A Soldier Saved--A Clean Romance

by Cheryl Harper

  Since that had been his method of operation for his first wedding, Angela was certain he had no idea how annoying he sounded. He embraced the tradition of the helpless groom faced with a bride’s bossiness. Worse, it seemed to please him.

  “I hope Kate’s not working too hard. Pregnancy can be exhausting and the extra pressure might make that worse. Planning a wedding requires a lot of legwork, even with an event planner to help.” There. She’d told him he was edging into jerk territory and reminded him to care for the mother of his child. That had to be her good deed for the day.

  Proud of herself, she opened her eyes and saw Jason Ward standing in her doorway. How long had he been there? He was balanced awkwardly, as if he was measuring the distance for retreat, so she waved him in. Office hours. This was technically his time, not hers.

  “I’m in office hours right now and getting ready for my creative writing class.” She pointed silently at the chair across her desk when Jason retreated a step.

  “Oh, right, your little summer class. How’s that going? Have you found this generation’s next poet laureate?” Rodney asked. It wasn’t so much the words but the tone that prompted her grimace.

  Meeting Jason’s stare, she rolled her eyes and felt immediately better. She tried to do it only once every time she talked to Rodney.

  “My little classes are energizing, Rodney. It’s amazing what you get from the most unexpected sources. This morning I read a poem about ice cream that I enjoyed.” Angela raised her eyebrows at Jason and he slumped back in his chair. “Not a lot of people get to help something along from good to great, you know? I realize you love your job as the head of the department at a big school, but for me, this class is why I do what I do.” There. That felt good, too.

  Jason returned the look, his eyebrows raised. She was getting more of the “yeah, right” vibe from his expression.

  “Not many kids at little Sawgrass, but you know there’s space in my department here. You want to teach your creative writing course, that’ll be fine. Take over a couple freshman composition classes. Easy. You say the word, and I’ll get you added to my roster,” Rodney offered and then paused.

  She knew what the word was. Please. If she’d only ask him to hire her like it was a favor, he’d do it. Magnanimously. The benevolent man offering his gift to the needy. No. Thank. You.

  “This fall semester, you’ll have to take the freshman comp classes, but we’ll get you out of that eventually.”

  Right. When she was no longer the new guy in the department, she’d be able to teach what she wanted. Whenever that might happen.

  “I’m happy where I am.” It was the easiest answer because it was true. “And when Greer comes down to stay, this place will be paradise.”

  It would be. Everything she loved would be in one spot.

  “Well, that’s what I was calling about. Keep the first Saturday in August open, if you don’t mind. We haven’t sent out the invitations yet, but we’ll get them out by the end of the week. Kate and I would love it if you could attend our wedding in Key West. I know it’s an extra cost and an imposition that close to the beginning of the new school year, but I am hoping—”

  “I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. I’m hoping you’ll find something nautical for Greer to wear, since you’ll be on a boat. A sailor suit with one of those little white hats.” Angela would show them she was looking forward to the occasion if it killed her. And Greer might for making that suggestion.

  “Mom.” Greer’s long, drawled reply amused Angela, and some of the tense knot in her stomach eased.

  “Okay, so you’re going to miss out on the chance to wear a parrot on your shoulder and a patch on your eye, too?” Angela asked, her voice shaking with laughter.

  “Yes.” Greer snorted. Rodney was silent. He never had enjoyed their comedy routines.

  “We’ll be planning a full weekend, all the adventures Key West has to offer, so bring your swimsuit and lots of sunscreen. Snorkeling tours. A sunset cruise. It’ll be fun.” Rodney held for a beat. “I saw your post with the captain. Maybe he’d like to come along? You never were good at jumping in with both feet until you had a sidekick. We’ll be sure to include a plus-one for every event.” Rodney’s words were simple enough on the surface, but to Angela, they pressed hard on a sensitive spot. As if his life was fully on track and had left the station, his own sidekick already aboard, while she was still stuck at the gate. Alone.

  “He spends enough time on boats, Rodney. This is going to be a celebration for family after all. I’d hate to drag a new...friend into that. Not that he is one. I mean, he isn’t anything. Yet. What I mean is, there’s no need to add another person for me. I’m happy to come, but I’ll be alone.” Angela turned her chair to check the view out the window because she didn’t want to see Jason’s face at this turn in the conversation. Their family banter was okay, but for some reason, she didn’t want him to hear anything where she might come off as less than victorious. In the love game, she was losing to her ex-husband and it hadn’t even bothered her until this point.

  Plus, today she was fumbling and stepping all over her well-thought-out responses. Time to retreat.

  “Oh, well, it’s kinda lonely to be on your own in a crowd like this, but you know every spot we leave open costs us, so if your plans change closer to the date, let me know. Right now, we’ll count you as a single.” Rodney sighed. “Finally. The wrecker cleared the lane and traffic is moving. We’ll make it home again someday, Greer.”

  “Hey, Mom, I’ll call you later, okay? The senator is going to give me a tour of the Capitol today and I know I’ll have some juicy info to share.” Her daughter would protect her to the end, but more than anything, she’d twist herself into knots to prevent her parents from fighting.

  “Sure thing, baby. I can’t wait to hear about it. Call me when you have a minute.” Angela’s finger hovered over the button to end the call. “And, Rodney, congratulations. Take care of your fiancée, okay?” Before he could answer, Angela disconnected the call and then sagged back in her chair.

  For the longest minute she stared up at the ceiling. She was going to have to find out why Jason had stopped in.

  Would it happen before their class started?

  “So, your ex-husband seems nice.” Jason’s low voice was a pleasant rumble in the deeply quiet atmosphere of her office. His words surprised a chuckle from her. Embarrassment was so dumb. At some point she’d have to figure out why Rodney’s change in circumstances suddenly made her ashamed of everything she’d done for herself.

  Later.

  “He is nice. In a world of people, some of them really, truly horrible, he’s a nice person but...” She turned to meet his stare. “Not without his challenging behavior.”

  “Challenging behavior. Why does that sound like a therapy phrase?” Jason nodded slowly. “Doesn’t think much of your work, I guess. What’s his problem? Is he jealous of your success?”

  Her success? In a strict comparison of paychecks, Rodney would win, but it was nice to know someone else might view the situation differently. Since “challenging behavior” was Angela repeating what the marriage counselor had said on one of the visits that Rodney had flaked on, Angela was doubly impressed.

  Angela fiddled with her phone as she considered that. “He’s who he is.”

  “I haven’t read your dissertation, but the description had me hooked.” Jason held up a hand. “I’m no college professor, but how many poems has he had published?”

  None. The answer to that was zero.

  “Thanks. That’s a conversation we have pretty often. I don’t let it bother me anymore.” Half-true anyway. She didn’t want to let it bother her.

  The last thing she wanted to talk about with one of her students was her ex-husband.

  Make that student handsome and add in this...whatever it was between them, and it was time to change th
e subject. “So, what a nice email to find in my in-box this morning. Not just one poem but two.”

  Jason’s stare moved to focus on the window behind her head. “And then you were...disappointed, maybe? By the quality of the writing.”

  Angela braced her elbows on the desk and waited for him to look at her.

  It took longer than she expected, so either there was something fascinating taking place over her left shoulder or he was really worried about his writing.

  “The thing about writing is that the good writers never quite grasp how good they are.” Angela shrugged. “Or that’s how it goes in my experience. Bad writers have all the confidence in the world, and the good ones... Well, is it bravery? I’m not sure. They keep going even when they aren’t sure that what they’re doing matters or if it has any value.”

  “Yeah. That’s not just writers. People in general are the same. Bad ones? They’ll knock you down and tell you they’re doing you a favor.” Jason cleared his throat. “I didn’t come for a pep talk. I’m here to make sure I can still come to class and expect a solid grade. Is a B still an option? I hoped turning in more than the minimum would help me, even though I missed the deadline.”

  He hadn’t come for a pep talk. Right.

  “I would have extended any student the extra time I gave to you. I needed the work before class today. I have it. You’ve met the requirements. In fact, you’ve now completed two of the four assignments, so good job.” Angela was watching him closely enough that she saw his shoulders relax a fraction. Whatever he thought about creative writing, he wanted the grade.

  That was a good start.

  He also had talent. She might be the first person to know that, so it was her job to grow it.

  “You know what you wrote is good, right?” Angela reached into the drawer at her side and pulled out a copy of the school’s literary magazine. “In the fall and spring semesters, we put together a literary magazine. All the work is done by students. Writing, editing, photography, drawing, graphic design. Completely by the student body. You should submit these to the editor. Well, come up with real titles and then submit them.”

  She slid the magazine across the table. “Keep this copy. I have more.”

  Jason took it and flipped through a few pages. “Mira. I know her.”

  When he said it, something clicked for Angela. “Oh, the army. You’re retired military. Like Mira. That makes so much sense.” If she’d taken a minute to evaluate the whole picture of Jason Ward, it would have been an easy equation. His demeanor. Coming into Sawgrass at his age and without a plan. It was all clear.

  “Sense?” Jason asked, a frown sliding into place. This was the Jason she’d seen the first day they met, not like at the marina. He rubbed his knee. “What does that mean?”

  Realizing that she was treading right on the line of insulting him, even though she wasn’t sure how, Angela said, “You are perfectly pressed in a strictly wash-and-wear environment. I appreciate it. And now that I’ve read both poems and understand your background, I know how good a writer you are.”

  Jason tipped his head forward. “Are you distracting me from my question?”

  “Not really. You’re out of step here. Reserved. Your writing has a lot of passion. This one about the color red? The polish and the flashing safety lights on the bicycles, I got. I wasn’t as clear on the connection on the stripes on the flag and blood on fresh bandages, the warning light on the dashboard and the radio tower signal. All red, sure, but some of them don’t spring to mind as easily.”

  She shrugged, hoping that he was taking this as literary criticism, but each word she said crushed her heart. What a life he’d had while she’d been raising her daughter in the safety of middle America. When they’d talked on the bench, he’d mentioned joining the army so casually, briefly, that she’d skipped right over it. How was that possible? It was a huge piece of his life.

  “The small pleasures of home made possible by sacrifices people make for their country. It’s powerful, Jason.” She tapped the literary magazine. “Mira has a poem in this copy. It’s about family trees. The images and the themes are different, but you’re going to recognize the voice, the truth that she’s writing about, how some people make sacrifices that connect them to others they’ve never met. What we know about people colors how we read their words.”

  Jason frowned down at the literary magazine. He opened his mouth but changed his mind about whatever he was going to say.

  “You know we don’t know your experience, the military life, unless someone tells us about it. Mira did. You did.” Angela waited until his eyes met hers. “It’s hard, but it’s amazing. Is Mira retired army, too?” Mira had been fully silent for the first week of class. Angela had been afraid she’d drop it until she read the first poem Mira wrote. All she’d needed was confidence.

  Mira had been a solid performer. She’d taken all the lectures and studied how to craft images.

  She hadn’t had the talent Jason did, but whatever science classroom Mira led in the future was going to get a teacher who experienced things deeply, even if she didn’t speak them aloud. And the experiences she’d had... Angela had only seen the smallest tip of the iceberg.

  How much more would Jason show?

  “No, air force. It’s safer to ask which branch.” He cleared his throat. “Lots of pride in every branch, you know? Some people would take that army suggestion as a reason to fight.”

  Angela mimed making a note. “Thank you. I’ve marked it down for future reference.”

  “Mira and I are neighbors at Concord Court. She strikes me as someone I’d be happy to fight alongside.” He watched Angela closely as he said it. “I imagine you’ve had other students from there. It’s a condition of living there—get a job or get a degree.”

  Angela tried to remember other military students but couldn’t. “Going forward, I hope I’ll have others take my classes. Mira’s bound for the science building. She wrote a short story about frog dissection that is funnier than you’d expect.” She didn’t want to speculate about Jason’s future. “Do you plan to sign up for more English classes?” He would do well in whatever he chose. The air of unflappable competency that surrounded him convinced her he could do anything he wanted.

  What would he enjoy doing, though? Not accounting.

  He pinched a pleat in his jeans but didn’t meet her stare. “Not sure what I’ll do. I’m still not convinced school is for me. It’s weird to have no concept of what comes next.”

  Angela couldn’t imagine living that way. Even when things were falling apart, she’d known what had to be crossed off the list. It was a good thing he was a student. Without that impediment, his hints would have turned into a date, which might have become more.

  She’d already proven that taking charge of a man’s life didn’t work in relationships. Since Jason was all potential at this point and no plan, she would not be able to resist.

  However, he was a student. For now.

  “Your grade is on track, Jason.” Angela pointed at the clock. “Although we both better get to class quickly. And if you were about to ask to take back what you’ve written, because at least one of my students in every class has attempted to before the critiques begin, you can’t. You’re committed now.” She grinned at his surprise. It never failed. There was always someone who sent her something and then changed their mind. When it was clearly a case of the nerves, her answer was always no. Nerves were part of the process.

  “Destination wedding, huh?” His quick change of subject confused her for a second. Rodney and his superiority were already forgotten. That was one of the blessings of moving away and building a new life. Rodney no longer had the ability to ruin her day. “I’ve been meaning to visit Key West but it’s a long drive.”

  Depending on traffic, about four hours down and back. It was a commitment for anyone unless they had all the time in the
world.

  “When the semester is over, I’ll get down to visit.” He stood and crossed his arms over his chest, his attention locked on her.

  Was her hair weird? Angela battled the urge to smooth it down.

  “I’ll definitely be going after the semester is over.” Angela mirrored his stance, that unfamiliar but exciting little zing of something prodding her to move, to do something with the energy and nerves bubbling. “And I’ll either need to find someone to push me into every activity as the sorry single lady or resign myself to ignoring my ex’s poor-you sad face.” Angela held up both of her hands. “Not that I’m bitter or anything.”

  Jason rocked back and bumped the wall. “Never met your husband, but in his spot, I’d be too busy staring at my bride to worry too much about the ex. Date or no date, doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got a whole lot to celebrate yourself. Right? Career. House. Great daughter.” Jason tilted his head back. “Have you called the captain?”

  “No way!” Angela squawked before she could control it. “Besides, it’s only been two days.”

  And she didn’t appreciate the insinuation that she needed a man to find the fun Greer seemed to be demanding, whether he was a date or not. Still, it was easier to do some things with a friend.

  “That’s more than enough time.” Jason’s chuckle was enough to turn up the heat under the bubbling. It was harder to breathe and, if she wasn’t mistaken, color was filling her cheeks. What was that about?

  “In the same place—” Jason shrugged “—I would have called already.” He picked up his backpack. “I would definitely need to know when I was seeing you again.” Then he pointed at the clock. “About five minutes, right, prof? Better get to class.”

  He turned away and bumped the doorway on his way out. That slight awkwardness to his exit was the only consolation she had as she thumped back down in her office chair and covered her face with both hands.