17th March, 1945- Mourmelon (Field Camp)
After three weeks of respite in Mourmelon, Easy company were beginning to feel like their old selves again with each passing day. Tiny flower buds were shooting up out of the earth, bringing with them the promise and hope of spring. As the weather began to warm ever so slightly, the horrors of winter were slowly becoming a distant nightmare. Sleeping on cots all night and being woken by a dawn chorus instead of mortar shells raining down on them was a luxury they had all too quickly gotten used to. And the rest of their daily routine wasn't too shabby either.
After as much food as they could stuff into their mouths and stomachs, there was the obligatory roll call followed by a few hours of training. Then it was lunchtime, which filled them up nicely in time to spend the entire afternoon doing mostly whatever they pleased. Playing cards, writing letters to home, watching a movie, sleeping. Then to top it all off, they were rewarded with a third and final meal for the day. There was so much food to go around, it was almost hard to imagine sitting in the Bois Jacques wondering when they were ever going to get to eat a real meal again.
There was only one downside to Mourmelon. Replacements. They were everywhere. Young men, eager to prove themselves and itching for some action. They couldn't understand why their seasoned comrades weren't chomping at the bit to leave their veritable haven. Patrick O'Keefe was one such replacement. He was nice enough, but from the moment he arrived, his mouth barely stopped moving and the outpouring of questions never seemed to end. Even Evelyn, who usually found herself a lot more patient with replacements than everyone else, was quickly losing her sanity. In an attempt not to snap at the poor boy, she headed off for a walk outside in the fresh air just to get away from his incessant chatter. Across the field, she spotted David Webster sitting underneath a tree reading a book and minding his own business.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked.
"Not at all," Webster smiled.
"This is a nice peaceful spot you've found," she glanced around, using her hand to shield her eyes from the bright spring sunshine.
"It was," he teased lightly.
"Sorry," she grinned sheepishly. "I just couldn't stand another minute of listening to O'Keefe harp on about how he's ready to take Hitler down single handed."
"Yeah, he's rather an enthusiastic fellow, isn't he?"
"That's putting it mildly," she snorted. "What you reading anyway?"
"Oh, just a book I brought with me from the hospital," he held it up briefly for her to catch a glimpse of a plain looking black and white cover. "I read it about three times while I was there but it's quite good so I thought I'd read it again while there's nothing else to do."
"That stay in the hospital was really just like a glorified vacation for you, wasn't it? No wonder you weren't in any kind of hurry to get back to us," she teased him and he smiled, shaking his head.
Since Haguenau when he had proved himself as a team player, Webster had been accepted back into the fold by the rest of the company. Now when they talked about his time in the hospital, it was mostly just to rib him. Even Liebgott had warmed up to him which had surprised Evelyn to no end. In fact, the two of them seemed to have become good friends.
"Or maybe the reason you stayed there for so long was 'cause one of the nurses caught your eye and you just couldn't bear to leave her? According to Perconte, they're all smoking hot," she winked. Since Perconte's return, he had done nothing but talk about each nurse in detail until Evelyn thought she could probably draw every single one just from their descriptions alone.
"Don't be ridiculous," Webster looked down at the ground, his face turning red.
"I'm being ridiculous? Then why does your face look like a giant tomato?" Evelyn nudged him. "What's she like? Is she pretty?"
"She's very pretty," he admitted with a smile on his face. "Her name is Cynthia."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Are you two a couple? Will you see her again when this is all over? Do you see yourself marrying her?"
"Steady on," Webster chuckled nervously. "I haven't thought about marriage or anything like that. I mean I like her a lot, but I don't know her enough to start making such life changing decisions. She's from New York too, and we've been writing to each other since I left. It was actually her who gave me this book."
"You are so the smitten kitten," she squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. "David and Cynthia, sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage. Then comes the baby in a golden carriage."
"You finished?" Webster raised an eyebrow. "I should be singing Evelyn and Joseph sitting in a tree. Don't you try and deny anything either, Evelyn Guarnere. Liebgott told me about you and him being a thing nowadays."
"Oh, he did, did he?" she rolled her eyes. "He can't keep his mouth shut that guy. We agreed we weren't gonna tell anyone but apparently I'm the only one stickin' to that promise. And everyone has the audacity to say I'm a blabber mouth."
"In his defence, I heard about the amorous reception you gave him when he and the others found you in the woods after your little escapade with Van Kooijk."
"I guess," she admitted with a shrug. "Although in my defence, I hugged them all and not just him. It's hardly my fault he got all emotional on me. He's a real sap sometimes."
"Ev, I don't think you fooled anyone," he smirked. "But I will say one thing. Both me and Liebgott are most confused that Speirs hasn't reported either of you. And neither of us are silly enough to think that he didn't notice that day. There is nothing that man doesn't miss. I've spent less time with him than the rest of you and even I can tell that."
"It's 'cause he likes me too much," she grinned flippantly. "Not that he'd ever admit it, but I reckon after Lip, I'm easily his favourite person in the whole company."
"Liebgott better watch out or he might find himself in competition with the good Captain."
"Nah," Evelyn shook her head. "Not that I'd tell him this, but you could put me in a room with him and Humphrey Bogart and I'd still choose Joe every time."
"You know it's funny," Webster smiled at her. "He gets that same look in his eyes when he talks about you. I never thought I'd say this, but you actually make a rather sweet couple. In a kind of odd way. You're like chalk and cheese, yet bizarrely you work together."
"I guess," she answered. "But enough boring talk about me and Joe. I wanna hear all about this Cynthia of yours. Don't leave even a single detail out."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Everything," she tutted. "Start from the beginning."
"Er ok," David shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it was my second day when I saw her and..."
... ... ...
18thMarch, 1945
"One crate of morphine, check. Three crates of bandages. Hmm, where have you gotten to? Aha, there you are. Thought you could hide from me, huh? Think again, buddy. Check, check, check. One box of-"
"-You know they say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. And I should imagine that a person who talks to medical supplies isn't thought to be very sane either."
"Well I must be certified crazy then," Evelyn smiled at the newly promoted Major Winters. "What can I do for you, Sir?"
"It's my foot. I managed to stand on some glass and I don't think I've quite gotten it all out," he answered. "I thought I had but whenever I walk, I can still feel something. I didn't really want to make a fuss but my orderly threatened to call for Doc Roe. A rather bold move for such a quiet man, I must say. But his threat worked nonetheless."
"You know what makes me laugh?" she said, as she motioned for Winters to jump up onto the bed. "Eugene is so quiet and mild mannered yet every person in the company is terrified of him. Heck, even I am. I try to pretend I'm not, but he only has to raise an eyebrow at me and I swear my knees start to shake."
"It's true," Winters chortled. "I think what changed it for me was when Moose got shot. Doc was so furious, and the way he shouted really shocked me. It still does. It was so out of character for him yet at the same it wasn't."
"Indeed," she agreed, pulling off his boot and sock gently.
On the sole of his right foot was a large cut. She had to squint and use her torch, but she found the miniscule culprit. A pair of tweezers rectified the problem and when she was done, she held up the piece of brown glass with a triumphant smile.
"How did you even manage this?" she asked, cleaning the foot with some alcohol and gauze.
"I got up to use the latrine in the night and someone must have dropped a glass or something on the floor. I didn't see it and managed to walk right over it."
He opted to leave out the part of the story in which he failed to notice Nixon lying on the floor in a drunken stupor, and the smashed bottle of Vat 69 beside him. Nixon had been drinking more and more of late, and it was becoming somewhat of a problem. Up until now, he had been rather discreet, but as the days went on it was starting to become more obvious. It was only a matter of time until Colonel Sink or one of the others at regimental HQ noticed. That was if they hadn't already.
"I bet that was a nice surprise then," she smirked, wrapping his foot in a bandage to keep it clean.
"I'll say. The next time I have to make a night time trip to the latrine, I'll be sure to wear my boots," Winters smirked. "So Evelyn, how are you? I realise the last time I asked you a question of this sort, I accidentally let slip some news that to this day I wish I hadn't. But I've not had a chance to speak with you since Bill was wounded, and I wanted to check how you are."
"I'm alright," she said. "Bill's alive and I have to be grateful for that."
"That's true," Winters nodded. "But it must still be difficult for you to be so far away from him while he's going through such a hard time in his life.
"It is but I gotta just get on with it," she smiled. "I actually got a letter from my mom earlier today. Bill and Toye have been sent to a convalescent centre for wounded servicemen in Atlantic City which means my mom'll be there every day, feeding them as much as she can and probably smothering them both to death."
"That's probably for the best," Winters smirked. "If they were left unsupervised for too long, I could only begin to imagine the chaos they would cause together."
"Absolutely," she chuckled.
She could just visualise them both now. Wheelchair races down the corridors, giving lip to the nurses, fighting with the other patients. Maybe having her mother babysit them both wasn't such a bad thing after all. The tone of her mother's letter had been of shock and guilt. It turned out that none of her family had even been told that Bill had lost his leg. Instead, they had been sent a somewhat misleading telegram saying that he was coming home due to a broken leg. So of course when they had arrived in Atlantic City and seen him, it had been a complete and utter shock. If they'd have known, they could have perhaps tried to prepare themselves. But knowing her family as she did, she wasn't convinced that any amount of time or forewarning would have prevented them from hiding their despair at seeing Bill with only one leg. There were splodges on the page and Evelyn just knew that her mother had wept as she had written the letter to her. Tears of sorrow for her son, and tears of guilt that she hadn't been able to stop this from happening to him.
"You know, I have so much admiration for them both," Winters said, pulling his boot back on and disrupting Evelyn from her thoughts. "I plan on writing to them both once this is all over. Perhaps even paying them a visit."
"I think they would really like that, Sir," she smiled. Winters was such a good leader. He was a pillar of unwavering physical and emotional strength.
One day when she got home, she would think of him and the way that he had led his men. The thought of going home was something she had often tried not to do. It almost felt like thinking of returning home was to jinx it. But things were starting to feel different. It felt like home was becoming more tangible. It felt like she was actually in with a chance of surviving this thing.
... ... ...
Evelyn glanced up at the clock. There were still three more hours of her shift to go. She supposed that she couldn't really complain. Considering that the shifts were all split between Easy's medics and those in the rest of the battalion, each medic only ended up working a few times in the week. After an hour of writing up medical reports in an office that had no window or other source of daylight, Evelyn was having a hard time staying awake. Her eyes felt so heavy that they just kept closing of their own accord. Shaking her head to try and wake herself up somewhat, Evelyn sighed. For the last week or two she had found herself absolutely exhausted, and no amount of early nights seemed to help her constant fatigue. As long as she kept on the move she would just about manage to keep herself alert and awake, but the second she sat down she really struggled. Rubbing her tired eyes, she lay her head down on the desk for a split second and groaned.
Almost two hours passed before she was awoken by someone stroking her hair.
"Wakey wakey, sleepy head," Liebgott whispered softly.
Evelyn looked around, disorientated for a moment and frowned.
"What time is it?" she croaked groggily.
"Almost five," Liebgott smiled, affectionately patting down her hair which was sticking up all over the place. "Doc said you were in here but that he hadn't seen you for a couple of hours so I came to make sure you weren't working too hard. However, I think we've safely ascertained that you come in here just to slack off."
"Shut up," she grinned, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. "I literally shut my eyes for like two seconds and I must have just nodded off."
"You think?" Liebgott smirked, kissing her nose before nuzzling her neck. "Mm, you smell good."
"I do?"
"Uh-huh," he nodded, rubbing his stubble against her skin and making her shiver. "Like cotton candy."
"You're an idiot," she chuckled, closing her eyes and savouring the feel of his lips as they kissed their way up her neck and jaw.
"But I'm your idiot," he murmured.
"Unfortunately for me," she teased.
Liebgott stopped and raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that so? I really didn't wanna have to do this," he sighed and pretended to look disappointed with her. "But you leave me no choice, Miss Guarnere."
The second his hands came near her she squealed and ran around to the other side of the desk. Liebgott was right behind her. She spun around and tried to trick him by quickly running the other way but he was too quick. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her against him.
"Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way," he warned her, pinning her arms behind her back.
Their eyes met and the atmosphere in the tiny room rapidly changed, and they were suddenly both very aware that this was the first time since Virton that they had been alone together. Their kiss was anything but gentle. It was frantic, bruising. It was weeks of pent up frustration from lingering looks and hands brushing when nobody was looking. Liebgott yanked the rubber band out of her hair. He loved the feel of her thick curls as he ran his hands through them. Tugging at her hair, he forced her head up so that he could kiss her more deeply. His tongue plunged into her mouth and met with her own as he manoeuvred them both towards the wall, where Evelyn's back met the hard surface with a thud. He bit at her lip as his hands yanked open her OD's so he could cup her breast, running his thumb over the hardened peak. Evelyn moaned as his hand slipped further down until it pressed against her core.
Liebgott was undone. He didn't want to wait. The first time they had made love, he had been sure to savour every second but right now he had no such restraint. Yanking down his own OD's as well as hers, he practically tore at her knickers in his haste to be rid of them. Slowly he inserted a finger into her and groaned when he realised that she was already soaking wet and panting for him. Unable and unwilling to wait even a second longer, he pushed inside of her. Without waiting for her to catch her breath, he lifted up one of her legs to wrap around his waist and began to thrust in and out of her. Hard and fast. He was relentless, unhinged almost. He bit at her neck and she gasped as the pain and pleasure all mixed into one. Thrusting into her without mercy, he bit down hard on the top of her breast and instantly felt her release. His was only seconds after her own.
In the quiet of the room, all that could be heard was their laboured breathing as they rested their foreheads against one another. Liebgott blinked and the haze began to disappear. He blinked again and stood up straight to peer Evelyn.
"I'm so sorry," he apologised, gently fingering the marks on her neck and chest that were already beginning to bruise. "I don't know what came over me. Did I hurt you? Are you alright? Ev, speak to me?"
"Shut your mouth for a second and then I might just be able to," she smirked. "Why are you fussing over me like an old nursemaid?"
"Because I just...well we," he stammered nervously and Evelyn chuckled.
"Joseph Liebgott are you blushing?" she teased, snaking her arms around his neck and standing up on her tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose. "Look at me. Do I look like someone who is hurt in any way? Or do I look like a woman who has just been very thoroughly loved by her boyfriend?"
One glance at her glowing skin and sticking up hair and he realised she was very right.
"Although when I said loved, I didn't mean you love me. I mean, I'm not saying you don't love me but we've never actually said that to each other. Also, I can't see inside your brain, so I don't know if you actually do feel that way," she explained. "But that's not me saying that I think because of what we did just now and last time that it means there's any love involved. For now, we're just two people who really care about each other and if it turns into love then that's great, but if not then that's fine too. And you know what? I'm gonna just stop talking now 'cause I'm digging myself into a great big hole. In fact, maybe being in a hole might not be so bad right now."
She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment at letting her mouth just run off with itself, as it so often did. Liebgott took her hands and pulled them away from her face so she scrunched her eyes shut instead to avoid looking at him.
"Ev, open your eyes," Liebgott chuckled, kissing her eyelids.
Reluctantly, she opened one eye and cringed as she looked at him.
"And the other one. There that's better," he smirked, cupping her face in his hands. "You're the funniest thing you know that? You're just so goddamn cute. And don't start telling me that I can't tell you you're cute. I think you're adorable, and funny and sweet and that's why I lo-"
"-Don't say it," she smacked a hand over his mouth. "Don't you dare say it."
"Why not?" Joe asked, his voice muffled against her palm.
"'Cause I don't want you to say it," Evelyn told him. "Well no, that's a lie. I do want you to say it, but only if you really mean it. And after the ramblings that came outta my mouth before, I know for a fact that if you do say it that it's only 'cause you feel obliged to."
"Didn't you just say to me less than two minutes ago that you can't see inside my brain?" Liebgott tutted impatiently. "In which case you don't know that what I'm about to say I haven't been wanting to say for a really long time, do you?"
"Well no," she admitted. "But I still don't want you to-"
"-Evelyn Guarnere, I-"
"-Wait!" she ordered him. "Just a second."
She quickly pulled on her OD's and tied up her hair into something that resembled a bun while Liebgott frowned at her. Satisfied that she looked neat and presentable once more, she stood up straight and gave him an expectant smile.
"Ok, you can say it now," she said.
"You sure?" he narrowed his eyes at her.
She nodded. "Yep, I'm sure. Go on, say it."
"You know what? I'm not sure I want to now," Liebgott shrugged.
"Why?"
"Because this isn't how I planned it," he answered. "It's just awkward now."
"No, no it's not," she shook her head and grabbed his hand. "What about if I just take my hair down again and get out of these OD's then we are back to where we were before I made it all awkward?"
"Nah," Liebgott shrugged. "It's just still too weird."
"You're right," she sighed. "I'm sorry."
"Come here," Liebgott said, sensing her upset. He grabbed her hands and pulled her closer towards him so that he could kiss her. "How about we forget this whole conversation for now?"
"Yeah," she nodded, kissing him back.
"But does the offer of you getting out of those OD's again still stand?" he grinned devilishly.
"You're kidding right?" she chuckled.
"What do you think?" he murmured, nuzzling her neck and pushing his hips against her.
Evelyn realised he most definitely wasn't kidding.
... ... ...
19thMarch, 1945
Evelyn sat up as her stomach lurched furiously. Sweet tasting saliva filled her mouth and she swallowed repeatedly, trying to quell the inevitable. Suddenly her bare feet were padding across the dew soaked grass, and she made it to the latrines just in time to spew up the contents of her stomach. Hunched over the toilet bowl, she vomited again and again until her eyes and throat burned.
"You alright in there?" a voice asked from the cubicle next to her.
"George?" Evelyn croaked. "That you?"
She heard some banging about and then George's head popped up over the cubicle wall.
"Wow, you look like shit," he grimaced, taking in her pale face and the vomit stain down the front of her OD's. "Did you by any chance eat the stew for dinner last night?"
"How did you guess?" she pulled a face, the lingering taste still in her mouth.
"Well, I've been sitting on the shitter for the last half an hour and I ate the same thing," he answered casually.
"Me too," Talbert's head popped up on the other side. "Hi, Ev," he smiled. "You know, the stew did taste kind of strange don't you think?"
"Kind of," Evelyn agreed. "But I just thought maybe the cooks had used some kind of foreign herb that none of us were used to."
"What a lie," George snorted. "You inhale your food so fast that there's no chance you would have had time to notice the flavour."
"Yeah well maybe that's because I'm always sitting next to you," she glared at George. "If I don't eat it quick, you start helping yourself to whatever's on my plate."
"Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better," George chuckled. He loved winding Evelyn up. She was just too easy.
"Oh shut up George," Evelyn stuck her tongue out at him. She knew he was just trying to annoy her and, as usual, it was working. She looked from George to Talbert and back again. "Please tell me that you two have got your pants pulled up?"
"What does it matter?" George frowned at her. "It's not like you can see us anyway. In fact, I'm swivelling my hips around like a horse on a carousel and letting everything just hang loose."
"That's almost enough to make me be sick again," she pretended to gag while George chortled at himself.
Suddenly though he stopped laughing and let out a gasp as his stomach gurgled loudly. He disappeared abruptly and the sounds (and smells) coming from his cubicle were far from pleasant.
"Urgh," Evelyn groaned and this time when her own stomach forced her head back down the toilet, she wasn't entirely sure whether it was the stew or George that had caused it.
When Evelyn managed to drag herself back to her tent a short time later, over half of the company was in crippling agony with diarrhoea and sickness. Lying on her cot and closing her eyes, Evelyn put a hand over her mouth as another wave of sickness rolled around her stomach. She groaned and turned so that she lay on her side. She had no energy. She didn't care if she was sick on the ground at this point.
"You ok Evelyn?" Spina asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Do I look ok to you?" she snapped, but without anywhere near as much force as usual.
"You really want me to answer that?" she heard the smirk in his voice.
She opened her eyes and glared at him.
"Spina, just leave me to die in peace, will you?"
"You aint dying Ev," Ralph chuckled. "You've just got food poisoning."
"Well I feel like I'm dying," she said. "I swear to God I'm never eating anything ever again."
She could still hear Spina laughing loudly as he left the tent.
... ... ...
23rdMarch, 1945
True to her word, Evelyn didn't eat anything ever again. Well, not for almost forty- eight hours anyway. But even when she did start to allow herself food once more, she could only stomach small amounts of dry things like bread and potatoes.
"Morning princess," George grinned, sitting down beside her in the mess hall.
Apparently George had completely recovered with no after effects from his bout of food poisoning, and Evelyn stared at his food laden plate with disgust and a little bit of envy.
"You're very chipper this morning," she commented, chewing on a small crust of bread.
"Well the sun's shining and the birds are tweeting," George answered.
"And he just got himself a date with one of those cute USO broads that are hanging around the recreational tent," Malarkey added, sitting down opposite them.
"Let me guess? The redhead you've been chasin' about for weeks?" Evelyn smirked at George.
"What can I say?" George grinned. "I knew she wouldn't be able to resist my charm forever."
"Yeah or maybe she was just so fed up with you bugging her that she decided to say yes just to get rid of you?" Evelyn said.
"Wow, that's offensive," George sniffed, stirring milk into his coffee. Evelyn patted his cheek and with a smile took his coffee. She lifted the cup to her mouth but as soon as she tasted it, she grimaced and felt like she was going to be sick.
"Urgh, what the hell have you done to that coffee?" she thrust it back on the table in front of George.
"Nothing," he answered innocently.
"George," she warned.
"What?" he asked incredulously.
"Don, taste that coffee," Evelyn ordered him, sliding it across the table. "Don't it taste disgusting to you?"
Malarkey picked up the white cup and sniffed it tentatively. "Smells like coffee to me," he answered, before taking a sip. "Tastes like coffee too."
"Oh I get it," she suddenly said. "You're both in on it, aren't you?"
"In on what?" Don asked, frowning.
"Donald Malarkey, you can't get anything past me," she said. "You and George think you're so clever, don't you? You put something icky in the coffee because George has probably been complaining again about the fact that I always drink his coffee at breakfast. You may as well confess now."
"You are a deranged lady," George side eyed her. "Do you think Malark would have drank it if he knew or thought there was something in it? The coffee's fine, you absolute lunatic."
"Is that right?" she folded her arms across her chest. "Well if there's nothing wrong with the coffee, I dare you to drink some too."
"Challenge accepted," George answered happily. He took a sip, all the while making sure his eyes didn't leave her own. Then he continued to drink and drink until the whole cup was emptied. "There. Satisfied now?"
Evelyn frowned. So maybe there really wasn't anything wrong with the coffee. She supposed that she wasn't as recovered as she would have liked to think. It was so unfair. Not only could she barely eat, but now she couldn't drink her favourite beverage either.
"Do I get an apology?" George asked sweetly.
"I guess," she said reluctantly. "I'm sorry Georgie. And you Don as well."
"I can't believe you think I tried to do something so mean to you," George shook his head.
"I guess I just couldn't deal with the fact that my own taste buds have turned their backs on me," she joked. "I mean I'm Italian, for crying out loud. Me not being able to drink coffee is like being a dolphin who can't swim. It's unnatural."
"Yeah but it's normal sometimes after you've been ill," Malarkey comforted her. "Another few days or a week and you'll be able to drink as much of it as you want."
"You hope," George snorted. "I know some people who get sick and go off stuff then never want it ever again."
"Oh yeah, that's true," Don nodded. "When my Aunt Josephine got pregnant with my cousin, Sarah, she went right off bacon. Couldn't stand to be near the stuff; not even to smell it. She hated it. Sarah's fourteen now, and my Aunt still can't stomach it at all. But hey, not to worry Ev. Maybe there's hope for you."
"Yeah, and having food poisoning and being pregnant are two rather different things," George chuckled.
For some reason, Evelyn suddenly felt like she had been punched in the gut. The room felt like it was spinning and everything sounded muffled. She stood up abruptly, her chair falling over backwards with her haste.
"Ev?" Malarkey frowned. "You alright? You look awfully pale."
"I'm fine," she blinked, as she started to edge away from the table. "I just need to go. I'll see you guys later."
Evelyn all but ran out of the mess hall leaving behind a very bemused Malarkey and George. She hadn't gotten more than a few yards away before George came bounding after her.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he grabbed her shoulder.
"I, uh," Evelyn could feel herself shaking. Thoughts were racing around her head wildly. "Can we go somewhere and talk? Just us?"
"Of course we can," George smiled, glancing around until he spotted the mail office.
He dragged her inside and very (un)kindly ordered Vest to leave them alone for a while.
"Now sit down and tell me what on earth has gotten you all shaken up," George said, locking the door and pulling down the shutter on the window.
"I..." Evelyn opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She couldn't catch her breath. She was hyperventilating. She felt like she was going to fall off the chair she sat on any minute.
George crouched down in front of her and grabbed hold of her hands.
"Ev, calm down," he urged, breathing in and out slowly so that she would copy him.
Eventually she began to slow down her breathing, but she still looked panicked. Her face was pale and she was trembling.
"George, I don't know what to do," she muttered. "I don't know how I didn't realise this before. What am I gonna do? They're gonna kick me out. Joe's gonna end things with me. My family is gonna hate me. You guys will think bad of me. What do I do?"
"Sweetheart, you've got to calm down," George whispered soothingly while Evelyn continued to mumble a load of nonsense. "I need you to tell me what's wrong, otherwise I don't know how to help you. You aren't making any sense."
"I can't," she shook her head.
George sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't have a clue what to do in a situation like this. What situation even was this? One minute she had been fine and then the next she had darted out of the mess hall like the devil was on her heels.
"Ev, talk to me," he pleaded.
"I think I'm pregnant," she whispered, a tear falling onto her cheek.
"You think you're what?" George's eyes practically bugged out of his head. "How can that be?"
"Me and Liebgott," she sniffed, still feeling shock and disbelief reverberate through her very being.
"Holy Mother of God. I knew you two were back together but I didn't know you two had done the deed. You have done the deed right?" he peered at her questioningly. "Because you do know that's the only way you can get pregnant. Your mom might tell you that some of the other stuff can do it, but it's all lies."
"I'm not a moron, George," she glared at him. "I know how people get pregnant."
"You'll forgive me for thinking otherwise," he said. "It's just that for someone who apparently knows how people get pregnant, you didn't do a very good job of stopping it from happening, did you?"
George felt like an absolute asshole for making that comment when Evelyn burst into tears.
"I'm sorry," he jumped up and hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."
"You're right though," she sobbed. "How could I have been so stupid? We should have used something. I must be the only person in the history of the world to have sex for the first time and wind up pregnant."
"Talk about bad luck eh?" George said. "Still, there's no point thinking about the shoulda, woulda, couldas now. And before you get too stressed out, we need to establish whether in fact you actually are pregnant. You could just be ill? After all, so many of us got that dodgy stomach. Maybe yours just still hasn't gotten better?"
"I'm certain George," she answered miserably. "It's not just the bad stomach. I haven't had a period since me and Liebgott first did it in the church back in Rachamps."
"You did it in the church?" George exclaimed. "Where we were all with you? How did you manage to... yeah, sorry not important right now, ok."
Evelyn closed her eyes and wanted the world to just disappear. She felt like such an idiot. How could she not have noticed before now? She had been so busy with other things on her mind that it hadn't once occurred to her that she had been completely lacking in the period department since she and Liebgott had made love in the Rachamps. It was only when Malarkey had started harping on about his aunt that it had suddenly dawned on her.
"Jeez Louise, Ev, you're gonna have a baby. Like an actual real life human is growing inside you right now. Isn't that crazy? You know, pregnant women kind of make me feel a little bit scared. I know everyone harps on and on about the miracle of life and how beautiful it is but to me, it's actually pretty disgusting. First of all, this creature grows inside you and feeds off of you like a parasite. It makes everything swell. God when my mom had my little sister she looked like a giant blob. And not to mention the hair that just sprouted everywhere. Then after the parasite rips your downstairs area practically in two, it comes out and you're forced to look after it for the rest of your life. Why would anyone ever voluntarily put themselves through that?" he shivered dramatically. "Dogs are much easier."
"Thanks for the support George," Evelyn mumbled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry," he grimaced, grabbing her hand. George could have cursed himself. When would he and his big mouth ever learn? It wasn't a difficult concept. Think then speak. "I wasn't talking about you, of course. Oh God no. You're gonna be the most beautiful pregnant lady that anyone has ever seen. In fact, I can barely look at you right now because you're practically glowing already."
"Fuck off George," she muttered. "The last thing I need right now is you making a joke out of this."
"You're right," George answered, feeling guilty. But he couldn't help it. Humour was his thing. In any situation, good or bad. It just came out of him before he could stop it. And usually if he could make someone smile or laugh, they would feel a little better about whatever was going on. Even though he knew that in this situation no amount of joking or laughter was going to help. "You need to talk to Liebgott."
"No way," she shook her head. "I aint telling him or anyone."
"It's his baby. Don't you think he has a right to know?" George frowned.
"It aint him who's gonna get kicked out of here and sent back to their family in shame, is it?" she snapped.
"Well no offence Ev, you can't just ignore it. Give it another couple of months and it's gonna be pretty obvious to everyone."
"You think I don't fucking know that?" she glared at him, before putting her head in her hands and sighing. "I just need some time to process this before I tell Joe, ok?"
"Alright," George agreed reluctantly. "But you can't take too much time. You need to sort this out and fast."
"I know," she mumbled. She closed her eyes and wished with all her heart that it was just a bad dream.
With any luck she would wake up in the morning and this would all just be a figment of her imagination. Wouldn't it?