Military Romance Collection

by E Cleveland

  “Sorry, kiddo. I’ve gotta run. Maybe if these two lovebirds had shown up a bit earlier, I would’ve had more time.” Chelsea looks at her watch and then at Lauren with a cocked eyebrow and a twinkle in her eye.

  “Sorry, we took the long way home,” Lauren smirks. “Where are you in such a rush to get to? You gotta hot date or something?” Lauren tugs my hand and we sit down on the couch together.

  “Yeah, scorching hot date,” Chelsea’s voice is flat. “I got called into work, pretty exciting huh? We can’t all have elaborate proposals, I guess.” Her eyes flicker down over her sister’s ring finger where my diamond ring sparkles bright against Lauren’s almond hand.

  “Are you guys engaged?” Chris interrupts, putting down his controller. “Like for real this time? You’re gonna get married?” He stands up and looks at the ring, the huge smile he met us at the door with was a tiny smirk compared to his face now.

  “That’s right,” Lauren’s eyes shine as she looks at him.

  “Really? That’s great!” He hops from foot to foot and I can’t help but laugh.

  “I’m glad you’re happy about it, man.” I chime in.

  Chris’s grin fades slowly, and his eyes flicker over me quickly and then dart back to his mother. “Wait, so does this mean that Mack’s gonna be my father now?”

  Everyone looks over at Lauren. Chris watches her attentively, my eyes glue to her face nervously, and Chelsea is practically boring holes in her face.

  “I should, uh, I need to get to work. I’ll see ya around, ok?” Chelsea interrupts, rubbing her hand affectionately over her nephew’s hair.

  Chris shrugs her off, but isn’t too cool to give her a quick hug. Those days are numbered. It won’t be long before Chris will cut us all off from his affection. Then all of his attention. If he’s half the asshole I was in my teen years, we’re in for a real treat.

  Chelsea shoots one last look at Lauren before disappearing through the door. She should drag her judgy eyebrows back down over her eyes though, she doesn’t know that Lauren and I already discussed talking to Chris about this. We just thought it would come up on our terms. When the timing was right. No time like the present, I guess.

  “Bye, Chelsea.” Lauren calls out to her sister as the door shuts behind her.

  Chris’s eyes are still searching for an explanation on his mother’s face. I run my finger and thumb along the edge of my hand, he doesn’t look thrilled at the idea of me being his Dad. I can’t help but wonder… is this a mistake? Is Lauren about to spill the beans on something that Chris is still too young to really grasp?

  “Come over here,” Lauren pats the couch and I scooch over to make some room so he can sit between us. Chris plops down on the sofa with all the grace of a belly flopping pig. “I figured you might have some questions about all of this, ok?” Her eyes trace the edges of his face before flickering over to mine. I can see that she’s nervous, but I know nerves aren’t about to stop her. “Before we get into all of that, well, just wait a sec, ok? There’s something I need to grab,” Lauren hops to her feet and vanishes from the room, leaving me and my son together in a fog of confusion.

  Maybe her nerves are going to stop her.

  I rub my hand over the back of my neck and look over at Chris. I can’t help but smile when I see him mirroring the same action back to me. Yep, he’s mine all right. Right down to our nervous tics.

  “Hey, so are you still ok with your mother and I getting married? It’s ok if you need some time to think it over.” I finally cut through the silence.

  “What? No, I mean, of course it’s ok. I’m glad you two are getting married. I just don’t know, like, are you my Dad now? Is that what I call you? I mean, I just don’t know…” our eyes both follow Lauren as she walks back into the room carrying a book under her arm.

  “Ok, I found it,” she beams proudly. “I wanted to show you this,” she sits back down beside Chris and puts her yearbook on his lap. “You know how Mack and I went to a prom type dance yesterday?”

  “Yeah,” Chris answers slowly, looking down at the retro in all the wrong ways book in his lap.

  “Well, when I was in grade twelve, Mack took me to my original prom too,” she cracks the cover on the book and quickly flicks the pages past the signatures and orders from old friends to “never change!” to a picture that makes my heart ache.

  There we are, front and center on the page. I’ve got two full legs and no tattoos, not to mention wrinkles or gray hairs. In the picture, my arms are wrapped around Lauren and she’s looking up at me with a love so pure it makes me hate myself for ever walking away from it.

  Damn. She hasn’t changed a bit! Her skin still glows like she’s got her own professional photographer following her around with lighting, her smile still makes honey seem sour in comparison. She was perfect then. She’s perfect now. She’ll be perfect until the day we die.

  “Mack took you to the prom?” Chris finally looks up from the picture and over to his mother.

  “He did,” she flips the page to reveal more photographic evidence for him. “We were high school sweethearts. boyfriend and girlfriend. Before that, we were friends since we were six years old.” Her eyes glaze over as the nostalgia washes over her.

  “I thought you met him at the hospital? You guys grew up together? That’s crazy!” Chris sounds awestruck. Better than angry.

  “I hadn’t seen Mack since prom night. I did meet him again at the hospital,” she explains. As he listens, Chris flips through the book. Each page has new photographs revealing the truth about our history.

  “Why didn’t you see each other after the prom?” He looks over at me accusingly. I deserve that look. My gut twinges with guilt as I answer to the son I never realized we made that night.

  “As soon as we graduated, I went to West Point and joined the military. I had to go to New York for four years for school and then I did courses here and there. I never made it back here until now.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you about our first prom though, Chris,” Lauren looks at him. “That night, Mack and I made a baby together.” She looks at him unblinking. Is she breathing? Am I? The room is a vacuum of silence. I swear I can hear the thoughts swirling around in his brain.

  “You made a baby?” The words tumble from his mouth slowly, like he’s making sense of each one as he speaks it. “I…wait, I have a brother? Or a sister? Or…are they like a half-brother or half-sister?” He stares down at the book on his lap, like it’s going to reveal the identity of the mystery sibling he doesn’t have.

  “No,” Lauren interrupts. “You don’t have any brothers or sisters, ok? You know that Joel adopted you when you were three, we talked about that, right?”

  I watch as the realization strikes through his body like a lightening bolt. Chris sits straighter on the couch, throwing his shoulders back and stiffening. “Me?”

  “That’s right,” I reassure him. I can’t tell from the flurry of emotions on his face how he’s feeling about this. It’s like watching the penny slots in Vegas swirl around as you wait for it to land on three cherries, or a total bust.

  “So, you’re my Dad? Like, my real Dad?” His voice is barely hovering above a whisper and he doesn’t look straight at me.

  “Joel was your real Dad. I’m your biological father. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be considered your real Dad too one day, but I haven’t earned the title yet. If you’re up for it, I’d like to try.” I explain.

  “I, uh, that would be great.” He smiles, but I can see worry in his eyes as he furrows his brows. “So, did Dad know about Mack?” He asks Lauren. “And how come you never called me or anything before?” He looks back at me.

  “Joel knew everything; I promise you that. He knew Mack in high school, we all graduated the same year. It was no secret to him that I had you with Mack.” Lauren runs her hand over Chris’s arm, but he tugs it away.

  “Just a secret to me?” He pouts.

  “I was always going to te
ll you, whether Mack and I met again or not. I just wanted to wait until you were old enough.” She answers.

  Satisfied with his mother’s answer, his eyes snap back to me. Waiting. Searching. I clear my throat nervously.

  “I didn’t call because your mother and I weren’t together anymore, and I was in the military. I knew I could never be in your life in a stable, meaningful way, like Joel was. I might have been wrong, but I didn’t want to add confusion to your life or take away from your father in any way. I hope you can forgive me. I know I can’t make up for the past, but I hope you’ll let me try to make new memories now.” The last thing I’m going to do is throw Lauren under the bus and put all this on her. She’s already dealt with so much. I’m not going to add her son feeling betrayed to the mix.

  Chris looks back at the book in his lap. He studies the smiling faces of people he never met alongside pictures of us. Again, that silence. That noiseless void that roars in my ears louder than a jet plane engine. Finally, he picks up the book in his hands and pops off the couch to his feet.

  Is he going to go to his room? I wouldn’t blame him if he needed some time to process all this. It was a lot for me to take in as a grown man. I can’t imagine how much harder it would be for a nine-year-old. He turns and looks down at me, his face as solemn as any Texas hold ‘em champ I’ve ever met. “Mack?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need you to come with me, please.”

  I don’t question where or why. In my gut, I already know. I jump to my feet ready to follow. “You got it, Chris. Let’s go.”

  Chris and I walk side-by-side wordlessly. I know where we’re going. I’ve walked this road before. Literally. It’s funny how during the day, with the sun shining, this path feels so different. Of course, not frantically looking for a run away child might have something to do with it too.

  The gate is only a few yards away now, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention. Dread washes over me with every step we put between us and the entrance. It’s not because we told Chris about me being his biological father. It’s because the last time I was at Joel’s gravesite, I had a flashback that left me weak in the knees and my skin crawling.

  As we approach the open entrance to the cemetery, I stop in my tracks. Deep breath. Ground yourself. I remember what I’ve been going over in therapy now for weeks. I need something to keep me in the present. Something physical.

  “Hey, Chris! Wait up,” he hasn’t slowed his pace, still marching forward to Joel’s plot. He stops and turns toward me. Under his arm is the yearbook he left the house with.

  “Yeah?” His face is a melting pot of emotions. It kills me to see him straining so hard to contain it all. I’m the last guy who should be giving advice on how to deal with feelings though.

  “Um, are you going to need that book?” His eyes cloud with bewilderment. “The yearbook? In your hand?” Chris looks down to his hand like it’s a foreign object attached to his body. Recognition flashes over his face as he seems to remember that he’s carrying it.

  “No, I don’t need it. You want it?” He holds it out to me.

  “Yeah, thanks.” My fingers grasp the cool, hard edge of the yearbook. I’ll use it to ground me. To keep my mind in the present. Nothing like a musty book of memories to keep you focussed on the now.

  Chris looks at me closely, “I need to talk to Dad. You know? About all this. With you.” He finally explains himself.

  “I know,” I nod in agreement. I understand completely.

  He nods back at me, hopefully he can see that I’m here to support him. That I’m ready to listen to whatever he needs to say. Chris turns back and leads me to Joel’s burial site. It’s easier to navigate in the day. We stop at the foot of Joel’s grave and I grab onto the book in my hand until it hurts. I will stay in the present. I will hear what my son has to say. I will not let my mind slide back.

  “Hey, Dad,” Chris’s voice wavers with emotion. I gently lay my hand on his shoulder, and surprisingly, he doesn’t shrug it off. Instead, he takes a deep, steadying breath and stands taller. “I’m here with Mack again. I guess you already know him though, better than I do probably.”

  I wince as the words slap my face. Joel and I were never close, not that it matters. What matters is that my son feels like a man I haven’t seen in over a decade could know me more than he does.

  “Mom just told me about everything. Her and Mack are going to get married now, and I’m ok with that, you know. I remember how when I was four or five and you told me that you adopted me. You made me feel so special,” his voice cracks and he leans his head down to his heaving chest. Fat tear drops drip from the end of Chris’s nose to the grass below.

  “I remember you told me that you were so lucky,” he continues, “to have found a better son than you ever imagined you would have. I remember how I felt taller than all the other boys at the playground that day, because I had a Dad that chose me, you know? And you couldn’t ask for more than that.”

  My throat feels like I swallowed a rock, my emotions are barely under the surface. I clutch the yearbook in my one hand and give Chris’s shoulder a squeeze with the other. My fears about returning to the war, or having a flashback of anyone else’s grave start to disappear. I am present. I am here. I don’t need a reminder. My mind is focussed on one thing: Chris.

  “So, I just found out that Mack is my biological Dad and all that. It’s weird, you know? I saw him on tv when he came back, and I never knew. It doesn’t feel totally real yet. But, I wanted to tell him, in front of you that I’m lucky. Mack made me, but you raised me. And I couldn’t be luckier than to have two fathers better than I ever could’ve imagined who both love me and want to be in my life.”

  Chris takes a shaky breath in deep and looks over at me with his red-rimmed eyes. “Dad chose me to be his son,” his voice wavers, “and now I’m gonna choose for you to be my new Dad.”

  I drop my arm from his shoulder and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Thank you.”

  “It doesn’t mean he won’t be my Dad anymore,” Chris nods toward Joel’s headstone.

  “Of course not. I would never try to take his place.”

  Chris throws his arms around me and squeezes me tight. Tears line my bottom lids and the world around me blurs. “Thanks…Dad.”

  “Hey, man. Are you feeling ok? You’re looking a little pale. You’re not getting cold feet are you?” Cameron quickly darts his eyes down to my prosthetic and looks back up at me sheepishly, “sorry, it’s just an expression.”

  “No my foot isn’t cold,” I laugh and shrug it off. I don’t know why after all this time he’s still worried that I’m gonna get all sensitive about my leg. It’s been two and a half years now; I barely even think about stuff like that anymore.

  I look out from the open door of the cabana the hotel has reserved for the men. I shield my eyes with my hand as they adjust to the startling contrast of the turquoise water slowly licking at the stark white sand. Reminds me of my plans for Lauren tonight.

  “I think I’ve just had too many drinks with umbrellas in them. Or maybe I’m a bit nervous,” I admit. Tying the knot isn’t making me nervous. I’m not afraid to commit to Lauren. Hell, I’ve known I’d make her my wife since we were six-years-old. I just want this day to be everything she’s been dreaming of. She deserves the fairy tale. I ain’t no prince, but I’m gonna do everything I can to make her happy.

  Cameron nods and follows my gaze across the beach. “I’ll tell ya, you guys are doing this right, if you ask me. Just a small wedding, nice beach, nice hotel. That’s the way to go. If I ever get hitched, I’m gonna try to get eloped in Vegas or something. Those huge weddings are just a waste.”

  When I first asked Lauren if we could have a low-key wedding, I didn’t think she’d really go for it. After all the interviews and watching my face on the news non-stop, the last thing I wanted was another big event. She not only agreed though, she seemed relieved. It all sounded perfect.
Then she brought up the destination wedding thing. In the Bahamas. On a beach. In the sand.

  Fucking sand.

  I didn’t love the idea of being surrounded by gritty, dusty dirt again. However, there’s no way I was going to crush her dream wedding. Love makes you do all kinds of things. I decided to suck it up and keep my complaints to myself. Seeing how happy it’s made her has been worth it.

  “Yeah, I’m happy we went this way. We wanted something a little more private. Just close friends and family, you know. You’re just lucky you made the short list,” I clap my hand against his shoulder with a smile.

  “Ha! It wouldn’t be a party without me,” he smirks back.

  “Or me!” Chris pipes in, finally tearing himself away from his reflection to join in. He’s ten-years-old going on eighteen with all his primping lately. I’m pretty sure our entire wedding album is just going to be selfies of Chris from how many poses he’s been doing for the camera. I’m not sure who he’s trying to impress, but if the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree, there’s probably more than one he’s got his eye on.

  “You’re right, it wouldn’t be a wedding without my best man,” I smile at my son and he puffs his chest out proudly.

  “Ok, I should get moving,” Cameron interrupts. “The maid of honor needs a handsome man to escort her down the aisle.”

  “Do you know one?” I chuck shit at him. He gives me a quick look but keeps heading out the door. It’s probably time for Chris and I to take our places too.

  As if on cue, one of the hotel staff pops his head in the door “the guests are seated, if you want to take your places?”

  “Sure,” I answer. “You ready?” I turn to Chris. He looks like he was born ready for this moment. Him and Cameron look great in their white dress shirts and beige pants. I’ve got the same thing going on, but I also have a linen jacket to step it up a notch. Lauren and I decided to keep things casual and light for our beach wedding. I have a feeling she’s gonna look anything but casual when she walks down that aisle.