fraction closer to his chest. His large hand slipping between her skin and the inside of the jacket, before settling on the small of her back. This, she thinks, is what love feels like. Contentment with the other person, no need to fill silence with small talk, no need to pretend. They could just be.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” she’s a bit surprised he asks, but acquiesces nonetheless. “You can tell me anything.”
“I was surprised when Curt all but told me to go after you that day. I thought…well, looking back I'm not sure what I thought, but it wasn’t that he would be the one to give me the okay.”
“You know, I’m still so surprised it was him who slipped you my cocktail order. I swore it was Helen and Tattie.”
“You looked like someone pulled the floor out from under you that night. And all I wanted to do was just sit with you. Know you, the girl behind the smile.”
“I was so afraid to let you in…” it’s an admission that she’s spent a good deal of time coming to grips with. How letting him in opened her up to the possibility of hurt all over again.
“You called me Captain for a week. From the day I landed until I got you on the dance floor.”
“I did… it was easier that way.”
“I understand. No one wants to get their heart broken, sweetheart. Least of all, someone who has a good one.”
“I wish I had met you sooner…”
She whispers that last sentence into his skin; lips pressed to his sternum, it’s an almost prayer that’s just for them. It’s Everett who breaks the silence once more, turning the conversation away from their past, and towards the present.
“I asked him,” he rolls his eyes a bit at the memory of that day. Fresh off the Bremen mission, both desperate for showers. “Why you and he never…”
“And what did he tell you?”
“That he loved you but not that way.”
“He’s right. I love him too, but not the way I love you.”
“And how do you love me?” There’s a twinkle in his eye, one that gives way to that extra rubber sitting in her jacket pocket, and the fact that she can feel him growing hard underneath her. “Show me baby… show me how good you love me.”
Sitting up in his lap, she tests the waters with a roll of her hips and feels him immediately grab her thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin. He lets loose a groan that echoes off the walls of the fort, and she knows now, that it’s her turn to take him apart from the inside out with slow and careful hands.
—————————————————-—————————————————
The jeep comes to a stop in the same place it started, outside the Red Cross hut. Val turns to Everett and without saying anything, tilts her head in the direction of the door, silently asking him to stay the night. She knows she doesn’t have to explain why, so when he comes around to her side of the jeep once more to help her out, and they walk hand in hand to the door, she knows he understood.
He takes a final drag of his cigarette before tossing it into the makeshift ashtray —a bucket with sand outside the door— and then he’s guiding her inside, stopping short at the threshold with a shout.
“Jesus Christ! Doug!”
“Hmm? What!”
“Put your pants on!”
“Oh!”
“Not even your hut…” Ev shakes his head, one hand on the door frame and the other holding her behind his back.
“I don’t think it’s yours either pal,” Dougie grumbles, and from behind Everett’s back, Val can hear him shuffling around. “Would it kill you to knock?”
“I’m with Val, why would I knock?”
“You left Ollie and I here when you…wait, where did you go?”
“Uhm, can you two finish this conversation inside?” Val pipes up from her spot behind Ev. “I’d like to get ready for bed.”
“Oh! Yeah sure come on in!” Doug exclaims, and she can only roll her eyes at being invited into her own hut.
She quickly skirts underneath Ev’s arm that’s still seemingly holding the place up, and makes for her locker to grab her things. Her night clothes are folded behind her pillow, and after grabbing those, she doubles back to Everett.
“I’m going to wash up. I’ll be right back.”
“Should I…”
“Get comfy,” she grins. “Just, not as comfy as Doug, please?”
“Right… can I hang my uniform up in your locker?”
“Of course. There’s a hanger in there, go ahead honey, use whatever you need.”
Leaving him by her bunk with Doug, she heads for the washroom, knocking on the door to let Olive know it’s her.
“Ol, it’s me, can I come in chickie?”
“Oh! Yeah come on then!”
Just as she shuts the door she hears Doug grumble about how she has manners for knocking but Ev doesn’t.
“Did you?!” Olive turns to her with wide eyes just as Val opens her mouth to ask her the exact same question.
“Yes!”
“Oh my god, how was it?”
“Ol, it was… I don’t know if I have the words. I’ve never felt like that before…”
“Wait, where did you two go?”
“The fort.” Val feels her cheeks heating up at the mere memory of it, just thinking about it made her insides turn in excitement.
“The fort? How! You said the cockpit was too cramped for any of that!”
“The nose!”
“The nose?!” Olive crows, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.
On the other side of the door, they hear Doug complaining that his seat in the fort has been tainted and how they better have cleaned up!
“How was it for you?”
“Val, he’s as talkative in bed as he is out of it.”
“Somehow, I don’t doubt it,” she giggles, joining Olive at the sink to begin applying her cold cream.
“The things he was saying,” now it’s Olive’s turn to blush at the memory. “Goodness me!”
“Did he finally tell you he loves you?”
“Yes! Earlier out in the jeep after I told him, well, everything.”
“You told him!”
“Yes… I’m going to have to go check on Pearl in the morning but, can you tell Ev?”
“You want me to tell him?”
“Honestly, I think he needs to hear it from you,” she shakes her head, fights with her headscarf for a moment, and finally relents. “He’ll take you seriously.”
Val busies herself with fixing Olive’s scarf. Tucking her curls under the smooth fabric for a good night's sleep before she speaks.
“I told Ev…”
“About? Oh!” Realization dawns on Olive’s face. “Oh chicken! What did he say?”
“He listened, and he loved me through it. Ol, it feels so good to have it off my chest.”
“So you feel better?”
“I’m still… I don’t think I’ll feel completely better until I know for certain that Curt is alive, but, I do feel better than I did this morning.”
“Good… you’ll get there, and we’ll be here.”
“Thanks Ol. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”
“Let’s not find out, hmm?”
“Hey! Do you two ever sleep?!”
Dougie’s voice echoes through the hut, and the serious moment is over just as quickly as it happened. Val tilts her head towards the door, and both girls emerge in their night clothes, eyes twinkling at their men waiting for them in their respective beds.
“I do,” Val grins, hanging her uniform up next to Everett’s in her locker. “It’s the British one you need to keep an eye on.”
“Yes well, I’ll try and be better about it.” Olive titters, sticking her tongue out at Val before sliding into her bed next to Doug, who’s patting the space next to him with a wide grin on his face.
“God, look at the state of him,” Ev shakes his head at his friend, lifting back the covers on Val’s bed so she can easily slide in with him. “You’d think it’s his first sleepover.”
“First one with her, though, honey.” Val grins knowingly, fitting herself against him so that they can both be comfortable.
“Okay, good point,” he concedes, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “You have enough room?”
“Even when it’s just me in here I don’t have enough room so, don’t take it personal.”
“Okay,” he chuckles, wraps her up in his arms and finally settles back against the pillows with a sigh. “Hey, I’m here okay? Not going anywhere.”
“I know,” her voice is quiet so as not to disturb Olive and Doug in the next bed. “I love you, Ev.”
“I love you too, Val.”
She closes her eyes, breathes him in, and is vaguely aware of Doug and Olive exchanging the same sentiment in their bed. All she needs right now is in bed with her, and in the room around them.
“Hey! What about Helen and Tattie!”
“Go to sleep, Doug.”
“Okay.”
——————————————————-————————————————
The sound of the jeep starting outside and the engine purring to life as it pulls away from the hut rouses Val from her sleep. She cracks an eye open, head barely coming off the pillow to check and see who’s in the hut and realizes that Olive and Doug are gone. Helen’s bed is untouched, and Tattie’s covers are pulled up haphazardly. Turning over she comes face to face with Everett, eyes still filled with sleep and grinning lazily down at her.
“Hey, you alright?”
“Mhm, the jeep woke me up.”
“He took her to see the sun come up?”
“No…”
“The truck?”
“No, she has to go check on Pearl.”
“He took her to see her grandmother?”
“Yeah…”
“So the hut’s empty?” He’s nuzzling into her shoulder, day old stubble scratching deliciously at her skin, lips dragging over her pulse point.
“Hmm yeah.”
“Perfect…”
“I need to talk to you first.”
“So talk; I’m listening.”
“Everett, I’m serious.”
“And I’m seriously listening,” He lifts his head from where he was currently snuggling her; Hazel eyes gleaming and a cheeky grin on his face. “Oh, you’re serious serious.”
She takes a deep breath, turns Everett’s wrist over so that she can check the time on his watch, and realizes that it’s pushing six in the morning. She could either tell him everything now, as Olive asked her to last night, or she could enjoy a few moments of quiet in the empty hut with him. Judging by the way he was looking at her, she knew she’d have to tell him now.
“You have to promise you’ll listen until I’m done, okay?”
“You’re scaring me…”
“It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
“Is it about last night?”
“No,” she sits up, bringing the sheet to her chest before curling under his arm as he sits up with her. “It’s about Olive.”
“Olive?”
“Mhmm, now, this is the part where you hold all questions till the end.”
With a deep breath, she’s telling him what Olive told her a week ago. About the prop fort and how it’s connected to the Just A Snappin on the hardstand —what’s a prop fort and why does it have our name on it?— to the sounds of meatball barking, and most importantly, the seventy year time difference between her home and theirs. She explains that Olive has been going back and forth between 1943 and 2021 which is why she’s not properly sleeping —you mean she goes back when we all go to bed?— and that she finally broke down and told the girls on the night the boys had all left for Africa.
“I…wait…no, Val this makes no sense.”
“It makes so much sense, Everett. She’s always struggling with her hair, and when she got here she had no clothes. She’s slowly been bringing things back with her on every trip to Pearls.”
“Jesus… Does Doug know!?”
“She told him last night.”
“Okay…okay that’s good…”
“She showed us her phone-”
“She carries a phone with her?! No wonder her back always hurts!”
“No, Ev,” she laughs at the image of Olive lugging a rotary around with her. “It’s so small, it fits in her pocket!”
“She’s pulling your leg, baby.”
“No! I swear! Ask her when she comes back!”
“A phone in her pocket… what else does she keep in her pocket?”
“It plays music too, and takes photos!”
“When is she coming back?”
“That’s the thing,” Val sighs. “I don’t know. Time is, well she says it moves differently between the future and now.”
“Hey, don’t worry, she’ll be back.”
“I already lost one best friend. I couldn’t stand to lose another.”
“You won’t lose her,” he pulls her closer, rubbing her back to try and reassure her. “Now come on; let’s get dressed and go find Dougie.”
It takes them three tries to get out of bed before finally, the beginnings of a headache from skipping dinner the night before start to hit them both. With the promise of coffee, they quickly clean up and dress before heading out the door.
The base is alive; and every time someone sees Val they stop and offer her a sympathetic smile. She just spies Helen and Tattie in the window of the truck as they get closer, Meatball tied to the pole on guard duty, all three perking up as they see her approach.
“Val!”
“Oh honey; are you okay?”
“I’m okay, really, Helen.”
“Chicky was here earlier,” she half groaned. “He wanted to check on you.”
“He’s still on my shit list,” she rolled her eyes and quickly entered the truck to prepare coffee for her and Ev. “Him and Red. I was in his office for a week and he just…oh he’s such a grouch!”
“He wanted to apologize…”
“Well, I’ll stop by when I feel like it,” she replied, sticking her head out the window. “Ev, breakfast?”
“Please, I’m starving.”
She quickly prepares his coffee, and one for Doug, before tossing a handful of sinkers into a paper bag for the three of them. Turning, she finds Tattie waiting for her with a smile on her face.
“Yes?”
“Good night?”
“Could ask you the same thing, Spaatz.”
“Yeah… a good night.”
“Good,” Val grins. “Dougie is waiting for Ol out by the hardstand, she had to check on Pearl-”
“He knows?”
“They both know.”
“Oh thank god! I’m not sure I could keep that a secret much longer.”
“So, we’re going to bring him coffee, check on him, because I’m sure that if I’m worried he’s ten times as worried.”
“Go on, boys are all grounded today, so do what you need to.”
“Thank you…”
“Are you…uhm, well, are you going to write to Curt’s mother?”
“Soon, yes… but, let’s see how long it takes for him to send proof of life before I send her into hysterics.”
“Whatever you need to do, you do it, okay?”
“Thank you Tat.”
“Now go on, before those coffees get cold and the grease soaks through the bag.”
She leaves Val with a wink; one that says that she’ll always be in her corner. That she’d go to bat for her if she had to. And she believes it.
By the time they get down to the hardstand, Kenny only has to nod his head in the direction of the jeep that Doug is still sitting in, and they both know he’s been anxiously perched there since this morning.
“Doug?”
“Oh! Hey!”
“Brought you some coffee and some breakfast…” Ev hands over the cup, while Val perches herself in the seat next to Dougie.
“Thanks pal,” he smiles gratefully but Val can see it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ollie, she…she went to check on Pearl. But she’s coming back. She said she’d be right back… that was a half hour ago.”
“She’ll be back,” Val reassures him, pulling one of the donuts from the bag for him. “Now come on, let’s have breakfast. I’m starving.”
Dougie just watches her as she takes a bite of the donut she pulled from the bag for herself, and when she winks at him, smiling around her food, he smiles back before digging into his own food. The three of them sit quietly, the sounds of the ground crew working around them, until Doug turns to Val.
“Are you…Val I’m sorry…”
“What for?”
“It was so bad, and I tried to keep an eye on things, but I couldn’t see Curt.”
“It’s not your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“His squad, they ended up joining up with us, but he was behind us, I didn’t have eyes on him.”
“Doug…”
“I’ll fill in, ya know? Till he gets back, I’ll fill in as the thorn in your side.”
“You’re not a thorn in my side, James Douglass. You’re my friend, and I love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes! What would ever make you think otherwise?”
“Not sure, really… you have Curt, and then you and DeMarco have the Italian thing going… I just figured…”
“What? You figured you’re my boyfriend's best friend, and I was just okay with you hanging around?”
“Kind of?”
“I should give you a smack,” she sighed, pulling him into a hug. “But it’s been a rough week, and we’re both going through it. Don’t you ever say that ever again.”
“I love you too, ya know?”
“Good- I don’t have any siblings. It took this damn war for me to find my brothers.”
“I don’t either… Dad died when I was young. So it was always just me and Ma.”
“Mine too,” she nodded, dropping her head to his shoulder as they watched the fort for any signs of Olive. “It was just me and Mama.”
“Not just us anymore is it?”
“No, we found a family, Dougie and I intend to fight to keep it together.”
Behind them, Ev sat looking on as his best friend and his best girl solidified their friendship. There was something to be said about it, their loss and pain made them siblings, and that’s something he’d protect and be grateful for forever.
“Oh fuck sake!”
All three heads snapped up at the sound of the hatch of Just A Snappin flying open, clanging against the belly of the fort, and then a single leg dangling from the open door.
“Wink! Get those stairs!” Kenny hollered, running over to the fort. Dougie is right on his heels, desperate to check and make sure she’s arrived back in one piece, while Ev and Val hang back in the jeep.
Ev slides up into the seat Doug was previously occupying, throwing his arm over Val’s shoulder and pulling her close.
“Feel better now that she’s back?”
“Much,” she sighed, bringing her coffee cup to her lips. “Looks like she brought more stuff…”
“Looks like she’s moving in.”
“Good,” Val grins knowingly as she watches Dougie hold Olive close. “There’s nowhere else she should be.”
Val clambers from the jeep, coffee forgotten, as Olive approaches; throwing her arms around her friend and hugging her tightly.
“Now I’m terrified it’ll be you who doesn’t come back!”
“Couldn’t keep me away if you tried,” Olive pulled back to fix her with a smile. “You’re my family. We’re for keeps, Brooklyn.”
“For keeps, English.” Val agrees, smiling back at her.
Olive turns towards Ev, who’s given the girls a moment before joining their group, and Val realizes they’re both regarding each other cautiously.
“Ernest… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…”
“Val told me,” he nodded, taking one of the bags from her to lighten the load. “There’s a lot I don’t get but, I know you belong here. That’s enough for me, Maude.”
“I brought snacks…” Olive offers up a container with the lid already off, and Val can see that Dougie has already gotten his hands on them. “Homemade jam tarts!”
“You’re forgiven,” Ev winks, snatching up two. “What? One’s for Val!”
“What’d you bring back, chickie?”
“Oh! These are for later, some records for the gramophone!”
“Who’s…Dean Martin?” Dougie peeks into the bag, mouth full of food.
“You’ll love him,” Olive grins. “Oh close your mouth lovie, you’re making crumbs.”
“Yeah lovie, you’re making crumbs.” Ev teases, elbowing his friend.
“Alright you two, let’s get this stuff back to the hut and out of sight, and then Olive and I have some work to do.”
“What work? We’re grounded today…”
“Someone still has to feed you boys.”
Climbing back into the jeep, they head for the Red Cross hut, Ev up front with Doug and the girls in the back with Olive’s belongings. Both men knowing that they need a moment to check on each other, leave them to chatter quietly while they make the drive back.
“Hey, no one brought me a coffee?” Olive looks around at them as they come to a stop.
“Didn’t think you were coming home,” Ev winked, pulling his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket. “Tired of ya!”
“You sound like Chicky.” Val groaned.
“Tired of you too, Ernest, but not that tired.” Plucking the cigarette from him, Olive takes off just before he can light it, Val hot on her heels.
“Olive!”
“Payback for forgetting my coffee!” She titters as she enters the hut.
Val can just hear the smile in his voice as he complains to Doug that he joined the Air Force to escape his four sisters back home only to end up with another in England.
——————————————————————————————————
“Tattie, help me with this thing!”
“Olive, you came home with all these records but you can’t work the gramophone?”
“It’s different from Pearl’s, now come on, I promised Dougie and Ev some music!”
“Okay, okay, what are we playing first?”
Val watched from her perch on her bed, Ev sitting behind her, the two snuggled against the headboard, as Olive and Tattie argued over which record to start with. Finally, it seemed that Helen was the deciding factor, because the man on the record sleeve was handsome and she wanted to know if he sang as good as he looked.
“So, this is future music?” Ev murmured in her ear.
“It is,” Val nodded, leaning back into his chest. “It’s a lot less…hmm, aggressive, that what she played for us last week.”
“This guy’s not half bad. Hey Maude! What’s this fella’s name?”
“Dean Martin!”
“I like it,” he nodded, lighting a cigarette. “He’s got a decent voice.”
Olive's response is cut short by Dougie taking her in his arms and swaying her with the music. He’s a bit off balance and unsure of the more modern sound, but he’s having fun, and Val can’t help but smile as she watches her friends enjoying themselves. Helen and Tattie are dancing with each other, and it reminds her of the night Olive first told them her secret, the four of them dancing in their hut, proper girls, nothing but happiness.
“You okay sweetheart?”
“Hmm? Yeah, just thinking.”
“Penny for em?”
“That first night, when you boys were gone. Olive played music for us and the four of us just danced and danced. I don’t even know if we were dancing right, but I didn’t want to stop.”
“Sounds like fun…”
“It was…”
“Do you want to dance now?”
“No,” she laced her fingers with his and held on. “No I’m having too much fun watching Dougie do whatever it is he’s doing.” She laughs, the sound growing louder and her smile growing wider, the sound of it filling the hut along with the music.
“Oh! There she is!” Olive beams, bounding over to the bed and hugging her. “Good to have you back migliore amico.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“Benny.” Olive beams at her.
“I’ll have to thank him, best friend.”
Olive grins again and plants a kiss to Val’s cheek before moving back to Dougie who’s still dancing by himself, but twirling Helen and Tattie respectively on each arm. She feels safe, in the arms of Everett, surrounded by her friends -family- with endless possibilities ahead. She lets her mind wander to Curt, to the photo on her night table, her rosary next to it, praying he’s as safe as she feels. That he’s not hurt, or cold, or hungry. That somehow, he’s making his way back to them. She wants more nights out on the hardstand with him and Dickie, their friends, and the dog. More laughter. He needs to be part of this. And so, she prays. For the people in the room with her and not in the room.
Santa Maria, please, bring them home to us.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!
