Desire

by Mia Madison

  “Stay busy, Major,’ he snarls. “Dismissed.”

  “Sir,” I say leaving his office a little confused. I’d expected more grilling and a stern lecture at minimum. If not a far flung posting in some out of the way jungle.

  By Thursday, I realize that Frank does not care to discuss Rylie under any circumstances. I think he’s missing her as well. I try to get in his head but he dodges my questions. All I know she’s in Boston, but that’s the extent of my knowledge.

  On Friday, Caden and I have dinner together.

  “Dad,” he says to me all serious, his voice as mature as he can muster, “I thought Rylie was going to take me to the beach again.”

  “I did, too, bud,” I say.

  “But she can’t?”

  “She’s far away. In Boston.”

  “Is that really far?”

  “Yeah, it’s really far.” It’s an eleven or twelve-hour flight at best. I’ve searched.

  “When's she coming back?” He toys with his veggies. I’m not sure if he senses something is wrong or if he’s just avoiding his peas.

  “Eat your veggies,” I say deflecting his question.

  “Yes, eat your greens,” Lisa says barging through the back door right into my kitchen. We rarely, if ever, lock that door here. Maybe I need to start.

  “You don’t knock anymore?” I ask.

  She ignores me and sits down next to Caden. “Come on, Honey,” she says in a singsong voice that made sense when he was three or four. “Eat your peas so I can take you for an ice cream.”

  He obeys, and I think about his last question. Is Rylie coming back? I wish I knew. I stalked her Facebook account for a few days, but then she unfriended me. She missed the interview with Gary’s non-profit and I had to cite a family emergency back east.

  “Dad, can you come have ice cream with us?” Caden asks, innocently or perhaps not. While I’d been daydreaming about Rylie, his mother had been prompting him to include me.

  “No, Buddy,” I say. “I have things to do. You enjoy your time with your mom.”

  “Your dad wants to be alone with his very young little side piece,” she says cruelly.

  “What are you talking about?” I am beginning to feel a rise of heat and anger swell in my chest. How does Lisa know anything about Rylie?

  Lisa says in a harsh voice, “I’m talking about that too-young-for-you woman who you have no business seeing.”

  “What do you know about…”

  “I happened to meet her here,” Lisa lets slip in her smugness. Guilty individuals often can’t resist letting their crime slip out. My mind begins to piece together the puzzle of Rylie’s sudden disappearance.

  “I know you belong to Caden and me,” she says with false sweetness.

  “I’m not discussing this again, especially in front of him,” I bark like a drill sergeant. I’m furious now because I realize that I’ve never had any religious solicitors come to my door like Lisa had claimed the other night.

  A light bulb goes on in my mind. She shafted me again.

  “What did you say to her?” I demand. I force myself to remain calm in front of our son, but I want to explode.

  “I told her the truth,” she says. “That you and I are going to work things out and she needed to get lost.”

  “You vile —” I check myself because I don’t want to berate my son's mother in front of him. He’s already looking back and forth between us in confusion. “Buddy, you go with your mom for your ice cream and we’ll have a story when you get back,” I say calmly.

  “You’re going to see that I’m right,” Lisa says.

  “No. No, I’m not.” I stand and walk away before I say something ugly in front of Caden.

  After they leave, I send Rylie an email.

  My weekend sucks with no response from her and I bury myself in activities with my son even if everything reminds me of the time she was with us.

  When Monday morning rolls around, I still haven’t heard back from her.

  On Tuesday I call her, but she doesn’t answer. I leave a voicemail, “We need to talk, please. You’ve misunderstood some things.” I have no idea if she’s listened.

  Wednesday night I realize my situation is hopeless. Rylie didn’t just run away from Hawaii and her aspirations to work here, she’s run away from me. I have to come to grips with her decision and try to forget about her. I wake up in the middle of the night after I dream about her. I toss and turn, eventually jerking off to the image of her gorgeous sensual body dancing in front of me.

  On Thursday I must look miserable because Blake Graham says, “You look sick, sir. Maybe you should have stayed in bed?”

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “You don’t look fine.” He leaves his comment at that, and we begin arranging files together in silence. After an hour he says, “I think you’re missing something.”

  I try to ignore him by staying busy and concentrating the best I can on work, but he asks, “Did you try to find out what happened?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “I’m not trying to get into your personal life, sir,” he says, returning to military politeness.

  “No, you said something,” I say putting down the file I was working on. “Permission to speak, Lieutenant. I want to hear what you have to say.”

  “It’s obvious, Ethan. Can I speak like a friend?”

  “Carry on.”

  “You miss this Rylie chick. Bad. I think you’re going to actually get sick if you don’t do something. You look like shit, to be honest. And your uniform, your boots, I’m surprised Cole didn’t say something, you look like a slobbing private.”

  Shit. I didn’t realize I’d failed to maintain standards.

  “Excuse me,” I say. I hit the restroom and look in the mirror. Blake’s right. I do look like shit. I’ve forgotten to get a haircut, too. I splash water on my face and ponder my predicament.

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  Leaving the restroom, I make my way to the Lieutenant Colonel’s office and rap lightly on the open door. He looks up and motions for me to enter.

  “Sir,” I say. “I’ve got to apologize. I think I’m a little sick and I know I look like hell.”

  “Take a seat,” he says.

  I sit in silence while he finishes going through a stack of papers. “So, what’s problem? Why didn’t you go to sick-call?”

  “I didn’t realize it was so bad.”

  “I see,” he says.

  “Sir, can I put in for a pass?”

  “A pass?”

  “For a long weekend, sir.”

  “We’re really swamped here, Ethan. What the fuck is really going on?”

  “Can we shut the door, sir?”

  I take a minute and compose my thoughts.

  “Ethan, speak freely,” he says.

  “We’ve been friends for a long time,” I start, “and I hope you feel you can trust me.”

  “Of course, yes. I do trust you. But when it comes to Rylie,” he says stunning me, “she’s my only daughter. I had to send her away.”

  “You knew all along?”

  “I didn’t get into this position based on my looks and charm. Yeah, I figured something was going on.”

  “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “My attitude about her is always to protect her, but I know she’s an adult, smart and capable. She doesn’t believe it, but I do realize that her life is her own.”

  “But you…”

  “Yes, I pushed her hard, but I’ve respected whatever decisions she’s ultimately made.”

  “Are you…what I mean to say…are you against us being together?”

  “That’s irrelevant now,” he states with a cold finality. “She’s gone to be with her mother despite her initial flat out refusal. I’d accepted her decision but it would appear you yourself did something that upset my only girl enough to make her want to take off. You aren’t the only one missing her, soldier.”

  “Excuse me,
Sir but are you telling me we wouldn’t have a problem if that changed?” I ask without hesitation. I’m hanging out on a limb here. Taking a risk with my career and my long friendship with Frank. But missing indicates longing which indicates love. I need her back here and I’m willing to risk everything to get that.

  “I’m a father, just like you,” Frank says softer now. “So I do understand little girls grow up and fall in love. I won’t stand in the way of what she wants, but I don’t think you realize how persuasive my ex-wife can be regarding our daughter. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s made arrangements to set Rylie up with a dozen MIT grads. My former wife hates military men. I suppose I gave her some cause there. It might be easier for you to forget about Rylie and move on with your life.”

  I bolt up out of my chair and salute the commander. When I leave Frank’s office, he probably thinks I’m defeated but he’s got another fucking think coming.

  19

  Rylie

  I wake up after a night filled with dreams of Ethan.

  It’s totally ridiculous that my body unconsciously screams to him despite all my intentions to put that silly mistake behind me.

  Ethan is not part of my new life here, and I need to get my subconscious on board with this fact.

  It’s three in the morning, which means it’s not too late in Hawaii to call Alani. She picks up on the first ring.

  “Hey Sista! How is it stay in Boston?” she says in her cute English. I still haven't become accustomed to the odd accent Boston accent.

  “It’s okay,” I say, not convincingly.

  “You lie.”

  “You’re right. I’m miserable here.”

  “So try get on a plane and come home,” she says as if it was just that simple.

  “I can’t just leave.”

  “Nah, you can. Just go online and buy one ticket. Pau already.”

  'Pau' is Hawaiian for ‘the end’ or ‘done’ and I think of all the things that are finished with now, since I left. My work with turtles, my close relationship with my dad, and the paradise I loved. I also lost Ethan and Caden, but I remind myself that maybe they’re better off working things out with the little boys’ mother. I even miss that freckle-nosed serious little boy and his affectionate manner. None of that was my choice. Ethan made his decision and I will put him out of my mind.

  “How’s your job?” I ask Alani.

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Shit. You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “You aren’t happy,” she states like she’s become a therapist.

  The problem is that she’s right. I’m not happy. I fell in love and with those along came dreams. Silly girly dreams of insta-happy family. Now, here I am, living my life based on my mother’s plans. “I can get happy again,” I protest. “I just need time and things will work out. It’s not so bad here.”

  “I know you're lying to yourself.”

  “You might be right,” I admit, “but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  We chat for another hour, gossiping and girl-talk, and it’s after four in the morning before I realize we've talked for so long that I’ve talked myself to exhaustion again. “I’d better go, Alani. It’s nearly dawn here.”

  At breakfast, I must look like I’ve been on a three-day drunk.

  “Darling,” my mom says, “your eyes are puffy. Are you not sleeping?”

  “I had a rough night.”

  “I’m making you an appointment.”

  “For what? A sleep shrink.”

  “Who said anything about a shrink,” she says, flipping open her phone, “I’m getting us into the club spa.”

  “Noooo,” I groan.

  “Hush, darling,” she says holding up her hand. “Yes, this is Mary Westfield. I need to make an appointment for two,” she speaks in her upper-class Bostonian accent that sounds foreign and just wrong to my ears.

  I’m too tired to resist her force of will.

  Back from an afternoon spent at the spa and a light dinner, I’m desperate to get to bed early. Pulling the covers up to my chin, attempting to get comfortable, the sense that I’m not alone hits me. I look around the dimly lit room and see nothing out of the ordinary. What’s gotten into me? I hug a pillow and snuggle into it, wishing it molded to me the way Ethan does. Did.

  Admit it – you miss him. I can’t shake it.

  I recall our day at the beach with Caden, and how much we enjoyed being together while his son played along the shore. I felt natural being with his son. Holding his little hand as he rode on his dad’s stunning broad shoulders. I miss that little guy, too.

  Without my permission, my mind drifts away to the day Ethan and I hiked into the jungle.

  Ethan slides up behind me as I lie naked. As he pulls my back hard against his chest, his hand runs down my arm, up my side, and lands on my breast. He toys with a nipple, tugging and rolling in turns.

  In bed, my hard points stiffen and ache. I absentmindedly squeeze one as I continue reliving my past.

  I recall with extreme vividness his tongue exploring my pussy. Wet now, my heart rate increases from taking this fantasy path laid out in front of me. Ethan’s rock hard shaft slides into my swollen folds as I moan softly in both my imagination and my reality. My body is in Boston, but my mind is lodged in Hawaii.

  I am alone, but he’s with me, too. Strangely, I feel him as if he's lying next to me. I can see his face, his blue eyes, and his smile.

  The vacant emptiness of reminding myself where I am expands. I don’t know what to fill it with, so I continue with my self-torture.

  I think back to our night at the conference when he complimented me. I felt so proud. His kisses later lured me further into his universe but I’m still lying alone in expensive sheets in a strange room, in a land that feels totally foreign.

  My body aches and I relive several more dreams featuring Ethan, before desire takes over and my fingers push into my folds to relieve my tension. Barely satiated, I eventually fall asleep, my body clammy and sticking to the sheets.

  At breakfast my mom informs me we’re hosting a dinner Saturday night.

  “I’m sooo not in the mood,” I complain.

  “Charles has already lined up all the caterers and staff,” my mother informs me. “He’s been planning this since I told him you were actually on the plane.”

  Charles Westfield is my mother’s husband, older by a decade and disgustingly wealthy. I guess my mom is happy, but sometimes I think she’s like an exotic parrot in a diamond studded cage.

  “We have a large guest list. Meaning quite a few available bachelors will be attending, Darling. The bar will be open for cocktails at six but you must take it easy. I know you’ve been melancholy lately.”

  “I’m just not ready for this,” I protest, knowing it’s falling on deaf ears.

  “You have to get back on the horse,” she says like it’s every day someone breaks your heart. “You’ll see, once you meet a decent man here, you’ll forget all about this Ethan character.”

  I nearly drop my coffee. “What?”

  “Careful, dear. You’ll stain your clothes.”

  “You said Ethan. How do you know his name?”

  “I do maintain a sharing relationship with your father when it comes to our baby girl.”

  “But, but Ethan...” I stammer. “How did Dad know about him?”

  “Darling, you think you can keep things from your father? When you’re living in his house? Dating one of his men? You’re not that naive, are you?”

  “I…don’t, I mean I didn’t think he had that much intel on my life.” Not knowing what else to say, I sip coffee. My heart pushes painfully into my throat as I conjecture on what daddy has said or done to Ethan. I doubt there’s anything I can do that won’t make a bad situation worse, but guilt shadows me. “I didn’t know he found out,” I murmur into my cup.

  “Of course he found out,” Mom replies. “You should have been smarter than to think you could
keep such a bold secret from a man like your father.”

  “Is this why you pushed so hard for me to come here?”

  “I’ve got years of experience with military men, Darling. Trust me, you being far away from the base is the best thing for you.”

  “I wish you’d let me live my own life, Mom. This isn’t exactly fair.”

  “Nothing in life is fair, little baby. A military bad boy played you. He got what he wanted. When he finished with you, he moved on.”

  “That’s not Ethan.” I snap.

  Damn, why am I defending him.

  Because that much I’m sure of. I’m confident he didn’t use me. I just think he decided it was best for Caden to go back and rebuild a family. Even in my rationalization, I have doubts, and my emotions overwhelm me. I put my head on the table and weep with deep sobs of regret.

  My mother puts her arm around me but her attempt at comforting me only makes the situation worse.

  “I’m going back to bed,” I say.

  “Darling, I think—”

  “No arguing,” I say leaving the breakfast nook. “I’ll go to your stupid party, but I don’t have to be happy about it.”

  20

  Ethan

  I work through the night Wednesday, all day Thursday, then again pull an all-nighter. Friday morning I look like a bum and my brain is roadkill but I’m caught up enough to wrangle a half-day.

  I leave notes for my assistant and minutes later, I’m on my way to Honolulu International. I made sure to make arrangements for my little man this time. He’ll be picked up by Marta and if his mother doesn’t flake, he’ll spend the rest of the weekend with her. In either case, he accepted that I had a secret mission over the weekend. Especially when I said I’d be bringing a surprise back for him. Whatever happens, I have to make that part a reality.

  I have only a small carry-on, so security and check-in go smoothly. By early afternoon the acceleration of the aircraft lifts me off the ground to where I need to be.

  I’m breaking more rules than I care to count. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be facing serious repercussions, but I’ve decided to follow my heart. I cannot live the rest of my life thinking I let Rylie get away without a fight.