by S. J. Sylvis
Being here was a nice change of pace, and the little screams drifting from downstairs were a nice distraction until I rolled over and grabbed my phone, trying in vain to check the email that I no longer had.
It had been that way for the last couple of weeks. Me going to check my email, only to realize yet again that I had deleted it in a full-on drunken rage. That’s why I finally decided to stop being an immature twenty-five-year-old and do something about it. I took four days vacation, and flew to California to visit my father and his wife.
The twins were the highlight of the trip.
The lowlight of this trip was the awkwardness between my father and I, and the plastered smile on Carrie’s face. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Things definitely improved from when my father first picked me up from the airport. I was sweaty and wanted nothing to do with a hug, but he came swooping in for one anyway, with a wrinkled smile on his face.
At first, I was stiff and he lingered for far too long, but after a few seconds, I felt myself relax in his huge grasp. I couldn’t be upset with him forever, and I really couldn’t justify being angry with Carrie. I mean, wouldn’t that make me a major hypocrite? I too, had fallen in love with a married man—so, Carrie and I were kind of the on the same playing field.
She was sweet, too. It would have been even harder to hate her after seeing how adoring she was to Alexandria and Danielle. She was attentive, and with as little sleep as she got with two toddlers running around, she was still always in this happy-go-lucky mood. I was sure, after observing her for the past two days and admiring her effort to make me feel comfortable, that she was truly a nice woman. She was the type of person that wouldn’t even use those pre-made address labels that came from places like The Children’s Hospital (to entice you to donate) because she would feel guilty for not donating in the first place. That’s the kind of person she was, and even though I felt a little guilty admitting it, she was good for my father.
My mom knew I was visiting my dad and his new family and she simply brushed it off, lecturing me through the phone that life was too short and that I deserved to have a relationship with my father, even if she and he didn’t exactly see eye to eye.
She was still in Mexico for the time being, visiting José’s family, for the next several months. She begged me to come visit her soon, since they’d be staying there for a while, and I agreed without hesitation. I would do anything other than sit at home and stare at Luke’s empty house, wondering when Ash would show up again. Or better yet, when he would show up.
Ash hadn’t stopped by since she’d told me she was Luke’s wife, and it was more than likely because she had officially blown and was harboring a beautiful little baby. I couldn’t even hate her because I didn’t know much about their marriage or life. I mean, sure, she’d acted passive-aggressive towards me, but maybe she just thought I was trying to take her man…which I totally had. On accident, that is.
After brushing my teeth and throwing on a cardigan, I walked down the light grey, carpeted stairs in my father’s house towards the direction of Alexandria and Danielle’s small giggles. This house was simply beautiful. They lived on the Marine Corps base, but since my father was so high in his rank, he got to choose from the extremely nice houses. I’d only ever been to California as a child when we were based here for a few years, and the only thing I remembered about it was the beautiful, warm sunshine.
When I arrived a few days ago, I took in the front of the house with skepticism. It wasn’t what I had expected. It was a beige, sandy color, like most of the houses in the neighborhood, but the roof was an orange-ish tint and it appeared to be made out of copper metal. Off to the center of the porch, there was a palm tree that swayed in the late afternoon breeze, and then the rest of the house was made out of greying stones. It was a really pretty home much different from the houses in North Carolina in which I’d lived in most of my life.
The breakfast area was my favorite part of the interior. It was a small nook just to the right of the spacious kitchen, with white walls and a beautiful glass table in the center. It was all very simple, and pretty unmaterialistic except for the flat screen TV mounted on the far wall. I would bet my left arm that my father had had that mounted despite Carrie’s protests. She was a reader, not a big TV watcher like my dad and me.
Walking into the kitchen a bit more comfortably than I had the last few days, I pecked both girls on top of their curly red hair. They got that from Carrie. She had the prettiest red hair that I had ever seen, and she had these beautiful emerald eyes—emerald eyes that only reminded me of a certain someone else with green irises, too. She was stunning and the girls looked just like her, except for their tan skin. That they got from my father.
“Good morning!” Carrie said as she jumped up from sitting with the twins, who were eating pancakes slathered in organic syrup.
She quickly walked over to the coffee maker and started to pour me a cup. I wanted to protest and tell her I could do it myself, but over the last few days she had shooed me away so insistently that I was throwing the towel in on that one.
“Good morning,” I smiled, and peered over at my dad, who was watching the news intently. I took a seat in one of the chairs, embracing its coolness on the back of my thighs.
Inhaling the coffee, I felt at peace. I should have done this a long time ago. I shouldn’t have pushed everyone away after Alex. Family matters…especially when you all carry the same burden.
“How’d ya sleep?” my dad asked, still not taking his eyes off the TV.
I glanced at the screen, feeling a deep pressure grow in my stomach, and then back to his face.
“Really good, actually. That bed is comfy.”
“The girls didn’t keep you up, did they?” Carrie asked, taking a seat beside them again.
I shook my head. “No, why?”
She exhaled, “They’re cutting their molars and barely sleeping. I think they like to tag-team me.” She laughed.
I followed her laughter, glancing at the TV again. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. My dad’s gaze was zeroed in on the screen, too, and that didn’t settle very well with me. I’d seen that look before, and it never boded well.
I took in the scene of the male newscaster, perched behind a shiny table, and allowed myself to actually listen to what he was saying.
“The bombings were severe, some casualties, but of course, we aren’t releasing any names until all families have been notified.”
I tried to search the screen for any indication about where the bombings had occurred, but I couldn’t find the name of the country. It didn’t matter, though. My heart started to climb out of my chest because I knew where the bombings were. I just knew.
“What’s going on?” My dad looked at me briefly and I nodded to the TV.
He rubbed the scruff on his face, then took a sip of his coffee, putting his eyes back on the screen. “There was a pretty hefty bombing in Afghanistan last night.”
I couldn’t hear another word. I think I went deaf. I stared a hole in the side of my father’s head. My back went stiff and my hands laid flat on the glass table. When he turned back towards me, I could see his mouth moving, as if he was telling me more, but I couldn’t hear anything he was saying.
Afghanistan.
The bombings were in Afghanistan.
Luke.
My ears started making a whirring, ringing noise and my entire body felt like I had just entered hell. Goosebumps covered my skin. I swallowed and then blinked several times before I felt a soft hand on my forearm.
I looked down and saw Alexandria’s little hand playfully slapping my arm.
Carrie’s voice was soft. “Sweetie, what is it? Are you okay?”
I looked back at my dad and the wrinkles around his eyes reappeared. “What’s wrong, Cammie?”
I stuttered, “Uh—I…Luke.”
His eyebrows rose and he turned his head slightly, trying to make sense of what I was mumbling. I shook my head. “Do you… know the na
mes… of who…?” I croaked, and his face softened.
“I can find out.” My father stood up quickly and walked towards his small office. I glanced at Carrie. Tears were filling her eyes.
She gave me a weak smile, “It’ll be okay, Cammie.”
I nodded curtly and stood up, going in the direction that my father had gone.
Twenty-Four
“Mmhm. Anyone else not accounted for?”
My father had on his “don’t fuck with me” voice. He sat down on the edge of his mahogany desk that was lined with pictures of me, Alex, and the twins, and started to tap his legs up and down.
My stomach felt queasy and my head was throbbing. Stress and anxiety clawed up my back.
What if it was Luke? What if it was Luke and the last thing I’d said to him was, “I met your wife today,” and that was it. What if he died thinking I hated him? It shouldn’t matter what he thought of me or if he knew how I felt about everything because the fact still remained—he had a wife. But I cared about him, and that was something I couldn’t change.
Sure, a relationship between us might not work because I was not down with the whole Sister Wives thing, but I still cared about him and it would still inevitably and irrevocably destroy me if he died over there.
“What is his last name, Cammie?” my father asked, voice still stern.
I breathed, “Wells.”
God. I took another deep breath and ran my hands harshly over my face. I looked up at my dad after he repeated the name. His brows furrowed slightly as he listened intently.
“Let me know if you hear anything else. Thanks, Captain.” Then he hung up the phone and met my gaze. I broke out into a cold sweat.
“No one by the name of Luke or Lucas has been reported. He wasn’t in the raid that got bombed. It was a small group of men that went, four of them.”
I let out a huge breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. I looked up at the bright, white ceiling when tears started to blur my vision. I jumped at the sudden pressure of my dad’s sturdy hand on my shoulder.
“Is this the man I talked to a while back?”
I nodded, closing my eyes and dropping my head.
“And you love him?” he asked, softly.
I choked on a bitter laugh. He released my shoulder and I walked away from him, leaning against the closed door.
“It doesn’t really matter if I do.”
He eyed me warily, pleading for me to spill.
I looked into his big, brown eyes that were uncannily similar to Alex’s. God, I wish he was here. He would know exactly the right thing to say to me. Or he would make me laugh. He would make me feel better.
“It doesn’t matter because I found out something about him that wasn’t exactly a good thing, so we’re not together…” I trailed. “But, I just had to make sure he was okay.”
My father looked around his office, avoiding my eyes. I leaned further against the doorframe, prepared to go upstairs to start packing (or to escape the conversation) but he spoke again, this time in a softer voice. It was vastly different from the tone had just used on the phone.
“Cammie, sometimes things aren’t always what they seem to be.”
Moments passed and I expected him to have a follow-up statement, but he didn’t. I crinkled my forehead and nodded, turning on my heel to open the door and exit his office.
I paused with my back to him when his voice started again, “Give him a chance to redeem himself… I was in a similar situation once.”
And that was all he said before I ran upstairs like a bat straight out of hell.
When I checked my phone after landing at the Charlotte airport, I had two missed calls from JoJo and an unopened text. I quickly whipped it open, annoyed with the jerking movement of the airplane as it stopped, and yelled, “Shit!”
The little girl beside me gasped loudly and turned around to tattle to her mom, who was sitting three rows back. I ignored her and her two pigtails and reread the text three more times before trying to figure out my freaking life.
JoJo: He’s home.
That was it. Two words and I had started sweating like I’d just finished running a marathon. Now what? I figured his deployment would have been longer than four months, but then again, it had just been in support for another unit. He had told me it may be a short one and that he’d let me know when he was coming home (or a roundabout date). I’d deleted my email before he could tell me when he’d be done so, surprise, Cammie! Welcome home, here’s Luke, the guy who lied to you and broke your heart.
I ignored my dad’s voice in the back of my head telling me to give him another chance. I didn’t think he would be saying that if he knew about my little run-in with Luke’s wife…whom I’d known nothing about.
But then again, he and Luke had something in common. My dad did cheat on my mom with Carrie.
I wonder if Carrie knew that my father was still married? Had it mattered to her? Had she felt guilty when she found out the truth?
Because that’s what I’d been carrying around for the last month. A huge, heaping pile of guilt resting so heavily on my shoulders.
* * *
I pulled my car up to JoJo’s apartment and hopped out, leaving my suitcase in the back. I looked a hot mess: a stretched-out t-shirt hung loosely from my body, a jacket with a brown coffee stain on the front was pulled tightly over my shoulders, and then I paired that with some old leggings. My hair was no doubt greasy and so was my face (the number one reason I hated flying). JoJo had seen me a lot worse, though, so I swung open her door, walked inside, and yelled, “JoJo! What the hell do I do now?”
I almost fell backwards when I saw a bare-ass male standing in the kitchen. His butt was facing me and his posture went rigid when he heard my voice. I slapped my hand over my eyes and shrieked, “EW!”
“Jesus, Cammie. Do you knock?” Ryan yelled.
“Why are you naked?” I squealed.
“Well…”
JoJo’s voice was full of laughter. “Go get dressed, Ryan!!”
As soon as he left the room, she lost it—causing a few small laughs to escape my mouth, too.
“Okay, coast is clear.”
I slowly peeled my hand away from my face and raised my eyebrows at JoJo.
“We’re gonna have to break the news to Ryan that his apartment with you is more like his apartment with us. Even when you two are married, I’m still going to come over unannounced… all the time.”
She smiled and pulled her light pink robe a little tighter around her body, “We’re gonna have to set up some type of system.”
I nodded, jumping up onto the counter. “I can’t go home.”
She cocked a hip against the wall, crossing her arms. “You’re going to have to at some point.”
“I know that, and I’ve already come up with a plan.” I steepled my fingers. “I’ll park a few streets away…” JoJo’s brows furrowed, “and then I’ll sneak into my house so he doesn’t know I’m there.”
Silence passed between us and I’m pretty sure she was waiting for me to tell her I was kidding.
But I wasn’t.
I didn’t realize Ryan was standing in the doorway, fully clothed now (thank God), until he chuckled.
“That is not going to work.”
I crossed my arms. “Why not?”
“Cammie, come on. Just face the music. Slap him in the face and then walk away. I’ve been slapped by you before; it stings.” Ryan ran his hand over his cheek as if he could still feel the sting.
I did slap him once when he made JoJo cry, many years ago. No one messes with my best friend, even if they are in a relationship.
I looked around their tiny apartment, shooting down my other plan of moving in with them. That would be awkward. JoJo had informed me on several occasions that she was very…loud in bed, and hearing them have sex would only remind me of how pathetic my love life was.
Even before Luke, my love life was shit.
I’ll just be a crazy cat lad
y. Maybe Ms. Deacon will give me some of her cats to start my collection.
“I have an idea,” JoJo said, looking up from her phone. She pattered over to me and tilted the screen up to my face. My eyes scanned it quickly and I looked back up at her. She smiled convincingly and Ryan rolled his eyes at us. “You can stay here a few nights, then we’ll make you look hot as hell, and we’ll go to the coming home party that…” she looked down at the event on her social media account again, “Ember is throwing for the support team, and you can face him there. You won’t be alone and Ryan will punch him, if need be.”
Ryan interjected, “Hey! I can’t punch him!”
JoJo gave him a pointed stare and he rolled his eyes again. “Fine. I’ll punch him if you want me to, Cammie.”
I thought about it for a second and then nodded, “Okay...but will you guys make a pact to only have sex when I’m at work? I don’t want you to rub salt in my wound.”
They both laughed and looked at each other adoringly. Then Ryan winked at her. They were cute. Why couldn’t I find a love like that?
Instead of this fucked-up marriage debacle that I was in right now…
Twenty-Five
“You know he’s called and texted Ryan, like, five hundred times since he landed back in the States, right?” JoJo said after putting down the curling iron.
My hair was in full-on model mode with my shiny, blonde waves falling gracefully just beneath my shoulders. But it didn’t really matter what I looked like. No matter how beautiful or sexy I looked tonight, it wouldn’t be enough to stop the dread from creeping over my shoulders.
The growing worry about seeing Luke tonight had me contemplating just moving away from New Bern altogether. That way I’d never have to face him again. Let alone be his neighbor!
I spun around in my chair. “And what has Ryan been telling him?”
JoJo smirked. “He told him you weren’t here, obviously. But, I’m really surprised Luke hasn’t come here to bang the door down yet. Where else would you be?”