So Long, Marianne.

"Um," I stuttered over my words. How could I describe Clara to Marianne? "She was...nice.. Not very pretty; to me at least. Another fella who was staying with us and he became very taken with her. I don't know if anything happened with them."

I hoped my answer wasn't too vague.

"Oh,"

The comfortable silence took over again. Marianne's stocking covered legs were flesh against mine. Her head lolled onto my shoulder, eyelashes tickling on the back of my neck. It seemed like some kind of cliche, this moment going on. I kissed the crown of her head, breathing in her familiar scent. Suddenly, she was gone; out from next to me and into the chair in a matter of seconds.

"Night," Marianne said, sliding deeper into the chair. "For real this time,"

"Yeah, night," I tried my best not to sound disappointed.

*

The hardest part about coming back, besides the frequent nightmares, was not cursing. I'm sure being asked to get "the fucking butter" or to "get the hell out of my damn way" wasn't appreciated. I kept it under control as best I could around Stirling, but Marianne always heard it worse. She didn't mind at all, it's actually very funny she had said, but I still felt bad.

The next morning, Marianne and her bedding were gone. I sighed loudly, placing my hands
behind my head. It was boring beyond belief to be bedridden without any distractions. I figured I would be able to walk soon. I could stand, which was great. I briefly considered trying to walk, but without anyone nearby, I'd probably wind up killing myself. I closed my eyes, wondering where I would be, what I would be doing, if I was still fighting.

I must've dozed off, for when I woke up, it was later then before and someone was knocking hard on the door. I made a strange sort of noise that meant come in. I half opened my eyes, expecting Stirling to come running in, asking me to play a board game or tell him stories about the war. Instead, it was Marianne, holding a huge tray of food that looked almost as delicious as the girl holding it. I was suddenly starving.

I sat up as fast as I could without killing myself, and she placed the tray on my lap. I picked up the fork and dug in.

"I made you chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite! I mean, I hope they're still your favorite. I made some eggs and toast, too." She sat down on the foot of the bed, careful not to sit on my feet. She grabbed a piece of toast off the plate.

"Hey," she rolled over onto her stomach and elbowed me. "Shelly and Kevin are coming over, they wanted to see you. Is that ok? I told them it was fine. Ahhh, they're getting married y'know! There's so much we have to fill you in on."

The thought of seeing my closest friends again instantly brightened my mood. Shelly was Marianne's best 'girl friend,' by default making her a close friend to me. Shelly was funny, the friend I could always joke with. When she found Kevin, I was grateful; someone else to talk to when I needed an escape from the ladies. It's not like I didn't have other friends, but Kevin and I just got on better.

"That's fine," I said.

Shortly after that, I heard shoes against pavement outside and familiar voices already fighting. Like an old married couple already, I thought to myself. Shelly let herself in like she always does and ran up the stairs.

"Where is this old geezer I call a friend?" Shelly's voice filled my ears before she was even in the room.

"Right here, you blind broad." I retorted. She walked over and gave me a tight embrace; her thick curls were everywhere and I couldn't see. I slipped an arm around her back. "Hey,"

"After all this time all you have to say is 'hey'?" Shelly smiled crookedly at me.

"Apparently so,"

"Ugh, I missed you," She grabbed my hand. "I thought you died for sure."

"Thanks for the support," I deadpanned. Kevin came up behind Shelly; I thought he was going to give me a handshake, but instead he hugged me. Kevin was never an affectionate one with anybody but Shelly.

"Glad to know I've been missed," I smiled at everyone around me.

Marianne moved closer to me so Kevin and Shelly could sit down. Everyone dug into the remains of food on my plate.

"Who made this?" Shelly asked, holding up a piece of toast. Kevin stole it from her, biting into it.

"I did," Marianne said, her vocal chords strumming against my shoulder.

Kevin started choking in a dramatic way, almost spitting out his food.

"Hey!" Marianne sat up fast, crumbs flying everywhere. "My cooking isn't that bad."

"Yes it is," Shelly teased.

"Personally, Iove Marianne's cooking." I said triumphantly.

"Oh, but you love everything she does." Shelly said into my face, with an expression like she knew something I didn't.