As Alice got out of the car, the wind hit her in the face causing her to shrink back. But Kitty's enthusiasm as she danced in place on the sidewalk to try to stay warm forced her to get over the fear of the cold and join her and Blanche. She closed her driver's side door with a thud.
"It's cute," Blanche told Kitty. "I like the white."
They'd bundled into the Nixon car after breakfast. The destination: St. Ignatius church, on the other end of the city where Kitty and Harry had planned their wedding for Saturday. Alice had to admit Blanche was right. The three sets of dark, heavy doors sat in contrast against white stone, including expertly sculpted tympana. It looked like a more modern attempt at Gothic.
"Isn't it gorgeous!" Kitty grinned. "Come on!"
Alice laughed as she moved next to Blanche. Sparing her a side glance, she grinned to see Blanche watching Kitty hurry forward with the same amusement. They followed. Kitty moved to the stairs up on the right, bounding forward like a small puppy. The other two followed more slowly.
"Have you and Lew talked about weddings much?" Blanche asked her. She glanced over at Alice. "Not to rush you, of course. But my mom was talking about it before I came east again."
With a small shake of her head, Alice shot her a smile. "Talked about it? Several times. We always come to the same conclusion: we have no idea what we should do."
"You should just get married," Blanche argued.
They hit the top step together, shoes hitting the concrete as one. The door had already started closing behind Kitty and Blanche caught it just before it slammed shut. Alice went in first, and Blanche behind. The vestibule space was small. Quiet, peaceful.
To the left, a small wood table with some rosaries and prayer cards, and to the right, Alice found a painting of what she guessed to be Mary. A pretty woman, if a bit sad. Alice followed Blanche after Kitty into the main space of the church.
Small. That was the first word to come to her mind. The walls inside were a pale cream color, with some stained glass windows. Maybe a hundred people would've fit inside, packed close together. At the front, an altar had two candles to either side, and behind it on the wall hung a massive crucifix.
"Roster count. We lost well over half the men in Bastogne. We're down to sixty-three."
The candles, the crucifix. Alice froze. Memories crashed into her, of Ron and Lip and George, of Foy and Rachamps.
Her chest tightened. The cold held a tight grip on her. A death grip. Tears filled her eyes. She could almost see them there, the living and the dead. Skip had always carried a rosary. Skip had always prayed. She'd been like Jeanne d'Arc, or so he'd teased.
The candles, the crucifix, the rosaries. She could all but hear the angelic choir. Her throat tightened, trying to hold back tears. But all it did was cause her to cough.
Alice would have screamed if she'd known it wouldn't have alerted half the town. Instead, she turned tail and hurried out the door. Her hands shook as she grabbed the door to the outside and thrust it open. Frigid air choked her.
She sped down the steps. Her heels clicked against the concrete. When she at last reached the car, she unlocked it and slipped inside. Alice couldn't hold back her tears much longer. But she couldn't let her makeup run. She couldn't ruin Kitty's wedding. She couldn't do this, not here and not now.
In through the nose, out through the mouth. That's how Gene had taught her. Letting her head rest against the seat, she tried to practice it. Relax. Alice couldn't let the fear control her. But then the faces of Skip and Alex and Bill and Joe took over her mind and made it worse.
"Jesus Christ, Alice. Are you tryin' to get yourself killed?"
Alice shuddered. Had Ron been right? At the time, she'd rolled her eyes. But then, she'd neglected herself for a long time. Maybe if some German had taken the shot, she'd have been grateful. It seemed odd, now. A year later, the prospect of living was less scary than dying. For a while, it had been the other way around.
A tap on the window made her turn. Blanche's rich brown hair fell about her shoulders. Once Alice shot her a small smile, the woman opened the passenger door and slipped inside.
"You ran out of there at top speed," Blanche commented. "I'll skip the useless question of 'are you okay' because the answer's no. So what made you upset?"
Alice had to appreciate the woman's frankness. It reminded her of Nix, but so totally opposite as well. Where Nix would play little games to get truths out, Blanche just asked. But both didn't give up.
"It's hard to explain," Alice admitted. She ran a hand through her hair, and then rubbed the side of her neck for a moment. "The last Christian church I was in... I don't particularly want to think about it."
Blanche nodded. They sat in silence for several minutes. Only Alice's faltering breaths made any noise. Alice hoped that Blanche had let Kitty know they'd be outside; she didn't want her to worry.
"What you saw, what you did in Europe," Blanche started, "I can't understand it. But there's not a doubt in my mind, especially now that I know you, that you did your best." Turning her head to look at Alice, she shot her a small smile. "Alice, you're fantastic. My brother adores you. My mom likes you. I hope... I hope you like you."
Her breath caught. Tears were in Blanche's eyes, but they never fell. Alice grabbed her hand. Hers was cold, shockingly so. But Alice refused to let go. Even as the other woman closed her eyes, Alice's own scrunched up with unbidden tears. She looked down at the clutch.
It took another five minutes for them to calm down. More specifically, five minutes for Alice to regain composure and entertain the idea of going back inside. But Kitty was their priority that day, no matter what.
Unfortunately, even as Alice stood at the base of the stairs, she couldn't force herself up them. Blanche looked at her with pity. Alice sighed. "Go on in. I'm gonna smoke, and then I'll... well, I'll try to come up."
Blanche nodded. Before long, Alice found herself standing alone at the sidewalk. The area barely had anything but a parking lot and a few residential houses. So she stood alone.
Wrestling a cigarette from her pack in her purse, she desperately tried to light it. But the flame of her lighter kept flickering away in the wind. She grunted in anger when it finally caught. A bit of warmth in the cold, and a bit of comfort in despair. Still, Gene's scolding never left her mind. She had to watch herself.
Twenty minutes later, her cigarette had long died and she still stood alone. Alice didn't mind it though. Her thoughts had become too chaotic, too upsetting. She didn't want to be with Kitty, bouncing off the walls, however appropriate that was.
"You look like shit."
Alice straightened up. Ron Speirs, cigarette between his lips, strode over to her like nothing was out of the ordinary. She nearly laughed. "Ron!" Hurrying over to him, Alice grabbed him in a hug. She started tearing up again. "Goddamnit." When she drew back, she wiped at her cheeks and shook her head. "Goddamnit Ron. Sneaking up on me?"
"I wasn't sneaking. Apparently you've lost your touch," he argued. "I called Harry. He said to meet them here."
She nodded. "They're supposed to be here soon." Glancing at her watch, she nodded again, as if to reassure herself. "Kitty's inside, and Nix's sister Blanche, if you want to meet them."
"So, what are you doing out here?" he looked around. They'd moved back over to the wall in front of the church between the two sets of stairs up. He watched her wrestle a cigarette.
Sighing, she turned to him. He looked good. Clean-shaven, put together, but more reserved than she remembered him. The war hadn't skipped Ron Speirs, evidently. "Do I really look bad?"
That made him crack a smile. He shook his head. "You look stressed."
For a few minutes, they stood in silence, smoking together. Only after did Alice find the courage to speak again. "The church reminds me of Rachamps." At first, she couldn't look at him.
When she did, he just watched her and then turned back to the church building. More silence, and then he nodded. "Then let's go in."
"What?"
"You're going to have to be in there for the wedding," he reminded her. "I'm guessing you don't want to run out of there on their wedding day."
With a huff, she turned from Ron to the stairs at their left. He was right of course. He was always right. Really, it was infuriating. Without waiting for him, she dropped her second cigarette and hurried to the stairs. If Ron could do it, she could do it.
Alice halted at the doors. They were dark metal, covered in rivets. The handle burned her bare skin from the cold. But she pulled it open anyways.
The scent of burning incense and candles hit her again. Someone had started at the piano. But Ron moved past her, so she followed. They took in the scene together, the quiet peace of the sanctuary contrasting the fear that gripped her heart. She wondered, briefly, if Ron felt the same.
If he did, he didn't show it. Not a surprise. Alice stood beside him a few feet inside past the vestibule. She saw Kitty at the front, chatting with a priest, Blanche beside her. Even as shivers crept up her spine at the eeriness of being back in a church, the women turned her way. Blanche's smile fell a bit at the sight of Ron, but Kitty just waved and turned back to her conversation.
"Ok, so the brunette, that's Nix's sister Blanche. The other one is Kitty Grogan," Alice told him.
But just as they went to move further into the church, the doors behind them opened again. Nix, Harry, and Dick wandered in, the first drinking from his silver flask. They all paused.
"There he is," Nix said, laughing.
A woman at a side altar hissed at him to be quiet. Alice had to hide her smirk. It didn't take long for Ron to shake hands with the other three men. They all moved back into the vestibule.
"Glad you could make it," Harry told him. With a grin, he gestured back through the door that Alice had just moved away from. "Did you meet her yet?"
"No." Ron shook his head. "Alice was about to introduce me. It's a nice church though."
"Yeah, we like it," Harry agreed. "Come-"
Kitty opening the door interrupted him. She walked into the vestibule, Blanche in toe, grinning from ear to ear. Next to Alice, she looked at Ron and then Harry.
"Kitty, this is Captain Ron Speirs, Ron, this is Kitty."
"So nice to meet you!" Kitty took his hand. "I'm sorry you had to put up with my fiance for so long. Truly tough circumstances.
As they all chuckled, Ron shook his head and turned to Blanche. "You must be Nixon's sister?"
She nodded, forcing a smile. "Blanche Nixon. It's a pleasure."
Not for the first time, Alice had to marvel at the poise and grace Blanche managed to hold herself with. Her smile could kill, and she could put it to use whenever she saw fit. But Alice knew she didn't feel it. She could tell, like the way in the car she'd been so close to tears. A victim of her own war, perhaps.
That night, when Kitty had returned to her house, Blanche volunteered to spend the night there to let the men have a night together. Even as the former officers sat together at Harry's wooden table, Alice watched Kitty's car roll down the road from the front window. They were an odd pair. Blanche, a little hurt and a little sad, and Kitty, exuberant and effortlessly kind, but both struggling to understand the broken people who had come home.
She smelled Nix's cologne as he moved in the dark to stand next to her at the window. He didn't say anything at first, but she could hear the movement of his flask as he took a drink. Blanche's words from earlier rang in her ears. I hope you like you, she said.
Alice turned left. The light from down the hall spilled only a little into the living room. A gentle snow had started to fall outside. But Nix was there. He loved her. She knew that.
"Blanche was worried about you," he said, trying to keep his voice low. No mirth, just concern.
Alice shook her head. She flashed a tiny smile. "Rachamps," she said.
"Ah."
"I miss them." Her voice trembled. "I didn't expect to, not this much. But whenever it snows I think of Skip and Alex. Every damn time." She tried to wipe away the tears that flowed without her permission.
"I'm sorry."
That was all he could say. Alice knew. She didn't expect more. But when he pressed a soft, gentle kiss on her lips and she could taste her own tears, Alice just shuddered. He was warm. Unlike the snow, unlike pews in a church, unlike the night outside the window. When she pulled away from the kiss after a few moments, she wiped her eyes again.
"Are you setting up poker?" she asked.
Nix smirked. "Always. Not sure we want you to play though, given your luck."
She refused to give him anything more than a laugh. Instead, she just moved past him down the hall to the dining table in the kitchen. Dick and Harry and Ron, all three of them, sat chatting quietly. They weren't in ODs, or Ike jackets, but it was still them. They'd always be there. She had to believe that.