by jc santo
My eyes go to Parker as I think over him referring to me as Joey. My mom and brothers are the only people who have ever called me by the childhood nickname. Joseph actually is the one who gave it to me shortly after I was born.
Everyone was determined I would be a third boy to complete the Fuentes family. Miguel and Joseph fought like crazy over whether I would be a girl or boy. Joseph was adamant that I was a boy, so when I came out as a Joanna instead of Jonas, he dubbed me with the nickname of Joey.
“What is that look for?” J.C. asks.
“It's weird to hear you call me Joey, that's all.”
“You don't like it?”
“I don't know. I love Darlin’, but Joey is nice to hear from you, too.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and plants a small peck to my forehead.
“You'll always be my Darlin’, but occasionally you can be my Joey, too.” He shoots me a wink.
“So,” Tessa speaks up, breaking up our private moment, “How’s work going to take this?” she nods to our intimate gesture and dread immediately settles in the center of my stomach.
Work could very well be in issue. We work in the same shop at the command, and while both of us are up for transfers soon, our marriage could get us into some hot water if our Chain of Command wants to claim we broke the fraternization policy.
Our only saving grace is that neither of us are Lead Petty Officers over the shop or in any kind of supervisor position over the other. However, we can still both get into trouble over this.
“There’s nothing to worry about with that,” J.C. confidently states.
I give him a bewildered look. “How do you figure that?” My question comes out defensively and much harsher than I anticipated.
Again, he winks and flashes that smirk of his. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
Glancing over at Tessa, I see that she shares my baffled expression. With a shrug of my shoulders, I convince my mind to trust J.C. and allow him to handle the situation.
A little while later, when we climb into J.C.’s truck, I’m not the least bit surprised when he turns the ignition then sits and waits for me to acknowledge him.
Our eyes lock and I see yearning in his. The temperature in the truck immediately increases a few degrees and sexual tension flows freely through the small cab.
“Tell me you want me to go to your apartment.”
“If you want to, yes.”
“That’s not what I said, Darlin’. Do you want me there?”
My head bounces up and down in response. “Of course I want you there.”
Honestly, the thought of not having J.C. with me now could easily be the start of my undoing. He’s like a drug for me, one I’ve relapsed on over the past couple weeks and now know I need every day in order to function.
With one curt nod, he unexpectedly lunges across the center console, pulls me by the back of my neck to meet his eager lips in a heated, steamy kiss. His tongue doesn’t wait for permission to enter my mouth, it simply pushes its way in. One of his hands threads through my hair and holds my head in place as the other clasps onto my chin, tilting my mouth the way he wants. Stupefied by this reaction, I do my best to hold on and embrace this frantic side of my husband. My hands cling to his forearms slightly above the bend of his elbows, grasping his large biceps, as I take, and fully enjoy, his oral assault.
We pull apart, both breathless and turned on more than we already were.
“What the hell was that about?” I ask through a pant.
“I fuckin’ love you. And hearing you say you want me in your apartment tonight just does uncontrollable things to me.” He puts the gear shift in reverse, backs out of the parking spot and hauls ass towards my apartment.
“Well, we’re married now. We’re supposed to live together, aren’t we?”
He gives a smirk but doesn’t respond.
Within what seems like minutes, he’s steered the truck into a parking spot in my complex, tosses it in park and shifts his body to look at me.
“I hope you realize that once I get in there, I’m not leaving.”
I nod.
“I’m serious, Jo. We’re married and I want this to work, all of it. I want everything you’ve got. I want your good days and your bad ones. I want the burnt dinners and long night talks; the cuddling up for movies on the couch and the passionate nights together; the walks with Chachi and gym trips together.” He brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “I want it all, darlin’. I wanna be the shoulder you cry on, your confidante, your best friend and your lover. I. Want. Everything.”
A slight smile appears on my lips. I love when J.C. is passionate about something; his Southern comes out so much stronger in those times and it makes me fall a little bit harder that this confession of his was stated with that accent I love so much.
“I want it all, too.” I lean into him and place a gentle peck to his unsuspecting lips. I let them hover above his, not connecting again even as he tries to. “Now,” I whisper against him, “take me inside. I feel like I need a refresher course on those passionate nights you mentioned.”
He doesn’t hesitate and after hours of love making, we fall asleep holding each other, both with the positive outlook that this is the first of many nights together like this.
J.C.
Over the past three weeks, Jo and I have settled into married life pretty well.
I handled the work issue with no problems. While I was deployed, my reenlistment time came up and I chose to extend my contract before I shipped out, allowing me to stay deployed the full six months. That extension ends next month. And instead of signing another four-year contract, I will be separating from the Navy.
That’s right, I’ll be a certified Navy spouse.
There was no way I would allow Jo to give up her career in the Navy; she has the potential to do great things. I’m an average sailor, I don’t put forth any more effort than what is expected of me and I damn sure don’t volunteer to take on more responsibility than I’m forced to.
Working in Pat’s yard last month, it brought back old dreams for me. In high school I loved working in landscaping, the thought of getting back to doing that sounds perfect to me. Thanks to taking courses over the last four years while serving in the military, I have an accounting and business degree, I know a friend who could use a hand and who would hire me in a heartbeat.
He even said as much when I called to discuss it with him. So, starting next month, I will be spending a lot more time with Marshall as the brains of his business.
Marsh has a business degree but hates the tedious paperwork aspect of his company, while I get a thrill out of it just as much as I love getting my hands dirty in the physical aspect of landscaping.
Jo, and everyone else, was shocked but accepting of my decision to leave the Navy.
With all of our new adjustments happening, I felt that it was a very good idea to follow through with Jo’s request to go visit the Chaplain together, and we’ve been multiple times.
I can see why she thinks so highly of Chaplain Ashby, he’s supportive and offers great advice with anything we bring to him. I didn’t know what to expect with our first visit. Honestly, I had two images in my head of how his office would look; one being a shrink’s office with the leather couch and the other being more like a Catholic confessional session. Both a bit intimidating to a southern man like myself.
However, it wasn’t like either of those mental images I had. We went into an office and sat at a couch with the Chaplain in a chair next to us, drank a cup of coffee and had a conversation. It was more like sitting down to catch up with an old friend than it was anything else, and although I didn’t know the Chaplain beforehand, he gives off an air of comfort when he introduces himself. You immediately know he’s an ‘easy to talk to’ type of person.
And he, along with Miller, are to thank for getting Jo through all of her struggles while I was away with my head up my
ass.
Although he was a bit speculative to our shotgun wedding at first, he didn’t tell us we were out of our minds; he watched and listened to what we had to say and then at the end of the first session he told us his opinion, which was supportive.
I didn’t lie to Jo that night; I had no intention of leaving once she welcomed me into the apartment. My seabags from deployment which were still in my truck, were unloaded the next morning, along with the clothes I had taken to Los Angeles with me. Later that week, Jo and I went to my storage unit and cleared it out. Everything was taken directly to her apartment and put away where it belonged.
That’s one of the plus sides to having lived in the barracks before this. I didn’t have any furniture or big stuff; just some pots and pans, kitchen essentials, a few extra linens and my clothes. Easy enough to add to Jo’s small apartment.
We’ve checked in with Pat via Facetime almost every day since our return home. She’s had good and bad days, but we both can tell that the bad days are becoming more and more frequent, while the good days are becoming more scarce.
I’m thankful Jo has continued her visits with the Chaplain throughout this. I was honest when I said I want to be the shoulder she cries on, but I know that with her mother’s illness, I’m going to need back up.
We didn’t initially tell everyone the details of Pat’s cancer, and no one came out and asked, but neither were necessary. Here and there we’ve discussed my mother in law in front of our friends, but when is the right time to say, ‘Oh yeah, she’s dying’? There’s not one.
Things have been non-stop since I got home from the deployment and unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like they’re going to slow down soon.
I pick up my phone and dial my mom’s number and she picks up on the second ring.
“Hey baby,” her southern drawl comes through the line.
“Hey Mama, I just wanted to make sure you got the email with all the flight info?”
I hear rustling around; she’s probably scurrying around trying to clean the house as she talks to me.
“I sure did. I see that you booked two tickets too, huh? Wanna explain what that’s all about?”
I rub the back of my neck in a fruitless attempt to lessen my anxiety.
Yeah, I haven’t told my parents I’m married yet and that I’m bringing Jo home so they can meet their daughter in law.
“Jo is coming with me.”
Mama has heard about Jo for years now. I’m willing to bet she won’t suspect anything out of the ordinary about this.
“Hmm,” that simple sound tells me that she is suspicious and isn’t going to buy that we’re two friends coming down together.
“Look Mama, I don’t have time to get into all of this right now, I’ve got some plans tonight that I need to get ready for. We’ll be there in a week; I’ve rented a car so you and Dad don’t have to worry about comin’ to pick us up from the airport.”
She lets out a definitive sigh. “Alright hun, but don’t think this conversation is over. We can continue it when you get here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say through a smile.
“Alright baby, go have fun tonight. And behave.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Jared.”
We hang up and I release a sigh I didn’t realize had built up during our conversation. Well, it’s gonna make for an interesting trip back to good ole Brunswick, Georgia.
I don’t have long to contemplate how all of this is going to play out; I wasn’t lying to my mom; we do have plans tonight that I need to get ready for. Everyone is going out to celebrate my upcoming discharge from the Navy, mine and Jo’s marriage, and Lord knows what else.
The biggest excitement for tonight though?
That mysterious guy Marsh’s been hiding? Yeah, we get to meet him tonight.
This is gonna be good.
J.C.
Sitting on the couch, I wait for what seems like an hour while Jo ‘finishes up’ in the bathroom. I’d really like to know what exactly women do in there that takes so damn long.
We're goin’ to a dark, hot, overcrowded bar; what could she need to look good for? I know how hot she is, she could just save the time and effort for a date night or something.
My phone chimes with an incoming text and I immediately pick it up, expecting it to be someone with some kind of plans for this evening and immediately roll my eyes.
Fucking group text.
Bug: What time are we meeting up tonight?
T: 10
Jo: I’m excited!
I roll my eyes at my wife’s text, who’s supposed to be in the bathroom, getting ready.
Me: Jo! Finish gettin’ ready!
Jo: I am suga
Marsh: Suga? Oh yeah, I’m diggin’ that nick name.
Me: Don’t you dare Marsh.
Marsh: What?
Me: Fuck.
I know he’s changing my contact name to Suga right this moment and I mentally prepare myself to continuously hear it tonight.
T: We’re takin’ all the kids to Jeremy’s now, then we’ll come pick you up Marsh.
Marsh: sounds good.
Bug: Is mystery guy meeting us there or riding with y’all?
Marsh: There. I won’t be going home with T and Hunter though. ;)
Hunter: Gross man.
Marsh: Gross? I didn’t even say anything about the crazy man sex we were gonna have!
Reed: Fuckin’ hell, Marsh! Nobody wants to hear about that!
Jo: Hey, I bet it’s hot as hell.
T: Right? I kinda want details.
Marsh: Bahaha, there’s my best friends!
Me: Darlin’ you better not be picturin’ any other man in a sexual way. Or else I’m not doin’ my job as a husband.
Jo: ;) Trust me babe, you’re doin a VERY good job.
Bug: OMG, you two are soo perfect!
T: Damn, I want THOSE details…
Hunter: The fuck you do, Sailor Girl.
Reed: Good God, can we stop the group text now? I’m tryin’ to get a little action before we have to leave the house!
Bug: CHARLIE!
T: Reed!
Hunter: That’s my kid sister!
Reed: And my woman!
T: Omg, alright leaving to drop kids off. Marsh be ready in 30. See y’all in a bit.
T: And Reed, behave. We’re meeting in 45 minutes, save that shit for after a few drinks.
A series of ‘see ya’ and ‘byes’ are exchanged. Once my phone stops chiming, the bathroom door opens and my gorgeous wife steps out. Donned in a sleek, strapless, floral print dress with some kind of strappy heels.
Her long hair is pulled up in curls at the nape of her neck with her long locks somehow tucked into a headband. I have no idea how it works, but she looks gorgeous.
It takes everything in me to keep the kiss she places on my lips at a PG-13 level when all I really want to do is lead her right back to our bedroom and slowly strip the dress off her perfect body.
We break apart and both take a moment to check each other out. Given the appreciation I see in her eyes, she likes my dark washed jeans and pearl-snap, button down shirt. Of course my look is topped off with my old cowboy boots.
“Ready to go, Suga?”
“Oh, ha ha. I hope you know that Marshall is gonna give me all kinda hell over that now.”
She simply laughs, knowing it’s the truth. Marshall still calls Reed ‘Charming’ after telling him he was capable of being Tegan’s Prince Charming. As soon as Reed got his head out of his ass, he stepped up to the plate and became just that, earning the nickname from Marsh. Although he claims to hate it, I think he actually likes the steady reminder that he is good enough for Tegan.
We arrive at the Eagle’s Nest and quickly spot some of our friends at a table. I side hug Reed at the same time that Jo, Tegan and Miller all wrap their arms around each other. We’re quickly told that Hunter, Tes
s, and Marsh haven’t arrived yet. While everyone is excited to have a night out together, I think the underlying excitement for everyone is getting to finally meet this mysterious Preston we’ve all wondered about.
Miller and Jo discuss new things going on at the squadron. I’m in my last week of active duty, but due to the ‘conflict of interest’ with my wife being in the same shop, I’m finishing out my contract in an administrative position at another squadron. It sucks, especially because I work with mostly pregnant sailors or one’s who’ve been injured, so a lot of them have a shitty disposition towards the Navy in general. Even though I’m separating, I don’t have any ill feelings. I’ve enjoyed my time and loved what I was doing but being there and supporting Jo is more important.
The squadron is how all of us met and became such good friends, but now Jo and Miller are the only ones left there. We’ve all met other sailors through the squadron but most of them are few and far friends, as in, we only see them few and far in between times.
“I invited Clark to come out tonight,” Jo says looking at her phone. “I haven’t heard from him so I don’t know if he’ll show or not.”
The name is familiar to me; he was the new sailor who replaced Tess when she ended up pregnant during her deployment. Between his replacing Tess and my spontaneous deployment, I never really got to know the kid too much.
We’ll see if he fits in with all of us if he shows up tonight.
We’re an odd, rowdy bunch; sometimes, well a lot of times actually, we’re considered ‘too much’ for some.
I’m pulled from my thoughts, and their conversations come to a halt, when Tess and Hunter saddle up to the table. Hugs are exchanged but there’s no sign of Marsh.
Of course, my wife is the first to speak up.
“Where’s Marsh? Did him and lover boy disappear for a quickie before he’s introduced to us?”
We all chuckle and giggle, knowing that is something Marshall would do, but our laughter dies down when a sad look passes over Tessa’s face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Let’s just not bring up Preston, okay?” A round of somber nods are exchanged between us.