My mouth was agape again. She was full of surprises that day. “Mom!” Then I laughed and said, “Well, I know of at least one time that he must have looked at you that way, because I’m standing here.”
We both laughed at that, and it released the butterflies I’d been holding captive in my stomach the entire day. I was ready to get married.
* * * * * * * * *
My father walked me down the aisle. It was the first time I could remember ever having his undivided attention. His new wife Susan sat in a chair toward the front. He was the first to remarry after the divorce and I kind of blamed Susan for ‘stealing’ my father in the beginning. Of course, I grew up and realized that things didn’t exactly happen the way I’d conjured them up in my mind. My parents assured me their split was mutual.
Since Harley was a Second Lieutenant, the ceremony was true-to-form military style with all the elaborate traditions. It was held in an open field near the base. My dress was gorgeous, capped-sleeved, satin, with a sweetheart neckline and flowy bodice. I carried a bouquet of purple and white roses. My veil was a simple circular flower arrangement with traditional tulle that cascaded down my back.
I was enamored to learn that the passage through the ‘arch of steel’, presented by his fellow military buddies, was meant to ensure our safe transition into our new life together.
The reception wasn’t quite as elaborate, but was perfect for us. We serenaded our guests with our notorious rendition of “I Got You Babe” to commemorate the day.
At last the night ended and we said our “thank-yous” and “goodbyes” then made our escape to Port Canaveral to board the Lady of the Seas cruise ship, destined for the Bahamas for the next seven days.
* * * * * * * * *
I hang the picture back on the wall and continue to stand there looking at all the others in our collection. There’s one of us on the cruise ship, another with us snorkeling in the crystal blue waters of the Bahamas.
The one thing I made sure to do when we moved in was create an ‘Our Story’ wall, an idea I’d seen on Pinterest. I knew I wanted to have one in my own home someday.
I just never imagined our story would have ended so soon.
CHAPTER THREE
It’s amazing how much one can miss taking care of another person. There’s no extra laundry to be done, no dirty dishes to wash.
His clothes hang in perfect rows in the closet, his toothbrush sits dry and unpasted in its holder. I asked him three times if he’d packed it. Not that he needs it now.
Cruel reminders are everywhere that he’s never coming back for these things, that he’s never going to need them again. The joy and laughter that once filled our room mocks me now. What’s there to look forward to anymore?
I curl up in a ball under the covers and breathe in what little of him remains on his pillow. Behind my tear-soaked eyes lurks a memory of our last day together when he was alive. It had started out as the perfect day.
* * * * * * * * *
Harley slept in as I tiptoed downstairs to make breakfast. In moments, the house was infused with the scent of bacon, eggs, French toast, and coffee. I enjoyed my food out on the back porch watching the waves caress the shore. I finished my meal, placed some fresh fruit in a bowl on the side, and carried the tray upstairs. He blinked his sleepy eyes when he saw me. His smile was intoxicating.
“Mmm, looks delicious.” He sat up in bed with arms folded behind his head.
“Well, after last night, I figured you could use a little refueling.” I offered him a dirty smile.
“The food looks good too.” He returned my gesture, took the tray from my hands and sat it on the dresser. Then he grabbed me by the waist, and threw me onto the bed.
I squealed and squirmed around in hopes of escaping his strong fingers that were torturing my ribs. “No, stop! I hate to be tickled!”
“Ooohhh, let’s find out if I can make you pee your pants,” he teased, and continued to find other reactive areas.
Finally, I made my counterattack and managed to grab the bulging stones between his legs. I squeezed until the power in his fingers diminished and he surrendered.
“Ha, looks like I’m not the only ticklish one.” I threw him a victorious smile, released his genitals, and fell onto my back.
He gently rolled on top of me and stared into my blue eyes. His soft fingers brushed through strands of my hair. “I love you, Jewel. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to get to wake up to you every day for the rest of my life. Thank you for marrying me and making me the happiest man alive.”
“I love you too, Harley. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m proud to be your wife.”
We locked lips, barely allowing a breath to escape. His hands began to wander and just as they reached my belly button, the phone rang.
Our passionate moment was replaced by silence as he answered it.
“This is Harley.” He shooed me away from him and whispered “go away” with a smile. Then, “No, Sir. Not you, Sir.”
My husband’s eyes adopted a gloomy appearance and he turned away to finish the conversation. I heard the words, “Yes sir, I will be there.” And then a click.
Knots formed in my stomach and my breakfast threatened to reappear. I closed my eyes hard and the only sound I heard was the echo of my pounding pulse. I knew this time would come eventually, but didn’t expect it to happen so soon. No, no, no. It wasn’t fair. We’d just returned from our honeymoon, hadn’t even had our first fight as a married couple.
He’d hung up the phone, almost in slow motion and sat on the bed without a word; his head hung low, his breath heavy. He turned to face me and took both of my shaking hands in his.
“That was my commander. He said we pull out at 0600.”
Tears pooled in his eyes. I’d never actually seen him cry and I wasn’t sure how I would react if I did. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to contain my own emotions, so I forced myself to play my part the same way I did when my parents told me they were divorcing. I shut down. My arms pulled away from his and I began to pack his things as I rambled.
“So what all do you need to take? Will it be hot there?”
I grabbed a few t-shirts and pairs of boxers. “How many pairs of socks do you think you’ll need?”
I wanted to die inside with each piece I placed inside his duffle bag. My stride was broken for a moment as I paused to inhale the scent of one of his t-shirts. My body shuddered and tears streamed down my face. I wasn’t able to fake it as well with him.
Harley wrapped both of his arms around my waist and placed soft kisses on the back of my neck.
“Jewel, honey. Look at me.”
I restored my brave face and turned around with my eyes trained on his—determined not to let him see my tears. His muscles bulged against my skin with tension and he embraced me as if he never wanted to let go.
“It’s going to be okay. We can get through this.”
“I know. I’ll be fine,” I said, lying so easily.
Knowing that it might be quite some time before we would have the chance again, we finally rediscovered the mood and made love one last time. It was soft and sweet, the perfect way to say goodbye. Our bodies stayed pressed tight together for the rest of the night. I finally found rest, listening to the beat of his broken heart, because mine was playing the same tune.
The break of dawn illuminated the path as I drove Harley to the base. His head leaned against the passenger window, his eyes fixed on nothing particular as signs and trees whizzed by. I could tell he was torn between staying with me and doing the right thing, even though there was no choice to be made.
Almost in slow motion, we unloaded his things from the car and embraced, surrounded by the other military men and women who bid their own farewells to their loved ones.
The pain in my chest was unbearable. I tried to swallow the lump that had formed at the back of my throat as the last few servicemen had boarded.
Harley brushed a half-bent
finger along my cheek. “Remember the sign, sweetheart. I’ll always be with you.”
His voice was soft and empathetic, as he placed tiny kisses upon my hand. The plane engine roared a signal that takeoff was imminent. He pulled me to him and covered my mouth with his, and time stood still. Our tongues entwined as our wet lips slid across one another at a fierce, desperate pace. I’m not sure if either of us even breathed for the duration of that kiss. We shared a long, final embrace and then he joined his comrades.
I waited until the plane was but a dot in the sky to release my pain. Hot, stinging tears drenched my cheeks and became waterfalls within seconds. The other military spouses around me inquired if I needed anything. When I declined, they offered a supportive hand on my shoulder and gathered their children to head back home to continue living life the only way they knew how. Alone.
It took a few minutes to compose myself. I sat in the car, unable to move, unsure of what to do next. All of my actions and decisions had been guided by the strong and loving presence of Harley for the past year. Not that he was controlling, I just preferred to be with him more than anyone. He was gone … and I was lost. The ache in my chest was so violent I thought my lungs were going to explode.
At last, I wiped my warm face with my hands and turned the key to drive home, the home I was supposed to share with my husband.
* * * * * * * * *
If only I had known that would be our last moment together. I would have kissed him longer. I would have never let him go.
I remember coming back to this house and not wanting to face my first night alone, so I invited Gretchen and Chelsea to sleep over that night. We hadn’t spent any time together since I’d returned from my honeymoon, and I figured some girl time would be good for me.
Our evening began with me giving them the tour of the house.
* * * * * * * * *
“Wow, it turned out really nice, Jules! The colors he chose are gorgeous,” Chelsea said.
“Right, like you two didn’t have a huge hand in this.” I squinted at both of them.
“Well, we did move in some of your stuff from your old apartment and set up while you two were on your honeymoon, but Harley was adamant about choosing the colors and décor for the house. He was quite involved in the whole process,” Gretchen said.
“Yeah, you got a good one there, Jules.” Chelsea added, with an envious smile.
I spun my engagement ring around to line up the diamonds with the wedding band. Yes I do, I thought to myself.
I hugged them both and said, “Thanks, girls. You two are the best. I appreciate everything you did at the wedding and helping make my new home so perfect, even if I never said it.”
“We love you, Jules,” Chelsea replied. She brushed a bleached blonde curl from her flawless, made-up face.
“Yeah, we’re happy for you and Harley,” Gretchen added.
“I’m starved. How about Chinese?” Chelsea offered.
“Sounds good. I’ll put on a movie,” I replied.
I ordered “The Fault in Our Stars’’ on my DVR and we all made preparations to settle in for a few hours.
Chelsea removed her hot pink Dolce & Gabbana pumps and set them to the side of the couch. Then her five-foot-nine Barbie frame with flawless blonde locks disappeared into the downstairs guest room to change out of her business attire.
Gretchen released her reddish-brown bun and ran her fingers through her hair as her just-shy-of-five-foot frame carried her to the bathroom to change.
Once we were all in our PJs, we noshed on eggrolls and wine, and laughed and cried throughout the movie. It didn’t take long for me to regret having chosen a sappy love story because I was missing Harley more than ever by that point.
Afterward, we stayed up a little longer and talked, mostly about our college days.
“Yeah, Jules, you’ve got a good man with that Harley.” Her words were slurred due to the massive amounts of wine we’d consumed by then. “You haven’t always been lucky in the man department.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, letting out a giggle. The alcohol had reached me, too.
“Do you remember that guy you dated our junior year?” Chelsea asked. “What was his name? Scott, Todd, something like that.” She snapped her thumb and finger together, as if that would trigger the correct name.
“His name was Tadd, thank you very much,” I replied. “Why, what was wrong with Tadd?”
Both girls burst into boisterous laughter.
“Remember he wrote you that love song and sang it to you outside our dorm window that night?”
“Yeah. What about it? I thought it was sweet,” I replied.
“Disgustingly sweet. That’s what drove you crazy about him, remember?” Gretchen said. “How did that song go again?”
I shared the song with my friends.
Jewel, my Jewel
I’d be such a fool
If I ever let you go
I’d die, I just know.
“Now that I’ve recited it out loud, I see what you mean. That was pretty bad.” I joined them in laughter.
“I don’t think I’ve ever dated a guy who could sing in key,” I said. “Good thing they have other talents.”
Laughter erupted in the room when I said that. We were all pretty wasted by that point. Merlot bottles and empty margarita glasses lined the coffee table, anesthetic concoctions to numb the ache in my heart, even if only for a little while.
Our night ended with all three of us passed out on the floor. It was a perfect way to spend my first night without Harley, but deep down, I knew it was a temporary fix.
We all got up around noon and enjoyed a light lunch together at my favorite local restaurant, Bistro on the Bay. When it was over, we hugged, promised to get together soon, and parted ways.
Sooner than I’d hoped, I was back at home, alone once again. It was thoughtful of Harley to have all our stuff moved in and set up, but at that moment, I had nothing to do but sit and wait out the loneliness. At least if I had something to decorate, clean, or unpack, I would have been able to keep my hands busy. Instead, I opted to focus on occupying my mind with writing.
The waves mocked me rather than brought me peace in that moment. I sat and wrote the only words that came to my mind, a letter to my love.
Dearest Harley,
It’s been less than twenty-four hours since we left each other’s arms, and yet it feels like an eternity. I thought I would be stronger than this, and be able to face being alone, but already the vast emptiness is consuming me. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to breathe without you next to me. I invited the girls over to help me get through the night. Funny, I used to look forward to hanging out with them every spare moment I had, but this time wasn’t the same. It was fun, but I found myself wishing you were here with me instead. I realized that you have become my new best friend. You are now a part of me that I can’t live without, and don’t want to live without. I will be counting every second until you come back to me, but I will try to stay strong for you. I love you, and we will always be unsevered.
Your wife,
Jewel
I couldn’t send it. First, I had no address to send it to. Second, I wanted to be strong for him. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty for choosing an admirable profession like serving his country. I folded the paper and slid it into an envelope. Then I placed it in my underwear drawer and turned out the light to face my first night alone in our bed, which seemed to extend for miles since he was no longer there to fill the space beside me.
Each night was a repeat of the one before. I stayed up as late as possible writing or watching television. Now that my friends had returned to their own lives, my characters were the only ones I could talk to. Once I reached the point of exhaustion, my feet shuffled up the stairs in hopes of a good night’s sleep; but my dreams had other plans. They were always the same:
Harley is walking up the front steps. He’s home! I rush out to meet him and just before we tou
ch, a bomb is dropped in between us and he is blown away.
I jolted awake after the explosion. My breath was rapid and heavy and my sheets were soaked in sweat. I pushed my hair back and wiped my face. I grabbed his picture from the bedside table and kissed it, offering a silent prayer once again. Then I placed it back in position and attempted to finish the night.
For the next few hours, the waves mirrored my movements as they tumbled with lack of direction in the sea. I bolted upright again and looked around, awakened by what sounded like a thump at the door. I grabbed my flashlight and Beretta from the night stand drawer, and then took a careful stroll around the house to ensure all was in place. (Thankfully, Harley took me shooting a few times before we married to make sure I knew how to protect myself while he was away.) My heart pounded at such a fierce volume that I worried it would be a dead giveaway, no pun intended. I tiptoed through the house, checking every corner and closet, my hand trigger-ready. Nothing seemed amiss.
I expelled a heavy sigh of relief and returned the gun to its safe place. Then I walked back downstairs and drank some warm milk. My eyes continued to survey the house with each step I took.
Confident my home had been disturbed by nothing more than my own imagination, I returned to bed. My slumber remained as restless as the sea night after night, until that dreadful day came and confirmed that my nightmares had become my reality.
* * * * * * * * *
At first I didn’t pay much attention to the black car parked behind the men in uniform who stood before me. They were accompanied by a chaplain and what appeared to be a paramedic, though at first I wasn’t exactly sure why either of those individuals was necessary. It didn’t take long to find out.
“Hello, Mrs. Decker. We apologize for waking you, ma’am, but we need to speak with you for a moment. May we step inside?”
“Of course, but I’m fine here on the porch. We can talk here.”
The melancholic tone in his voice declared that something was wrong right away. My legs disappeared from under me and two of them lowered me to the rocking chair. The lead officer returned to an upright position, forced a stoic expression on his face, and continued with his military spiel.
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