Even though he had been deeply hurt by Anita, Briggs jumped at the chance to have her in his life again. He knew his Marine buddies would tell him he was being foolish, so he kept her letter to himself. That very same day, he’d written back, telling her she was still his one true love and writing to her would be the greatest thing in the world for him.
They’d exchanged letters every week, and in the last letter, he received a picture of Anita and young Sweetie sitting in the sunshine on the dock behind his house. He kept it in his pocket wherever he went, this image of the girl he loved and the beginnings of a family. It made Briggs think about how he wanted his life to be.
On the plane, he let in thoughts of home and how precious the memories of that place, and the people there, were to him. Existing in a place like Iraq had therapeutic value, but the desire of a simpler life without someone shooting at him had become quite attractive. He even thought about going to college. Catching a formal education looked better than catching bullets. Briggs’s brief encounter with Lt. Adams had sparked in him a thought that made a lot of sense. College didn’t seem like a bad idea. It was definitely better than boot blisters, crappy food, and the overwhelming opportunity to die in a country that didn’t want him there in the first place.
Briggs’s plane was scheduled to arrive at Cherry Point Marine Base at 1430 sharp. He thought it would never get there. Sitting for so long with nothing to do but think was hard. He changed the dressing on his arm and used a smaller, less obvious one. This wasn’t the first time he had come home shot up, and he knew it worried his mother. He would try to downplay his injuries, as always, but he also knew that it would be the first thing she would ask about and demand to inspect.
Briggs was on a flight with another Marine unit returning home at the end of its deployment. The excitement inside the cabin of the chartered 747 was familiar; however, it had little effect on Briggs. He felt alone. His excitement was contained only in his thoughts of seeing Anita. And that alone helped suppress the guilt he felt for not being with his friends in his unit. As the wheels of the aircraft touched down and rolled to a stop, “Welcome Home” banners could be seen strewn along the fences of the airfield. The entire flight line was swollen with family and friends as far as the chain-link fence would reach.
For each Marine on the plane, the sight lifted hearts and spirits to heights woefully lacking in the territories of battle.
The Marine he was sitting next to said, “Man, it’s good to be home.” Briggs agreed with a slight nod of his head, because speaking would only reveal the emotions he was trying so hard to keep in check.
The plane landed and he stepped onto the tarmac, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.
Yes, this is home.
Anita was the first to reach him, catching him off guard. She embraced him tightly, burying her face into his chest. He wrapped one hand around her body and the other held her head tenderly. He kissed the top of her head, welcoming the scent and feel of her, a woman now, but still his girl.
Oh my god! There you are. Briggs thought to himself as he embraced her. She seemed so small to him, so delicate and vulnerable. For that moment everything stopped, there was no sound, there was no color, and there was no motion. He froze the moment in his mind so that he would remember it forever. I don’t want this to stop. I don’t want to let go of her. He refused to let the fear and doubt of the moment falling apart to enter his mind.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said as she started to cry.
Then the hugs kept coming, next from his mother, then his sister, then his brother-in-law, and then his friends, each waiting their turn to welcome him home. Eventually the circle around him ran three deep. It humbled him to the core, and he swiped at the tears which ran steadily now—the embattled, tough Marine completely melted by his hometown welcome.
“Where do we pick up your bags?” his mother asked.
“This is it, just this small bag. I don’t need much where I’ve been.” He gave her a half smile, and she smiled back, wrapping her arms around him again.
“Welcome home, my son.”
He buried his head in his mother’s neck. “It’s good to be home, Mom.” His voice cracked a bit when he added, “I wish I could express to you just how good it is.”
Anita stood quietly next to him as he continued to greet his loved ones, but would occasionally gently reach out to touch his hand, his shoulder, and his back, as if claiming him for herself. At least, he hoped she was.
Anita and Scott did not speak much on the way back to the house; they were just content to be near each other. Everyone else was cackling like geese. The only real conversation Scott had was with his mother. She asked how long he would be home, and he told her almost the entire month. That was when it struck him as odd—he’d never heard of anyone spending so much time at home on convalescent leave for such a minor injury. Most of his friends only had ten days, a maximum of twenty. Well, chalk it up to good luck, he thought. Either way, he would take it.
The three-car procession with the minivan leading the way made it to Gloucester in less than forty minutes. A feast was on the table, just as he’d predicted, but the crowd seemed to have doubled compared to when he’d last returned home. There were more people, more cars, and even more boats tied up at the dock outside their home. Many he remembered from the last party, but others were just a blur from his past.
As Scott emerged from the car, applause erupted from the group. He started shaking hands and moving toward the house, and as he did, people patted him on the back, shoulders, and head. He stopped just short of the driveway and held up his hands. The symphony of voices and applause died down just enough for Scott to make a quick speech.
“Man, you people will do anything to get out of the house,” he said in a jovial manner. “Thank you, thank all of you, for coming to see me and welcoming me home. But the truth is I know you’re all here for the food, so don’t let me stop you.”
Amidst the laughter, the guests began to settle around the tables. An old family friend hollered out, “That’s right! It’s all about the food!” and another roar of laughter followed.
Everyone wanted to shake his hand and thank him for his service to their country. He was overwhelmed and humbled by their gratitude, though he secretly hoped as the day wore on that he would not be bombarded with questions about the war. He wanted to put that behind him for now. More than anything, he wanted to spend his time with Anita—and maybe get in a little fishing.
After the meal, he changed into his shorts and a Big Rock fishing tournament T-shirt. The crowd had diminished and a small group of women from church were cleaning up tables on the front lawn. Anita was patiently waiting for him in the living room, sitting on the couch and gazing out the back window toward Brown’s Island. He bent down and gently took her hand, lifted her from the couch, and embraced her.
There was a taste in his mouth from long-ago memories. Memories of his first kiss, his best kiss, his last kiss. The memory held his hopes of renewing his relationship with the giver of that kiss. He thought that kiss was lost to him forever, never again to be tasted. But love was not realistic, and neither was Scott when it came to Anita. He harbored hope, and in hope, there was no loss. He hoped she would belong to him again. He spoke the words he had longed to say for a long time.
“I know I told you this in my letters, but I wanted to say it to you again in person. I love you, Anita. I always have, and I always will.”
She started to tear up again and he wanted something more than tears between them, so he kissed her. And it blew his mind. He felt as though the magic between them was finally speaking to each other’s hearts. Her warm, soft body pressed against his like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly. He knew—as he’d always known—that they were meant to be together, just as sunlight was meant to bathe in the ocean. He drew back from her and looked into her eyes, which were brimming with tears until one finally spilled over. She giggled and he smiled, wiping that tear away with h
is hand. She gently laid her hand on his injured arm.
“Does it hurt still?” she asked, tenderness in her voice.
“Hm. Only when you press on it like that.”
“Oh!” she said, and pulled her hand away quickly, her eyes wide. When she caught on to his teasing, she made a tsk sound and slapped him on the other arm.
“You’re so bad,” she said, giggling lightly.
“Not so bad,” he said softly.
Then she gazed deeply into his eyes, smiling her intoxicating smile with her luscious full lips, and he became lost in her. His heartbeat quickened and he had to remember to breathe. The power of the moment was exhilarating.
He led her through the back door into the late afternoon sun, hand in hand, knowing if he didn’t get out of the house, he would have led her to his old room and closed the door for a long, long time.
It was peaceful there in the shallows, where the flat-bottom boats and the Down-easter’s gently jostled with the wind, begging to fish. Scott and Anita stood at the end of the dock and soaked in the moment. He felt at peace for the first time in months.
After a while, Charley, Scott’s old friend, and the Shepherd brothers broke the silence as they walked along the dock. Charley was wearing shin-high white rubber boots, lovingly referred to as “Harker’s Island house slippers.” His sunburned face was the product of a successful shrimping season, and his stained white T-shirt an expression of his gratitude for a feast well served.
“We are going to hit the flatfish tonight. You up for it, bro?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Scott said with a tired smile. His friends nodded, winked, and walked back along the dock.
The party was rapidly drawing to a close as more and more people left to return to their homes and leave the Briggs family to privately enjoy their reunion. The hordes of people that enjoyed the party helped clean up the grounds and put away all the dishes. There was little left to do so Scott’s mother ventured out with some friends to return home later that evening.
Scott and Anita made their way to the heavily wooded area of the property along the water’s edge. It was a place they would be unseen by anyone so that they could share a private moment.
Scott leaned into Anita and ran his hand up the back of her neck. Although she had left him for someone else and had had a child with another man, Scott didn’t give Anita’s past a second thought. He had her now, and if that was how it needed to play out for him to have her, then he was okay with that. More than okay.
They turned their attention to the setting sun, and Scott broke the silence.
“When my enlistment is up, I’m going to get out,” he said in a calm voice, rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb. He pulled her to him, then spun her around to face the setting sun. He wrapped his arms around her waist.
“I’ve decided to go to college and get a good job, one where people aren’t shooting at me,” he whispered in her ear.
She spun back around to look at him, her eyes wide with excitement. “Oh, Scott, that’s wonderful!” She held his face in her hands. “What do you want to do? What school are you going to attend?”
“Whoa, whoa, not so fast. I’m a long way off from making those decisions. I’ll figure it all out as I go along. Whatever I decide to do, I want to make sure I’ll be close to home.”
“Home,” she said with a widening smile.
“Yes, home. You were right. This is my home. I have seen a few places and I’m sure this is the place for me. Dodging bullets,” he lifted his injured arm, “or more like catching bullets, has gotten old.”
“Scott, you don’t know how happy that makes me. We don’t need anything more than this.”
He assumed she was talking about the love the two of them shared, but she turned to face the bay and spread out her arms. “All of this,” she whispered. Her fingertips were extended and separated so that the setting sun shone through them, flickering yellow and solid ribbons of gold.
He stepped back to take her in. Her slender body, so strong and yet so feminine, was perfectly centered in front of the sinking sun. She tossed her head back and spun in a tight circle. Her long strands of silky, blonde hair floated away from her shoulders and face. She completed one last spin and collided with him, pulling him down onto the lush green grass by the dock, straddling his hips.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot about your arm. Did I hurt you?” Anita covered her mouth with her hand and gazed down at his smiling face.
Scott let out a laugh so loud he was certain he could be heard all the way to the house. “The pain has been gone for a long time now, especially with you in my arms.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. My arm feels great, almost like it never happened. Look.” He held up his right arm, flexing his biceps. It bulged, firm and large. Anita squeezed it.
“Oh, yes, I see what you mean. My big, strong Marine.” Her smile revealed perfect white teeth.
Briggs lay beneath her as she sat upright and straight on top of him. He marveled at the way her hair floated back down to her shoulders and settled perfectly around her face. The backdrop of the sun danced across each errant strand still falling into position. She quickly changed from seriously intoxicating to impulsively seductive. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then on each side of his face. She gently touched her full, lush lips across his and lightly ran the tip of her tongue inside his mouth, beneath his upper lip. Starting at her thighs, Scott ran his hands up her sides, brushing her firm breasts with his thumbs and then in unison over her shoulders to the back of her head. He gathered up her hair in his hands and pulled her lips to his. She emitted a sound from deep within her core that vibrated from her throat as it escaped her lips.
Anita placed her hands on Scott’s chest, one on top of the other. She pushed away from him, arching her back, and lightly shook her head, allowing her hair to fall behind her shoulders and gather in the middle of her back.
“You are a goddess,” he exhaled. He placed his hands on her knees and then her hips. She untied the two strings that held up her sundress, and slowly, tauntingly, extended them as far as they would reach, holding up the ends with her fingertips. She paused with her arms stretched over her head. It felt like eternity. She let them fall. Her dress draped down, revealing the top of her magnificent breasts. They were full and firm, perfect in proportion. Scott dared not move a muscle. He reveled in her perfectly orchestrated ballet of seduction. And he knew she could feel just how appreciative he was of her efforts through the straining fabric of his pants.
She leaned forward once more and placed a tender kiss on his forehead, barely touching his skin. Then another, and another. Small beads of sweat popped up on his cheeks and neck. Scott let out a moan of surrender. He and Anita had been this far before and had always stopped.
Anita sat up, still straddling him, and gazed down as he lay helpless, his eyes barely open, swimming in the euphoria of their encounter.
“You’re so beautiful, and I’m so lucky,” he gasped, barely able to speak. “There isn’t a prettier girl on this earth.”
The light was quickly fading behind her. The orange and yellow of the sun softened the edges around her silhouette.
“We’re missing the sun taking its evening bath. It’s shedding its clothing of bright colors and dripping down into the ocean before it sleeps,” she said.
“Very poetic, but I would rather watch you,” Scott whispered. He ran his hands over her waist, his thumbs once again barely touching the sides of her breasts as he slid his hands up to her shoulders. The top of her sundress still dangled loosely over her tanned breasts, almost revealing the dark brown flesh of her hardened nipples. Anita pulled at the sundress, slowly revealing a fraction more of herself, then another, until the cotton fabric caught on her taut nipples. And that was the limit of his patience.
“Come here.” Scott placed his hands on either side of Anita’s face. He gently drew her close to him and kissed her softly on her lips. At
the same time, he reluctantly pulled up the strings of her dress and attempted to tie them back. As much as he wanted her, right there and then, he wanted her to know that it wasn’t just her body he wanted—he wanted all of her.
“Don’t forget my promise,” Scott whispered in her ear.
“I remember your promise. It was the sweetest thing you have ever said.” She smiled as though she was thinking of herself as the ten-year-old girl that Scott had asked to be his girlfriend. Only if you promise to marry me one day, she had responded, and he had promised with all his heart. Thus their love had begun.
Being married to Anita was, and had been, his dream for years. They had talked about marriage in the past, but it was not the right time now. When he asked her that all-important question, everything had to be right.
“Scott, it’s okay. I want you badly.”
“And I want you but I will keep my promise of virginity until we’re married. I’ll keep this promise to you, to us, and most importantly, to me.”
Scott rolled her over onto the grass and brushed the hair from her face.
“One of the reasons I love you so much is that you allow me to keep this promise,” he said. With that, he stood and walked to the edge of the grass where the sandy shore met the bay. He stood there in the falling darkness, staring intently out across the water.
He heard Anita stand, tie her top, and approach him. “That’s why I love you, Scott. You know, it’s hard to find a good man, especially one that keeps his word, even though it’s extremely difficult to do so sometimes.”
“Oh, trust me. It’s extremely hard, I mean, to do so, you know . . . to keep my word. And my pants on for that matter.”
Reluctant to end their reunion, they stood hand in hand, watching the sun kissing the waters of the Outer Banks. The bay was wide, interrupted only by the dark edges of Brown’s and Harkers Islands, where the water married with the sandy shorelines planted with cord grass and live oaks.
Shadows at War Page 10