Just A Small Diversion?
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" Ron snapped and I rolled my eyes, holding my sleeved hand over my stomach. I wasn't in the mood for his yelling at me; Taylor was wounded, Hall was out for blood, all of the other NCOs were out for blood and if they got their hands on whoever shot Chuck, I'm sure there would be, plenty of it.
"I'm fine, the baby's fine. We're all fine." I snapped back at him, glaring at him as he drove. I don't know whether he'd softened up or if I was a special case, but I was the only one who could ever talk to Ronald Spiers like that.
"I'm not." Taylor piped up from behind us.
"Alright, we're all fine, except for Taylor."
"Cyka, I shoulda shot that blyat when I had the chance!" She groaned as we went over a bump. "If I see him again, I'm gonna shoot him!"
Pulling up to the front of HQ, Gene and Ron helped her out of the jeep, then Ron and I went into the foyer, with O'Keefe telling us that they'd found the fucker who shot my sister and my friend. Ron yelled out, asking where the SOB was, ignoring Tab and George when they asked about Chuck.
"He's going to live." I replied for him. "George, can you go outside and help Gene, he's trying to argue with Taylor about walking up to her room."
"Yes ma'am."
I went to Ron's side, as he watched the other NCOs beating the man in the chair and once again, I spoke for him.
"HALL, KNOCK IT OFF!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, throwing the doors to the room open. "Joe, get him out of here. NOW! His wife's outside being a pain in the arse." I waited until the two of them had gone, to lay into the rest of them. "You fucking morons; how is she supposed to ID him now? Miller, get me water an' a cloth. Heffron, you had one fucking job." Miller quickly came back from somewhere with a bowl of water and a cloth. "Randleman, Perconte, hold him still while I clean him up."
I wasn't more than two feet away, when the idiot kicked at me, knocking the bowl out of my hands. He didn't hit me, I was sure of that, but I jumped back, protectively clutching my stomach as I bumped my back into the dresser behind me. Over by the fire place, where my husband had been watching it all go on, a switch was suddenly flipped and he lunged for the guy, but a shot and a scream from the guy put a stop to everything. The kid carried on screaming and yelling as blood poured from a wound in his ankle and I looked around, finding my sister being held up by her fiancé and her ex-boyfriend, but with a pistol in her hand, like something out of a Die Hard movie. I'd have laughed if I wasn't so shocked and worried about my baby.
"I told you I'd shoot that mother fucker." Tay's voice dripped with venom as she glared at him. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I replied, watching the replacement as Bull and Frank beat him again and Don came to my side.
"Are you okay?" She asked again and I knew she wasn't just asking about me.
"He got the bowl, not the baby; we're fine." I replied, feeling Don's eyes on me. Fucking hell, don't tell me he understood that. "You." I glowered at the replacement, the room suddenly feeling chilly. "May Odin's ravens pluck out your eyes and feast on them." I nodded to the others, telling them to throw him to the MPs. "Taylor, we talked about this; don't shoot the prisoners."
"Hey, at least I warned you." She groaned as Joe and Hall helped her limp towards the lifts to go to her room. "Goddamn my fucking leg! How am I supposed to get hitched now?" I listened to her complain as she went off. I noticed Gene was looking at me and I rolled my eyes.
"In the name of Odin, make it quick will ya? I'm tired." Now I complained as I followed Gene through the halls and up to my room. He pressed on my stomach in silence, then looked at the bruise on my hip. I sighed, pulling my vest down and wrapping my cardigan around me, just as Don walked in.
"You need to take it easy. I don't wanna see you wandering around for at least the next few days. You're on bedrest, like Roebuck." He scolded. I opened my mouth to argue, but the icy glare I got from Don shut me up.
I didn't really want him to leave, knowing that I was going to catch hell from my husband as soon as he was out the door.
"Ailith." He was absolutely fuming. I glanced up at him from the bed, before deciding that it was safer to look at the floor. "How could you be so fucking stupid?!" He yelled and I flinched. "You couldn't even tell me? Your own damn husband? How could you keep something like that from me?"
I knew he'd be mad, what man wouldn't be? His wife, who'd been shot and almost died and had serious separation anxiety issues over, was pregnant and he only found out after someone had almost kicked her in the stomach. He'd lost his friends, his best friends, and now had to go through the blind panic of maybe losing his first child. I clutched my bump, tears pricking my eyes and sniffing.
"Look at your stomach! How long did you know? Weeks? Months? When were you even going to tell me?" Don gave me an accusatory glare. I mumbled an answer. "Two days?"
"Today." I looked up at him, tears running down my face. "I swear, I didn't know, I had no idea Donald, I promise. You can ask Taylor, we went to the doctors two days ago and that's when I found out…I'm sorry."
All of the fury seemed to slowly ebb out of him and he kneeled down in front of me.
"Ailith, I almost lost you once. Now you're…that baby, isn't just your baby, it's my baby too." He spoke softly, stroking my cheeks. "I can't lose either of you; you promised me that you'd be careful."
"I wanted to tell you on our Anniversary, a surprise for you…but I didn't know…and then I got scared, because I didn't know if you'd feel ready for it. I just wanted for you to be happy, but…but the baby's due in January and I know how much you hate the winter months…"
Don sighed and took my face in his hands. "Baby, I love you and I love our baby; it'll give me one happy memory for January. Our baby is coming in January and I'll be all the happier for it." He smiled, kissing me and pulled away with a silly grin on his face. "I'm gonna be a dad."
"Yeah, yeah you are." I grinned, almost giddy now. "You're sure you still love me?"
"I'd be surer if I can look at my baby."
"I'm pale, not see through; how're you going to see him?" I asked with a laugh and got to my feet, Don's hands gently gripping my hips. He gave me a curious look and asked how I knew it was a boy. "Skip told me. I had a dream and he told me." Don knew me better than to argue with me and my dreams and feelings; so many times they'd proved right, if I said don't do it or don't go, the others usually didn't. I yawned, tired from crying, being shouted at and worrying over my friends. I changed out of my trousers and put my shorts back on, ready to go back to bed. Don got to his feet too and swept me up into his arms like a princess, laying me gently on the bed, curling up beside me, his head on my chest.
"Is it okay if I feel it?" He asked, looking at my bump. I giggled, reminding him that it was our son, not just mine and he could fuss away to his heart's content. I wiggled my vest up, exposing my stomach and watching as Don's face lit up. My heart raced; I hadn't seen that smile since before Bastogne. He almost looked brand new.
"I've got a name for him." I told him, after he'd seemed to have zoned out. He hummed an oh really, but didn't look up. "Warren-Aleksander." Don stopped what he was doing. "There's no better way to keep his uncles in our hearts, than to name him after them." My husband was silent for a long time, until he let out a quiet whimper and I let him cry, stroking his hair and humming Paper Dolls; it was his and Skip's favourite song.
"I love you." He mumbled after an hour, his voice breaking.
"We love you too."
August 1945
For our anniversary, we'd been to a photography studio and had some photos done, sending one back to his family and one back to Mrs Taylor, with the news that Don wasn't just coming back with a wife now. Mrs Taylor was over the moon; Mum as I affectionately called her, had already begun to knit some baby clothes for us and begged us to visit before we went home to Oregon. Mrs Malarkey was equally as thrilled and had agreed to rope Don's brother into painting the nursery for us so it was ready when we got home. But now, Don barely left my side now; ever since he found out he was going to be a father, he had a beady eye on me wherever I went. At night, he would sleep with his hand on my now bigger bump no matter which way we slept, in the morning, he'd kiss me and the bump, he'd call my desk and check I was okay when he went on duty, he'd bring me food and something to drink when he was around and he was extra protective over me, pressing his hand over my stomach if anyone walked too close. He didn't even like me carrying heavy bundles of paper. Fuss pot.
"Lith?" I could hear the stress in his voice as he barged into our room, looking through the balcony doors. "You weren't in the office."
"I know; Winters gave me the afternoon off so I can wa-" I paused, feeling a little kick. "So I can watch the baseball game." I smiled, looking up at him from my lounger. I held out my hand to him. "Here." I took his hand and pressed it to my belly. Don looked confused, until the baby kicked again and he beamed bright enough to put the sun out of action. Our child was slowly bringing back the man that I'd first fallen in love with.
"I love you, you know that?"
"I married you and I let you knock me up, so I should hope you do." I grinned, watching him smile as he felt another kick. "I'm glad your mother isn't angry."
Don chuckled, his hand not leaving my belly. "Whaddaya mean? I've been writing her about you since you first showed up, she knows all about you and she loves you."
"She does? You did?"
"Yeah I did and yeah she does…so, you ready to go watch the game?"
Buck had come back from the states to visit his friends and wife and Don had perked up at that. He was a baseball player at UCLA and had encouraged a lot of the others to go back to school, my darling husband being one of them. I assured him that I had my savings and we would be able to scrimp by while he went to school; so long as the mortgage was paid and there was food for my son, I wasn't bothered about anything else.
Taylor, had finally married Hall and her name was now officially an address, something George loved to tease her about. Hall had somehow found a rabbi and they'd had a traditional Jewish wedding (save for the chairs, Taylor was still wounded after all) and Joe had walked her down the aisle after the two had finally kissed (not literally) and made up. So now all three of us were married, though, I was still in the lead, by a baby.
The three of us sat watching our friends and husbands play ball, reminiscing about the last few years and how we were all surprised to have made it through, when Winters and the others walked over and Ron called us into a school circle. The announcement he made hit us like a train. The war was over and we were all going home. All of us.
Of course, we'd taked about Don being sent away to fight in the Pacific and me being sent back without him, but now, we didn't have to worry about that. We were going home; together.
The ACS were officially disbanded, with commendations from Sink and surprisingly, a military pension, which would help with our bills and baby, while Don was at school. Because I was pregnant, Don and I were sent home first, which was an ordeal in itself. Taylor bawled like I'd never known and even Danni cried. For three years, the three of us had never been apart, not for long anyway. We lived, fought, laughed and cried together, for three years. We were close before, but our bond was so much stronger, like we were blood sisters, not just friends with mocked up papers. We were legally sisters and our husbands weren't just friends, they were brothers now and there wasn't a chance in Muspelheim that it'd be broken. I gave them our address, insisting that they visit whenever they want and that they had to come to us when the baby was due; Don was my hero, but he panicked if I even looked uncomfortable, he'd have an apoplectic as soon as my water breaks.
"Did she cry like that when Hoob shot me?" I asked, as he helped me board the plane we were taking back to England.
"Not as bad as that…you hear from Hoob?"
"Yeah, he sent me $10 and a voucher for baby clothes. Said he was sorry and wanted to visit when the baby arrives." I replied. Hoob had been sent home, just after the attack on Foy, guilt ridden for accidentally almost killing me and suffering from PTSD. I'd written to him as soon as I could, to let him know I was not dead, much to the collective relief of Easy. Bill had also written to me; he'd married his childhood sweetheart Frannie and they too had a baby on the way. I remember commenting to Don about how fast that was, but how excited I was that our kids would be so close in age and could play together at the reunions in the future. He was already planning one for the next year and I suggested we have a small get together at our house, since it was big enough.
When we arrived back in Aldbourne, to see Mum, we found she was already waiting at the bottom of the road for us. She cried, I cried…Don shed a tear and we went home. We stayed there until the end of August until we had to go home and though she insisted it was no trouble to have us stay, we still reimbursed her, especially for all the baby things she'd knitted; there were two of everything, a set of things in blue and a set of things in pink. I promised to call her to let her know when we got back to America and again when we got to our home.
When we hit New York after a good 7 days on the QE2 (I know, I actually got to go on that legendary ship), I decided we should make a spur of the moment visit to Bill, who had by the time we'd gotten back to the States, become a father to Henry 'Hank' Guarnere, so named after Bill's brother. Really, I would do everything to put off meeting Don's family; I was terrified that they'd hate me, thinking I'd only married Don for a green card and someone to live off.
"Heya Mousey!" Bill greeted us with a wave from his porch. He called inside the house, probably to Frannie, who came out just as excitedly, with a new born in her arms. "How ya doin' Malark?"
"We're fine Bill, thanks for askin'. How's the leg?" Don asked, making sure to watch my step for me as I walked up the wet porch. Bill and Frannie led us into their house and Frannie handed me some extra cushions.
"Ah, who needs two legs; I'm doin' fine with jus' one. Anyway, how's Momma Mousey?" He grinned, watching me rub my stomach.
"All well here Bill; now, where's that baby?"
"Here's our little Hank; ain't he just a bruiser?" Frannie beamed proudly, handing me her son to hold.
"Isn't he just? He's adorable! Bill, how'd you make something this cute?" I winked at my friend, who cackled. How I'd missed that laugh.
"It's all Frannie; I'm sure I'll be askin' Malark the same in 4 months' time." He cackled again.
Frannie and I bonded over motherhood and Bill, while Bill and Don caught up on old times; they even let us stay overnight instead of getting the night train. As we boarded the train, Don joked that if we made any more stops on the way back, I'd be ready to drop before we got home.