Romantic Times

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Romantic Times Page 4

by Christina Skye


  When he stopped, he swam to her, flinging water right in her face. She reciprocated, laughing. They played in the water a short while then she told him, “I’m going to go relax.”

  “I need to do a few more laps.”

  “Better you than me. I’m exhausted.”

  “Not too exhausted, I hope.”

  Sarah slapped at his shoulder, swam over to the ladder to get out, and dried off. He kept swimming, a son of Triton. So amazing to watch. And when he lifted himself out of the pool, water glistened on his chest and muscles, and he stood out like a Roman god. Sarah’s insides fired on all eight cylinders as he approached, toweling his hair.

  “You’d better stop looking at me like that,” he said.

  “Like what?” she challenged.

  “That,” he whispered, bending down to kiss her. Water droplets plopped on her thighs. “I think something tall and cold is in order, Mrs. McDonald.”

  “Indeed.”

  A woman with red hair sitting in the lounge next to her pulled down her sunglasses. “Honey. Without being so bold. What are you doing down here when you have a hunk like that? Shouldn’t you be upstairs?”

  Pleased and not put out, Sarah smiled. “We just got married.”

  “All the more reason,” the woman answered. “I hope you don’t mind if I stare. I love Gil. But he never, ever, looked like that.”

  A youngish man with curly brown hair and horned-rimmed glasses came up to them carrying a couple of towels. “Looked like what, dear?”

  “Nothing,” she murmured. She turned to Sarah. “Lenore… Radovitch. This is my husband Gil.”

  Sarah held out her hand. “Sarah. Sarah McDonald. The gentleman with the drinks coming toward us is my husband, Michael.”

  “Hi,” he said, handing her a drink. “Call me Mac.” He shook hands with both of them. “Can I get you something from the bar?”

  “That’s not what I’d call you,” Lenore murmured. Sara caught the comment, but luckily both men were headed back to the bar to get Gil and Lenore a drink.

  “All those muscles.” Lenore sighed.

  Sarah preened rather than being jealous. “Air Rescue. Helicopter pilot.”

  “Gil was a sergeant in the Army. Supplies. Now he’s an accountant. I’ll take it. Especially with the way things seem to be heating up in Southeast Asia.”

  A part of Sarah wished she was so lucky. For that was exactly where Mac was headed.

  “When does he leave?” Lenore asked.

  Sarah was surprised by Lenore’s astuteness. “We have to be back at base by 17:00 tomorrow.”

  “How long?”

  “A year.”

  “You poor dear,” Lenore remarked, patting her hand.

  Sarah drew in a deep breath. “Yes and no. I’m going to finish my degree.”

  “What are you studying?”

  “Biology. I’m going to be a nurse.”

  “Ladies?” Lenore and Sarah looked up. “Gil and I were just talking,” Mac said. “How about we have dinner together tonight?”

  Sara tilted her head at her husband. He wasn’t one to share. But a little company would help take her mind off their impending departure.

  The afternoon passed far too quickly as Sarah found Lenore and Gil to be as entertaining as any comics on the strip. Her sides ached from laughing.

  “I hope you folks don’t mind but we need to get going,” Mac said.

  Sarah looked up at Mac, wanting to stay. She rose anyway, hugged Lenore and Gil, the men shook hands and they left.

  “What was that all about?” she asked as they made their way to the elevators.

  “I need to go to the pharmacy. For—”

  “Oh,” Sara blushed. “I’ll come with you. I need some cream after all that sun.”

  They dressed and walked along the strip. They went around the corner onto Spring Mountain Road and stepped into the pharmacy. Mac bought what they needed while Sarah spied a photo booth. “Please?”

  “Aren’t you being a bit corny?” he protested.

  She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. He relented and they took pictures with her sitting on his lap. Most of them were kisses but a couple were portraits. On the way back to the hotel, Sarah tore the last two off. In one they were facing the camera, in the other they were kissing. “Keep these with you.”

  His gaze melted and tears filled his eyes, finally understanding her purpose. “Always.”

  They were almost late to dinner, as their lovemaking took on an even greater urgency than before. Time had become their enemy now. But Sarah was determined not to be sad until they said their last farewells.

  They reached the lobby before Lenore and Gil emerged from the elevator. She and Lenore shared knowing looks when they did. Lenore and Gil had passed the rest of their afternoon the same way.

  All of a sudden there was a shout, and two men on the other side of the lobby began fighting. They yelled at the top of their lungs at one another. One was burly, the other slight. But it was the slight one who pushed first. The other pushed back and Sarah nearly fell as the slighter man toppled into her.

  “Say ‘excuse me’,” Mac demanded.

  Sarah laid a hand on his arm, but this was not the loving sweet Mac she knew. This was the First Lieutenant he’d trained to be.

  “You nearly knocked my wife off her feet. Say ‘excuse me’,” Mac growled.

  Both men stared then laughed. “In your dreams, kid.”

  “Apologize.”

  “Never,” the burly man sneered.

  For whatever reason, Sarah would never understand, the heavyset man with the attitude charged Mac. One minute he was upright, his fist trying to connect to Mac’s jaw, and the next he was face down on the floor, his arm twisted up to his neck and Mac’s knee in the center of his back. Then security guards were surrounding them. “Let him go,” one ordered.

  “Hey,” Gil protested, as they grabbed Mac to escort him out of the lobby with the other two. “He didn’t start anything.”

  The security guards didn’t seem to care. They took all three men into custody and began heading toward the door next to the front desk, the one marked “Employees Only.” Sarah followed, not sure which bothered her more, the elite soldier with the hairpin trigger of a temper, or the realization that they’d probably spend their last night together in jail.

  *

  Thank God for Lenore and Gil. Gil followed them into the manager’s office. He whipped out a card, flashed it at the manager, put it back in the breast pocket of his jacket and said, “You might want to reconsider.”

  They all stared.

  “Gilbert Radovitch, Esquire. I’m acting on behalf of my client, Lieutenant McDonald here. He’s a member of the Air Rescue Service. And he just did his job to the fullest extent.”

  “Excuse me?” the manager said.

  “He just saved you from a tremendous lawsuit. If anyone had gotten hurt by this… this gentleman.” Gil gave the man a pointed look. “Well, I’m sure that would have been a problem, now wouldn’t it?”

  “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” the “gentleman” retorted, apparently soused to the gills.

  “I object to that kind of language in front of these ladies.” Gil’s tone matched that of a lawyer taking command of the situation.

  Obviously the manager did too. “Get him out of here,” he told his assistant. “Put him in your office until I sort this out.”

  Gil explained the situation, ending with, “As you can see, my client saved you a great deal of trouble and embarrassment. The man is obviously drunk and belligerent. More than ready to cause additional trouble.”

  The manager nodded and sighed. “I’m sure my client’s willing to let it go as long as you are,” Gil added.

  The man didn’t look happy. “Very well.”

  “And for his time and trouble?” Gil asked with the lift of his brow. “After all, the Lieutenant is on his honeymoon.”

  Now the manager really looked u
nhappy. Sarah bit her lip to keep from laughing. The man grimaced as he said, “Of course.”

  Gil made as if he were thinking, then looked down at his watch. Sarah stared, ready to explode with mirth. Gil lifted his gaze and said, “Dinner on the house will be fine, seeing as how we missed our reservations nearly an hour ago.”

  “I’ll call the restaurant and fix things for you,” the man’s assistant was quick to reply, earning him a fierce glare from his boss.

  “No hard feelings,” Mac added. “But I’d keep riff-raff like that out of my hotel if I were you.”

  Sarah watched everyone shake hands, trying hard to keep silent. She couldn’t believe Gil was such an actor. The assistant manager personally escorted them all to the restaurant and waited until they were seated.

  “Martinis all the way around,” Gil said to the waiter, when the assistant manager finally left.

  Lenore reached over and kissed her husband’s cheek. “I’m impressed, darling. Maybe we should do it in the afternoon more often.”

  “Lenore!” Gil erupted, turning beet red.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, sweetie. These kids are on their honeymoon. Relax.”

  Sarah looked at her husband and they both erupted in laughter. “I had no idea you were such an actor,” she told Gil as she sobered.

  “I didn’t either,” Lenore chimed in. “Interesting.”

  Their drinks arrived. “To teaching idiots some manners,” Mac said.

  “To acting lessons,” Gil said.

  “To free dinners,” Sarah added.

  “To sex in the afternoon,” Lenore continued, which earned her an elbow to the ribs. “Ow!” And they all laughed again.

  Time literally flew by. Sarah explained she was studying at the University of Nevada in Reno, which was near Stead Air Force Base, and Lenore told her she and Gil lived in Reno, a happy coincidence. She and Lenore exchanged telephone numbers then they said good-night. Sarah’s eyes filled as she watched Lenore hug Mac and tell him to be careful. Maybe he’d listen to her.

  Mac made achingly beautiful love to her, prolonging every moment as if he could stave off the inevitable. Neither of them could. Lying together on their last night, Sarah begged one promise out of him.

  “I’ve been thinking, Mac.”

  He leaned on his elbow to stare down at her, a sated look on his face. “Yeah?”

  “Let’s make a promise.”

  “O… kay,” he answered, sounding a bit unsure of what he was getting himself into.

  But Sarah knew deep in her heart that she had to do this. “Let’s promise to come back here for our first anniversary. To the Excelsior.”

  He smiled, answering way too quickly. “Okay, sure. Why not?”

  “No, Mac. I mean promise. That means you have to live. You have to be here. Same time, same date next year. Do you understand?”

  “Look, sweetheart. You know I can’t do that. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” When he saw the look on her face, he realized those were the wrong words to use, so he tried to backpedal. “I mean, I don’t know where they’ll send me. I could end up in New Jersey, for all I know, at the end of my tour.”

  They both knew she wasn’t talking about the end of his tour of duty. “Promise me.”

  “Sarah…”

  “No. I love you. We’re going to be here. One year from today. Both of us. You have to promise.” Sarah swore she wouldn’t, but couldn’t help the tears filling her eyes, threatening to overflow.

  He sighed. “All right, kitten. Don’t cry. I promise. I’ll be here.”

  “And we never say good-bye.”

  He smiled at Sarah. “And we never say good-bye.”

  One year later. Excelsior Hotel. Las Vegas.

  Sarah remembered every moment, every morsel of her honeymoon.

  Oh God, Mac. Where are you?

  The pharmacy photos still rested between her fingers and Sarah realized she was bending them. She smoothed the glossy paper with a gentle touch, staring down at the happy faces with envy.

  I will not cry.

  Thank God for Gil and Lenore. They took her under their wings, watching over her, helping her survive the devastating news that Mac’s helicopter went down in a jungle with a name she imprinted in her brain. Đắk Đoa. Đắk Đoa. They called it missing in action. MIA. She called it heart-rending.

  He went there to save lives, not give his own.

  Sarah reserved the honeymoon suite just as they’d shared. The room hadn’t changed. The bed, still cavernous as ever, made her jealous of her memories. Her body ached with need and remembered touches. Vignettes filled her mind. His arms wrapping about her waist. That delectable interlude in the shower.

  Sarah rose from the bed. She knew she shouldn’t have come. But that was the way with promises.

  Gil and Lenore drove her down, deciding they’d had such a good time, they’d come back for another vacation. Sarah knew better but didn’t argue. They hovered because they cared. But something inside her wouldn’t give up. Mac was still alive. She knew he was.

  She used his motto, “That Others May Live” and their promise. If she kept him alive in her heart, if she believed that he’d keep his promise, then she’d keep him alive physically. No matter where he was.

  It was as simple as that.

  When the room began to close in on her, she went down to the casino and played craps. Just as they had before. Not surprising, she didn’t win this time. Walking slowly out of the casino, she saw that Flower Drum Song was still playing. She bought four tickets with the hope that… As she stared at them sitting in her palm, tears threatened and her whole body shook with the need to break down.

  Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  She went back upstairs and ordered room service. She sat in the same chair. Every moment of their laughter played in her heart. But now the food tasted like dust. Only the champagne helped to ease the pain. To us, she toasted silently. Then she downed the contents. Eventually, the glass fell to the carpeting, unnoticed.

  When they’d first been together, time had been her enemy for it moved too fast. Time was still her enemy, for now it crawled with the agonizingly slow ticks of a second hand. Finally, she rose, went downstairs, and met Gil and Lenore to watch Flower Drum Song again. Her fist crushed the extra ticket all during the show.

  After saying goodnight to her friends, Sarah walked around the hotel a while. She hummed the song, You Are Beautiful, just as she had that night after they’d— This time she didn’t hide her tears. She even went to the Tower Bar, but this time the drink tasted lonely. She’d hoped that by recreating their weekend together, she could fill the empty hole inside.

  Sadly, it hadn’t worked.

  Still, she’d promised.

  At first she thought she’d be able to sleep in the bed alone. But it was too big, too empty. So she curled up in the loveseat and stared, losing herself in her memories.

  She met Gil and Lenore by the pool the next day and they tried to cheer her up. Recounting the story of Gil’s one bright moment on stage as he’d played their lawyer, gave her a smile at least. She even walked over to the pharmacy, her fingertips running over the fake paneling of the photo booth, and she remembered every second of them taking the pictures in her hand.

  Oh, Mac. I miss you so much.

  All of a sudden she realized the Excelsior wasn’t a glass slipper any more. Still, she’d promised. She walked back into the lobby, head held high, determined to make Mac proud of her.

  The same clerk stood behind the front desk. “Mrs. McDonald?”

  Sarah stopped short in surprise. “Yes?”

  “Can you come over here please?”

  “Of course.” Curiosity actually overrode the emptiness for a short moment. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry if you thought that.” He reached under the desk for an envelope. “A gentleman left this for you.”

  He handed Sarah an envelope, and her brows drew togeth
er. Was Gil playing a prank to cheer her up?

  She walked through the lobby, opening the envelope. A picture rested inside, and as she turned the envelope upside down, it fell into her palm. Dog-eared, scarred, a bit faded. It was of the two of them. Kissing. It was Mac’s.

  Her knees buckled. She looked around wildly waiting to see the Air Force Blue uniform and the sergeant who would tell her that her husband was dead. Her throat closed, and she feared she’d never take another breath.

  “Sarah?”

  She closed her eyes. Oh God, how could you be so cruel? To give me such a vivid memory at a time like this.

  “Sarah? Kitten?”

  Fisting her hands and pressing them against her ears, she shut out the voice. Only then did her nose tell her what her mind was so rudely denying.

  That was Mac’s cologne.

  “We promised we’d never say good-bye. I didn’t think that meant we’d never say hello.”

  Sarah staggered toward him. Her eyelids flew open. “Mac?”

  She stared up into a gaze filled with too many emotions. “Oh, Sarah. I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re real?”

  He smiled, his gaze flying over her face as if he couldn’t believe it either. “Yes, I’m real.”

  “I don’t understand. They told me you were missing four months ago. MIA.”

  His crown had tarnished. He stood leaning on a cane. New lines and creases had formed in his face that would never go away.

  “I was nearly captured. But some villagers helped put my leg together and got me to a company of South Vietnamese soldiers.”

  A part of him seemed ancient and beyond her care. “The South Vietnamese regulars finally helped me get back to Tan Son Nhut airbase. That took a while. So did my debriefing.”

  He was alive.

  “I asked them not to send word that I’d been found, and begged them to send me instead, since it was getting so close to our anniversary. I’m not sure if was because I was being such a pain or because they were calling me a hero.” He grinned. “They finally gave me a medical leave.”

  She knew he was alive because he’d grinned, and though some of the life had gone out of that devil-may-care curve of his mouth, his dimple was still the same.

 

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