Searching for Tomorrow (Tomorrows)
Page 17
Nana and Papa had found us the cutest little cottage on Folly Beach to stay in for our honeymoon. It was close enough to Charleston that we could visit the historical sites and restaurants, but secluded enough that we could enjoy our time together without interruption.
We spent quiet mornings growing closer, and sharing our hopes and dreams for the future. We talked about my setting up our home during his upcoming training. While we were honeymooning, Dad and Liam were converting the basement of the summer retreat into an apartment for Nana and Papa to stay in when they visited us in Highlands. They had essentially given us the house as a wedding present because, no matter where the Army took Tripp, they always wanted him to have a permanent place to call home. Overwhelmed by their love and generosity, I had only been able to cry when they told us about this at the reception, and explained that we were the only family they had left.
We lazed away most afternoons relaxing on the beach and playing in the surf, and our shell collection grew with every walk we took at sunset. Other times, we headed into the city and took in the various historical sites, shopped at the Historic Charleston City Market that was once a slave market, or toured the grounds of former plantations.
The old saying ‘Time flies when you’re having fun’ couldn’t have been more true, and before it seemed I’d barely blinked twice, the morning of our last full day dawned with the skies weeping. It was almost as if Mother Nature was toying with my happiness. By this time, I knew better than to try to escape to the bathroom first thing, knowing full well that Tripp would quite effectively prevent my leaving.
With visions of our humble abode dancing in our heads, we set out in the pouring rain, heading to the market and other shops around downtown Charleston. Our excitement was so strong that no amount of cloudbursts could bring us down. When we crossed over the massive bridge into the heart of Charleston, the sun broke through the darkened skies and cast a beautiful rainbow over the Charleston Harbor, bringing with it rays of hope for the days to come.
Tripp maneuvered the truck through the midday traffic, looking to find a parking space close to our destination. When that plan proved unsuccessful, he headed over toward Battery Park. Sure enough, there were only a few people crazy enough to park that far away from everything in the rain. Tripp turned to help me out of the truck, and instead of placing my feet on the ground, he lifted me high in the air. Bringing me close to his body, he started singing in his off-key voice and twirled me around the parking lot to the beautiful lyrics of our song, “Amazed” by Lonestar. As the heavy mist sank into our clothes, my husband looked deep into my eyes as the words flowed between us, pouring out every emotion the two of us shared. When he came to the end of the melody, he gathered me close, his kiss warding off the chills from the damp air surrounding us.
We stood, lost in our own world, hearts beating in sync until light applause sounded from behind me. Startled from the intimacy we’d carved out of the void, my face heated and blushed bright red as I turned, looking for our audience. Beside an aging Ford sedan stood a little old man and woman, the beaming smiles splitting their faces and hiding in the wrinkled layers of aging skin. After the gentleman helped his lady into the car, and moved around to his door, he said, “Love her like that always, and you’ll never lose your beautiful bride.” With a wink, he got in the car.
As they drove away, I twisted back to Tripp, and it only took a second before our surprise turned to laughter. With our amusement in check, Tripp locked the truck, placed his arm over my shoulder, and tucking me close to his side, we walked toward the heart of Charleston.
After spending several hours looking at all the unusual items offered at the market, our clothes were finally dry, the sun was warmly shining, and our stomachs were letting us know they were empty. After a quick look at a tourist map, we headed back down Market Street to look for a place to eat. When I saw the sign for Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, I tugged on Tripp’s arm and dragged him towards it. We played the part of true tourists and had someone take our picture under the big sign. Anyone who’d ever seen the movie Forrest Gump and heard the famous saying ‘Run, Forrest, Run’ would appreciate where the name of the restaurant came from.
As we devoured several pounds of shrimp and crab legs, Tripp mentioned several times that he had a surprise planned. I couldn’t help but notice that he kept looking at his watch as if we were on some kind of schedule. As soon as he’d paid our bill, we all but ran out of the restaurant. Whatever the surprise was, Tripp’s excitement was contagious.
After a few minutes of fast paced walking, I stopped Tripp and reminded him that he was making me run on a full stomach. Instead of that slowing him down, he turned his back, bent at the knees, and said, “Hop on.” My silly man then proceeded to carry me through the busy downtown streets on his back, stopping only when we reached our destination. In front of us was a big, red barn.
“Uhm, Tripp, why did you bring me to see a barn? Am I missing something here?”
“Give it a sec, babe. You’ll see.” And boy did I. The huge double doors opened, and out came two gorgeous white Arabians pulling a beautiful white carriage behind them. On the driver’s bench was a gentleman decked out in evening finery. The driver halted the horses, and then jumped off his seat, gallantly opening the landau door for us to step in. Waiting inside was a bottle of sparkling cider, two champagne flutes, and a small giftwrapped box.
Tripp leaned back in the seat, and when I went to sit beside him, he pulled me onto his lap. As the carriage began to move, I relaxed against him, nestled safely in his arms, and enjoyed the sounds and sights of the beautiful old city, and the steady beat of his heart. When the carriage stopped, we were back at Battery Park. The driver jumped out and spread a blanket on the grass under the live oaks, while Tripp slipped the box in his pocket.
As I stepped down, he swept me off my feet and carried me to the blanket, gently laying me down on my side. As he settled beside me, he handed me the gift, and motioned for me to unwrap it. My man of many flowery words was being awful quiet about this gift. As I tore the paper from it, he drew me to him for a kiss. Distracted from my purpose, I sank into him and pushed the kiss even further. Drawing back, he shook his head and laughed, and once again gestured for me to continue.
When I took the top off the box, a silver heart-shaped locket on a delicate filigree chain lay cushioned inside. As I went to open the locket, Tripp’s hands stilled my movements. He gently turned it over so that I could see the words inscribed on the back. I have loved you with an everlasting love. He said the words he wanted without even opening his mouth. I looked at the quote of one of my favorite verses from Jeremiah, thought of his deep abiding love for me, and knew that our tomorrows would bring us much joy and happiness.
“Tripp, did you see that pack of white socks that I bought for you? I can’t find them anywhere.” I stood in the bedroom door, yelling down the hall. We’d been home from Charleston for almost two weeks, and I was trying not to panic, but he needed those socks for Basic. The list of things he could bring with him was few and far between, but I couldn’t stand the thought of him not having the essentials.
“Babe, it’s socks.” He sat on the living room floor, going through a few of the boxes that we’d moved from my parents’ house. He held up a kitchen gadget, and with a confused look asked, “What the heck is this? And this?” He started pilfering around in the box, pulled several different items out, and closely inspected them.
As I walked towards him, I couldn’t hold back my chuckle. He looked so cute sitting there with his legs crossed, wearing a baffled look. It looked like I had finally found his Kryptonite… kitchen supplies. “This is a cherry pitter, and this takes corn off the cob. Now, that one, I don’t have the foggiest idea. I’ll have to ask Mom.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay with your parents while I’m gone? I’d really feel better if I knew you were there, especially with Liam leaving for college in a few weeks.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me do
wn onto his lap.
This topic was the only thing we had argued about since we’d gotten married. During OSUT (One Station Unit Training), Tripp would be at Fort Benning in Georgia for at least sixteen weeks. We still weren’t sure if I would be allowed to come see him any during that time, and even though my parents were only minutes away, he worried about me staying all by myself for the four months he would be gone. After enlisting, he had decided that he wanted to attempt acceptance into the Ranger Indoctrination Program (RIP) in Fort Benning. The plus side of that was that he could possibly be permanently stationed no more than six hours from Highlands, making travel to see family easier. The downside, his training could take him all over for a while.
“I guess I just don’t understand why you’re so adamant that I move back home. No, not home. Back in with my parents. This is our home now.” Leaning back against him, I dropped my head to his shoulder and sighed. “Besides, we just got here. I really wanna make this house a home for us, and I can’t do that if I’m somewhere else. If I get lonely or scared, I promise you that I’ll go back.”
“Okay, I’ll let it go for now, but only because I’ve got better things to do.” He lifted my chin so that I was looking up, pressed a soft kiss to my lips, and whispered, “I’m going to miss you so much, and I just don’t want to spend the next four months worrying about you. I’d much rather spend it remembering things like this.”
“Things like what, baby?” I leaned up, meeting him halfway. What started as soft and sweet quickly changed to heated passion.
Standing to his feet without breaking the kiss, Tripp carried me down the hall to the bedroom. As he closed the door behind us, he whispered, “Things like this.”
When Tripp left for Basic Training, I somehow managed to keep from completely falling apart. I wouldn’t dare lie and say that I didn’t cry, because my eyes were raw for days. Because we had made the most of those four weeks together, I had some amazing memories to reflect on while he was gone. I spent a lot of time in our house painting the kitchen and bedrooms, and Daddy taught me how to lay tile in the bathrooms. The best part was the renovations we did to the master bedroom. Dad and Liam managed to take a tiny bedroom and convert it into a small master bath, and a huge walk-in closet.
I spent a lot of time in that closet, neatly folding Tripp’s jeans, and hanging his shirts. When I was in there, it was almost as if he was with me. His clothes carried his clean smell that reminded me of the forest after a rain shower, and if I closed my eyes, I could imagine he was right in front of me. I took to wearing his t-shirts so that I could carry his scent with me everywhere.
Phone calls were rare, so we resorted to writing letters to each other. I’d never been much of a writer, but every day, without fail, I made the trip to the post office to drop off a note or postcard. Once a week, Mom and I baked goodies and treats, and carefully packaged them so the cookies wouldn’t crumble. We made sure to make enough for Tripp to share, and when he told us that some of the guys never got mail, we started personalizing some of the packages. I learned in one letter that his Drill Sergeant fell in love with Momma’s homemade butter brickle, so we made sure to include that each week.
What I looked forward to the most were the letters from Tripp. He didn’t write as often as I did, but he had a lot more going on. When he did have the time to write, I would get pages filled with his rushed scrawl, and I would read each missive over and over. Daddy built me a little wooden chest to keep the letters in, and as I filled that box, it became my most valued treasure.
Tripp wrote about different parts of his training, and complained about how the hot sun made the outdoor drills even more difficult. I learned the names of the men that he spent all his time with, and even the names of some of the wives and girlfriends. When it was time for him to graduate, I had almost mastered the alphabet soup part, and no longer had to ask every time what SFC (Sergeant First Class), PX (Post Exchange), or SFQC (Special Forces Qualification Course) meant. Every word of every letter brought me one-step closer to being in his arms.
A few days before graduation, Tripp found out that he’d been accepted into Army Airborne School (ABN). This meant that we would only have a few days together before those classes began. After that three-week program, he hoped to qualify for the Ranger Indoctrination Program. This phase could take up to a year to complete. The best part, though, was that all of these training programs were at Fort Benning in Georgia. Because we knew he would be stationed at one location for a while, when I came for graduation, I wouldn’t have to leave. I had found a small apartment to sub-lease in Columbus, the city that surrounds the post, so that Tripp and I could spend what little free time he had together. The pieces of our puzzle were slowly being put back into place, and I was excited to finally be reunited with my other half.
Graduation morning dawned bright and beautiful, and the crispness to the air reminded me that Thanksgiving and Christmas were just around the corner. The whole Broun family, along with Nana and Papa, came down a few days early to help me get settled in the apartment, and they would all be leaving after the ceremonies so that Tripp and I could have some alone time. Not surprising, but still confusing, Mrs. Tidwell failed to even acknowledge Tripp’s leaving, much less his graduation. I was ashamed to admit it, but I felt relieved that she’d failed, once again, to show up in support of Tripp.
What seemed to be a sea of soldiers marched crisply along the field, their moves so perfectly synchronized that it became difficult to tell where one person began and the other ended. This was visual proof of the discipline, and long, arduous training that each one had undergone. My eyes searched frantically over the swell of bodies, seeking out my soldier, my Private, and when I finally spotted him, nothing could force me to look elsewhere. I drank in the sight of him, and trembled with the excitement that I would soon be in his arms once again. The ceremony passed like a blur, and before my brain could catch up with my heart, I was rushing across the field, straight to my haven. When his arms wrapped around me, and his lips pressed to mine, time stopped and everything faded to the background. THIS feels like home.
When the others reached us on the field, Liam joked about needing a crowbar to pry us apart. After breaking the kiss, Tripp turned to greet our family with his arm firmly clenched around my waist. Ever my attentive love, he would stop midsentence to stroke my face, drop kisses on my lips, or pull me into his arms for a quick embrace, and then continue speaking as if uninterrupted. His hands never stopped caressing, as if they needed to reacquaint themselves. Oh, how I’d missed his touch, his smell, his warmth. He was mine exclusively for a few more days, but this time, distance wouldn’t separate us.
Dad’s suggestion that we all go out to eat produced an audible groan from Tripp. Dad just chuckled, slapped him on the back, and promised that everyone would leave us alone after we ate. He gently reminded us that there were others outside our little bubble that loved Tripp and missed him, and we would have our time soon. When he put it that way, it should have made it easier, but I pouted and told him that I was greedy and wanted my man all to myself. This brought laughter, and while they understood what I meant, it still brought us no reprieve.
“Babe, you can share me for another hour,” whispered the voice I heard so many times in my dreams. “After that, I’ll show you who the greedy one is. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish here, and I’ve got plans for you.”
Have mercy, I melted on the spot, but Tripp’s silky words did the trick. “Let’s go,” I said, just a little too quickly as a slow blush spread over my cheeks. As laughter broke out around us, I beamed a bright smile, and started pulling Tripp towards the car. The others, amused by my eagerness, simply followed us through the crowd.
Tripp refused to leave my side for even one second. On the short ride to the restaurant, he cradled me on his lap, his hands constantly moving, caressing my face, rubbing my back, or running through my hair. His eyes gazed into mine, and love shimmered brightly on the surface, but barely res
trained passion smoldered beneath. I knew that look, understood that look, craved that look. Soon my love. Soon.
When we arrived at the restaurant, we once again faced a sea of camouflage. This buffet-style café catered to the local military, and was one of the few places that had enough space in the dining area to seat a crowd this size. Everywhere I looked, I saw a soldier being hugged or kissed. Some were meeting their infants for the first time. A lot of the tears being shed were happy tears, but those who’d experienced loss while they were away were surrounded by a grief that was profound. Basic training, while hard on the family, was especially difficult for the soldiers who were isolated, while life back home carried on without them.
People stopped by our table, either to wish Tripp good luck in his training, or to introduce themselves to our family and to welcome me to Fort Benning. It would be impossible to remember all the names and faces, but I was able to meet a couple of wives that were also living here.
Private Randy Underwood introduced me to his wife Lori. Her beautiful dark red hair hung in loose curls down her back, her deep blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and her bright smile welcomed me. Her warm personality and quick laugh drew me in, but what made me think that she and I would be friends was the easy way she accepted me with a hug. Like me, she had just moved here this past week when she’d found out her husband had been accepted into ABN. Having come without family, she had already spent time exploring the town, and had met up with some of the wives for coffee. When Lori tried to drag me away to meet some of the others, Tripp very politely told her that he wasn’t letting me leave his side for at least three days. As I blushed, Lori just laughed and said she’d be right back.
When I turned back to Tripp, he laid a finger on my lips. “Babe, I told you that I wasn’t letting you go until I have to. I’ve missed you too much over these last four months to let you walk away for a minute. These next three days will be gone in a blink.”