by Suzy Parish
With one last screech, the plane limped to a halt.
“The captain has decided to allow you to disembark. Please be careful when opening overhead bins as contents may have shifted during flight,” the attendant announced.
I still had a four-hour layover in Atlanta, but it was on American soil.
I was off the plane, working my way through the crowd to the nearest men’s room. My shirt was soaked through with sweat. I would have preferred a locker room with showers, but they charged for those. On the way, I called Sophie. The call went through. Her voice was giddy.
“Mac, I can’t wait to see you. I was almost tempted to drive over there to pick you up just so I could see you four hours earlier, but I didn’t think you’d want to spend four hours in a car after fifteen in the air,” Sophie said.
“It’s OK. I’ll be there soon. I’m going to go clean up now. I’ll get a shower when I get to the house, but right now I want to wash up a little. I’m pretty nasty.”
“See you soon,” she said.
“See you soon,” I echoed. I’d wash up in the sink as best as I could. I would have shaved, but I glanced in a mirror and congratulated myself on the decision to keep the beard. I studied it in the mirror, took out my comb and tried to tame it.
I had Gul trim it before I left camp, and he shaped it nicely. I brushed my teeth and swished some mouthwash around in my mouth. It was odd to be able to use tap water to brush my teeth. At camp, we used bottled water or mouthwash. The local water was full of parasites.
I exited the restroom and looked for a fast food restaurant. Sophie tried to get me to eat healthily, but I hadn’t tasted fast food in months. When it was my turn in line, I bought everything: a burger, fries, shake, soft drink, apple pie. By the time I was through eating, I had regretted the extras.
Boarding the flight home, I could barely make myself stand still in line to get on the plane. Time was ticking down, and it seemed harder to wait to see Sophie the closer it got. I watched the countryside go by through the window of the plane. Green. Everything was so green, a nice change compared to miles of desert.
Soon after landing, I walked down the concourse, backpack slung over my shoulder. I didn’t check a bag. Didn’t want to keep up with it. All my civilian clothes waited at home for me in the closet. I enjoyed the sounds and smells of home. People hurried everywhere. Did they even appreciate the freedom they had? I hopped on the escalator and quickly started ducking and scanning for a glimpse of Sophie. I pegged her right off the bat. She was standing in the front of the line with a little American flag in her hand. She was wearing some kind of silky dress, the color of the Afghanistan sky at sunset. I stopped moving when I saw her. Just stood there for a moment. She was stunning.
People were grumbling behind me, bumping into my back, walking around me like I was some kind of moron. But it took a moment for my legs to start moving again. All I could think was, I’m in trouble. I dropped my bag and gathered her into my arms. The smell of her blackberry-woodsy perfume curled around me. Her arms went around my neck, and she kissed me. People were watching, but we didn’t care. After a moment I made myself pull back, held her at arm’s length. Drank her in.
“Let’s go home,” Sophie said. Her words tasted like honey.
Sophie led me to our red vintage auto in the terminal. Even the old car felt like home.
We popped the trunk, and I threw my bag in. Before I could close the lid, Sophie’s arms were around me again. We stood like that for a moment. I was breathing in her fragrance, feeling her hair against my face.
“Come on. I want to get you home. You have to be exhausted.”
Sophie slipped into the driver’s seat. I was grateful she wanted to drive. I was feeling the effects of all the travel. It was impossible to keep my eyes open.
“How was your flight?” Sophie asked question after question.
I jerked awake.
“I can’t believe you’re here for real and not just a picture on my laptop.” She took my hand and twined her fingers in mine. Every mile or so she glanced over at me. “I’m afraid if I take my eyes off you, you’ll disappear.”
I felt the same way. I looked back and forth out the window, taking in the scenery. I couldn’t get over the trees, flowers, and grass, acres and acres of green grass. We had trees in camp, but due to all the traffic, the leaves stayed pretty much covered in dirt. It was a shame because sometimes I could see the beauty that used to be there, back when it was a fruit cannery.
We had a twenty-minute drive, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere. I just wanted to enjoy being home. I was surprised at my attitude. I was a driven man before I left. I’d told Travis before I departed Afghanistan that I didn’t even like disputes anymore. I stay out of them. I just nod my head and go on.
We pulled into the driveway of our little Craftsman-style house and parked. Sophie had draped the front of the porch in red, white, and blue bunting. There was an American flag hanging from a bracket on the side of the front porch.
“Did you put that flag bracket up yourself?” I was impressed. To say Sophie wasn’t handy with tools was an understatement.
Her face grew flushed. “No, the neighbor next door hung it for me. She saw me struggling with the screwdriver and rescued me.”
We jumped out of the car, and before I was even in the front door, I heard Phoenix’s excited barking.
Sophie unlocked the door, and he immediately jumped, bouncing his front feet on my chest. Phoenix tried to lick my face, and all the while made a whining, crying noise that I’d never heard him make before. I set my bag down and sat on the floor with him. I wrapped my arms around his stout body. “I missed you, boy,” I said. I burrowed my face in the fur at his neck. Emotion welled up in me, and my eyes filled with tears. They moistened his fur.
I pictured him once again as a pup, discarded like trash. How I wished for someone to pluck me out of my sin in the same way I’d rescued him. I cleared my throat. “He looks good, Soph. You’re a good dog mommy.”
“When I took Phoenix to the vet for his shots, they said he’s up to fifty pounds now,” Sophie said.
“Do they think he’ll get bigger?”
“No, they said he’s pretty much topped out. When he first showed up on our doorstep, I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. I fed him and brushed him, cleaned up after him, but that was it. I didn’t want to become attached to him.” Sophie’s hand slipped down, and she rubbed Phoenix behind his ears. A favorite spot for him. He looked up at her with adoration in his eyes.
“I knew you never wanted an indoor dog, and I dumped him on you. I’m sorry,” I said.
“Every evening he slept closer and closer to our bed. I stepped around him and tried to make it clear the bed was off limits,” Sophie continued. “One night, I climbed into bed, and there was this scrambling noise and the next thing I knew, I was looking Phoenix eye to eye. I didn’t say anything. He turned around in a circle and lay at the foot of the bed, on your side. I didn’t have the heart to make him leave. I think he knew it’s where you sleep,” Sophie said. “He’s been there every night since.”
Phoenix rolled over on his back, so I could rub his belly.
“He made me feel safe all the nights I was alone,” Sophie said.
“You should have seen him when I found him. He was a little guy. Come to think of it, I have pictures on my hard drive. I’ll show you later.” I gave Phoenix a quick belly rub, but I was ready for a shower. I couldn’t stand the two days of grunge much longer. “I’m going to hit the shower.”
She came up to me and kissed me again. “Are you hungry?”
The greasy hamburger sat like lead in my stomach. “Uh, no. I ate at the airport.”
“OK.” She smiled and grabbed me for one more hug.
I stood in our old tiled shower. Same one I’d used for years, but everything seemed new. The water was as hot as I wanted. I turned the handles up full force. I stood under the stream of water as long
as I wanted. I felt like a teenager again, staying in the shower until my mom yelled that I’d used all the hot water.
In the middle of my reverie, I was acutely aware of my friend Gul and his son. I couldn’t get their faces out of my head. Each joy I found was tempered by the fact that they didn’t have a chance to experience it. Not that I’m one who felt I should punish myself for our abundance. No. What I felt was an overwhelming desire to help them as I was able.
I toweled off and dug around in our dresser for clean clothes. I was a new person.
Sophie was waiting for me in the kitchen. She’d made me a loaf of cheesy bread. But before I took a bite, I found a tray of cinnamon rolls cooling on the counter.
I laid the cheese bread down and took a bite from a warm cinnamon roll, glaze dripping down my fingers. I ate the roll in two bites and licked the glaze from my fingers with a smacking sound.
“Nice to see you didn’t lose your manners in Afghanistan. Look at your clothes.” She stood back and gazed at me. “You’ve lost weight, and they’re hanging off of you.”
I caught my reflection in the microwave door. Months of working out and long hikes had paid off. My old clothes swallowed my frame. I cinched my belt in several notches and reached for another cinnamon roll.
“Go easy on those, babe, or I have a feeling you’ll fill those clothes back out,” Sophie said and winked. The corners of her mouth turned up in a grin.
I took her in my arms, pulled her against me. She tasted like cinnamon, smelled like warm rolls fresh from the oven. My hands were in her hair, her breath against my cheek.
Phoenix whined.
Sophie pulled back and laughed. “He doesn’t like us kissing.”
I led her to the bedroom. Leaning out the door, I told Phoenix, “Stay there, boy. Mommy and Daddy will be out later.” I closed the door firmly behind me. The last thing I saw was Phoenix near the door, keeping guard.
Too many miles had separated us. But soon that would all be behind us. We were starting a new chapter in our lives. I could feel it. Would Sophie continue to believe in me?
24
I rolled over, disoriented. For a minute I wondered where I was. I should have been in my cot. But soft sheets wrapped around me. A digital alarm clock cast a green glow. Ten o’clock at night?
Light streamed under the bedroom door, and the sound of dishes clanked in the kitchen. I stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the light. I didn’t recognize myself. I wasn’t accustomed to seeing a beard in that mirror. I liked it. I jumped in the shower and took a hot, lathery shower, reveling in the extravagance of unlimited clean water. By the time I dressed and walked into the kitchen, the clock on the wall read eleven.
“Is it really eleven at night?” I came up behind Sophie, who was washing dishes at our sink. I put my arms around her. Hugged her from behind.
“Yes, you slept quite a while. You’re obviously still on Afghanistan time.”
She was correct, and my stomach demanded breakfast. “Do you have any eggs and bacon?”
“Now that’s a silly question.” She pulled out a tray of bacon, already cooked. “I fried it while you were asleep, I knew you’d wake up and want breakfast.”
“You’re spoiling me, but don’t stop.” I leaned into the fridge, took out the egg carton, removed three eggs, and placed the container back. What a huge fridge. “Has the refrigerator always been this big?”
Sophie looked at me as if I were odd. “Yes, of course.”
“The whole house seems larger.” I walked out space on the kitchen floor and showed her. “This is the size area I’m living in. This is how big my room is in the tent.”
Her face showed a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. “Wow.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s funny how fast I got used to it, too. Now, this house feels like a mansion.” I snapped a piece of bacon off with my fingers and chewed it while I cooked my eggs. “Over easy. They never let me eat them over easy in-country.”
“Oh, why?”
“Salmonella.” I flipped the eggs onto my plate, added bacon strips, and pushed the toast lever down.
Phoenix sat at attention by my feet.
I slipped him a piece of bacon when Sophie wasn’t looking.
“Don’t give him any bacon, by the way. I have him on a strict diet, and I don’t want him to learn to beg at the table,” Sophie said.
“Oh, absolutely.” I sat at our table and cut into my eggs.
Phoenix slipped in under my chair.
I sneaked him another piece of bacon.
Sophie turned around as Phoenix swallowed. “Did you just give him bacon?”
“What are we doing today?” I tried to redirect Sophie’s attention. I could swear Phoenix smiled at me.
“Well, tonight I’m getting some sleep. I figured you’d be on your old schedule. Tomorrow I have to man the table at the Baker Street Market. I have thirty loaves of bread baked and five trays of yeast rolls. Four trays of cinnamon rolls, minus what we ate tonight.” She gave me a wink.
“I’d love to help you with your table.”
“Great. Then after you eat, I’m going to bed. The tablecloth and banner are rolled up in the foyer. I’ll show those to you tomorrow.” Her gaze fastened on me. They glistened. “I love you, Mac McCann. Did I ever tell you that?”
“I love you more, and my heart is bigger,” I said.
Sophie trudged off to bed. She was as exhausted as I was. She leaned out the bedroom door and threw me an air kiss, just as we did each night online. “Good night, babe.”
“Good night, Soph.” I relaxed in the recliner. Phoenix started out sitting at my feet then propped his front feet on my legs and slowly worked his way into my lap. He was big for a lap dog. I leaned around his fifty-pound frame and clicked the remote on our TV. Pretty soon I heard soft breathing coming from the bedroom. I turned down the volume on the television and listened. I could listen to that sound forever and not tire of it.
Phoenix licked the side of my face, and I laughed then shushed myself.
The sports channel was showing highlights of my favorite baseball team.
It didn’t get any better than that.
~*~
“Morning, Soph. What time is it?” I must have dozed off in the recliner because the next thing I knew Sophie was trying to tiptoe past me. Phoenix woke me, jumping off my lap.
“I let you sleep as long as I could. “It’s 10:00 AM.”
I pushed myself out of the chair, stiff. “Tonight, I’m sleeping in our bed.”
“I have to eat and then I need to pack for the market,” Sophie said.
“What time do we have to be there?”
“Twelve, to get our table location and set up.”
“OK. I’ll shower and change clothes.” When I came out, Sophie was nowhere to be seen. I walked through the house calling for her. Finally, I looked out the front window and spied her.
She sat in the wicker swing I hung on the porch for her years ago. I winced when I saw that swing. She and Little Mac used to read there every morning. She had a cup of coffee, and she was sitting in the early morning sunshine. Sunlight filtered through the purple climbing flowers she’d planted on the trellis I’d built.
She gazed across the street, over the stone wall of Dogwood Hill Cemetery. Her head turned east, gaze searching past the old section. I was likely the only person who knew what she probably saw in her mind.
I pushed the front door open and took a seat next to her. I joggled the swing and some coffee spilled on her jeans. “I’m sorry.” I jumped up to get her a kitchen towel.
“It’s OK, babe.”
“What are you doing?”
“I sit out here in the morning. Sometimes I bring the laptop. The first thing I do every day is check for your e-mail.” Sophie glided the swing back and forth with a push of her foot.
I joined her on the swing, and we sat quietly. This was the first time in months my muscles weren’t knotted with tension.
“I mis
s him,” Sophie said.
My breath caught. I got up and quietly moved back into the house. I could see Sophie through the window. She was staring out across the lawn.
Phoenix wagged his tail and wanted to play. He brought me his stuffed toy. I threw it again and again, and he brought it back each time. Phoenix was so faithful. Conviction hit me. Sophie was the epitome of faithfulness. Could I become that for her again?
After a while, Sophie came inside, and we didn’t mention the conversation. I had a bad habit of avoiding uncomfortable discussions. It began as a rookie cop. I knew that about myself, but I always seemed to find excuses not to change.
I grabbed her banner and unrolled it on the floor. It was professionally done, silk screened and read Sophie’s Southern Breads. “This is nice,” I said.
Sophie knelt on the floor to admire it with me.
“You named the business. I went down to the sign shop in town and had them make a banner. I think it turned out pretty well.”
“It’s great, and I can’t wait to see it with your bread on a table underneath.”
Sophie glanced at the clock. “We need to pack up.”
“OK, you just tell me what to do, and I’ll help.”
“I need this banner and tablecloth in the trunk of the car. Then we’ll wrap the cinnamon roll trays with plastic wrap, load them and the bread in the back seat, so they don’t get crushed. I had business cards made up in case people want to place an order. I need to bring those and that business card holder, and some water bottles for you and me. It gets hot sitting in the sun.”
“I had no idea there was this much work involved.”
“Oh, it’s not that much. Not when you’re doing what you love.”
Had I ever done what I love? Then I remembered. That was one of the reasons I went to Afghanistan. The military. Sad that what I loved, Sophie hated.
Together we packed the bread, rolls, and everything else into the sedan. One thing was evident to me. If Sophie was to continue in this business, we had to get her a bigger vehicle. Cars weren’t made to be delivery vehicles. But it was only a ten-minute drive. We lived so close to downtown. We pulled up and unloaded.