With his long stride, Alex skipped the first steps up towards the Metro entrance. Edith Dixon had moved fast but he slowed his pace when he noticed her willowy figure at the street level. She was standing with her back to him as he emerged into the damp December air. Edith didn't look over as she tucked her fingers into her beige gloves, her gaze intent on her hands.
"Lieutenant Dixon, I had no idea you were in France-"
"I arrived about two weeks ago." She cut him off as she pinned the glove buttons on wrists, "I have been quite busy with things over at Mourmelon."
Alex situated his hat, "You are at Mourmelon? Where are you being quart-"
"With a family in the village."
Alex pursed his lips, arching his dark eyebrows. The woman didn't want company, there was no doubt of that. He scanned the empty streets steeped in night with the mandatory black out. He hadn't realized how late it had grown. The gate behind them clanged shut as a Metro attendant locked up for the evening.
Edith glanced over at him, "Enjoy your weekend, Lieutenant."
The heels of her Oxfords clicked against the cobblestones as she strode out into the night. She marched as though she owned the city. Alex's brow furrowed. His old fashioned upbringing couldn't let her walk home alone, even if she was capable of doing so. With a sigh, he jogged up to her.
"Where are you staying here in Paris?" He asked, pulling up beside her.
"A little farther in the city."
"A long ways off?"
"Not too bad." She pinched her purse tighter beneath her arm. "I can handle myself quite well, thank you."
"I'm sure you can, but I can't help but feel your father would appreciate it if you had someone to escort you-"
Edith snorted, "My father isn't here. I am a grown adult. You needn't trouble yourself."
"I was only going to say with the black out in a strange city, things might not be as easy-"
"Lieutenant, I have a guide and a book of French phrases with me. I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Still, I am concerned-"
"Lieutenant McKay-"
"Lieutenant Dixon!" Alex halted as his voice rose in volume.
He had never liked interruptions while he or anybody else was talking. Edith Dixon was in the habit of it. He took a deep breath to calm the swell of frustration in his chest. She stared at him in the feeble moonlight, eyes wide with astonishment.
"I hardly know where I am. It might be better if we try to make it back to our separate hotels together." He reasoned, "And to be honest, I wouldn't mind the company."
Edith hesitated, her stance relaxing. She heaved a sigh and narrowed her eyes at the street sign hanging over them, "I suppose it can't hurt. Two heads are better than one. I was thinking if we headed towards the Seine, it might lead us to the heart of the city."
“That sounds good to me. After you?"
Both of them were quiet as they traversed the near deserted boulevards. Only street sweepers and stumbling serviceman perfumed with whiskey were out by now. It was surreal to think that Paris was once called the city of lights. The air was still tense from the recent Nazi occupation. The sound of river water tumbled towards them. They both turned in the direction of a narrow bridge.
"I think I see some stairs." Edith pointed towards a landing where a few Airmen disappeared out of sight.
"I think you are right."
They descended to the river walk, the Seine weaving a black ribbon of satiny water beside them. Alex was lost in his thoughts. He forgot her silent presence till she stopped short and leaned to the damp ground.
"Someone dropped a coin." She murmured, holding the piece up to the faint light of the half moon.
"A good luck sign?" He offered with a shrug, watching her as she tucked it into her coat pocket.
"Perhaps."
Talking with women had never been a talent Alex possessed. Especially when they were young and attractive. He cleared his throat as they meandered down the bank.
"So how did you come to be in your position, working administrative duties? Yours is the kind of stuff usually given to supply officers-"
"I don't believe that has anything to do with getting us home right now." She replied, her steps moving closer to the adjacent wall and away from him.
Shot down, Alex smirked. If the woman wanted to walk in silence, that suited him fine.
"After they introduced the Corp, I joined and went to Basic. There was an open position for something more than a clerk-typist and I was allowed a two week trial period. My resume and my father’s influence helped.” Edith's taut tone of voice echoed as they passed beneath another bridge, “After a couple months interviewing officers for positions overseas, I realized I wanted to be closer to the action as well. So I volunteered.”
Alex glanced over, surprised by her decision to respond, "Where did you attend school?"
"Wellesley."
He slipped his hands in his pockets. He too was a college graduate but it had been a hard won venture. It certainly wasn't from as prestigious an establishment as Wellesley.
As the son of migrant farmers, he had fallen behind in school during the Depression. It only got worse after his father left them. He worked himself to the bone for his education while supporting his family.
He wondered if Edith would have been better off running into Michael Porter. Despite his poor life choices, Porter was actually quite brilliant. He'd won himself a full scholarship after high school.
"How did you choose to join the Paratroopers?"
He breathed a silent sigh of relief that she hadn't asked after his own education. "If I was going to war, I wanted to go with the best. I wanted to be able to trust the men I went into combat with. Also, there was an extra fifty bucks a month I could send home."
Edith smiled, "And now my father has you behind a desk. Company XO, right?"
Alex flinched at the memory, "Got the promotion after D-Day. I don't see how you have managed years of paperwork and not gone mad."
A laugh rose up in her and bubbled over like a fountain, her head tipping back. He couldn't help but grin, even though he had no idea what she thought was so funny.
"The minute I heard that you were promoted to administrative work I knew you would be tearing your hair out."
"But you don't even know me."
"It doesn't take too long in the service to know the difference between a born desk jockey and a man meant to be out in the field." She met his eyes, lifted her eyebrows, "Tell me I'm wrong."
He was struck dumb by her observation but managed a nod, "It's been a change. I’m used to being outside in the fresh air."
The hot scent of food drifted on the breeze. Both of them paused. Alex glanced over at her and wondered if she had missed dinner as well.
"I didn't think there would be any place still open." He mused, looking towards a set of stairs leading up to the street.
"Me neither." Edith's pace drifted towards the staircase. She wet her lips and peered over at him, "Would you mind if we stopped and got something to eat? I haven't had anything since lunch."
Alex grinned with relief, "I thought you'd never ask."
Squat, tallow candles decorated the bare tables brought in from the street. Several other couples trying to catch a late night meal guffawed and giggled around them. There was no menu. Rather the waiter recited several options from the kitchen in broken English.
After receiving their cups of coffee, the air between them grew stale. Alex wondered if it had been a good idea to leave the river side. He could have handled being hungry until morning, he had done so during combat. Now sitting across from Edith with a blank mind, he cursed his stomach.
"Where are you from, Lieutenant?" Edith ventured after a long stretch of silence.
As he peered up from his coffee, he found her gaze to be as direct as her father's. Her narrow, hazel eyes were unnerving. She shifted in her seat as she crossed her legs, waiting for his answer to such a simple question.
"California but Oklahoma originally." He took a sip of black coffee, "You?"
"Everywhere really. So goes the life of a military family, I suppose."
"Is there any place that feels like home to you?"
The question was rather personal but Alex couldn't help wondering. She hesitated, caught off guard by the query. Resting her elbow on the table, she leaned her long neck into the palm of her hand.
"I suppose that's why I wanted to get a job with the Army. As silly as it sounds, the military has always been the closest thing to home for me. It's what I know best."
"Do you have any other family?"
"My mother and two younger sisters live in the states."
"Are they in the same line of work?"
Edith snorted, pouring a syrupy dash of creamer into her cup, "Not exactly. My sisters are housewives."
The waiter brought out their food. Boiled white fish with a little pepper steamed next to what the waiter had called "fresh" garden vegetables. It was mid-December so the cooked peppers and onions had no doubt been straight from the can. Still they were both too hungry to pay mind to the discrepancy.
"I'm surprised, Captain."
Alex swallowed, "Surprised by what? The vegetables?"
Edith chuckled, "No, that you didn't dive right into the next obvious question."
"And what would that be?" Alex took another bite of his fish and rested his hand on the table.
"What a nice girl like me is doing working for the Army instead of getting married off like my sisters?" Edith's gaze flitted up from her plate, "It's usually next on the interrogation."
"I suppose you wanted to do your part for the war effort. The Army is lucky to have you." Alex shrugged, turning back to his plate.
Edith set down her utensils and patted her mouth with her napkin, "What do you mean?"
"It seems to me that you are good at what you do. I think you need a certain kind of brain to manage all that paperwork the Brass hands you daily. Also to keep those boys in line that you work with, I’m not going to pretend that would be easy. I can't lie. It's impressive how well you handle it."
After a moment of quiet, he peered up at her in the yellow candlelight. Edith had leveled her gaze on him again. There was a softness around her mouth that hadn't been present earlier.
As he studied her, he realized that she wore no lipstick. A strange choice as all the women he knew wore lipstick. The US government had never rationed it. He wondered if she didn't wear lipstick in order to be taken as an equal by her male counterparts. As her eyes skittered away and she brushed away a strand of hair from her face, he realized he had been staring.
"I'm sorry. I have just never been told that before. I- I appreciate it, your honesty.” She cleared her throat and focused on her fork, “How are- how are you liking your meal?"
"I won't go hungry." He grinned watching her from across the table.
Edith uttered a soft laugh, her eyes dancing up to him, "So much for the reputation of French food, I suppose."
The woman was known for being cold. In that moment, he felt like she allowed a glimpse beyond her icy exterior. He liked what he saw in her.
It was after midnight and the streets were all but abandoned. Alex's eyes were gritty with exhaustion but he was reluctant to let their evening end.
“So what does your father do?” She asked as they finally emerged from the river bank onto a street corner.
“I don’t really know what he does these days.” Despite the dark, he could almost see the look of confusion cross her face. Lifting his hat, he smoothed his hair back with a weak chuckle, “He left my family while I was in high school. Haven’t heard much from him since.”
Edith waited a beat, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I’m fine,” he blurted. He hoped he hadn’t made her feel uncomfortable. “I mean, I wasn’t when I was younger but there was this Preacher- anyway, he made me see things the way they were.”
“How do you mean?”
“I used to get in a lot of fights back then. This Preacher, Macon, told me that I had every right to be angry, but I needed to give up that right. Because I deserved the better life God had planned for me.”
The air between them grew still. Edith clapped her hands behind her back and sped up her steps.
“I’m sorry, did I just offend you-“ he sputtered.
“No, not at all!” She sparked without looking at him, “It’s just getting late.”
Finally they made sense of the twisting streets and found their way back to their hotels. They paused outside the canopied entry to where she was staying. The conversation came to a screeching halt as they faced one another.
"Thank you for seeing me back. I hope you can forgive me for being hard headed." She offered, the moon overhead shedding a strange glow on her face.
"Don't worry about it. I’m glad I could help," he shook his head, his hands folded behind his back.
"When are you heading back to Mourmelon?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. You?"
"The morning train. I can leave later if I want." Her tone was open ended though tentative.
Alex's eyes dropped to the cobblestones. "If you would like, there is a café near my hotel with a great view of the Eiffel Tower. We could meet there for a cup of coffee around 9?"
The skin on the back of his neck tingled as she hesitated in the dark. He hoped he hadn't read her tone wrong.
"Yes, I would like that."
He exhaled with relief and smiled, "I'll see you in the morning then. It's right around the corner. Street tables and everything. You can’t miss it."
She nodded, "Good night then."
After a good night's sleep and a bath, Alex found himself sitting alone at one of the tables on the sidewalk. By 10:30 AM, he concluded she was not coming. Swallowing down the spark of embarrassment at being stood up, he left a franc on the table. He made his way back to his room to pack up and leave for Mourmelon.
ns 15.158.61.55da2
