by Bev Prescott
The door to the therapy room opened, and a throng of people crowded in.
“Hello, Dr. Gant,” Col. Yarr said. He checked Madison’s name tag. “Capt. Brown, thank you for your service. I’d like you to meet Senator James McCaffee.”
The senator held out his hand to shake Madison’s. “Capt. Brown, on behalf of a grateful nation, it’s my pleasure to inform you that you’ve been awarded the Silver Star for putting your life in harm’s way to save an innocent child. You are an American hero, and it’s my pleasure to meet you.”
Although taken aback by the news from the senator, Madison reached for his outstretched hand. Her grip was still weak. She despised having a flimsy handshake. “Thank you. It was my duty.”
“We’ve planned a medal ceremony here in DC for you and other outstanding soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen,” Yarr said. “Several dignitaries, including Senator McCaffee, will be there. I plan to be there myself.” Yarr’s jaw jutted out proudly. “We want to make sure you’ll be able to attend. The major news networks will be covering the ceremony, and we’ve already given them the list of recipients. America deserves to see heroic soldiers like you. With all the cockamamie talk of getting out of Afghanistan, your story will show them the important work we’re doing over there, like saving that innocent Afghani girl.” Col. Yarr eyed Isabella before returning his gaze to Madison. “We’ll have special seating for your parents and husband, Capt. Brown.”
Madison took Isabella’s hand. “My father is dead. I don’t have a husband. And I can’t stand being in the same room with my mother for more than two seconds. So, unless you’re willing to let my partner be there, you can count me out.”
The colonel’s upper lip twitched. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment, Captain, but let me remind you about conduct unbecoming an officer.” He took a quick glance at McCaffee. “The ceremony is in three weeks. You’re expected to be there. I hope you will not bring dishonor on yourself and on the Army by having this woman sitting where your family should be.”
“You’re entitled to your opinions, Colonel, but with all due respect, if you think I’m going to that ceremony to listen to a bunch of hollow accolades while Isabella’s locked away in a closet, you’re out of your mind. As for conduct unbecoming an officer, I might suggest you take a good look in the mirror. Your opinions notwithstanding, the old way of dealing with gays in the military doesn’t exist anymore. You need to keep up with the times.”
Yarr’s face was beet red. “Capt. Brown, you’re still a member of the Armed Forces. Your language borders on insubordination. I think you owe Senator McCaffee and me an apology.”
Dr. Gant stepped in between the colonel and Madison. “Sir, this is my patient. She’s been under incredible emotional and physical strain, and your presence is upsetting her. In the interest of her health, I think it would be best if you left now.”
Flustered, Yarr escorted McCaffee from the room.
“Thanks, Dr. Gant. I was just about to lose control,” Madison said. “Nothing good could have come from that.”
“I know, which is why I asked them to leave. Congratulations on your Silver Star, Captain.” Dr. Gant offered a snappy salute.
“Thanks, but I think the Army will have to mail it to me. I’m not going to their stupid ceremony.”
“But you’ve earned the recognition, Madison,” Isabella said. “You should go.”
“Given the way those two double-dealing bastards feel about us?” Madison looked into Isabella’s eyes. “Never.”
“Isabella might be right,” Dr. Gant said.
“You’ve been sniffing nitrous oxide, Doctor,” Madison said with a chuckle.
“No, hear me out. What better way to beat them at their own game?” Dr. Gant gestured back and forth between Madison and Isabella. “The two of you on stage at that ceremony—living proof that love comes in lots of flavors and that heroes do, too. The media already know who the honorees are supposed to be. Yarr and McCaffee can’t un-invite you.”
“She’s right, Madison,” Isabella said earnestly. “It’s your chance to have all that you’ve been through make a difference for gays and lesbians all over the country.”
“I’ll think about it,” Madison said in a reluctant tone. “For now, though, you two need to help me get out of this chair again.”
Chapter 29
Isabella helped Madison don her dress uniform. “Are you nervous?” Isabella asked. “I caught some early coverage on TV. There are already a lot of people in the audience, and television cameras are everywhere.”
“A little,” Madison admitted. “I still think the whole thing is hypocrisy. I can’t believe I let you and Dr. Gant talk me into this.”
“Yarr and McCaffee were right about one thing. You’re a hero, and America hasn’t had enough of those lately.” She kissed Madison’s earlobe. “Besides, the more people who hear your story and see that the love between you and me is as real as any other love, the quicker we can hope this country stops discriminating against us.” Isabella used a soft cloth to polish the buttons on the epaulets of Madison’s jacket. “You’re so beautiful. I never could resist you in this uniform.”
Madison stared at herself in the mirror. It felt good to wear the uniform one last time. Except for the bagginess of her right pant leg, her prosthesis was barely noticeable. The thin scar on her jaw was nearly invisible under the makeup Isabella had applied. The last thing Madison wanted at the ceremony was to have people pity her. She summoned her military bearing. “You ready to go, my love?”
“Not just yet,” Isabella said. “I want to have you to myself for another minute or two before everyone in America falls in love with Capt. Madison Brown.” She put her arms around Madison’s waist.
Madison pulled her close. “Thank you for helping me through all of this. It’s meant the world to me. Come to think of it, I do have one last thing to ask you before we go.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you marry me?”
Isabella took her arms from around Madison’s waist and placed one hand on either side of Madison’s face. She smiled her biggest smile. “Yes. There’s nothing in this world I’d rather do. What took you so long to ask me?”
Madison smiled back. “I wanted to know that we’d be okay—well, that I’d be okay. I’m not there yet. But I will be, and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. I love you with all my heart.”
Isabella kissed Madison deeply. When the kiss ended, she said, “I fell in love with you the day we met. When you go out there today in front of all those people, they’ll feel like you belong to them—that you’re their soldier. What they need to know is that you’re my soldier, too, and I’ll love you always.” She took Madison’s arm. “Let’s go show them that.”
Author Bev Prescott Photo Credit: Joel S. Jaffe
About the Author
Bev Prescott grew up in the Midwest. Shortly after high school, she enlisted in the U.S. Air Force. She considers it one of the best decisions she ever made because it exposed her to a world of possibilities and experiences that, otherwise, a blue-collar kid from Indiana could only dream of. The only decision she considers even wiser was marrying her partner of 20 years.
Bev is an environmental attorney. She and K.C. and their clever calico cat, Lilliput, share a home in New England. Bev writes stories about everyday lesbian heroines who make a difference.
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