It seemed as though Margot had been in the same situation way too many times recently; standing on the sidewalk, her bag in her hand, staring up at a house that stood before her. This time, however, it felt as though she had never shown up at someone's house unannounced before in her entire life—it felt wrong.
Margot couldn't exactly pinpoint the exact feeling that was running rampant through her body and making her stomach twist into a symphony of knots, but she was able to pick out an overwhelming sense of intrusion that kept internally telling her to turn around and leave.
The house was an older one and was slightly rundown, but for the neighbourhood it was situated in, it didn't stand out against the other homes around it as being any less taken care of or any less loved. The house was also considerably smaller than Annie's or Bill's had been, but considering Annie had two parents and three siblings and Bill had a fiance, it made sense. Through the window, however, Margot could clearly see that it was much tidier and put together on the inside.
From what Margot could tell by only standing on the sidewalk, Joe Toye's home mirrored him exactly; rough around the edges on the outside but surprisingly warm and welcoming on the inside.
The thought brought a small smile to Margot's face for a split second before the feeling of intrusion flooded back again and the realization that Joe Toye was inside of the home before her and had no idea she was standing right outside came to her.
"Can I help you with something?" an older man stepped out from the house to the right of Joe's and onto the porch.
Margot startled a little, having been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had sort of checked out of the world around her for a while. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "What was that?"
"Are you lost?" he asked again, a warm smile on his face indicating that he wasn't the least bit inconvenienced by offering assistance. "I don't mean to pry but I don't do a whole lot during the day besides sit in my chair and people watch out the window, and you've been standing there for quite a while now."
"Oh." Margot chuckled a little when she imagined how odd she must have looked eyeing up a house for the past ten minutes or so. "No, no, I'm not lost, but thank you anyway. I'm just thinking."
"Thinking?" He slowly lowered himself onto a beautifully crafted wooden bench that sat on his porch. "Well, I do a lot of that these days. Perhaps I can offer some assistance?"
Margot looked back at Joe's house before taking a few steps closer to the man's porch. "Perhaps you can." She decided to take the kind old man up on his offer. "That house belongs to someone who I haven't seen in quite a while and I'm trying to work up the courage to knock on the door. Do you have any advice for a situation like that?"
"That depends." The man waved for her to come even closer. "Who exactly is the someone inside that house?"
"Well, he's your neighbour." Margot laughed a little. "Don't you know him?"
"Sweetheart, even with my people watching all day long, I can only see so much through my window," he said matter-of-factly. "I've seen him maybe once or twice and I've lived here for over twenty years."
Margot dropped her bag to her feet and placed a hand on her hip. "You know, usually that would worry me, but this is Joe we're talking about, so oddly enough I'm not that surprised."
"So, enlighten me, who exactly is this 'Joe'?"
Margot searched her brain for the right way to describe Joe before finally settling on, "He's a friend."
"Well, if he's a friend, then my advice is to just go on over and knock on the door," the man stated. "Life is too short to worry about answers that can only be found by seeking them out yourself."
YOU ARE READING
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...
