The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

58: Powerless to Defy

Instead, he was waving at a baby in a stroller.

Looking back at him, she knew she'd visibly softened, but she was powerless to prevent it. He was smiling so brightly at the baby and waving so enthusiastically. Her heartbeat was erratic.

Oh, her heart. It ached. The pain in her chest became so much she really did look away this time, and she didn't sneak any more glances in his direction.

After lunch, the men insisted on accompanying the nurses for the rest of the day. Though Henry pretended to be deeply put out by the entire affair, Charlie caught the way she looked at Malarkey when she thought no one was looking. There was something there, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Whatever had been between them before was still alive now and, though Charlie was sure they didn't know it, the two of them walked in paths that veered subtly towards each other, two magnets powerless to defy their pull.

They all headed back to the nurses' hotel to freshen up before dinner. When the men saw the exterior, they all looked a mixture of awestruck and irritated.

"You're shitting me," Malarkey said, staring through the spinning glass doors into the lobby.

"Must be real nice to be an officer," Skip remarked with a quick shake of his head.

"God damn," Lieb added. He looked over at Autumn. "Any chance you want -"

"No," Autumn said instantly. She didn't even look at him.

Lieb grinned. "You'll come around."

"In which one of your fantasies?"

"All of 'em."

They all met back up again for dinner at a restaurant Henry had picked out earlier on in the day before they'd known the men were here. It was small and lit up with quaint little lanterns, and the waiters pushed three tables together so that they could all sit at the same one.

"I never want to leave," Charlie said with a dreamy sigh, looking at the busy restaurant around her.

"We'll have to come back," Mabs said. She leaned her shoulder into Charlie's for a moment and smiled up at her, and Charlie shared in her happiness. Everything seemed lighter in Paris, brighter and easier and infinitely more lovely. Life was a dream in this part of the world, the war a distant nightmare she'd long since woken up from.

If only she didn't have to return to it tomorrow.

But that was a worry for tomorrow. Tonight, she would live in the moment and soak up what it was to feel young and content and at ease. She wasn't sure when, if ever, she'd feel like this again.

Over dinner they joked and laughed and shared stories of life before the war. Autumn spoke about her early childhood, some of the years she still had memories of, but everyone else talked about their later teenage years or early twenties.

When it was Charlie's turn to tell a story, she didn't know, immediately, what to say. Everyone seemed to have lived so much more interesting lives than her. The first notable thing she'd ever done was become a nurse. She didn't have any stories of first kisses or first dates or first boyfriends from before the war, all of those things belonged to James and she didn't want to share them just yet, and she certainly didn't have any stories of losing her virginity in any interesting places. She didn't have stories of sneaking out of the house or skipping school or causing trouble in her neighbourhood. She didn't even have any best friends to talk about, only friends she'd had out of convenience because she saw them at school everyday or lived nearby them. For all intents and purposes, her life had started when she'd left for England. She hadn't realised at the time how small her world had been, hadn't realised how much events and places and people could mean to her. The war had taught her all that.