Military Romance Collection

by E Cleveland

  “Have you made any friends yet? Are the neighbors nice?” Dad mops up the last of the sauce on his plate with a homemade bun as he continues to carry the conversation.

  “No, I haven’t really made any friends yet, but everyone seems nice enough,” I answer.

  “Are you going to get a job, or just keep sponging off Jake?” My mother’s tone is an Arctic blast despite the early summer Florida heat.

  “Beverly,” my father hisses.

  “It’s all right, Dad.” I wave away his instinct to jump in. “I haven’t been looking for a job yet, I’m actually thinking of finishing off my schooling. I think I’d like to go to college too,” I force a smile across my face and my mother doesn’t bat an eye. Not a single muscle twitches in her face as she stares me down across the table.

  “College! That’s wonderful, honey!” My father exclaims, clapping his hands together loudly. “What for?”

  “I think I’d like to look into working with animals. I don’t think I could be a vet, but maybe a veterinary assistant. I don’t know, I’m still figuring it all out, to be honest.” I look down at my empty plate. I helped myself to a second serving of Mom’s home cooking.

  It’s funny, she’s been nothing but an ice queen to me since I walked in the door. I tried to give her a hug earlier and I’m pretty sure I have frostbite on my arms now. Yet, the Ice Queen still went out of her way to make my favorite meal. Veggie lasagna with smoked Gouda cheese on top. Between my mother’s sub-zero welcome and the meal, I couldn’t help but remember a simpler time in our family. Back when my sister and I used to play outside on January afternoons and come home to this very meal.

  Simpler times indeed.

  Mom stands up from the table and begins clearing the empty plates from my father and me. “Here, let me help you with that,” I offer, sliding my chair back and hopping to my feet.

  “I don’t need any help, I’m used to clearing the table myself.” She shuts me down and grabs her stack of dishes like they’re a precious jewel I’m trying to pluck from her hands.

  I ignore her and pick up the glasses and cutlery, following her into the kitchen close on her heels. Mom leans over the kitchen sink as the hot water pours into it from the tap and she sighs deeply. I slide the glasses and silverware onto the counter next to her and her head snaps up like an angry jack-in-the-box.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m helping you clear the table, why? What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is that I told you to leave it alone!” She yells, her face flushing red.

  “Whatever, why did you even ask me to come visit you guys. You obviously don’t want me here. It was a mistake to come back,” the forks and knives clink loudly as I drop them down next to her.

  “Yeah, maybe it was a mistake,” her words knock my head back with the invisible punch they carry.

  “Beverly! What are you doing?” My father stands in the doorway, his voice booming through the room.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to just act like everything is fixed because she’s decided to grace us with her presence for a night. It still doesn’t make up for any of it.” She looks from my father to me, leveling me with her glare, “It still doesn’t fix what you did!” She points her finger at me like she’s trying to stab me in the heart. That would probably hurt less than this.

  “I never should have come here,” I can’t stand to look at her face, twisted up with rage and disgust. I turn around and cross the kitchen floor, pushing past my dad in the doorway.

  Hot tears splash over my burning cheeks as I blindly make my way through the house. I don’t bother listening to the argument they’re having, to the actual words attached to the growing noise coming from them. Instead, I grab my coat, slip on my shoes and walk out the front door.

  I don’t know where I’m going to go. I don’t care. I just need to get out of there. She hates me. My own mother hates me.

  And I can’t even blame her.

  35

  Holly

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been walking the empty streets of my small town. Nothing here seems to have changed one bit. It’s not even nine o’clock and this place makes a funeral parlor look like a hip hot spot.

  Nothing has changed, I remind myself. My family is still as fucked up as before I ever left for Miami. It’s like we’ve all taken our pain and locked it into a time capsule, preserving every detail as fresh as the day we buried it.

  I look up and come to a full stop as I realize where my feet have taken me. I’ve been in such a fog of memories and emotions that I haven’t even been paying attention to where I was going. My heart must have guided the way. Fresh tears fill my eyes as I look at the train bridge where my sister died.

  I’ve never come back here. I just couldn’t do it; the memories were already too much to live with. I’m not sure if it’s courage or stupidity that propels me forward now, but either way, I can’t seem to stop my feet from closing the distance between me and the bridge.

  For the first time since that night, I walk to the edge of the bank and look down to the water below that took Heather’s life. I struggle to breathe as the details from that night crash over me like a tidal wave.

  “Did you come here to freak everyone out, or what?” I demanded. Heather was sitting off to the side, watching us like Jane Goodall researching a bunch of chimps instead of being a normal teenager at a party.

  “I’m not freaking anyone out,” she stuck out her chin, but her eyes darted around at the crowd of underage drinkers behind me, searching for proof of my words.

  “Yes, you are,” I took a huge gulp of the ridiculously strong rum and coke in my red Solo cup, and thrust another one, that was just as terribly mixed, under her nose. “You’re at a party, have some fun for once. Don’t just sit here like a plant. There are cute guys here tonight, let’s have some fun!” I pushed her.

  “It’s just not my thing,” she grasped the cup in her hand and wrinkled her nose at the smell.

  “Yeah, and how’s ‘your thing’ working out for you? God, you’ve got no friends, no boyfriend, and you’re bringing everyone down here. Why don’t you try a different thing for once? I know, you can do ‘my thing’ for tonight and go have some fun for once in your life,” I egged her on.

  “Oh, what’s that? Get drunk and make out with every guy here? No thanks,” she snarked.

  “Yeah! Exactly! Have some fun! Be young! Stop acting like you’re ninety-two. God, we’re sixteen and our parents are out of town for the weekend. Get crazy! Let your hair down for once.” I finished the nasty drink in my cup.

  “I wouldn’t know what to do anyway,” Heather shrugged, giving up. But, I wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Why didn’t I just leave her alone?

  “Ok, step one: drink up. Step two: get off your ass and have some fun. There you go, there’s your insider tips on how to be a normal teenager for once. Come on, we’re going to go climb on the guardrails under the bridge and smoke a joint, just come with us.” I held out my hand to help her off the ground.

  “Nah, I’ll just wait for you here,” she looked down at the ground.

  “No! No way! It’s time to stop acting like such an old granny. Listen, I dare you, I double-dog, twin dare you to get up and come with us. Come on, what’s the worst that could happen? You could have some fun? You know you gotta now, it’s a dare. You can’t turn down a double-dog, twin dare. There’s like a law or something,” I joked.

  The pressure was too much. Heather shrugged, gulped back her entire drink, and she never drank, then hopped to her feet. I should’ve known that the liquor would hit her hard. I should’ve let her sit and watch the party in peace. Instead, I bullied her into doing what I wanted.

  I’m not sure how much more booze she drank, but I knew she was tipsy when I watched her kiss Josh Rexton on the lips. Heather was a shy girl, so quiet and so camouflaged into the background that a lot of people didn’t even realize I had a twin. Kissing a high sc
hool senior wasn’t her style. Nothing about that night was her style.

  I shouldn’t have let her climb out there first. She was feeling the booze and acting crazy. I told her to wait, but she jumped up on the metal guardrail and started shuffling her feet as she gripped hand-over-hand out toward the middle of the bridge. It was hard to see much more than her silhouette, but I could still hear her.

  “There ya go!” She yelled back at me. “Double-dog twin dare accomplished,” she leaned back and everyone started yelling on the shore.

  “Hey, be careful!” I cried in alarm.

  I could only see her dark outline as she lost her grip. Her screams penetrated the air and then nothing after the splash.

  “Heather!” I shrieked, running down to the bank. “Heather, oh shit! Someone has to save her. I’m going in. Heather!” I screamed so loud my throat burned.

  I don’t remember who held me back. I just remember the strong arms circling my waist. “You’ll get swept away by the current, you can’t jump in.”

  I remember I fought with all of my strength to be freed.

  They didn’t find her body until the next day.

  Tears stream down my face, soaking my shirt. “I’m sorry, Heather,” I whisper to the water. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I thought I would find you here.”

  My heart leaps in my chest as I whirl around on my heel. “Mom?”

  “Yeah, I figured you might come down here. I come here when I get upset too.” She looks past me at the water that stole her child’s life and guilt consumes me.

  Neither of us move. We’re statues under the starry sky. The only noise in the air is the water flowing below.

  Mom wipes the back of her hand over her face and I realize she’s been crying too. “Listen, Holly, about tonight,” she begins but I can’t bring myself to hear her say it. I hold up my hands, willing her to stop before she can tell me what I already know.

  “I know, you hate me,” I interrupt.

  “What?”

  “It’s obvious. I don’t blame you. I know you never forgave me for Heather’s death. I dared her to cross the bridge that night. It’s my fault she died. I understand why you can’t forgive that.” The words tumble from my mouth, spilling like blood from a cut artery.

  “You think I hate you? That I blame you?” She shakes her head slowly like she’s translating the words from a different language.

  “Please, let’s not do this. Like you said, it was a mistake for me to come here. Let’s just go back to the house and I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning,” I promise her.

  “Woah, stop right there, young lady,” her sharp tone makes my muscles freeze as my feet root to the spot. “You think that all this time I’ve been angry with you about some stupid dare you and your sister made? That I thought you were to blame for a dumb accident?”

  I blink like I’m trying to communicate in Morse code. Of course that’s what I thought. It’s what I still think.

  “You listen to me,” Mom grabs my shoulders and shakes me, “I never hated you. I never blamed you for anything to do with Heather’s death. Never,” she emphasizes the word. “You broke my heart, Holly.” She lets go of my arms and looks down at the ground, “You shattered it. Not because of your sister, because of you. I was already grieving for her when you took off. You didn’t call. I didn’t know where you were. For five years, I had no idea if you were even alive. Five years,” her voice cracks and fat tears fall to her cheeks. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

  I don’t. I stare down at my feet, trying for the first time to put myself in my mother’s place. I was always so wrapped up in my own guilt and self-loathing that it never occurred to me that she still loved me. “No.” I finally whisper.

  “I felt like I didn’t just lose one daughter that night, but both of my little girls. I felt like you died right along with her. You disappeared for five years, then you showed up on our doorstep like nothing happened. I barely had time to adjust to the idea that you were still alive and you were off to Canada for rehab. Then, we go all the way up there to find out that you were taking off again. That you weren’t coming back into my life. It didn’t even seem like it was something you wanted. Just ‘poof’ gone again.”

  My heart hurts as I realize the pain I’ve caused my mother. I was so wrapped up in my own suffering to see what I had put her through. All this time, I was convinced that she hated me… so much wasted time that I can never get back.

  I cover my face with my hands and struggle to breathe as I sob. My shoulders shake and my nose runs all over the place as the tears burst out from the dam I’ve built up inside. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.” I repeat over and over.

  My mother steps toward me and wraps her arms around me as I bawl against her shoulder like I did when I was a little girl with scraped knees and a banged up Barbie bike. “Shhh, it’s ok, baby. It’s ok,” her voice chokes up as she rocks me back and forth. “I love you so much, Holly. I love you, hun.” She soothes me.

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  36

  Jake

  I glance around the nearly empty pub, then back to my brother’s face. “This isn’t much of a bachelor party, Cameron. You sure you don’t want us to take you out to Miami Beach or something?” This place is dead. Of course, it doesn’t help that it’s only nine at night. Before rehab, nine was when I’d go grab a shower to start getting ready to go out. Most of the time, I didn’t even hit the clubs until after eleven, usually finding my way home, with at least one random girl on my arm as the sun came up.

  “Nah, the guys on the team took me out for a wild night last week. Bottle service, models hanging at our table, the whole nine. I just wasn’t feeling it, you know? It’s just not who I am anymore, I guess I’ve settled down in my old age,” Cameron smiles and takes a long sip of his beer.

  I get that. Thinking back to how I used to live feels like watching a movie of someone else’s life now. A train wreck of a movie at that. Partying all the time used to be my escape. My attempt to add a little color to the gray swamp I was sinking into. The thing is, you can dress up your ugly truth however you want, but it doesn’t change it. You can put a turd on the most delicious, home-baked bread and throw a million pictures of it up on Instagram with the best filters, but it’s still a shit sandwich.

  Holly and rehab helped me see that I needed to change what was going on inside to really enjoy anything life had to offer. I know I’ve still got work to do, but now that I’ve had a taste of what a fulfilling life can feel like, I won’t be going back to turds on rye anytime soon.

  “Doesn’t mean you’re old, and you sure as shit ain’t settled. Just means you’re in love,” Mack nods at Cameron. The two of them have been best friends since they served together in Afghanistan. My brother was a ground pounder over there and Mack was his officer. Years before that, they both graduated high school the same year, and now that they’re both retired from the service, their friendship has gone full circle.

  “Couldn’t agree with you more, brother,” Cameron smiles at his old friend. “I don’t want to go out to some club and get my dick grinded by a random chick. Not when I have perfection waiting for me at the altar tomorrow,” he takes another drink. “Besides, why would I want to go out on the town like some kind of frat boy when I’ve got my real brothers here? This is better than some wild night I’d probably regret.”

  I take a gulp of my Pepsi. Not rum and Pepsi. Not rye and Pepsi. Just regular soda and ice. It still feels weird to be at a bar without drinking. I’ll take ‘weird’ over the twisting knife of guilt slicing through my guts any day. I promised Holly I would stay sober, but more importantly, I promised myself.

  “I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow,” I shake my head. “It’s even crazier that you’re going to be a dad soon,” I smile. “When is Chelsea due again?”

  “Beginning of August. If it all works out right, we’ll be married before summer camp starts f
or me and the baby should be here before the season starts in the fall.”

  “Sounds like it was all meant to be. You’re having an amazing year, Cameron. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your draft,” I look down at the sturdy wooden table we’re all leaning on.

  “Don’t be. I’m proud of you too, man. You got your shit sorted out, dealt with it head on. Besides, you’re still my best man, right? That’s the main thing.”

  “True,” I sit up straighter, feeling less like a loser with my unmixed drink.

  “Yeah, just throwing it out there, but I got robbed, by the way,” Mack smirks at me.

  “What?”

  “I mean, I made him my best man at my wedding,” he jerks his thumb at my big brother, “but then when it’s his turn to get married he chooses you.” He jokes.

  “Well, we are related and all that,” I shrug.

  “Nepotism,” Mack laughs. “It’s supposed to be the best man for the job, not the best sibling,” he takes a drink of his beer.

  “He did,” I shoot back, “can’t help it if I’m so good I win both titles.”

  Mack laughs good naturedly and claps his hand on my shoulder, “You’re right, he did. I’m just fucking around.”

  “Well, it means a lot to me that you’re both going to be there. The world, actually.” Cameron leans in and looks at us earnestly.

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way, man.” I answer. Mack nods in agreement.

  Cameron clears his throat loudly and slides his chair back. “Ok, enough of that,” he let’s out a dry laugh. “I’ll go get us another round,” he throws his broad shoulders back and strolls over to the bar.

  Mack and I sit in silence for a moment, then he tilts his head and looks at me, “So how are things now that you’re back? You’ve been pretty quiet about returning to your unit.”

  I take a sharp breath, not prepared to let go of the secret that I’ve been holding onto. That I’m leaving the SEALs. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my decision or anything, it’s just that this is my brother’s night and I didn’t want to make it all about me.