by Lyz Kelley
“Is the pressure good?”
“Past good and rounding the corner to stellar,” she responded like a melody floating on an exhale. “If this is your version of foreplay, it’s working.”
The statement brought a smile to his face before it deflated and turned serious again. “You know I have to leave. I don’t have a choice. But it doesn’t have to be forever.”
“I know you have to leave. I do. But waiting around? I watched my mom waiting for my dad to come home. The loneliness. The heartache. That’s not how I want to live my life.”
“Before I leave, I want to make sure you’re okay.”
She drew in a deep breath. Her happiness wasn’t his responsibility. She wouldn’t let him own it. Besides, she’d promised herself that no one would ever again be the master of her fate.
“It’s in your Marine mantra to protect. But this time you’re going to have to let go. I’ll be fine.”
He studied her for a long time, his emotions unreadable. How was it that she wanted to push him away, and at the same time, crawl into his lap and reassure him that both of them would be okay?
“Chase?”
“I’m good.”
She arched her foot when his fingers found an extra-tender spot. “You are good.” She lifted her brows and winked. “I like when you touch me.”
“Yeah, well, I like the feel of your skin. Maybe too much. Part of me is working hard not to touch the rest of you since I’m leaving. And the other part of me wants to burn your body into my memories. I feel like I’m being torn apart here.”
Before Chase arrived, vivid memories of her past had spooled through her mind constantly, threatening to derail her plans. His presence had calmed the storm of images and allowed her to find stable ground.
“Sometimes I think the universe gives us gifts,” she said. His fierce, laser-targeted expression focused on her, a question in his eyes. “Chase, you’re my gift. You arrived just in time. You helped me understand that I’m not alone. I’ve learned that I can connect and be intimate without having to slice off a part of myself. I know you have to leave. I know.”
“Then you’re okay?”
No, she wasn’t. Not even in the slightest. “Let’s simply enjoy what comes. I want to spend these last few days creating memories,” to last a good long while, and hope someday you’ll come back to me.
He eyed her skeptically, the protective soldier still wanting to make sure everything was locked down. Unfortunately, human emotions weren’t that simple.
“Chase?” His gaze lifted to hers and his fingers tightened around her foot. “Do you ever talk about the war?”
“Not usually.”
“The look in your eye today at the gym. Your reactions. You weren’t here. You were back overseas. I’d think you’d want to talk to someone.”
“Unless you were there, it’s hard to explain. Bobby and I talked. We used to sit out on nights like this. Mind you, Bobby did most of the jaw-flapping while I listened.”
Ashley honed in on his body language. “Do you ever dream about it…I mean the war?”
“Sometimes. It’s weird, though. When I dream, it’s as if I’m watching through this haze. I can hear sounds, see shadows, but I’m only observing. But if I’m awake, I remember details. Crowds or lots of bodies in a packed space tend to set me off. I can feel the static of bullets whizzing overhead, the sound of a rocket, radio commands in my ear, and my heart pounds like it’s going to jump out of my chest. That’s when the adrenaline takes over, honing every sense and thought. Military pre-programming takes control and my body moves in predictable patterns. Clarity kicks in and I go to work. Then something will pull me out. A voice or sound.”
“I wish I could understand.”
“No, you don’t. What went on over there needs to stay over there.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. What happened over there is a part of you, same as watching my mom die is a part of me. What you experienced isn’t something to hide or avoid talking about.”
“Soldiering is not as glamorous as you think. There’s a lot of practicing, preparing to go and then waiting around. It’s hours of interminable boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.” He shifted uneasily like he was sitting on a rock.
“Chase, I’m not a reporter wanting you to give me some headline story.” She untied the strings on the bagful of patience she’d come to rely on. “I’m a plain, simple woman who wants to know more about you. The good times. The difficult times.”
His warm hands stilled on her foot while he gave her a considering gaze. “You’re anything but plain, Ashley.”
The playful look on his face made her want things, like his lips on her mouth. “Don’t change subjects.”
“What do you want to know?”
Something in the woods caught his attention, and she followed the direction of his look to the tree line. A large male elk, not yet settled for the night, lifted his head from the elder bush.
“There go Mom’s shrubs.” Sorrow sank in. “I guess she won’t care anymore. And I certainly don’t give a crap what the bank thinks. Have a good meal, buddy,” she called to the animal.
Chase tugged on her right big toe and pulled her sock back on. “I bet he appreciates you not chasing him off with pie tins like you did the other day.” He tapped her left foot. “Next.”
He made easy work of removing the other sock and preparing her foot for pampering. The pure bliss on his face made her wonder what the private man had going on in that thick head. Maybe if she shared, he’d eventually learn to do the same.
“My mom and dad’s letters have this funny code on the back.”
“So many letters get misdirected, damaged, or lost. The code might have been a combination of a date or a letter sequence. I’m amazed we get any mail at all.”
The simplicity of the explanation fit. “My dad sent another coin with Mom’s letters.” Her fingers surrounded the warm object in her pocket and brought it out into the brisk night air. She held the weight in her palm, then extended her arm. A curious yet expanding excitement splashed across his face as he reverently lifted the coin from her hand. She watched, intrigued, while he tilted the metal into the firelight.
Chase tilted the metal into the firelight. “HOLY. SHIT.” His fingers skimmed across the numbers engraved on the back of the coin.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you know what this is?”
Ashley tugged the comforter higher. “I couldn’t say for sure, but it looks like some presidential memento my dad picked up in a gift shop somewhere.”
“Ash. You can’t buy this coin. It’s only presented to you. And it’s rarely conferred on anyone.”
“I’m sure you’re mistaken. My dad always sends me these things. I have a whole box of them.”
He passed the coin back. “Can I see?”
She could feel his excitement vibrating through her foot resting in his lap. The raw emotion startled her, and she didn’t quite know how to handle the open eagerness, but she wanted to nurture his passion.
“Sure, if you want.”
He jumped up like a cinder had lit his butt on fire. “I’ll tend the fireplace and take Lucky for a whiz, then meet you inside.” The words rolled out of his mouth with the excitement of a kid on Christmas Day. He canvassed the deck like he wasn’t sure what to do first. She liked seeing him so excited that he didn’t know what to do next. Strong emotions slipped past his guarded walls and helped her connect to him in a way she hadn’t been able to before. Although she didn’t dare hope it would last.
She pulled on her sock. “The coins are in my room somewhere. I’ll look for them and meet you there in a few.”
Halfway up the back stairs, she grabbed the stair railing and her feet leapt into overdrive, propelling her to the bedroom door. She unzipped and threw her coat on her desk chair, then lifted the bed dust ruffle, pushing and sliding packed storage bins, searching for the handmade cherrywood box. She rushed to her closet,
which was filled with packed boxes, and scanned the upper racks. Nothing. With hands on hips, she moved to the room’s center, perusing the empty dresser, bookcase, shelf, considering which box she might have packed the item in. After several minutes, her gaze landed on the edge of a thin box, hidden on her desk behind a pile of books, and her miniature silver picture frame collection waiting to be packed. Lifting the box, she turned. Chase studied the handmade treasure.
She sat on the bed, folding her legs in front of her. Thirteen coins rested in the glass display case. She lifted the inlaid lid and straightened a few before rotating the box for Chase to see.
His hand reached for the first treasured piece her father had given her. He rolled the heavy bronze in his palm. She’d held it often enough to know the weight, shape, and curve of the coin.
“Ashley, where’s your father now?” A touch of admiration softened his voice.
“I don’t know. He moves around a lot. I think he’s in Washington, D.C., but I can’t tell by the APO he gave me. Why?”
Chase paced the room, agitated, glancing at her from time to time. When he paced close to the bed, she reached for him. His fingers were cold, and she tightened her hand around his to prevent him from pulling away.
“What are you thinking?”
“When you said your dad was a Marine, I assumed you meant a veteran, some guy who’d done his twenty and retired. Your dad’s still in, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So? If I’m guessing correctly, your dad’s Brigadier General Bryant, one of the most decorated Marines still in the service.”
“Sounds about right. My mom said something about a promotion. You have to remember, for the last five years, I can probably count on my fingers the number of times I’ve talked to my dad—don’t even need to use my toes.”
When he didn’t laugh, she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling self-conscious. Her mother had mentioned something about her dad’s big promotion, but her mom was in the middle of a really bad spell, and Ashley hadn’t paid much attention at the time. Her days were filled with laundry, meal preparation, physical therapy sessions twice a day, and medications every four hours, and she didn’t have time to think about the here-and-gone-again parent halfway across the country.
Chase stared at the box. He replaced the coin, lifted the box, and moved it to the nightstand. He knelt by the bed and took her hand into his. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice, it’s just…your dad’s a hero. A lot of soldiers admire him. He’s done a lot for the Corps.”
He pointed at the box and proceeded to recite the history of a man she barely knew. She knew Marine movements, but she didn’t recognize the hero Chase described. She’d only met the quiet, unassuming man. The man who, when home, went for long walks and spent hours shut away in his work area, fixing things, sometimes making a piece of furniture, or special display boxes. Chase’s sincere awe raised the hair on her arms.
He poked at the newest edition. “This one is the president’s coin. Only the president can present this medallion.”
“Chase, my dad’s a Marine. He doesn’t talk much. And he never talks about work. Ever,” she said, offering the twisted and pathetic excuse. “When he called home, all he wanted was to talk to Mom.”
“He probably can’t talk about his work, literally, with his level of security clearance.”
She hated the sting in her eyes. Blinking, she fought the liquid hovering on the edge of her emotions, waiting to spill over and embarrass her. She pushed off the bed and moved to her desk, turning off her laptop and straightening the piles of letters, doing anything she could to distract her brain from engaging. Wanting to be anywhere else than in the presence of a guy who believed her dad was a hero, and an honorable man. A man she barely knew and had been angry at most of her life.
She didn’t want to let a guy, thousands of miles away, who she barely knew, impact her anymore. “It’s been a long day. Heck, it’s been a long week.”
“Ashley.” He gently moved a strand of hair behind her ear and hesitated, as if choosing his words very carefully. “I didn’t mean to make you sad. Just the opposite. I know now where you get your strength. You have it in your genes.”
No, I’m not. I’m not strong. And, even if I were, I didn’t get it from my dad.
He put pressure on her shoulders until she turned. A gentle finger lifted her chin until she had no choice but to meet his scrutiny. “You give so much of yourself.”
She tried to push past him, but his strong arms held on, and she collapsed against his chest. Tears of anger, resentment, and fear welled up and crashed through the dam of anger and grief, forcing the emotions out, sweeping past and annihilating debris from her past, leaving little behind. She clung to him, a sword in the rock of her soul.
“Ash?”
“I’m not strong,” she sobbed against his chest.
Her feet left the floor when he lifted her into his arms. She clung to him as if her life was about to shatter in a hundred million pieces.
His arms tightened around her. “Let it loose.”
His soft lips pressed to her forehead and ripped a bigger hole in the dam wall. She couldn’t stop the gush of tears, and didn’t want to. And when the last drop of emotion floated out of sight, there came a sense of lightness, of freedom. Her past had been ripped from the deep ground and swept away in the storm of tears, leaving behind a vivid landscape of possibilities. She released her grip, trusting Chase could catch her.
She tilted her head back. “I haven’t cried for months, then you come along, and I turn into a water faucet.”
“Your tears fill my soul like a rejuvenating forest rain.” The poem resonated from deep in his chest.
“That’s beautiful. Is that from a poem you’ve read?”
“No. It’s one of mine.”
She’s not your mother. Let her in.
Chase could feel his heart resisting. His mother had blown apart his world until trust didn’t come willingly. He’d built an intricate defense system to hide his love of poetry, guitar playing, woodworking, and anything else he cared about, making sure no one could call his pursuits pathetic like his mother had done.
He’d faced the enemy overseas. Maybe it was time to face the enemies at home.
“I love playing with words, arranging them, then rearranging then to find a different meaning. Would you like to write a poem with me?”
She lifted her head from his chest, her swimming eyes and red nose making him tighten his grip. “That would be…” She brushed the tears from her cheek. “I’d really like that.”
The encouragement felt refreshing. “I like working with clay. There’s something about working with materials from the earth, building and sculpting, creating something meaningful. I can tell your dad’s the same. He’s got an exceptionally nice collection of woodworking tools.”
“Mom always bought him something new to add to his collection. He spent hours in the garage making things for her. A jewelry box. A lamp. A recipe box.”
“I could only dream of having a setup like that. I can see why he spent so much time there.”
“And just think. In a few weeks, all the tools will be boxed and put away, perhaps sold.”
“Maybe someday he’ll rebuild.”
That’s what I would do. Find my island of sanity.
Coming back to the States, Chase acknowledged it was time to make a tough decision. While fixing things, he put a list of pluses and minuses together in his head, trying to come to terms with what he wanted to do. He’d been thinking about it for the past year, not sure whether he could handle the mental strain of another tour. His aging body hurt more this tour than the last.
Ashley had been right when she said he’d seen and felt things a human shouldn’t have to see or live with. The nightmares were getting worse. She’d not only been right, but she also made things more complicated.
She made him feel things. Welcoming things. Scary things. Things that made him want to go down to
the local jewelry store and pick out a ring, plop it on her finger and drag her back to North Carolina with him.
But she’d said she wouldn’t go. Did that mean ever? Or only for now?
Ashley poked his chest. “What are you thinking about?”
Her glistening eyelashes and stunning hazel eyes softened his heart. He smelled the sugary sweet scent on her clothes from working with baked goods all day, combined with dinner and the musk of the fire, completing a perfect combination of sweet and spicy. Her breath caressed his neck, and his arms instinctively pulled her tighter. With his finger, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. She waited for an answer, and he wanted to give her one, but he wanted honesty between them.
“What would you think if I got out of the military and moved to Colorado?”
Her body stiffened.
His silent alarm sounded, and his heart started racing.
He flicked the switch to drop into his marine-battle-ready-mode. He scanned every movement. He waited. The only problem? He couldn’t anticipate.
She tucked her head to hide her face. “Gosh. That’s a big move. What would you do for a job?”
That wasn’t the response he expected, or wanted.
His fists tightened. “Good question. I don’t know.”
I’m good at solving problems. I would find something.
Her fingers, gliding down the side of his face, forced his gaze to return to her exquisite face. He’d fallen into her web. “That wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Was it?”
Determination replaced his insecurities. “I don’t want you to shut me out of your life. Not yet.”
“I won’t. Not yet.” Her lips curved into a smile, not a deceptive smile, but one he’d constructed a time or two when he wanted to ease a friend’s mind but wasn’t certain of how he truly felt.
He wanted to see that radiant glow again. He leaned in, and sure enough got his wish. He dropped altitude, took aim and found her mouth. Her mouth moved against his and scrambled all communication leading to his brain, causing his backup functions to kick in, and the backup brain kicked in with a jolt. Forgetting the reasons he’d laid out for not touching, he let his arms draw her closer and closer until he saw nothing but her.