After her breakdown, Alice didn't stay awake much longer. By the time she got inside again, she was exhausted, emotionally and physically. It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to think about Germany and her family. Too long, maybe.

Spina had shown her upstairs, to the extra bedroom. The bed felt glorious. For some reason, her body seemed to expect hard ground. But the mattress and sheets hugged her tightly and she managed to sleep mostly straight through. 

When she woke up that morning, Alice could hear Carol downstairs already. Seven in the morning, and the girl was up and running around. A true champion. Alice couldn't help but smile as she finished putting on her makeup.

Alice took the stairs carefully. Her small heels clicked against the cherry wood. It was a nice house. Small, but comfortable. She liked it.

"Miss Alice!" Carol came bounding around the corner at top speed, down the hall, and almost crashed into her. "Come, come. It's breakfast!"

Her grin widened as she followed Carol through the hall back to where she assumed the kitchen sat. It had pastel aqua cabinets and cream counters, and drawings in crayon were hung up all over the place. Alice smiled even wider.

"Good morning, Spina," Alice said.

He turned around where he was messing with breakfast. "Carol, did you wake her up!"

"No, daddy. Miss Alice was awake," she argued.

When Spina glanced up, Alice nodded. "She didn't wake me up. Though I wouldn't have minded." When a small hand grabbed onto her dress, Alice looked down again. She crouched so she was face to face with the toddler's brown eyes. "What did you need, Miss Carol?"

"Come see this. I drew a doggy."

Alice heard Spina groan but she just grinned at the pure excitement in the face of the little girl. "I would love to see your doggy picture. Show me!"

Carol grabbed her sleeve and pulled Alice to the wooden table. Crayons and half eaten breakfast were spread over it, and as she clambered onto her chair, Alice couldn't help but smile. Carol grabbed a right hand of eggs and stuck them in her mouth before shoving three pieces of paper with dogs drawn on them and refusing the rest of her breakfast.

The green one had to be Alice's favorite. "These are great, Carol! I love them."

"Daddy wants a dog," she told her. "Mommy says not yet. I want this one." Carol pointed to the green drawing.

"Carol, there aren't green dogs," Spina said. He plopped some moderately burnt toast and a glass of water in front of Alice. With a grimace, he just shrugged. "Never was very good at the whole cooking thing."

"Daddy's a bad cook," Carol said. 

Then she started giggling, and Alice joined in. With a laugh, she gave Carol a tiny hug. "Well, your daddy can't be good at everything. That wouldn't be very fair now would it?"

"Oh daddy's not. He's a bad cook. And daddy can't draw." 

She pointed to a set of stick figure drawings. Alice had to admit they were less than stellar. When she looked up at Spina who had tried to hide his groan behind a coffee mug, she just laughed. Spina hid behind a newspaper.

"I'm sure your mommy's wonderful though," Alice added.

"Yes. Mommy's good at everything," Carol agreed. She continued to draw, adding longer fur to the green dog. The crayon had gotten down to barely more than a nub. "Mommy's the best."

Alice smirked. "Well that's good."

"Daddy, is Uncle Bill coming today? And Uncle Babe?"

Spina dropped the newspaper and yawned. Then he nodded. "Yeah, they're gonna hang out with Alice."

"I like Miss Alice," Carol decided. "She likes my dogs."

"I do like your dogs," she agreed, chuckling.

Alice set to eating her small breakfast. Carol talked a mile a minute, eager to explain that each doggy had a name, and that she really wanted a green one. Never mind that green ones didn't exist. She learned quite a bit about Carol. Her favorite color was green. No surprise there. She liked going to the park. She really, really wanted a dog and really didn't like cats. Alice refrained from mentioning Spot.

"Do you have a dog?" Carol asked her.

Alice smiled. "Not yet. But we want to get one."

"Are you married?"

"Not yet." She glanced up at Spina who just shrugged, but couldn't fully hide his smirk. "Soon though."

"What kind of dog d'ya want?"

"We haven't talked about it."

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Lewis. But I call him Nix."

"That's a dumb name."

Alice burst out laughing. She didn't know if Carol meant Lewis or Nix, but Spina looked aghast either way. She assured him it was fine. "I think it's a nice name."

"Why?"

"Because I love him."

"Why?"

Alice looked over at Spina again. "Because... he's my boyfriend."

Saved by the bell. The doorbell rang, jolting Carol from her interrogation of Alice. "Be right back!" She leapt from the table, her feet slamming against the wood and then the rug. 

"Carol! Don't open the door! Shit." Spina threw his newspaper down and hurried off after his daughter. "Carol!"

"Why!"

"Because you're a kid."

"I'm three, daddy."

"Yeah, you're a kid. Get back!"

Alice couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness. But she supposed such was the way with kids. Carol in some ways reminded her of Percy Bratt. Personalities too big for their tiny bodies. When the door opened and Carol shrieked, Alice had to cover her ears. 

"Jesus Christ, kid. The pair of lungs on you!" 

Alice froze. Bill and Babe were back. She forced her rapid heartbeat to calm and got up from the table. The previous night, Bill had complained about still using the prosthetic leg, eager to get onto crutches and just get over the whole damn thing. When she came around the corner, she could see why. Carol bounded into him, and he stumbled a bit. Nothing Bill couldn't handle, but she imagined it got annoying.

"There they are. Late as ever," Alice heckled. "Carol, did your daddy tell you that all three of them were very very annoying when we worked together?"

"No!" Her smile lit up the room as they moved into the living room from the previous night. "Why?"

Alice grinned. "They never do what they're told."

"Neither do I!"

"Then you're just like your daddy."

All three of the men huffed various protests. But as Babe went with Spina into the kitchen to grab coffees, Carol continued crawling all over Bill in his chair. He was really good with kids, something Alice wouldn't have really seen coming. But now that she saw him with Carol, she knew he was a great father.

When she'd gotten the letter that Frannie and he'd had a kid, she'd just gotten back to the states. She'd called, said her congrats, agreed she'd visit sooner rather than later. And then she'd heard his name. Eugene. Alice still got choked up thinking about it.

"So what's the plan for the day?" Alice asked. Finally tired of using Bill as a jungle gym, Carol said she'd be 'right back' and ran off into the house. "Ready to give me a tour."

"Fucking right. 'Bout damn time you got your ass here, Sweetheart" he told her. "Babe and Me figured we'd show ya South Philly, and then you can meet Eugene and Frannie."

She smiled. "Sounds good to me. Where am I staying for the night?"

"Figured you'd stay with us," Bill suggested. "But you could stay here."

Alice shook her head. "No. I want to meet Frannie. The woman who stole your heart."

"Good choice."

Just as Babe and Spina returned with coffee cups, the door handle started jiggling. Moments later, even as Spina threw his leg out to stop Carol, who appeared out of nowhere, from bursting past, a woman with light brown hair walked in. Her keys went on a hook next to the door. 

"Agnes!" Spina let out a deep breath. "Thank God."

"You can't handle your own daughter, sweetie?" But Agnes' smile dropped a little as she saw Alice, Bill, and Babe in the living room. "You must be Alice Klein?"

"Yes." Alice stood and walked over. She extended a hand. "Agnes Spina?"

"That's me." She looked a bit more hesitant than Alice hoped she would be. But Agnes looked past her and waved at the boys. "Hey Babe, hey Bill. How are you?"

"We're good!" Babe grinned and handed her the cup of coffee he'd set to start drinking. "Coffee?"

"Thank you, no I'm alright." She turned back to Alice. "So. You worked in Europe with Easy Company?"

"Yeah," Alice started. "I helped. Some." She didn't know how much to say, unsure of how much exactly Spina had already told his wife. "I'm from France. I was a translator for French and German."

"Ah yes. I remember now," she added, smiling. "Well, I hope New Jersey isn't too bad to you. I prefer Pennsylvania myself."

"That's cause you're a true Philly gal," Bill told her. "Ain't about to turn tail and be a traitor to your kind."

Agnes cracked up. "No, I suppose not." After another moment, where Carol bounded back in and attached herself to Agnes' leg, she just shook her head. Then she smiled. "Enjoy yourselves. Try not to get poor Alice into too much trouble."

With a small laugh, Alice just relished the complaints of Bill and Babe behind her. They half-glared at her when she turned around. As Agnes, Spina, and Carol moved into the kitchen, she just shrugged. "Ready?"

"Let's go," Babe agreed. 

His infectious enthusiasm made her grin, and soon the three of them moved out into the cold and then into Babe's car. It was small, somewhat old. But Alice liked it. It reminded her a bit of before the war. Bill insisted she take the front so she could see Philadelphia properly, and though she objected, she eventually made a big deal of accepting his gracious offer.

It was too cold to do much outside drive around, but Babe pointed out the Philadelphia Athletics' field. This led to Bill ranting about how poor they'd done the previous seasons, and how he was starting to prefer rooting for the Phillies. They showed her the Liberty Bell, and other historic sites. But in the end, for Alice, the best part was just being with them and seeing their enthusiasm about their home.

It reminded her a bit of Paris, but in the best way. She tried not to think about the way that had been the final place where she'd really enjoyed the company of Bill, Joe, and George together. Instead, she chose to remember it, then at least, as them enjoying her home. 

Of course, home had changed since then. But theirs hadn't. It never had. Philadelphia seemed to bring out tremendous loyalty in its people. She admired that.

Seeing Babe so happy again after watching him depressed and angry in Haguenau felt good too. She'd not spent too much time with him in Austria, but she knew that as with all the boys, Germany had hit them hard. Sometimes it made her feel guilty that she'd broken down when the rest had had to see the same things and keep going.

"And we're here!" Babe said, grinning. "Let's go."

The sun had started to set. Bill said Frannie had known he'd been gone all day, that he'd told her about Alice and the training, but that he didn't talk to her about the specifics of the war. Alice could respect that. The families they came home to didn't understand, and couldn't, not really.

The townhouse was small, like Spina's. Made of reddish-brown brick and with white painted windows, Alice couldn't help but smile. It was perfect. Following Babe out with Bill coming up behind, she just grinned. "Looks good, Wild Bill."

Babe snickered and Bill just rolled his eyes. But he nodded. "Frannie's dad used to own it. When they moved out, we bought it from 'em."

He wrestled with the key at the top of the couple steps to the small porch. Once he'd stuck it in, the knob turned easily, and they were inside. The sound of a baby crying met them.

"Shit, that'd be Eugene," Bill muttered. "Come on in."

"Bill! I need to put him to bed!" The woman had an unmistakable Philadelphian accent, like Bill's, but it was sweeter, less sharp. When she rounded the corner, she grinned. "Alice!"

"Frannie, this is Alice. Alice is this Frannie. And you know Babe," Bill added, smirking.

"Hi, Babe," Frannie said, laughing at the way the young man perked up. "Bill, go put Eugene to bed."

"Can I meet him?" She hadn't meant to interrupt their evening routine, but as Frannie brightened up at the question, she was glad she'd asked. 

Frannie nodded. "Of course!"

As she moved down the hall, Alice followed her. Eugene was lying on the couch, clearly just changed. While she heard Bill muttering something about broads and babies, she just grinned down at Eugene. "Oh, Frannie, he's beautiful."

"Damn right he is," she agreed.

Alice watched in amazement as the dark-haired, brown-eyed boy tried to push himself up into a seated position. Frannie lapsed into Italian, chatting with her son a mile a minute. Finally, she scooped him up and patted him on the back. 

"Would you like to hold him?"

"Oh, no, I don't think so," Alice said. The image of her bloodied hands holding something so pure and precious wouldn't leave her mind. She couldn't hold him. "Thank you though."

Frannie laughed at her. "Of course. If you change your mind tomorrow, let me know. He'll be waking us up bright and early, you can bet on it!" Turning back to her, and to Bill and Babe who apparently had followed them, she pointed to her husband. "I'm going to bed. Make sure Alice feels as welcome as she would if I were down here to keep your ass outta trouble. Got it?"

"Get outta here," he argued.

But she just winked at Alice. Planting a kiss on his lips, she sped past Bill and said a quick goodnight to Babe. Soon they were left alone.

"Wow," Alice said a moment later. "She's fantastic."

Babe broke out laughing at the admiration in her voice. "She's from South Philly. What d'you expect?"

"Fucking right."

They spent an hour chatting quietly in the front room, radio off so as not to disturb Frannie or Eugene. Babe quizzed Alice about what she'd enjoyed about Philadelphia, and she had to admit that Water Ice, the Italian frozen dessert, had been the highlight even in the cold.

"Best thing to come outta the Italians in Philadelphia," Bill declared.

But soon Babe had to leave, letting her know he'd be by in the morning to pick her up to get her car at Spina's. Giving him a big hug, she thanked him for all his help. And then there were just two.

Several minutes had clearly passed in silence, because Bill's words jolted her where she sat. "You all cried out?"

"Don't make me feel worse than I already do, Bill," she muttered. "If we're going to talk about the war, I better get a drink."

Bill snickered but nodded. He got up and moved back to the kitchen. When he came back, he handed her a bottle of beer with a shrug. She took it. "Eh, you're allowed to cry. I saw you go through enough to warrant it a couple a times. Fucking crazy shit."

She let out a small huff and shook her head, looking everywhere but at him. He was right, of course. Finally, she turned back. "It was rough, after you left. And don't let that go to your head!" she added.

Bill didn't laugh though. He just nodded. "The real heroes are the ones over there. Muck and Penkala included," he added. 

Of course he had known exactly what she meant. Infuriating really. But she just nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, and I had pneumonia so I wasn't much help to anyone. Just made everyone more stressed."

"Well, you always made everyone more stressed," he joked. But when he saw her frown, he shook his head. "Oh for fucks sake. You don't actually believe that? Jesus Christ, Sweetheart. You were a little bit of humanity in all that bullshit. And telling tales of your ferocity helped keep the stupid replacements from killin' themselves," he added.

She couldn't help but smile at that. "They were pretty gullible."

"Gullible? Stupid."

"Be nice, Bill," she scolded. 

But it was half-hearted and he knew it. So she just drank her beer and listened to Bill prattle on about the comings and goings in South Philly, about the latest gossip and about work. He went on about how great having Babe around was, even if he swore her to never tell him. His mother's cooking made a few mentions. The simplicity of it all, that's what Alice valued most. While sitting in the living room, Bill missing a leg and her missing a piece of her soul, didn't look at all like what she'd hoped post-war would be, she supposed in some ways, it was even better.