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United States606Please respect copyright.PENANAr7Fp7vVEbv
New Year's Eve, 1945
The misty rain that had been falling steadily all day had swiftly turned to snow as the hours crept closer to 1946. Ted McNeil crossed his ankle over his knee. Cupping a hand around his lighter, the cigarette between his lips glowed. Smoke drifted out into the cold air from the small porch.
He clicked the lighter closed and settled down into the chair, watching the drifts catch the wind and twirl up into the light of the streetlamps. Inside the dimly lit house, he could hear the antique grandfather clock in the foyer clang out the hour. Ted felt her presence at the half open door behind him before she spoke a word.
"That was Mira,” she laid a hand on his shoulder and trailed it across the back of his neck.
Ted reached up and grasped her fingers, kissing them gently, "How are they doing?"
Catie paused with a sigh. She stepped in front of him and sat down on his lap. Resting her head on his shoulder, Ted reached up and pulled his fingers through her hair. The spice brown waves had grown out a little past her shoulders.
"Bad news?" He ventured, rubbing her upper arm after she didn't answer.
"Mira lost the baby."
Ted took a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it out into the snow. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head.
"I thought that they were far enough along this time."
"Apparently not," Catie sniffed, clearly troubled by her close friend's grief, "I can't even imagine. This is the second time since they got back to New York."
He felt her body stiffen and knew immediately what she was thinking.
"These things just happen sometimes," he attempted to bring reason into the sad situation.
"I know. I just can't help but wish all of us who came home could be spared heartache for a couple years at least, you know?"
"Well, this is life." He tucked the hair behind her ear as she lifted her head, her eyes on his open shirt collar, "There are no promises for happy endings, even for the most deserving."
She met his eyes, "I'm scared. What if-"
Catie couldn't finish the sentence but Ted knew what she was thinking. He knew her like he knew his own mind.
"Who is to say what will happen?" He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, "Isn't that something we already learned?"
Catie smirked and tugged on his collar gently, bumping her nose against his playfully, "I guess."
Ted gripped the side of her thigh as she captured his mouth with hers. The kiss deepened, the snow falling heavier. Somewhere in the peaceful countryside, a dog howled lamely. Wordlessly, Ted stood cradling her in his arms. He kicked the door closed behind him and carried his wife to the bedroom.
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