When the loud, blaring train horn sounded as the locomotive pulled into the Philadelphia train station, Margot ripped her head off of the window—where it had been resting as she slept—and she sat upright. With bleary eyes and a slightly fogged head, it took the woman a few seconds to pull herself back into reality and realize what was going on. By the time the train attendant announced that they had arrived in Philadelphia, however, she completely remembered what had happened.
For a few short moments, it had all seemed like a dream; every last second of it. Returning from war, going home, finding out her dad had died, going to see Annie, leaving to find Bill—all of it felt like one big elaborate dream, and when she awoke with her head pressed against the cool glass of the window instead of the ground somewhere in Europe, she almost couldn't believe it.
As the train slowed to a stop and the people around her jumped to their feet, Margot shook the dazed feeling from her head and joined them, her bag over her shoulder and the letter with Bill's address in it in her hand. Thankfully, Bill had given her his address early on in the letter exchanges, and thankfully, she hadn't lost it.
Stepping out onto the station platform and pushing her way through the bustling crowds of people, Margot worked her way toward the entrance where she could hopefully catch a cab. Since she had caught an early train, it was only about noon, so with the hot afternoon sun blaring down on her, the woman stood on the curb with her arm in the air. After a minute or so, a yellow vehicle pulled up next to her and she hopped in, immediately relishing in the feeling of being out of the all-consuming heat.
Turning around in his seat, the driver—an older man with gray hair and a cap on—flashed a welcoming smile. "Where to, ma'am?"
"Ugh," Margot unfolded the letter and scanned for the address. "Here." She showed the letter to the man and pointed out the street name and house number.
"Sure thing." He nodded before turning back around and putting the vehicle into drive. As the cab pulled away from the curb, Margot drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes, her mind immediately wandering to the last time she had seen Bill; the memory was clear as day, one she could never forget even if she tried.
She remembered seeing him sitting there against the tree, his leg blown apart beyond recognition and the snow around him painted with bright red blood, but yet, somehow, he was smiling and cracking jokes. The last thing he had told her and Annie was to be careful and not get themselves killed, and in a moment of almost selfish pride, she smiled at the fact that she had managed to stand by his final request.
Somehow, someway, she had managed to survive the war with only a few scars, which was more than she could say for a lot of her brothers in arms.
Hearing a voice that didn't belong to her subconscious, Margot blinked a few times and looked back up at the driver. "I'm sorry," she apologized for zoning out. "Did you say something?"
"I was just asking if you lived here or if you were visiting," he chuckled at her slightly bewildered tone.
"Oh." Margot sighed. "Just visiting."
"It really is a great city," he kept up the small talk as he turned off of the main road and into a more residential area. "I've lived here all my life."
Margot smiled and gave a small nod even though the driver's eyes were focused on the road. Her nerves were much too intense for her to desire much talking at the moment, so she hoped the driver would catch on and continue the ride in silence, which he did.
After about another five minutes of driving down residential roads with small, cute little homes that lined the streets—many with kids playing out front or women doing yard work—the cab pulled over to the curb and stopped in front of a completely normal-looking blue house. There was a single car in the driveway and the windows were closed with the curtains drawn, probably in an attempt to keep out the heat. It almost looked too normal, and if it weren't for the large numbers beside the door that matched the ones in the letter, Margot would have sworn there was no way Bill lived there.
"Here we are, ma'am." The driver turned back around again. "I hope you enjoy your visit."
Handing over the appropriate amount of cash, Margot thanked the driver before stepping out of the vehicle and onto the sidewalk. As the cab pulled away, Margot was struck with flashbacks of when she had first arrived at Annie's house and how the feeling was almost the same; she was almost frozen with an all-consuming fear that whoever was inside the house wouldn't be happy to see her. The only difference was it wasn't the middle of the night and it wasn't raining.
Margot almost turned around to head down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Maybe this was all a big mistake. Maybe this little adventure of hers was stupid and foolish. But then Margot remembered her promise to Joe—her promise to see him again and collect her dog tags. Even though it would have been so easy for her to just give up and forget the past four years of her life ever happened, she couldn't.
Finally, after copious amounts of internal debating, Margot walked up to the front door, her heart pounding in her chest and her grip on her bag weakening due to the perspiration that was gathering on her palm. Then, in a split second, now or never decision, she raised her free hand and knocked on the front door three times.
Margot knew that if there had been adequate time she would have regretted her action immediately, but only mere seconds after knocking, the door swung open and a woman stood before her. Margot instantly knew the beautiful, dark-haired, bright-eyed woman was Frances even though she had never seen her before in her life; Bill's descriptions couldn't have been more spot-on if he had tried.
"Hello." Frances eyed Margot quizzically, obviously having no clue who she was at first glance. "Can I help you?"
"Hi." Margot adjusted the bag strap on her shoulder. "I'm Margot Kessler."
France's face instantly lit up and she pulled Margot in for a tight hug. "It's so good to finally meet you," she gushed, her reaction alleviating most of Margot's nerves right off the bat. "Bill has told me so much about you! Wow, I can't believe you're actually here."
"I hope that's alright." Margot's eyes shifted over France's shoulder to look into the house. "I did send a letter but I think I got here before it did. I just came to visit and, well ... talk to Bill about a few things."
"Oh, it's more than alright." Frances stepped back into the house and motioned for Margot to follow her. "Bill is going to be so thrilled to see you. He hasn't seen much of anyone since getting back from the hospital. To be honest, I think he's getting a little sick of me."
Margot laughed, glad to see that Frances was also equally as friendly as she was beautiful. Bill really had snagged himself quite the catch. "Trust me, after how fondly he used to talk about you and how much he missed you, I don't think he will ever get sick of you."
"Well, I hope you're right." Frances took Margot's bag from her and set it down beside the door. "Bill should just be sitting on the deck out back. Go on through and say hello."
"Okay, thank you." Margot left her stuff with Frances and made her way through the small but warm and cozy home. Upon reaching the back door, her breath caught in her throat when she spotted the man she hadn't seen in months through the screen door.
Bill was sitting in a lawn chair on the deck, his back to the door and a drink in his hand. Absentmindedly, Margot's eyes drifted down and she saw the prosthetic leg that he had complained about so many times before in his letters; the damn leg that he said caused him more pain than losing his real one had.
Stepping forward, Margot pushed the door open with a faint squeak from the old and worn-out hinges and stepped out onto the wooden deck. "I was beginning to wonder if the sink had swallowed you whole while you were doing dishes," Bill spoke, his Philly accent just as strong as ever as he kept his back turned to the door, clearly believing it was his fiance who had come to see him.
Margot chuckled a little, the sound of his voice bringing a happy grin to her face. "Well, you know me. I never was very good at doing chores," she answered.
Instantly recognizing that the voice didn't belong to his fiance, Bill craned his neck to look back, and when his eyes landed on Margot, his mouth fell open. "Holy-" He set his beer down on the ground beside himself and slowly pushed himself to his feet again, struggling a little with the prosthetic leg but still making it seem pretty seamless.
"Hey, Gonorrhea." Margot stood across from a face she hadn't set eyes on in what seemed like forever. "Good to see you."
Bill cracked a smirk and pulled Margot in for a hug, much like Frances had done earlier. "You know I fucking hate that nickname," he muttered into her hair as he squeezed her tight, almost like he needed to prove she was really there.
"I know." She struggled to hold back the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. "But it's just too goddamn funny."
The two stood there holding each other for probably two minutes or so, neither one speaking or even moving a muscle. Frances was standing by the back door at that point, but she didn't dare interrupt the reunion, so instead, she just watched with a joyous smile spread across her face.
"God, I missed you so much." Margot stepped back from the hug and wiped the tears that had yet to fall. "It was so hard without you. When you left ... it was hard."
Bill placed both hands on Margot's face and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I wish I could have been there," he told her.
Without thinking, Margot grabbed onto him again and tried to push all the bad thoughts away. "I'm glad you weren't," she admitted.
"I missed you too." Bill sighed and continued to embrace her. "Glad to see you didn't go and get yourself killed."
The corners of Margot's mouth curled. "I sure as hell tried a few times," she chuckled.
"Well, then I'm glad to see that none of your attempts were successful."
"I'm glad to see that you're doing well." Margot finally released the man. "You have a wonderful home and an even more wonderful fiance."
Bill nodded and looked down at his leg. "Yup, one and a half legs and all."
Margot exhaled as she studied his prosthetic. "Still no full disability?"
"Nope."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It wasn't you who blew my fuckin' leg off."
"I'm still sorry."
"And I appreciate it." Bill placed a hand on Margot's shoulder. "So what brings you down to Philly?"
Margot smirked. "What, I can't just come to visit my old friend?"
"You can." Bill rolled his eyes. "But I have a feeling that's not all you're here to do."
"You're a smart man. No wonder they made you Platoon Sergeant." Margot gave him a hardy, friendly clap on the arm. "I do actually have some ulterior motives. I was wondering if you knew anything about where Joe went after the two of you were released from the hospital."
Bill grinned wide. "So you're looking for Joe, huh?"
"You seem surprised."
"No." Bill motioned for Margot to come with him back inside the house just as Frances pushed the back door open. "Not surprised, happy. And lucky for you, you came to the right man."