by Raquel Belle
“Oh, going out?” Mom says, as she tries to carry a box into the kitchen.
“Yeah, Trip and I are going to Nashville. Here, let me help you with that,” I say and take the box from her. “Where do you want it?”
She wipes her brow. “Just set it down on the floor beside the island.”
Her curls are sweaty and some are stuck flat on her forehead. “Where have you been?”
She laughs. “Getting out the good china.”
“Oh,” I say, “a holiday favorite.” I glance outside. “I can help if you want. Trip won’t mind.”
“Oh, go have fun, dear. Your dad can help with some of this.”
I look around. “Where is he by the way? I’ve hardly seen him since I got here.”
“He was out on the back patio having his morning coffee and reading the paper. You know how he is.”
“Okay. I’ll see him later, hopefully. You sure you don’t need my help?” I ask again, as I’m backing away.
“I’m fine. Have fun!”
She’s already standing over the box when I glance back, and I know she’s going to be at it all day.
Trip’s leaning against the truck, his ankles and arms crossed, and he’s looking down the street. I stop walking, taking in his rugged appearance— especially his bulging muscles which are threatening the integrity of his denim jacket. He has on a white tank underneath, tucked inside his jeans. His brown boots finish the look.
His dark hair is messy, like he just ran his hand through it before walking out the door.
I’m sure I’ve seen this image before—in a cologne ad for Perry Ellis or Ralph Lauren.
“Hey,” he says and pushes off the truck when he sees me. “What are you waiting for?”
I clear my throat. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
I walk up to him, and he pulls me to him and kisses me—a surprising, yet sweet greeting.
I’m dizzy when he lets me go, and my eyes flutter open. I feel drunk. “You’ve got to stop doing that.”
“Fine, but you’ve got to stop looking so damned beautiful, or it’s on you,” he says, and walks with me to the passenger side of the truck.
“Deal. Next time, I’ll wear a dress made out of burlap.”
He laughs loudly. “And, my Jazz, you’d look beautiful even in that. Hell, you might even start a fashion trend over here.”
I laugh along with him.
My Jazz. That’s what he used to call me. And still does, apparently. It still feels good.
I breathe deeply and wait for him to get in. “So, where to first?”
He grins and turns the key. “All your favorite spots.”
“You’re kidding!” I exclaim. “Trip, I’m not going to the burger joint, or the aquarium, or the zoo.”
He laughs. “Okay, fine. You choose.”
“How about the Blues bar? We’ve never been able to get in there.”
“Okay, but that’s not a day time thing,” he says.
I pinch my chin. “Oh, right…”
“So, maybe the aquarium after all?” He asks and bites his lower lip.
He looks so damned edible. The butterflies in my stomach are fluttering again. “Fine, but there’s lots to do in Nashville. We’ll figure it out.”
The car continues along Willow Creek Road, and pretty soon, there’s nothing but us, trees, and the road, for forty minutes.
“So…” he says, “why aren’t you seeing anyone?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
He scoffs. “You don’t know? What kind of an answer is that?”
I laugh softly. “I used to date. I’ve had boyfriends. They didn’t work out, so now I’m single and focusing on my career. You know, on something that actually makes sense.”
“Makes sense to me,” he says, and then whistles. “That bad, huh?”
“You could say that.”
“Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, I couldn’t quite settle down with any of the boys overseas,” he says and clicks his tongue.
I start laughing, until I’m clutching my belly. “Trip, what’s wrong with you?”
He laughs, too. “That’s my way of saying I actually had a good reason for not dating.”
“Yeah,” I say. “New York is a very diverse city, but not always the best place to find something meaningful. Everyone’s always in a hurry. It’s like one transaction after another…in so many ways.”
“Which is why I’m in Willow Creek. The simple life appeals a lot to me.”
I sigh. And there it is—the biggest reason why I can’t get caught up in romantic indulgences. It’s a fool’s errand. So, why do I feel disappointed?
“Have you never thought about leaving here?” I say.
He glances over at me. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it, and if I leave, where would I go?”
I laugh, nervously. “Anywhere else.”
“I was thinking about becoming a SEAL, well, Derrick and I, but then…” his voice drifts off, and I look over at him. He has a faraway look in his eyes, as he stares ahead, and I know he’s remembering how Derrick died.
“Trip, we don’t have to talk about this,” I say, calmly.
“No, it’s okay,” he says and shakes the fog from his eyes. “He and I were going to be SEALs, but then, you know…and when I came home and found out how sick Pops was, I had to take over the shop.”
“Hmm,” I grunt and gaze through the window as the first store signs come into view. “We’re here.”
“Yep,” he says. “First stop, let’s get some food.”
“Oh, yes!” I say. My stomach growls, and I clutch it. “I forgot I haven’t eaten yet, and it’s almost ten.”
“Still a foodie?”
“Very much so, except I’ve whittled down my taste to lattes, wines…”
“…Salads, water, peanuts…” he says, much like he did at Nana’s.
I snort. “Don’t mock me.”
“I don’t know about you, but I still go heavy on the gravy. I think you lost your way as a true Southerner. I’m going to have to revive it.”
“Trip?” I say in a warning tone and wag my finger. “What are you thinking?”
“You’ll see.”
And I do. He pulls into an all-you-can-eat Japanese buffet restaurant that serves food all day.
I laugh as he opens the door to the restaurant. “I’m warning you—this is a waste of your money.”
“And I’m warning you,” he says and walks in after me, “you’re going to be a changed woman after this.”
“Doubt it,” I say.
After twenty minutes, I’m scarfing down crab legs, poached eggs, shrimp manicotti, roast duck… I’ve never been so full in my life, and Trip’s leaning back in the chair, with a proud look on his face.
“Don’t say it,” I say to him and slap the napkin onto the table.
He grins and leans forward. “I won’t, but I love it when a woman knows how to eat.”
“Don’t get used to that. I’m going to spend the first couple of weeks in a gym when I get back, working off all of that grease and fat.”
“I can help with that,” he says, suggestively.
I blush. Again. It’s happening too often. “Okay, now that we’re full… What do you want to do?”
“Um,” he mumbles and falls back in his chair again. “Something lightweight until this food wears off. The aquarium is perfect for that.”
I laugh. “Why not? Let’s go watch fish swim.”
The fact that Trip is standing so close to me, his arm constantly brushing against mine, is a recipe for insanity. All parts of me are tingling having him so close.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers in my ear, and I jump in fright and clutch my chest.
“Don’t do that,” I say out loud. “You scared me.”
“How? I’ve been standing here all along.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I say and take his hand.
“Where to? Say, you still lov
e music, right? We could check out the Ole Opry one of these nights.”
“That’d be nice, Trip, and yes, I still love music.”
“It’s a date then,” he says.
We walk through the mall, checking out shops, eating cotton candy and snow cones, and licorice. Literally reliving our high-school years.
We’re sitting on the edge of the fountain inside the mall, pulling on licorice vines, when the idea of him leaving town pops into my head again. “Have you ever considered the FBI? With your skills, you could easily get a job with them.”
“Hmm,” he muses. “Never thought of that.” He sighs and leans back on his palms, bracing his chest forward and giving me another eyeful of his masculine appeal. “Never thought about going anywhere else…until now.” He cocks his head to the side. “Shop’s doing fine, and Pops is gone. Nothing’s keeping me in Willow Creek anymore.”
“Nothing?” I ask.
He moves his hand and covers mine with his. “I might be tempted to leave for the right reason.”
“Yeah? And what reason would that be?” My heart is racing in my chest, and I wait anxiously for his reply.
“I don’t know. Could be anything…nothing specific.”
“Really?” I say. “Nothing specific seems like it’s suddenly making you think about it.”
“Yeah,” he says, and his eyes dip to my lips. “Nothing specific.” He leans forward and catches my lower lip with his teeth. “Maybe someone specific.”
I laugh, but I don’t move as my chest swells. “Maybe?”
“Definitely,” he whispers.
And I move in. I can’t help it. He’s teasing the shit out of me, and I’m not prepared to resist him. I give in to him, cup his face, and thrust my tongue into his mouth.
We kiss, hard and passionately, and my body is engulfed with fiery passion. I’m in a heated fervor, and dizzy as hell.
“Whoa!” he says against my lips. “Not here.”
“Okay,” I say and wipe the corners of my mouth. I notice the smiles and otherwise awkward glances we’re getting from the other mall-goers. “I think we gave them a bit of a show.”
He laughs and then reaches into his pocket. “Just a second. It’s Trisha.”
“Okay,” I say and turn slightly to the side so I’m not facing him anymore.
“Sure,” he says into the phone. “I’m with Jazz. We—” he stops. “Okay. When, now? Sure. Okay, see you in a bit.”
And my heart drops. He’s going to leave.
“Sorry,” he says and stands. “Is it okay if we end this day prematurely?”
I stand too. “Yeah, it’s fine. Is Trisha alright?”
“Yep. She has to work and she needs help with the boys.” His voice is apologetic, but I can’t be selfish. Trisha is already dealing with a lot, and maybe it’s better if we end this date early.
“Let’s go then. I promised Mom I’d help her with some Christmas preparations, anyway.”
He takes my hand, and we walk out of the mall like a couple. It feels good—better than I want to admit, even. It’s been a while since I’ve made out in public, or walked and held hands with a boyfriend. I’d forgotten these little things about myself.
And even though he’s doing something noble, for a second, I wish he would be a little more selfish.
Chapter Nine
Trip
When I pull up outside Trisha’s house, she’s wearing a hole in one of the floorboards of her porch.
“Hey!” I shout to her, as I get out of the truck. “I’ve got them. You can go now.”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t have anyone else to call,” she says, as she hurries forward.
“No need to apologize,” I say. “Now go on before you get fired.”
“Where were you?”
“Nashville,” I say and bend to pick up Kyle, who came running outside as I pulled up. “Come here kiddo! Are you the one over here giving your mama trouble?”
“Nashville,” she says behind me. “Cool. I hope she isn’t mad that I called you.”
“Nah, she’s cool. Had to go help her mother too,” I say, as I toss Kyle into the air. I turn back to her. “Didn’t you say you were late?”
“Yeah,” she says, and she hurries to the car. She’s inside when she pops her head through the window. “I left dinner on the stove in case you’re hungry.”
“Thanks,” I say, and wave goodbye to her.
She honks the horn and pulls off. I turn back to Kyle and lift him up, and by now both twins are here. “So, what are your plans for this evening?” I hold Kyle under my arm like a log. He’s giggling and twisting to get loose.
“I want to play tag,” Conrad screams and jumps down the steps.
“Whoa, little man!” I call out to him. He falls to the ground and rolls around until he manages to stand. He brushes the dirt and grass from his pants and grins up at me.
“I’m fine, Uncle Trip.”
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I say and set Kyle down onto the ground. “No more of these stunts, or we’re going to play sleep time.”
“No!” they scream, unanimously.
“Good. Okay,” I say and tap Kyle on the shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!”
“No, that’s not fair!” he yells and giggles as Conrad and I take off around the house with him chasing us.
Of course, by the time we get around the house, I fall, and I can’t get up, and he manages to tag me. “Oh, come on. I better learn to run faster,” I say, as I clamber to my feet. “Now, you better run fast!”
They yell and scream as they dash around the house, to the back of the yard and down through the trees. “Boys! Where are you going? You can’t play tag in the woods.”
“Can too!” Conrad yells back.
“Oh man,” I groan and chase after them.
We run around for a couple of minutes until I begin to get tired.
“Come on, Uncle Trip,” Kyle says and tugs at my arm, while I’m sitting on a large rock close to the stream that runs through the backyard. “You always get tired.”
“That’s because I’m an old man.”
They giggle.
“You’re not an old man, Uncle Trip,” Kyle says.
Conrad leans in and whispers in my ear. “Mr. Fred is, and Mr.—”
I place my finger on his lips and laugh. “Not one more word, you cheeky little nymph.”
“What’s a nymph?” Kyle asks quizzically, and his brows dip as he waits for the answer.
“They’re like fairies. Some of them live in water, and others live in trees,” I say.
“I want to be a nymph,” Conrad shouts and jumps backwards, his hands in the air, as he tries to do his impersonation of a nymph.
I laugh at his silliness. “How about you both go and be nymphs, and I’ll rest for a little bit, okay?”
“Okay,” they answer together.
“But don’t go too far,” I shout after them.
They’re already skipping away, and they stop by a tree that was split by lightning. The branch is hanging low where the tree broke, and they’re able to climb onto it.
I lean against the tree next to the rock and watch, as they struggle to climb the tree. They squabble while they do, as brothers will, and I smile and wonder what they’ll be like when they’re all grown up—if they’ll follow after their father and join the Army too.
I sigh when the thought crosses my mind. I stare at the twins as they manage to get on top of the branch. Instantly, Derrick’s face pops up in front of me.
“What do we do?”
He’s staring wild-eyed at me, like he thinks I know what the hell I’m doing. We’re in an open field, north is our only way to safety.
“We keep moving,” I say. “Keep your head low.”
We’re on our bellies, crawling through what looks like a savannah. It’s like a suicide mission. We have no cover, even though it’s night. Anyone with eyes can see all ten of us, crawling through the grass.
The loud roar of the engines constantly searching does nothing to assuage our fears. We look around wildly. It’s been night forever. That’s how it feels. We’re on edge, and paranoid. We are not supposed to be here.
Our eyes keep scouring the environs, and we’re desperate to get to the base. At least there we can get some rest. But it’s been so long…so very long.
“Parker, you got any rounds left?”
Parker and I trained together at Fort Jackson. “No, nothing extra.”
“Shit!” He hisses and turns his head forward. “We’re not going to make it.”
“Why you gotta say shit like that?” Derrick hurls back at him.
“I’m a realist,” he says, and even in the dark I can see him foaming at the mouth. He’s scared, and with that kind of talk, he’s going to have the rest of us shitting our pants too.
“Look, let’s just get as far as we can as fast as we can,” I say. “No need to get carried away. Just get through the night.”
Parker grunts and begins to crawl again. “Then I guess you all better crawl faster because—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. A loud explosion deafens our surroundings, and an orange ball expands right in front of us.
My body is flung backwards in the air, and I land several feet away. My skin feels like it’s peeling off, and my ears are ringing. There’s nowhere to hide, and I look around wildly, hearing nothing, seeing nothing but smoke.
“Derrick!” I yell. “Parker!”
I hear nothing but crackling embers and the loud rush of wind. I yell again, and assume a crouching position. I tap my ear and realize it’s bleeding from the impact.
“Derrick!” I call again and search through the smog. I hear the voices of the other soldiers, crying in pain.
I can’t find Derrick. Parker’s crawling towards me, his right leg in pieces. “Where’s Derrick?”
“I don’t know man,” he whimpers. “I need a medic. My leg’s gone.”
“Stay right here, Parker,” I say. “I’ve got to find him.”
I don’t have to look long, though. When I find him, he isn’t moving. I shake him, but his head just rolls around like a bobblehead.
“Derrick!” I yell and raise his body. “Derrick!”