by Ally James
Sara felt something tugging on her shirt, and she glanced over to see Kaylee staring up at her. “I’ll clean it up, Sarie, don’t cry.” She realized she was still standing where the little girl had left her, probably looking as upset as she felt. But the sinking feeling in her gut had nothing to do with their sticky surroundings. She already worried each time that she’d never hear from Gabe again, but this time she was almost certain of it. Unless he wants your 900 number.
“Aunt Sara’s tummy isn’t feeling too well, honey,” she murmured as she patted Kaylee’s back gently. “How about using your strong muscles to help me and we’ll be done in no time.” And she was right—that particular mess was taken care of and forgotten moments later. Unfortunately, the one she’d made with her wayward finger would probably haunt her for far longer. Scouring the Internet for a little camo eye-candy? What the hell, Sara?
Chapter Four
It was after nine in the evening, but Gabe was in no hurry to go back to his room. Why bother? His office was far less claustrophobic, and the Wi-Fi was definitely better. Some nights he’d stay there and watch a movie or television show until after the crowds using the dorm showers had diminished. Right now, they’d be herded in the tight space like cattle, and that was just a little too much closeness with his troops. He tried to ignore the small tingle he felt as he propped his feet on his desk and casually opened his e-mail folder. He’d intentionally avoided checking it for the last few hours, trying to pretend he wasn’t as anxious as a teenage boy with his first crush. It’s deployment boredom—everyone has it. Even as he made excuses, he couldn’t mistake the jump of his pulse as he saw her name in his unread messages. He pondered waiting a while longer to open it, but that was carrying it a bit too far. After all, if a tree falls in a forest and no one sees it, did it happen? Really, man? Even his subconscious was shaking its head at that rationale. A few keyboard taps later and he was anxiously scanning her letter.
“Ookkkaayy,” he muttered to himself. Her choice of words got more interesting every time. He had to admit, his eyes had locked on “kink” right away. He knew she was joking around. Although there were some big military bases in North Carolina, he couldn’t see her trying to pick up men outside Fort Bragg. She didn’t seem the type. What she was to him was a breath of fresh air. She was hilarious, quirky, and damned entertaining. He liked that she didn’t appear to filter her replies to him. Hell, for all I know, this is the heavily edited version. He laughed aloud at that thought. Come to think of it, he smiled or laughed every single time he heard from her. Bet she can’t say the same about your zero personality responses. She’s definitely getting the short end of the stick. He was beyond curious about her. Now, more than ever, he’d love to know what she looked like. Not to judge her appearance, but simply to put a face with the words and sense of humor that he enjoyed so much. He could send her a picture of himself and possibly prompt her into sending him one in return, but that seemed kind of like a pickup attempt. Dear Sara: I like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain, how about you? She’d probably enjoy that line. Although corny, it was less robotic than his usual prose. He flexed his fingers, ready to send back another masterpiece. Or in his case a disaster-piece. He knew he’d come across as cooler if he waited until the morning before responding, but that would delay getting another e-mail from her. And dammit, he couldn’t bring himself to go to bed without making certain that was a possibility. Pathetic, Gabe, really sad.
Sara:
I found my dog at a rest area.
That’s what you’re leading with, Randall? She mentions kink and camo eye-candy, and you lead with how you met Trouble. He was certain Sara wanted to know about how this dog decided Gabe would be his owner and he hadn’t really had a say in it. Still, she’d asked, so he answered. As he wrote, he pondered when the last time was that he simply chatted with someone. A drink at a bar stateside really didn’t count, did it? Once Gabe had tapped out his six or so lines, and a few eye rolls thrown in for good measure, he hit Send and got off-line.
Shit. He’d tried to seem more human this time, but he wasn’t sure how successful he’d been. With his family, he could just ask questions about relatives, but with a stranger, it was much harder. There was no common ground to discuss or shared acquaintances. She was a civilian, so that automatically excluded her from a big chunk of his usual conversations. Plus, there wasn’t much he could elaborate on concerning his current mission. Most of it was classified, which could be a hard point to get across at times.
No need to sit around obsessing over his lack of writing skills. His message might not be great, but it was definitely an improvement—or at least he hoped so. Couldn’t get much worse, buddy.
* * *
• • •
Sara awoke when something kicked her in the side. “Ouch, what th—?” A moment later she had her answer as she reached out to flip on the bedside lamp and turned to see Kaylee sleeping sideways next to her. “Kaylee Marie,” she grumbled as she moved the little girl’s feet away from her. She was surprised she hadn’t noticed her before now. Probably because you stayed up late checking your e-mail constantly. “It was only a few times,” Sara said under her breath. Then felt insane for arguing with herself. It wasn’t as if her inner Sara didn’t know the score, so lying was kind of useless. A loud snore filled the room, and she smiled. Hard to believe such a tiny thing could make so much noise.
There was over an hour before they had to be up, so she debated going back to sleep. Or you could surf the Internet. Just to kill some time. More denial, but habits were hard to break. Unable to resist the urge, she grabbed her iPad off the nightstand and saw the mail notification on the lock screen. “It’s probably not even from him,” she whispered, and got a snort from Kaylee in response. “Hey, don’t give me that attitude, kid; one day this’ll be you. All tied into knots waiting to hear from some boy.” Another snort sounded, almost as if she were following along with the conversation perfectly. With damp palms and the now familiar hum of anticipation, Sara clicked a few times and there was Gabe’s name, right under a spam message saying she’d won ten million dollars. “And my horoscope said nothing about good fortune.” She deleted it, and moved on to the one she really wanted.
Sara:
I found my dog at a rest area. I left my information on the billboard there, but no one ever contacted me. He ran up to my truck that day and promptly pissed on one of my tires. I told him he was going to be nothing but Trouble, and it stuck. Your kink cannot be staking out military bases, otherwise you’d have been disillusioned about the so-called miracle of camouflage long ago. And I’ve never run from anything in my life, although I should have a few times. I’m not a man who does idle chat well, sorry.
Gabe
Sara grinned, feeling kind of melty inside at his story of how he’d found his dog. Even though his e-mail was brief once again, she still thought it showed more of his personality. Why does he never ask me questions? The hardest part of communicating with a stranger was keeping the conversation ball in the air. And Gabe didn’t make that easy. She hated to rattle on about herself or silly stuff all the time, but he didn’t leave her much choice. If he’d ask about her, it would give her an idea of what he might be curious about and she could expound on it. Otherwise, she’d blurt out whatever came to mind and that could be dangerous. He must like it. He’s still responding. She hoped the radio station had received a lot of letters, so that other deployed military personnel had someone to talk to as well.
Chloe had said to be herself. If her gorgeous cousin thought she was engaging, then maybe Gabe felt the same way. Be fun, Sara. He doesn’t have to know whether that part of you exists beyond the computer. This time, she didn’t even try to talk herself into postponing her reply. It would only lengthen her wait in return. So she settled back against her headboard and began typing.
Gabe:
I loved the story of Trouble, it made me smile. Bet you’ve had to answer the
question of his name more than once. You found me out, I have never been on a covert op at a military base. But I’ve checked out my fair share at the neighborhood Walmart. You can rest easy, though, I’ve never tailed any of them home, so you’re safe—for now. Believe it or not, I’m usually a person of few words. Some would say I’m an introvert, except with my niece. She simply won’t allow anything other than full participation when I’m playing Barbie or Minions with her. If you’re impressed by my witty conversation, you’d be spellbound by my voice-over talent. I do a different variation for every stuffed animal the kid has. We get some funny looks out in public when I’m channeling Daddy Pig from Peppa Pig.
What are you doing right now? I’m still in bed. My niece woke me up with a foot to the head. It was a rude awakening, to say the least, but it allowed me to read and respond to your message, so it might be considered a good thing, right? After all, I know you eagerly await my replies as much as I do yours. That last part isn’t a joke in case you’re wondering. I really do look forward to hearing from you each time.
Have a great day, Gabe :)
Sara
After she sent the message, she debated getting up and doing something productive, but she’d likely wake Kaylee up in the process and it didn’t seem worth it. So she snuggled back down into the soft cocoon of her covers and used the remaining time to daydream about a man in Iraq who was occupying more and more of her thoughts. And she wondered—or rather hoped—whether it might be possible that he was experiencing the same thing.
Chapter Five
Gabe was yawning when he jumped the short distance from the Blackhawk helicopter to the ground. He’d spent most of the day at another base meeting with some bigwigs who’d flown in for a brief morale visit. Normally his lieutenant colonel would be along as well, but he’d flown back to the States a few days ago for a couple of weeks. The whole dog and pony show was something he’d never enjoyed. He preferred leaving that to others, but as with most any job, there were politics involved to some degree. And even if nothing ever came of it, he felt strongly that everyone in Washington needed to see the conditions that the troops were forced to deal with at some dangerous locations. No better place for that than Iraq. He’d barely been able to keep a straight face when they took a few bites of the tasteless food. He wondered how they’d feel after eating basically the same menu every week for months. Most deployed soldiers shed any extra pounds pretty damn fast. He was almost certain they weren’t interested in sleeping on a narrow cot in a tent with a dozen other soldiers while hoping the shit air-conditioning kept the temperature inside bearable. Then there were the ever-popular trailers that were made into bathrooms. You quickly lost whatever modesty you might have after a few weeks of doing your business in such close quarters.
He knew it could be a slow process to make improvements to bases in a foreign country. There was likely more red tape involved than even he knew. And the most urgent needs had to be addressed first. But he never passed up an opportunity to point out how even small things, like decent Wi-Fi and hot water, were big morale boosters to the soldiers who spent so much time away from home.
After his demanding day, he wanted nothing more than a shower and bed. He didn’t give a shit if the chlorine was so strong in the water it stung his eyes—as long as it was hot tonight, he’d be happy. Lukewarm water was usually about as much as they could hope for, but you learned to deal with it. Plus, with summer temperatures reaching well over 100 degrees, it didn’t matter much half the year.
As tired and grimy as he was, though, he found himself walking to his office instead of to the dorms. He didn’t bother to tell himself it was for business. No, it was her—Sara. He could attempt to check his e-mail from his room, but the Wi-Fi there was shit and he was too tired to retrace his steps if it didn’t connect tonight. He stopped to briefly exchange a few words with the evening shift before finally closing the door behind him. He dropped heavily into his ever-squeaking desk chair and signed onto his computer. Please be there. Rationally he knew that eventually he wouldn’t have a reply waiting. She had a life outside of being his pen pal. But he’d become addicted to the respite her cheerful words gave him.
Gabe released the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding when he saw her latest message. He was happier than anyone with a pound of sand in their shoes should be, but if nothing else, life here taught you to embrace the little things that came your way. And she brought those moments to him every time he heard from her. He found himself smiling at her words. When he reached the last paragraph, he read through it twice.
What are you doing right now? I’m still in bed. My niece woke me up with a foot to the head. It was a rude awakening, to say the least, but it allowed me to read and respond to your message, so it might be considered a good thing, right? After all, I know you eagerly await my replies as much as I do yours. That last part isn’t a joke in case you’re wondering. I really do look forward to hearing from you each time.
Have a great day, Gabe :)
Sara
He winced in sympathy over her being awoken with a foot to her head. But what really stood out was her admission of looking forward to hearing from him. Was she simply being nice? He should probably consider it a generic pleasantry, but he didn’t really think that was the case here. She genuinely appeared to enjoy their correspondence as much as he did. Which, in turn, made him feel kind of special. She’s probably saying the same thing to ten other soldiers. He froze as that unwelcome thought flittered through his head. He didn’t even know this woman. They could pass on the street and he’d be none the wiser. He was being ridiculous. He should hope that she was bringing the same kind of magic to others as well. Did his fellow soldiers deserve it less than him? Asshole award, right here. And with that, he dropped back into his chair and hit the Reply button.
Sara:
Nothing wrong with being an introvert. You already know by now that I don’t use ten words when two will do. I could blame it on the military, but it’s just me. Everyone has their part to play in the game of life. If we were all the same, where would that leave us? I like the image you present of doing the voices with your niece. And every kid is probably embarrassed by adults at some point. It’s those times they’ll remember when they’re older, and not the serious stuff.
Right now, I’m in my office. I’m dirty and tired from traveling today. Looking forward to bed and a few hours of sleep to recharge. I like your e-mails too.
Talk soon,
Gabe
As he read over his response once before sending it, Gabe gave himself a mental pat on the back. I’m definitely getting the hang of this. Not that it was great by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn’t the worst he’d sent either. He’d even written two paragraphs. He’d have to check back to be certain, but he thought that was a first.
Just then a knock on his door jarred him back to the present. One look at Jason’s stark expression told Gabe two things: Something was very wrong, and there would be no sleep for him that night.
* * *
• • •
Sara was sitting at her mother’s kitchen table sipping a much-needed cup of coffee as she went through the bank statement for last month. She’d been up since before 4 a.m. thanks to her mother accidentally setting off her burglar alarm and calling in a panic. With Chris out of town, it left her to make the early morning drive across town to deal with something her mom could have easily handled. Naturally, Nicole hadn’t been thrilled to discover she would have to take over getting her daughter up and to school, but after Sara had sweetly given her the choice of coming here or staying in bed another few hours, she’d opted for Kaylee detail. Poor thing, I hope she can do the weather on eight hours’ sleep. She laughed softly, thinking Chloe would have appreciated her sarcasm.
As Sara wrote out the few checks needed for the monthly bills, she once again vowed to have a talk with her mother. Most of the bills were on autopay, so there was v
ery little to deal with. Plus, she needed to understand her finances. It shouldn’t be necessary for her to call her son or daughter every time she wanted to make a purchase. Sara had tried to explain how much more privacy she would have if she simply handled this on her own. She was an adult, and it was her money. She didn’t need permission to use it. Yet every time Sara had broached the subject, she was met with a dozen excuses as to why she couldn’t do it. Maybe she should discuss it with Chris first. If they presented a unified front, it might be easier. Plus, it was past time he stopped treating their mother like a child. Sara would never get anywhere without his support. Why couldn’t he see that this would benefit him too?
She loved her brother, but he tended to bury his head in the sand to avoid confrontation of any type with the women in his family. He let Nicole have her way, even though she knew at times he didn’t agree with her decisions. And he did the same with their mother. It was easier to him than risking tears or anger. Sara was the only one he didn’t seem to mind pissing off. That’s because you always let it go, and he knows it. As she was processing that unpleasant thought, her mother wandered into the kitchen dressed neatly in blue jeans and a sweater. She knew from the bank statements that she had an appointment with her hair stylist every six weeks like clockwork. Which was obviously money well spent because her short bob was neat and sassy, and Sara couldn’t detect a hint of gray among the dark strands. Even though she was proud to have such an attractive mother, it made her pat her own sloppy ponytail self-consciously. She’d also thrown on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt when she’d been abruptly woken earlier, a fact that her mother’s sharp glance didn’t miss. You’d think a woman who needed help as much as her mother did would be a little less critical of the daughter supplying it.