Deleted Scene: Shoes

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Posey picked at the grass and squinted into the sunlight, wondering about the blue of the sky. It looked a brighter blue than any she'd ever seen, as though someone had gotten up especially early to paint it that way just for her, knowing what today was, that it was important to her. The clouds were slow in their progression across it, as though regretful that they had to cover that blue for even a second. Posey smiled softly as she watched them, feeling like she could breathe for the first time in a while.

"What're you lookin' at?" Gene mumbled from beside her, sitting cross-legged in the grass and watching as his fingers twisted and untwisted a selection of unlucky strands. When Posey glanced over at him he looked up at her, squinting through the light to watch for her answer.

"The sky," Posey replied with a shrug, and looked back up into it. "It's a really pretty blue." She smiled to herself and closed her eyes against the warmth of the sun. "Un beau bleu," she murmured under her breath, her mind wandering to the bright blue walls of her old French classroom at school. That seemed a million years ago, now. A different lifetime. Had she ever been so young?

"Ça me rappelle la Hollande," Gene said, tilting his head as he considered the horizon. It reminds me of Holland.

"Ah bon?" Really?

He nodded.

Posey shrugged. "I don't see it."

A gentle breeze swept across the tiny park a short walk away from the Guarneres' family home, where a wedding reception was currently taking place without the bride in attendance, and rustled the leaves and branches of a nearby collection of poplars. Posey listened to the trickling water of a little pond a little ways away and readjusted the skirt of her wedding dress. If either of her bridesmaids found her sitting in the grass she knew she'd be in big trouble, but for now she was perfectly content to remember that not everything about today had to be so perfect, not like everyone was trying to make it; the ceremony had been beautiful and she was married to a man she couldn't love any more if she tried and now she was sat in the quiet of a park with one of the best friends she'd ever had, who'd done just about everything for her that a person could do. This was her idea of perfect, no matter what anyone else said. Not even grass stains on a snow white dress could ruin that.

"Y'know," Gene began, turning to face her in the grass, also heedless of what anyone might say about him sitting in the grass in his suit, "the others are gonna come lookin' for you soon. 'Specially Guarnere."

Posey laughed quietly. "Still sticking to the last names, Gene? When you talk about me do you still call me 'Wells'?"

Gene rolled his eyes but there was a slight grin playing at his lips. "Don't avoid the question, Wells."

"You do still call me Wells!"

"Posey!"

She sighed. "Yeah, I know they are. But I'm worried about it. Not about Bill, of course, but the others. I just want to live in a little bubble right now where everyone's happy. It's such a nice day, isn't it?"

"Perfect day for a weddin'," Gene said, relenting, and Posey smiled.

"Perfect day for a wedding," she agreed. "For once in my life I feel like everything has gone according to plan. We couldn't have timed it better."

A small silence fell upon them and Posey thought, really thought, about today, the past few years, her life. She'd been avoiding the rest of the men from Easy since coming out of the wedding ceremony - and, really, for much longer than that - but Gene hadn't let her get away so easily. Regardless, she hadn't been scared to talk to him; he already knew everything, had known everything for a while, and he understood. Even separated by so many miles as they had been since the war, their letters had made sure they were closer than ever.

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