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.
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We Happy Few | Band of Brothers
Historical Fiction"Women don't belong in war" was something Margot Kessler and Antonia Winslow heard day in and day out, but never once did they let those words deter them from serving their country alongside the men. They were unbelievably strong and skilled beyond...
