Read Patriotic Duty Online

Authors: C.J. Pinard

Patriotic Duty (11 page)

His touches were sweet and
soft and he seemed to hold me a little bit tighter as we made love. He
whispered sweet compliments in my ear and I returned them. My swelling heart
that I had guarded so closely seemed to be ready to burst, and something told
me that feeling really wasn’t going to stop soon.

Around five p.m. he
showered and I drove him back to the barracks. This time I got out of the car,
not caring who saw, and kissed him goodbye, long, and wet, yet soft, my hand
clutching the camouflage hat he wore, not wanting to let it or him go.

He reached down and pulled
my hand up to his lips and kissed my fingers. He gently dropped my hand and
placed both palms over either side of my face and stared intently into my eyes.
“I love you, Cara.”

I swallowed hard as tears
leaked down my face and covered his hands. “I know. I’m going to miss you so
much,” I whispered as I leaned against his chest and squeezed him tight.

He turned and I watched
him walk into the building and could barely see through my tears as I climbed
into my car and drove home. I cursed myself for allowing this kind, beautiful,
perfect soldier boy to seep in through my skin and settle into my heart. That
wasn’t supposed to happen, and yet here I was... heartsick and breathless. Now,
I told myself, I had to live with the aftermath.

CHAPTER 14

 

As
the next few months crawled by, I began to go out more and try to get back to
the normal routine I’d had before Riley had crashed into my life and turned it upside
down. Miranda had never been crazy about Riley and was expecting me to return
things back to the way they’d been. She’d been casually dating
Jace
, the minor league baseball player, but he, too, was
not around much, as he was out of town for games a lot.


Hellooooo
,
Cara! Are you even paying attention to me?” Miranda’s voice and snapping
fingers in front of my face broke me out of my daze.

“Huh? What?” I said,
looking up into her annoyingly perfect face.

“Oh, my God, would you
stop thinking about that guy! He’s a total player, girl.”

I shook my head and
sighed. “Okay. So what were you saying?”

I looked around Cowboys
and the place was packed. After quite a few weekends spent by myself alone,
Miranda dragged me out of the house and made me go out with her. I was on my
second rum and Coke and my head was fuzzy. Riley had been gone three months
now, but he didn’t let me forget him. While the emails and texts weren’t daily,
I got a few per week from him, and through these I learned more about him than
I had while we’d been together. That’s one thing I’d discovered about him; he
was the strong, silent type, but if you got him talking on a subject he liked,
he would really let go. I also learned that he communicated his feelings better
on paper than in person. I wasn’t sure if that made me happy or cautious. A
little of both, I suppose – especially when he started using the L word more in
these communications. I still couldn’t bring myself to say it back. It made it
feel too real. It made him feel too real. I was supposed to forget about him
and move on.

His favorite football
team, the San Francisco 49ers, had made it into the playoffs and
were
looking good for the
Superbowl
and he
asked me to go to a sports store and get him the NFC West Champions ball cap
and hold on to it until we saw each other again. For some reason, this errand
made me happy, as I felt like I was helping in some small, lame way. I suppose
it made me feel as if we now had to meet when he got back, instead of just
talking about it, as he didn’t want me to mail it to him overseas. I don’t know
why, but I always had this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that he would
get back and not want to see me.
That he’d forget me or be
over me and ready to move on with someone who lived closer to home.
Someone prettier, younger, who didn’t have a
child…
The longer the list of insecurities became, the more I despised myself for even
having them. I was already in a pit of self-loathing for falling for him to
begin with, and here I was, pining over him, hoping he’d want to see me when he
got back.

I was so damn pathetic.
Pathetically whooped.

Every time I’d hear about
servicemen being killed in Afghanistan I would freeze and hold my breath and
pray it wasn’t him. I would spend a lot of my time at work searching the
Internet with his name to see if he was okay when it had been more than a week
since I’d heard from him. I told myself it was the only way I would hear
anything. After all, who would notify me? Nobody on his base or his family even
knew who I was. It would be up to me to discover it.

Then Riley would email or
text or call and I’d breathe a sigh of relief. How do military wives live like
this? How do they keep their sanity? There’s no way I could do this. I use to
think I was strong. I’m a strong single mother, I used to tell myself. I can do
this. But no, I’m not strong. I’m weak because I can’t handle not knowing if
Riley was okay or not. What if he was just wounded and sent home? Lost a limb
or was alive, but in a coma? These morbid thoughts would flit through my mind
and settle in my gut until I heard from him again. It was no way to live.

Miranda grabbed my arm and
pulled me to the dance floor when our favorite line dance came on. Still
buzzing from the rum and Coke, and sad from my thoughts and memories, I pushed
everything aside and plastered a smile on my face and decided to just dance. I
closed my eyes and kept smiling and danced and laughed when I almost tripped
over Miranda’s shoe and danced some more, trying to forget my melancholy. When we
exited the dance floor, we went back over to the bar and ordered two shots of
whiskey. I clinked mine with Miranda’s and we downed them, wincing.

“Hey,
blondies
.”

I whirled around to see a
very cute guy wearing a baseball cap and a fitted black V-neck T-shirt. His
low-riding jeans fit him nicely and he was looking at me over the rim of his
beer bottle. His friend was cute too, but not as cute as he was.

I raised an eyebrow at
him. “So if I’m
blondie
, can I call you ‘slim’?”

He laughed.
“No, definitely not.
Name’s Travis.”

“Hi,
Travis.
I’m Cara, and this is Miranda.”

He pointed to his buddy.
“This is Evan.”

I gave Evan a small wave.

Travis lightly took my
elbow and asked if I’d like to dance. I set my empty shot glass on the bar and
let him lead me to the dance floor by the hand.

Travis was tall – taller
than Riley and I was only about five-foot-five so I had to crane my neck to
talk to him. He hunched down a bit as we spoke and I noted that he had very
kind eyes, despite his macho exterior. He smelled absolutely delicious and I
began to wonder what his chest would feel like under my hands. I hadn’t had sex
in months, and I never thought I was the type of girl who would ever say, or
even think the words, “I haven’t had sex in months” and actually understand or
empathize with what they meant. Riley had been like a drug to me and I was
still in an everlasting withdrawal.

I had to get my mind off
of sex, so I kept my hands firmly looped around Travis’s neck and dutifully
answered the questions he asked. I also asked him questions. He was a college
senior at Cal State San Jose, getting his degree in architecture and design. I
tried to picture him in a suit and tie and it didn’t quite work, so I put that
thought away and just enjoyed being held by someone who was so cute and smelled
so heavenly. I peered over my shoulder and saw Miranda dancing with Evan, but
those two looked like they were about to kiss.

I suppose she and
Jace
must have some open thing going on because I’ve met
the guy, and trust me, there’s no way he’s keeping it in his pants while he’s
out on the road. I had no doubt he had groupies fawning all over him. He was
about six-foot-three with a short cropped blonde flattop and flirtatious,
aqua-colored eyes and a perpetual tan, and was very outgoing. (And apparently
fantastic in bed, which I had to hear all about all of the time). I didn’t
express my thoughts as to
Jace’s
roadie behavior to
Miranda,
though,
as I was sure she would eventually
figure it out herself.

Travis led me to a small
table where we sat and talked for a little bit. He was very gentlemanly and I
was surprised when he asked for my number and didn’t expect me to go home with
him. I reluctantly gave it to him, wondering what I was doing. I was
so
confused as to what I was supposed to be doing. Do I wait
for Riley, be the faithful girlfriend with the deployed boyfriend, or do I just
live my life and see what happened when he got back? It’s not like he was even
coming back to California.

I never really answered my
own question. I just never knew, and it wasn’t something I was willing to
define with Riley, especially when he was in an already stressful environment.
I felt the last thing he needed was for me to get all whiny and start darting
questions at him about where we stood when he had bigger things to worry about.
Like staying alive and keeping his fellow soldiers alive. Riley was only 24, he
had his whole life ahead of him, so I figured over the next six months, we
would figure things out and I should live my life, but not shut him out of it.

 

***

 

Travis called the
following Tuesday after our night at Cowboys. He wanted to take me out and I
reluctantly agreed. He took me to dinner at a popular steakhouse chain and it
was there I explained to him about Aiden and my divorce, I even told him a
little about Riley (only because he asked about my last relationship) but I
didn’t expound any further on it. My memories of Riley and our summer together
were my memories and I wasn’t ready to share them with anyone.

Travis was a perfect
gentleman the whole night. Sweet, polite, paid for dinner, opened my car door.
There was even a bit of attraction between us but no major sparks. He dropped
me off at home and kissed me lightly on the mouth. I wrapped my arms around his
neck and kissed him back harder, and he hungrily accepted, running his hands
down my sides and around to my ass. I groaned a little. He felt so good and it
had been so long…

He slid his hand up my
back and ran his fingers through my short blonde hair and then began kissing my
jawline, my throat, my collarbone, and I now had my hands all over his chest.

He gasped out, “Unlock
your door.”

And I realized we were
still standing on my porch. I nodded and fished my keys from my purse and
opened it quickly, still panting.

Travis grabbed my hand and
sat me on the couch as he shrugged his jacket off. He put both hands on my face
as he found my mouth again and crushed his lips against mine. I kissed him back
again, and he felt so good. He was so warm and smelled outrageous. We kissed
for a while, our hands exploring each other over our clothes, not speaking,
just kissing. He was a pretty good kisser. But he was no Riley.

Riley’s face flitted
through my mind and I knew I couldn’t sleep with Travis. As much as I wanted to
satisfy a physical need that was pooled between my legs and in the pit of my
belly, I just knew I couldn’t. My body needed something that my heart wouldn’t
let me give up, and I almost started crying.

I broke the kiss and
looked at Travis. “I think you should go now,” I whispered.

He adjusted himself with
his hand outside his jeans and I briefly looked down to see him strained
against the denim confining his need. I felt super bad and looked at him
apologetically. He sat looking at me for a minute and then nodded and stood up,
grabbing his jacket.

“I’m sorry,” I said,
walking him to the door. “It’s our first date and all, and
trust
me, I really want you. I mean, I really, really want you,” I sighed. “But I
just shouldn’t.”

He kissed me on the
forehead and nodded. “It’s okay. But I do want to call you again. Is that all
right?”

I nodded and felt bad as
he walked out and I closed and locked the door behind him. Damn.

As I walked back to my
bedroom, two questions floated through my mind: Why couldn’t he have been an
asshole? And where is that new package of batteries I had just bought?

CHAPTER 15

 

Riley’s
letters, emails, and texts, and the already rare phone call became more scarce,
but they were still just as sweet, and we talked a few times about me flying
out to Colorado to see him when he got back. He did not have a set date but he
thought it would be in May some time. It was still only February and it seemed
so far away.

I had just gotten home
from my third date with Travis. He was sweet but I still couldn’t sleep with
him. I plopped on my bed and stared at the framed photo of Riley and me I kept
on my nightstand. It was us at the wedding last summer. We had both gotten
dressed up and my mom had snapped the photo the day of the wedding when we
dropped off Aiden, but she hadn’t really asked about him since. I told her he
was going overseas and she said she’d pray for him. I hoped she was still
praying for him, as I was, every day.
For his safe return and
those of his platoon.

The 49ers ball cap I had
purchased for him sat still in the plastic next to the two framed photos of us.
The other photo was one Miranda had snapped of me, Riley, and Aiden at the
prison’s company picnic they’d held last summer. We had had a great time, and I
remember Riley pushing Aiden on the swings for a long time. It had been sweet
and endearing, and that video reel of him pushing him on those swings will be
forever burned into my brain.

As I reluctantly agreed to
a fourth date with Travis, I began to fret over two things: One, he was going
to expect me to sleep with him soon, and two, that I wouldn’t say no. I was now
going on almost six months with no sex and it was making me crazy.

After a movie and some ice
cream, Travis pulled up to my house and I invited him in. That was the first
mistake. The second was allowing him to kiss me, the third was kissing him
back, and the last was letting him into my bedroom.

The night did not end as I
thought it would. Kissing me on my bed, he looked over to the framed photos of
Riley and slowly got off the bed and glared at me.

Pointing at them, he said,
“I thought it was over with that guy.”

I looked at him sheepishly
and shrugged. “He’s overseas, what can I say? Our relationship isn’t really
defined.”

Travis was quiet for a few
long, tortuous seconds. “I can see that, I suppose. But where does your heart
lie
, Cara?”

The lump in my throat came
back and as I swallowed it down, I managed to whisper, “I can’t answer that
because I don’t know.”

Travis gently grabbed his
baseball cap from my dresser top and walked out my bedroom, out the front door
of my house, and out of my life. And I was both sad and relieved.

 

***

 

“Oh, my God, did you
hear?” Miranda squealed into the phone.

It was late on a Friday
afternoon and I was in no mood to work. I leaned forward in interest and
propped my head up on my hand.
“No, what?”

“The MPs on base arrested
like seven military guys!”

I furrowed my brow.
“For what?”

“Screwing inmates!” she
practically yelled and I craned the phone away from my head at the assault on
my ears.

“You’re shitting me. I
thought only we got arrested for that. It’s like a slap on the wrist for them,
isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it normally would
be, but I heard they were supplying the inmates with cell phones and drugs.”

I groaned. “You know
what,
we did a mass shakedown of the Army bus a few weeks
ago and found
sooo
much crap!”

The bus that takes inmates
to the other side of the base had come back for the day and we had about ten
staff members waiting for it, myself included. There was tons of contraband on
the bus. Gum, McDonald’s wrappers, cigarettes, small bottles of alcohol, some
full, some empty, and other things that we definitely do not issue them.

We pat searched every
inmate and three of them felt like they had things under their clothes so I had
to perform strip searches on them. I found the normal contraband, cigarettes,
small vials of various
make-up
and perfume, and some
food items. But on one inmate I discovered a very nice green lace Victoria’s
Secret bra and panties set.

Yeah, we don’t issue those
either.

I suppose my memo about
what inmate Anderson had told me, along with an investigation that had already
been underway, lead to the bust.

The first thing I thought
of was telling Riley about what happened, and I would email him later when I
got home tonight and see what his reaction would be.

 

***

 

It was now late May and I
realized it had almost been a year since Riley and I had met. It was also the
month Riley was to come home, but I was fretting because I hadn’t heard too
much from him. His communications had been very scarce in the past two months,
with just an occasional email and no phone calls. So, in typical Cara fashion,
I
Googled
this, and learned their communications
overseas get shut down or very limited as they get ready to leave the sandbox
and head home. It also took several days – sometimes weeks even – to get
stateside, stopping in many locations around the world until they reached home.

Thank
God for the Internet!

I was blasting out the
door on my way to work on a Friday morning and my cell rang. It was an unknown
number, so I almost didn’t answer it, but did anyway.

“Hello?”

Crackle. “Hi.” Crackle.

“Hello?”

More
crackling and static.
“It’s Riley.” It was broken up, but I
heard it.

“Oh,
my God!
Riley! Where are you?” I spit out, pausing at the car,
frozen with excitement.

More
static.
“I’m in Israel.” His voice sounded strange, overly
excited and not like him. His speech almost sounded slurred but the connection
was bad.

I furrowed my brow. “What
are you doing in Israel? Are you on your way home?”

“I can’t talk. I love
you.”

The line went dead and so
did my heart.

“I love you, too,” I
whispered into nothingness.

I sighed and unlocked the
car, buckled Aiden into his car seat, and went to work, hoping to hear from
Riley again. I did shoot him a quick text message telling him I was happy he
called, but somehow I knew he wouldn’t get it any time soon since he had
clearly been calling from somewhere other than his cell.

 

***

 

It was a very painful
month before I heard from him again at all. I kept with the Internet searches,
cursing myself each time for being so obsessive. “I just want to make sure he’s
okay, still alive,” I’d tell myself.

One day at work, my desk
phone rang a double ring, indicating an outside call.

“Cara Reid.”

“Hi.”

I sucked in a breath as my
heart felt as if it was going to stop. “Riley!”

“I’m back in Colorado.”
His voice was robotic. There was no static this time and the connection was
clear.

“I’m so glad you’re home!
I was so worried. That last phone call was a bit alarming.”

“What last phone call?”

I was confused. “You
called me from Israel.”

I heard him blow out a
breath. “I did?”

What
the hell was going on here?
“You don’t remember?”

“You know, things were
crazy as I was leaving the Middle East. I didn’t know what day it was, what
time of the day it was. I was exhausted.”

This made me sad and I
couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. “Oh.”

There was a silence on the
line so I continued. “When can I see you?”

Another long pause ensued.
“I don’t know. I’ve got work stuff here and I have to just decompress. I’m not in
a good place right now and not really good to anyone.”

My heart sank a little. “I
just want to see you,” I said in an almost whisper.

“God, Cara, I want to see
you, too. I just can’t. Can you give me some time?”

I nodded as tears dripped
from my face. “Okay. Please let me know, okay? I miss you.”

“I love you, Cara. I’ll
call or email soon.”

And with that, he hung up.

I didn’t understand what
was going on, so back to Google I went, as if it held all the answers to my emotional
problems. Why didn’t he want to see me? Did he find someone else? Maybe he
already had a girlfriend back in Colorado this whole time and it was time for
him to go back to her?
Or a wife?
Of course I’d asked
him these things and he always told me no, and I had no choice other than to
believe him. We were Facebook “friends” and I never saw any indication he was
married or anything on there. I refused to believe that someone who could give
themselves to another person as much as Riley seemed to have given himself to
me had room in their heart for another person. Maybe that made me naïve and
stupid, but I don’t think I am. I’d been down cheater’s row with my ex and I
wasn’t going there again. A million scenarios played through my mind on a
continuous reel until I had to consciously shut it down.

Google revealed mostly
articles of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD. My conversations and emails
with Riley while overseas had always been about me, Aiden, my job, current
events, our relationship, and sometimes sports. He never, ever discussed what
was going on over there, and selfishly, I didn’t want to know. I figured he’d
talk about it when he was ready, and, remembering the reaction he’d had to the
war movie we watched last summer, I was in no hurry to rehash things with him.
I could only imagine the war horrors he’d seen over there.

I looked up when I heard a
knock at my door, and smiled at Jan, the caseworker I shared a wall with.

“Hi, Jan,” I said,
shamefully swiping away a stray tear.

She smiled at me. “Hi,
honey.”

“How’s your daughter
enjoying married life?” I asked in deflection of the pitiful look she gave me.

“She’s good.” She took a
seat in the vacant chair next to my desk. “Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head as a
kneejerk reaction. “No.”

“How’s Riley?”

I smiled a little. “Didn’t
I just say I didn’t want to talk about it?” I tried to joke.

She laid a warm, motherly
hand on my arm. “Listen, Cara. Jim was in the Marine Corps. He did two tours in
Iraq during Desert Storm in the 90s. It was an awful time for our marriage. My
daughter and son were just toddlers and after almost a year alone raising them,
I just wanted my husband home to help. I was stressed out and exhausted from
caring for them and worrying about Jim, whether he’d come home in one piece, or
even at all. You don’t need to tell me why you’re crying because I already
know. I saw the way you looked at that boy at the wedding. And I saw the way he
looked at you. He loves you. You know that, right?”

More traitorous tears
began to plummet from my eyes again and I wiped them away before they could
reach my chin. I nodded. “He just got home to Colorado and doesn’t know if he
wants to see me. I don’t understand.”

She smiled sadly. “Give
him time, honey. Remember this: The desert is a totally different world. He was
working twenty-four-seven, his life was constantly in danger, and he was eating
strange food with little contact with the outside world. Aside from that, he’d
been in a very bland environment the whole time. When they get back, they have
to get used to the overstimulation and colors and sounds of our everyday
society. Or I should say
,
they have to get
re-acquainted with it. He’s got to decompress. You’re actually fortunate,
believe it or not, that you don’t have to witness it. I had to learn the hard
way that Jim couldn’t just plunge right back into our everyday life. He had to
re-adjust. Riley does, too.”

“Thank you, Jan,” I said
with a sniffle.

She stood and indicated
for me to stand and wrapped me in a hug. “Anytime, honey. You just call if you
need something.”

I nodded and watched her
walk out. She was way better than Google.

Other books

Exile by Nikki McCormack
B.A.S.E. Camp by Rob Childs
Scarred by C. M. Steele
Trapped in Tourist Town by Jennifer DeCuir
Saving Gideon by Amy Lillard
Blood Is Dirt by Robert Wilson
Bee-Loud Glade by Himmer, Steve
The Enchanted Quest by Frewin Jones


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024