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( HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND? )
EVERYTHING SEEMED TO HURT.
A month went by. A month since Gordon was pronounced dead. Killed in action, the telegram had read. Edith was barely living, praying that Steve would be home for leave soon, to hug her and comfort her and just be with her. She didn't want to be alone anymore.
She tried to act like everything was normal. The only normal thing was that the plumbing was acting up. The bath would run so cold she'd get into it and shiver, even when the only tap she'd turn on was the hot one. The pipe under the sink would drip, but only at night, as if mocking her. It reminded how alone she was because Steve and Bucky were still at war and Gordon was dead. She had called two plumbers and apparently the water would work for them just fine.
Connie said it was the grief. Dorothy and Colette just gave her pitying looks as she sipped on tea that tasted like ice. The world just seemed bleaker now that she didn't have the hope that Gordon was coming home.
Edith spent a lot of time in the church. She usually wasn't very religious. But, every time she glanced down at the blue ribbon on her left hand, this feeling of hopelessness came over her. Even though, if anyone could get back to her, it was Steve, she couldn't help but feel an impending doom about the whole thing. Like this World War was really sent to take away millions of lives and the hero that had become the symbol for freedom for not just America was going to be on the casualty list. On the top of the casualty list because he had such a hand in the defeating of the Axis.
The dread is probably what kept her shivering underneath the blanket as she held the pillow that was starting to smell like Steve against her chest. Sleep evaded her most nights, that or she woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of the pipe dripping and Gordon calling out to her for help.
It was in March, at least, she thought it was March, when there was a knock on her door. It was another one of those knocks, those ones that held dread and damning knowledge behind them and Edith almost didn't get up from where she was fixing Steve's shirt. It hadn't even really been that wrecked, it was just a small patch, and she was determined to get it fixed before he came home but her hands just wouldn't stop shaking.
The second rap of knuckles made Edith sigh and put the shirt down, getting up and move to answer the door. She didn't want to, didn't want the news that she already knew but didn't want to hear. Steve wasn't home for leave, Bucky wasn't out with his family. Plus, neither of them would knock like that. They both knew where the spare key was.
When she opened the door, a woman was on the other side. Edith blinked, taking in the pressed shirt, Oxford heels, and the white blouse, her brunette hair in immaculate curls, her lips painted red. She was absolutely gorgeous. This woman exuded authority and if Edith was feeling anything but cold, she probably would have smiled and complimented her. However, in this circumstance, she's pretty sure that she was going to break her heart.
