Mitzi's Marine

by Rogenna Brewer

  “You might want to get over being mad sooner rather than later. She pretty much figured you’d passed the O-course. She reenlisted because she plans to head back to Iraq or Afghanistan or wherever.”

  Why would she do that? For the same reason he’d buy an SUV. And a pair of red boots. The same reason he took his hometown recruiting assignment.

  “Lose something, Calhoun?” the wheel-chair bound coach asked, muscling in on their conversation.

  But he knew where he could find her. “I need those ballet tickets, Estrada.”

  “Why would I give them to you?” Dan pushed open the door of the teachers’ lounge. Bruce followed him into the gym.

  “You want me to take them from you?” Bruce threatened. Tugging the fake beard to his neck, he showed the other man he was serious.

  “Oh, yeah,” Estrada said, accepting the challenge.

  The boys’ basketball team had started to wander in for practice. Dan wheeled his chair to the middle of the court and started tossing out basketballs to the boys.

  Dan threw one to Bruce. “Play for it. And I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

  “You’re in a wheelchair.”

  Dan shrugged. “You only have one leg. I figure that makes us even.”

  The Marine Corps reserves and volunteers, here to hand out toys, and basketball players started to gather to see what the heck was going on in the gym.

  Bruce looked for Henry, who’d been shadowing him all week. “Lend me your wheels.”

  “I got me a date,” he said. “You’re going to make me late.”

  “I’ll give you a ride.”

  Henry stood and a couple of the boys helped him over to the bench.

  Bruce sat in the wheelchair and propped up his left leg, just like Dan, so that he wouldn’t have an advantage over the other man.

  The game was as physical as any game he’d played from a chair. Bruce had experience with wheelchair basketball on his side. But Dan had been coaching from his seat for weeks now.

  The game was first to 21, with Dan in the lead 19-18. The other man wasn’t going to let him win. He had to work for it. Bruce had the reserves, Henry and his brother cheering him on. While Dan had his team behind him cheering just as loudly.

  Bruce scored a three-pointer to put it away, then wheeled alongside Dan. “Tickets,” he demanded.

  “She has them. She’s probably down at the theater now. You’d better hurry—you only have an hour to get downtown.”

  Bruce cursed under his breath. What a waste of time. He returned Henry’s chair and jogged toward the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Henry rolled after him. “What about my date?”

  “Henry, I’m in a hurry.”

  “You’re gonna want to slow down.” The old man handed Bruce the pawn ticket.

  Bruce glanced at Keith. Okay, maybe he’d give it to his brother someday, but not right this minute.

  “There’s a watch and a ring waiting for you.”

  Bruce didn’t just slow down—he stopped. “I could kiss you.”

  MITZI PACED OUTSIDE the historic Ellie Caulkins Opera House for the Colorado Ballet’s The Nutcracker. No sign of Henry anywhere. She was now worried that the stubborn old man’s insistence that he could get here on his own meant he’d gotten lost. Sure, he knew his way around downtown. But had Henry ever even been to a theater?

  Only Lincoln Center in New York City was bigger than Denver’s twelve-acre group of theaters known as the Denver Performing Arts Complex. The buildings varied from exposed-beam contemporary at one end to the beautiful brownstone, in front of which she now stood, completed in time for the 1908 Democratic National Convention.

  Getting colder by the minute, she pulled her coat tighter. She’d worn a black cocktail dress and heels for the occasion.

  She didn’t want to miss this performance and debated entering the theater without him. But since she held both tickets, she decided to wait. The thought of starting a new holiday tradition—seeing The Nutcracker alone—sounded depressing. If Henry blew her off tonight he was going to get an earful.

  She’d had enough of men blowing her off.

  Calhoun hadn’t returned a single call. She’d even resorted to sending him a test message.

  Where are you?

  Not at home. Not at the office.

  She’d looked for that red Ford Escalade everywhere she could think to look. Surely with those eagle, globe and anchor hubcaps his SUV would stand out.

  There was the rumor going around that he’d returned to recruiting duty. She’d have to hear it from him before she’d believe it. And she very much wanted to believe that he’d returned not just because he had orders, but because he wanted to. And dare she hope, for her?

  If that was the case, where was he?

  Sure, she owed him an apology. Enlisting his brother behind his back. When she should have been upfront about it. But the truth was she hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Keith was always going to enlist.

  Mitzi checked her watch and sighed. She couldn’t give him much longer. As snowflakes started to fall, the holiday lights appeared brighter somehow.

  “Look, Dad!” The little girl in front of her pointed. “Santa Claus!”

  Mitzi whirled around to check out this amazing sight and came face-to-face with Calhoun. In a Santa suit.

  Under his arm he carried a double-wide shoe box with a big red bow. Henry tagged along in his wheelchair. He wore an elfish-looking hat she could only hope he hadn’t found in a Dumpster.

  “You’ve been a very naughty girl while I’ve been gone,” Santa said.

  She gasped, prepared to argue. But the twinkle in his eye gave her pause.

  “This is for you.” He presented her with the oversize shoe box.

  Mitzi opened it to find twenty years of memories, some happy, some sad, in a pair of red cowgirl boots. Her size.

  “They’re perfect.” She reminded herself to breathe.

  “I was always going to come back for you, Mitz.”

  She tilted her head to look at him. And saw the truth in his eyes.

  “After Freddie was killed…” He shook his head. “I was a mess. Barely able to hold myself up. I’m a Marine. I’m supposed to be strong enough to carry you when you need me to. It tore me up inside knowing I wasn’t. That’s why I let you leave to come home—okay, made you leave,” he admitted. “So you’d get that love and support you needed from family and friends.”

  He dropped his forehead to hers. “Forgive me?”

  “I wanted to be there for you.” She brushed his snow-white beard. “Sometime, Marine, you’ve got to let me rescue you. It’s not just my job. It’s an adventure. And my calling.”

  “Yeah, your job.” He took a deep breath. “That’s something we’re going to have to talk about, Chief. I can’t believe you reenlisted to go back to SAR.”

  “I wanted to be closer to you.” She’d rather have that piece of him than nothing at all.

  “Well, I didn’t reenlist to spend the next four years apart. So we’re going to have to make some calls come Monday.”

  He took a step back from her and tossed his floppy Santa hat to Henry. Then his beard.

  “What am I, your valet now?” Henry grumbled.

  Underneath the red-and-white fur-lined Santa suit, Calhoun wore his Marine Corps dress blues.

  “Nice uniform, Master Sergeant,” she said, calling attention to his new rank insignia and obvious promotion.

  “You do know, Chief, this means you have to call me Master.”

  “Maybe, Sergeant.”

  Henry handed him his white hat and Calhoun put it on—his eyes never leaving hers. And hers never leaving his. Henry handed him a little black box.

  “Is that—”

  She stopped herself as Calhoun struggled to get down on his one good knee in front of the Ellie Caulkins Opera House. She fought back tears.

  “Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s just a leg. If that’s all it co
st to return to you I’d gladly give my other one.”

  She would have helped him to the ground, but the look he gave her stopped her. Some things never changed. “You can help me up,” he said. “But only after you’ve said yes. Otherwise, I’m staying put.”

  “First I have to listen to all the mush,” Henry complained. “Now you’re proposing to my date?” Apparently the crowd that gathered didn’t feel the same way. They applauded.

  “She’s not your date tonight, old man. She’s mine.”

  “I asked you was you Mitzi’s Marine the first day we met.”

  “Hell, yes, I’m Mitzi’s Marine,” he said, opening the ring box. “If she’ll have me?”

  “That’s my ring,” Mitzi said.

  “Can you see yourself married to a Marine? I’m not promising you it will be easy. With all the hardships and heartaches that come with it. But I am pledging love, honor and commitment for the rest of my life.” Calhoun took a deep breath. “Mitzi, will you marry me?”

  Was there ever any doubt?

  “Semper fi, Marine!”

  EPILOGUE

  May Day

  Four years later…

  BRUCE AND HIS PARTNER were on bike patrol along Englewood’s South Platte River trails near City Center and Cushing Park. With yesterday’s snow just a memory, bikers and bladers were out in full force.

  They’d dismounted to stop a dog walker.

  “Officer Calhoun!” A group of middle school boys came rushing up. “Can we get your trading card?”

  Bruce removed his sunglasses, hanging them on the V of his polo shirt, and kicked the stand in place for his all-terrain patrol bike. The Englewood Police Department had a trading card program for elementary through middle grades, to get kids used to the idea of approaching police officers.

  The cards for him and his partner, Gregg Kello, were two of the more popular ones.

  But Officer Kello was busy ticketing an irate dog owner for noncompliance when she refused to pick up poop.

  “Shouldn’t you boys be in school?” Bruce asked, reaching into his back pocket for the requested cards. He pulled out three and handed one to each of them.

  Today’s uniform consisted of a bike helmet, light blue polo shirt with a printed badge and navy blue shorts. It was the shorts that got him recognized every time.

  “What happened to your leg?” one of the boys asked.

  “Iraq.”

  “A wreck?”

  Remembering a similar conversation, Bruce chuckled. “It’s a country in the Middle East. Don’t they teach you that in school?”

  All three nodded without a clue.

  Across the river a woman screamed. “My camera!”

  A skater whizzed past their position with the woman’s camera, but on the opposite bank. Kello forgot about ticketing the dog walker and mounted his bike. They’d have to haul ass just to get to the next crossover.

  “Stay with my bike,” he said to the boys.

  A quick assessment and Bruce ran toward the new crossover construction. Jumping the orange net barrier, he headed straight for the narrow beam that would put him right behind the kid.

  “Damn it, Calhoun, what am I supposed to tell your wife when they’re dragging downriver for your body?”

  “Tell her it was just another day on the O-course!” he said without slowing down over the water. He leaped onto the opposite bank and kicked it into gear.

  Dodging a collision with a jogger, Bruce could see the skater up ahead. The kid had plenty of pedestrian obstacles to slow him down and Bruce used the crowd parting in the skateboard’s wake to his advantage.

  Breathing hard, he continued his chase.

  The kid’s near collision with a woman and a double-wide baby jogger gave Bruce pause. A camera wasn’t worth an injured civilian. But in going around that stroller the skater’s wheels met dirt. The kid lost momentum and stumbled off his board, quickly kicking it back to the pavement.

  That misstep gave Bruce the opening he needed.

  In a running dive worthy of any college football player, he brought the kid down. Pinning him with his good knee, he held him in an arm bar while he reached for his handcuffs. “You have the right to remain silent…”

  After he cuffed the skater and read him his rights, he strapped the camera over his shoulder and hauled the kid to his feet. Bruce stomped on the end of the board to kick it up so he didn’t have to bend.

  “Bet you didn’t think I knew that trick.”

  “Who knew you could even run?” the skater said. “Who are you, RoboCop?”

  “That’s right,” Kello said, braking to a stop on his patrol bike. “He’s our very own RoboCop. And one hell of a lousy bowler.”

  “Where’ve you been?” Bruce asked as they headed toward the parking lot and their black-and-white. About the time they got the skater settled into the backseat, the three middle school boys showed up, walking Bruce’s patrol bike for him. Followed by the tourist who’d had her camera snatched.

  While Kello took the victim’s statement, Bruce thanked the kids for their help. He took their names and the name of their school so he could acknowledge them in front of all their friends with junior citations.

  Then they loaded their bikes onto the bike rack and headed over to City Center to book the twenty-two-year-old.

  “THEN HE CALLED CALHOUN RoboCop,” Kello said, filling their bowling team in on the details as they waited for the fire department’s team, the Ball Burners, to show up.

  Bruce looked up from tying his bowling shoes. “Enough, already.”

  They’d named their team Strike Force. All military, all cops. All the time. Bruce had settled into civilian life as a reservist. And that suited him just fine.

  Walking in with a cane and a slight limp, Henry sat at the table behind their lane. As he did every Wednesday night to watch them bowl.

  Stepping up to Henry’s level, Bruce signaled the staff to bring a beer for his favorite old goat. There were advantages to owning the place.

  “Have you seen the Chief tonight?” he asked Henry.

  “What am I, her keeper? Thought that was your job?”

  “Better not let her hear you say that.”

  “Hear you say what?” Mitzi asked, slipping her arm through Bruce’s. “Sorry I’m late,” she said to him. “A Labrador fell into a frozen pond at shift change.” She looked to Henry expectantly.

  “Just making sure Calhoun’s taking care of you,” Henry grumbled.

  Mitzi indulged them both with a smile. “Hmm,” she said, remembering something. “You haven’t seen the picture of our babies yet.” She dug the ultrasound out of her back pocket and handed it to Henry.

  “You didn’t go in the water after it?” Bruce frowned at her, putting a protective hand to the slight swell of her belly. “The dog?”

  “It wasn’t that cold, Calhoun,” she teased. “No.” She rubbed his flat belly in return. “You know I’m on restricted duty until after the twins are born.”

  Two babies.

  As if that wasn’t enough to worry him.

  His wife had to be an EMT with Fire Rescue.

  “Hmm,” she said, remembering something. “We got an email from Keith.”

  “Did he pass his MCAT?”

  “We’re going to have a doctor in the family.”

  Turned out Keith was a damn fine Marine. Well, Navy corpsman serving with the Marine Corps. Mitzi had worked her magic and opened up a world of opportunity for him with the Navy. After completing all his college requirements for premed while on active duty he was headed to medical school on Uncle Sam’s dime.

  Granted, he was going to be obligated to the United States Navy for a very long time. Still, med school.

  “Calhoun, you’re up next,” Kate Sloan called from the lanes. He’d been oblivious to the sound of falling pins. Their two teams played in a mixed league, and every now and then, like tonight, they were up against each other.

  “Just like old times.” He leaned down to
kiss his wife before he beat the pants off her at bowling.

  “Something’s wrong with this picture.” Henry handed the ultrasound to Bruce. Bruce stared at it. He’d been there when they took it, and for all Mitzi’s appointments. The doctor said they had two healthy babies. What was the old man seeing that he wasn’t?

  “I know it’s hard to make out because they’re twins—” Mitzi started.

  “Nothing hard about it,” the old man grumbled. “I see two of everything. Calhoun, if I were you I’d insist on a paternity test.”

  “Henry—”

  He cut her off. “They couldn’t possibly be Calhoun’s. They’re both coming out with two legs.”

  Bruce chuckled. “It’s an amputee joke, sweetheart.”

  “I get it!” she said. “You can forget about us asking you to be a godparent, old man.”

  “Good, because I know what that means, and I didn’t want to get stuck with diaper duty anyway.”

  “Fine.” Mitzi dragged Bruce toward their lane and waiting teammates.

  “Fine, yourself,” Henry said.

  “They’re going to love him.” She smiled up at Bruce.

  “You know it.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Not as much as I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Oh, come on, you two,” Kello said. “It’s not like you work different shifts and haven’t seen each other in four days.”

  Which was exactly what it was like. Better together than apart.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0242-9

  MITZI’S MARINE

  Copyright © 2011 by Rogenna Brewer

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.