I whirled around to see a very cute guy wearing a baseball cap and a fitted black V-neck T-shirt. His low-riding jeans fit him nicely and he was looking at me over the rim of his beer bottle. His friend was cute too, but not as cute as he was.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “So if I’m blondie, can I call you ‘slim’?”
He laughed. “No, definitely not. Name’s Travis.”
“Hi, Travis. I’m Cara, and this is Miranda.”
He pointed to his buddy. “This is Evan.”
I gave Evan a small wave.
Travis lightly took my elbow and asked if I’d like to dance. I set my empty shot glass on the bar and let him lead me to the dance floor by the hand.
Travis was tall – taller than Riley and I was only about five-foot-five so I had to crane my neck to talk to him. He hunched down a bit as we spoke and I noted that he had very kind eyes, despite his macho exterior. He smelled absolutely delicious and I began to wonder what his chest would feel like under my hands. I hadn’t had sex in months, and I never thought I was the type of girl who would ever say, or even think the words, “I haven’t had sex in months” and actually understand or empathize with what they meant. Riley had been like a drug to me and I was still in an everlasting withdrawal.
I had to get my mind off of sex, so I kept my hands firmly looped around Travis’s neck and dutifully answered the questions he asked. I also asked him questions. He was a college senior at Cal State San Jose, getting his degree in architecture and design. I tried to picture him in a suit and tie and it didn’t quite work, so I put that thought away and just enjoyed being held by someone who was so cute and smelled so heavenly. I peered over my shoulder and saw Miranda dancing with Evan, but those two looked like they were about to kiss.
I suppose she and Jace must have some open thing going on because I’ve met the guy, and trust me, there’s no way he’s keeping it in his pants while he’s out on the road. I had no doubt he had groupies fawning all over him. He was about six-foot-three with a short cropped blonde flattop and flirtatious, aqua-colored eyes and a perpetual tan, and was very outgoing. (And apparently fantastic in bed, which I had to hear all about all of the time). I didn’t express my thoughts as to Jace’s roadie behavior to Miranda, though, as I was sure she would eventually figure it out herself.
Travis led me to a small table where we sat and talked for a little bit. He was very gentlemanly and I was surprised when he asked for my number and didn’t expect me to go home with him. I reluctantly gave it to him, wondering what I was doing. I was so confused as to what I was supposed to be doing. Do I wait for Riley, be the faithful girlfriend with the deployed boyfriend, or do I just live my life and see what happened when he got back? It’s not like he was even coming back to California.
I never really answered my own question. I just never knew, and it wasn’t something I was willing to define with Riley, especially when he was in an already stressful environment. I felt the last thing he needed was for me to get all whiny and start darting questions at him about where we stood when he had bigger things to worry about. Like staying alive and keeping his fellow soldiers alive. Riley was only 24, he had his whole life ahead of him, so I figured over the next six months, we would figure things out and I should live my life, but not shut him out of it.
***
Travis called the following Tuesday after our night at Cowboys. He wanted to take me out and I reluctantly agreed. He took me to dinner at a popular steakhouse chain and it was there I explained to him about Aiden and my divorce, I even told him a little about Riley (only because he asked about my last relationship) but I didn’t expound any further on it. My memories of Riley and our summer together were my memories and I wasn’t ready to share them with anyone.
Travis was a perfect gentleman the whole night. Sweet, polite, paid for dinner, opened my car door. There was even a bit of attraction between us but no major sparks. He dropped me off at home and kissed me lightly on the mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back harder, and he hungrily accepted, running his hands down my sides and around to my ass. I groaned a little. He felt so good and it had been so long…
He slid his hand up my back and ran his fingers through my short blonde hair and then began kissing my jawline, my throat, my collarbone, and I now had my hands all over his chest.
He gasped out, “Unlock your door.”
And I realized we were still standing on my porch. I nodded and fished my keys from my purse and opened it quickly, still panting.
Travis grabbed my hand and sat me on the couch as he shrugged his jacket off. He put both hands on my face as he found my mouth again and crushed his lips against mine. I kissed him back again, and he felt so good. He was so warm and smelled outrageous. We kissed for a while, our hands exploring each other over our clothes, not speaking, just kissing. He was a pretty good kisser. But he was no Riley.
Riley’s face flitted through my mind and I knew I couldn’t sleep with Travis. As much as I wanted to satisfy a physical need that was pooled between my legs and in the pit of my belly, I just knew I couldn’t. My body needed something that my heart wouldn’t let me give up, and I almost started crying.
I broke the kiss and looked at Travis. “I think you should go now,” I whispered.
He adjusted himself with his hand outside his jeans and I briefly looked down to see him strained against the denim confining his need. I felt super bad and looked at him apologetically. He sat looking at me for a minute and then nodded and stood up, grabbing his jacket.
“I’m sorry,” I said, walking him to the door. “It’s our first date and all, and trust me, I really want you. I mean, I really, really want you,” I sighed. “But I just shouldn’t.”
He kissed me on the forehead and nodded. “It’s okay. But I do want to call you again. Is that all right?”
I nodded and felt bad as he walked out and I closed and locked the door behind him. Damn.
As I walked back to my bedroom, two questions floated through my mind: Why couldn’t he have been an asshole? And where is that new package of batteries I had just bought?
CHAPTER 15
Riley’s letters, emails, and texts, and the already rare phone call became more scarce, but they were still just as sweet, and we talked a few times about me flying out to Colorado to see him when he got back. He did not have a set date but he thought it would be in May some time. It was still only February and it seemed so far away.
I had just gotten home from my third date with Travis. He was sweet but I still couldn’t sleep with him. I plopped on my bed and stared at the framed photo of Riley and me I kept on my nightstand. It was us at the wedding last summer. We had both gotten dressed up and my mom had snapped the photo the day of the wedding when we dropped off Aiden, but she hadn’t really asked about him since. I told her he was going overseas and she said she’d pray for him. I hoped she was still praying for him, as I was, every day. For his safe return and those of his platoon.
The 49ers ball cap I had purchased for him sat still in the plastic next to the two framed photos of us. The other photo was one Miranda had snapped of me, Riley, and Aiden at the prison’s company picnic they’d held last summer. We had had a great time, and I remember Riley pushing Aiden on the swings for a long time. It had been sweet and endearing, and that video reel of him pushing him on those swings will be forever burned into my brain.
As I reluctantly agreed to a fourth date with Travis, I began to fret over two things: One, he was going to expect me to sleep with him soon, and two, that I wouldn’t say no. I was now going on almost six months with no sex and it was making me crazy.
After a movie and some ice cream, Travis pulled up to my house and I invited him in. That was the first mistake. The second was allowing him to kiss me, the third was kissing him back, and the last was letting him into my bedroom.
The night did not end as I thought it would. Kissing me on my bed, he looked over to the framed photos of Riley and slowly got off
the bed and glared at me.
Pointing at them, he said, “I thought it was over with that guy.”
I looked at him sheepishly and shrugged. “He’s overseas, what can I say? Our relationship isn’t really defined.”
Travis was quiet for a few long, tortuous seconds. “I can see that, I suppose. But where does your heart lie, Cara?”
The lump in my throat came back and as I swallowed it down, I managed to whisper, “I can’t answer that because I don’t know.”
Travis gently grabbed his baseball cap from my dresser top and walked out my bedroom, out the front door of my house, and out of my life. And I was both sad and relieved.
***
“Oh, my God, did you hear?” Miranda squealed into the phone.
It was late on a Friday afternoon and I was in no mood to work. I leaned forward in interest and propped my head up on my hand. “No, what?”
“The MPs on base arrested like seven military guys!”
I furrowed my brow. “For what?”
“Screwing inmates!” she practically yelled and I craned the phone away from my head at the assault on my ears.
“You’re shitting me. I thought only we got arrested for that. It’s like a slap on the wrist for them, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it normally would be, but I heard they were supplying the inmates with cell phones and drugs.”
I groaned. “You know what, we did a mass shakedown of the Army bus a few weeks ago and found sooo much crap!”
The bus that takes inmates to the other side of the base had come back for the day and we had about ten staff members waiting for it, myself included. There was tons of contraband on the bus. Gum, McDonald’s wrappers, cigarettes, small bottles of alcohol, some full, some empty, and other things that we definitely do not issue them.
We pat searched every inmate and three of them felt like they had things under their clothes so I had to perform strip searches on them. I found the normal contraband, cigarettes, small vials of various make-up and perfume, and some food items. But on one inmate I discovered a very nice green lace Victoria’s Secret bra and panties set.
Yeah, we don’t issue those either.
I suppose my memo about what inmate Anderson had told me, along with an investigation that had already been underway, lead to the bust.
The first thing I thought of was telling Riley about what happened, and I would email him later when I got home tonight and see what his reaction would be.
***
It was now late May and I realized it had almost been a year since Riley and I had met. It was also the month Riley was to come home, but I was fretting because I hadn’t heard too much from him. His communications had been very scarce in the past two months, with just an occasional email and no phone calls. So, in typical Cara fashion, I Googled this, and learned their communications overseas get shut down or very limited as they get ready to leave the sandbox and head home. It also took several days – sometimes weeks even – to get stateside, stopping in many locations around the world until they reached home.
Thank God for the Internet!
I was blasting out the door on my way to work on a Friday morning and my cell rang. It was an unknown number, so I almost didn’t answer it, but did anyway.
“Hello?”
Crackle. “Hi.” Crackle.
“Hello?”
More crackling and static. “It’s Riley.” It was broken up, but I heard it.
“Oh, my God! Riley! Where are you?” I spit out, pausing at the car, frozen with excitement.
More static. “I’m in Israel.” His voice sounded strange, overly excited and not like him. His speech almost sounded slurred but the connection was bad.
I furrowed my brow. “What are you doing in Israel? Are you on your way home?”
“I can’t talk. I love you.”
The line went dead and so did my heart.
“I love you, too,” I whispered into nothingness.
I sighed and unlocked the car, buckled Aiden into his car seat, and went to work, hoping to hear from Riley again. I did shoot him a quick text message telling him I was happy he called, but somehow I knew he wouldn’t get it any time soon since he had clearly been calling from somewhere other than his cell.
***
It was a very painful month before I heard from him again at all. I kept with the Internet searches, cursing myself each time for being so obsessive. “I just want to make sure he’s okay, still alive,” I’d tell myself.
One day at work, my desk phone rang a double ring, indicating an outside call.
“Cara Reid.”
“Hi.”
I sucked in a breath as my heart felt as if it was going to stop. “Riley!”
“I’m back in Colorado.” His voice was robotic. There was no static this time and the connection was clear.
“I’m so glad you’re home! I was so worried. That last phone call was a bit alarming.”
“What last phone call?”
I was confused. “You called me from Israel.”
I heard him blow out a breath. “I did?”
What the hell was going on here? “You don’t remember?”
“You know, things were crazy as I was leaving the Middle East. I didn’t know what day it was, what time of the day it was. I was exhausted.”
This made me sad and I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. “Oh.”
There was a silence on the line so I continued. “When can I see you?”
Another long pause ensued. “I don’t know. I’ve got work stuff here and I have to just decompress. I’m not in a good place right now and not really good to anyone.”
My heart sank a little. “I just want to see you,” I said in an almost whisper.
“God, Cara, I want to see you, too. I just can’t. Can you give me some time?”
I nodded as tears dripped from my face. “Okay. Please let me know, okay? I miss you.”
“I love you, Cara. I’ll call or email soon.”
And with that, he hung up.
I didn’t understand what was going on, so back to Google I went, as if it held all the answers to my emotional problems. Why didn’t he want to see me? Did he find someone else? Maybe he already had a girlfriend back in Colorado this whole time and it was time for him to go back to her? Or a wife? Of course I’d asked him these things and he always told me no, and I had no choice other than to believe him. We were Facebook “friends” and I never saw any indication he was married or anything on there. I refused to believe that someone who could give themselves to another person as much as Riley seemed to have given himself to me had room in their heart for another person. Maybe that made me naïve and stupid, but I don’t think I am. I’d been down cheater’s row with my ex and I wasn’t going there again. A million scenarios played through my mind on a continuous reel until I had to consciously shut it down.
Google revealed mostly articles of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD. My conversations and emails with Riley while overseas had always been about me, Aiden, my job, current events, our relationship, and sometimes sports. He never, ever discussed what was going on over there, and selfishly, I didn’t want to know. I figured he’d talk about it when he was ready, and, remembering the reaction he’d had to the war movie we watched last summer, I was in no hurry to rehash things with him. I could only imagine the war horrors he’d seen over there.
I looked up when I heard a knock at my door, and smiled at Jan, the caseworker I shared a wall with.
“Hi, Jan,” I said, shamefully swiping away a stray tear.
She smiled at me. “Hi, honey.”
“How’s your daughter enjoying married life?” I asked in deflection of the pitiful look she gave me.
“She’s good.” She took a seat in the vacant chair next to my desk. “Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head as a kneejerk reaction. “No.”
“How’s Riley?”
I smiled a little. “Didn’t I just say I di
dn’t want to talk about it?” I tried to joke.
She laid a warm, motherly hand on my arm. “Listen, Cara. Jim was in the Marine Corps. He did two tours in Iraq during Desert Storm in the 90s. It was an awful time for our marriage. My daughter and son were just toddlers and after almost a year alone raising them, I just wanted my husband home to help. I was stressed out and exhausted from caring for them and worrying about Jim, whether he’d come home in one piece, or even at all. You don’t need to tell me why you’re crying because I already know. I saw the way you looked at that boy at the wedding. And I saw the way he looked at you. He loves you. You know that, right?”
More traitorous tears began to plummet from my eyes again and I wiped them away before they could reach my chin. I nodded. “He just got home to Colorado and doesn’t know if he wants to see me. I don’t understand.”
She smiled sadly. “Give him time, honey. Remember this: The desert is a totally different world. He was working twenty-four-seven, his life was constantly in danger, and he was eating strange food with little contact with the outside world. Aside from that, he’d been in a very bland environment the whole time. When they get back, they have to get used to the overstimulation and colors and sounds of our everyday society. Or I should say, they have to get re-acquainted with it. He’s got to decompress. You’re actually fortunate, believe it or not, that you don’t have to witness it. I had to learn the hard way that Jim couldn’t just plunge right back into our everyday life. He had to re-adjust. Riley does, too.”
“Thank you, Jan,” I said with a sniffle.
She stood and indicated for me to stand and wrapped me in a hug. “Anytime, honey. You just call if you need something.”
I nodded and watched her walk out. She was way better than Google.
CHAPTER 16
I heard from Riley almost daily for the first two weeks he was home via emails and texts. They were short, but they were there. After that, calls and emails got less and less frequent, and while I tried not to panic, telling myself I knew this was going to happen from the day he asked me out, it still stung.
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