As You Are

by Claire Cain

  “What would Jared say about these thoughts, Lace?” Bec asked.

  “Oh, he knows. I told him. Even Sarah said something like, ‘Dad, I think I fell in love with the nurse at the ER.’ He was curious, so I filled him in. That Lieutenant Marquez is flat out gorgeous,” she said with a smile.

  Just then the doors opened behind me and footsteps of boots coming through the entrance up to the reception desk echoed in the small tiled-floor space.

  “Oh, that’s me. Catch you later ladies,” Erin said with a smile and then sprinted back into the room where she sat behind her desk separated from the sign-in desk by a little partition for the welcome area. I heard her say something, though her voice was soft and muffled by the wall she was now behind.

  “She’s adorable,” Bec said and smiled in her direction.

  “She is. She’s so nice. It’s refreshing,” I added.

  “Well, at the risk of sounding like an overgrown horndog, speaking of gorgeous men who work on this post. Have you seen this one, ladies? I think he’s going down to visit the schools, but seriously, take a look as he goes by,” Lacy said in a hushed, low voice and then nodded behind me.

  I made a point of investigating something on my shoes, bending over lightly to rub out a scuff mark, and then stood up, rotated to the entrance. My eyes immediately locked on none other than Sergeant Harrison, and just behind him stood another soldier whose nametape said, “Smith.”

  “Oh, hi there,” I said and inwardly rolled my eyes at how breathless I sounded. It wasn’t that he looked so severely handsome when I met his eyes that I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

  No, it wasn’t that.

  It was just the shock—the surprise of finding him there when I wasn’t expecting it. This man didn’t strike me as one who did much without a thorough process of premeditation, so I knew nothing about his visit was a surprise.

  “Hello Dr. Kent. This is Specialist Eli Smith.” Harrison gestured to the young man next to him. The man seemed mostly like a boy to me with his boyish features and shaved head.

  “Nice to meet you, Specialist Smith. Are you here to see me, gentlemen?” After shaking Smith’s hand, I turned back to Lacy and Bec who both had pleased grins on their faces. I gave them a tightlipped, embarrassed smile and flared my eyes at them. They both smiled even wider at my embarrassment.

  “Yes, ma’am, if you’re available,” Harrison said. I tried not to feel the resonance of his deep voice in my chest, but I could admit it… I did. That was a normal thing, right? To feel like someone’s voice has taken up space in your body?

  Normal?

  “Yes,” I kind of croaked and cleared my throat. “Yes, I am. Let’s go to my office,” I said and stepped aside with a hand gesturing in that direction. After the soldiers were in front of me, I gave Bec and Lacy a hard look. Lacy mouthed “later” and Bec nodded enthusiastically. Oh boy.

  I followed Sergeant Harrison and Specialist Smith down the hall, and they stopped to the side of my door just before entering my office. I opened the door wide and moved around my desk. I gestured to the chairs but they chose to stand.

  “How can I help you?”

  “Well, ma’am, I know I’m late, but I was hoping I could still participate in your project, or study, or whatever it is. Sergeant Harrison told me about it, and I thought it was pretty cool, so…” he trailed off as he watched me, waiting for a clue.

  “Of course! Yes, I’d love to have you. Why don’t I ask you a few initial questions, and then I can get you the paperwork and we’ll set up the interview for a week or two so you have time to get your transcripts and such. That sound good?” I shuffled through a pile on my desk and found an untouched intake form with the consent form on top.

  I explained the project, the consent, and what signing it meant and then asked him a few questions about his experiences with higher ed.

  “I failed my first class—a writing class. It was online, and I didn’t keep up with it. But I retook it here in person and it was great. After that I took another general credit every semester. I think I’m up to four now, though I… I had to withdraw from my History 1010 class this semester.” He sounded genuinely regretful at this.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. During the interview, and only if you’re comfortable, I’d like to know why, but don’t worry about that now. Review these and let me know if you have questions.” I talked to him about setting up another interview and we set a tentative date for the following week.

  “Ma’am, is there a restroom in the building?” Smith asked.

  “Yes, down the hall to the left, you’ll see it,” I said and waved my hand in that direction.

  All the while, Harrison had been a statue in the corner. If I hadn’t been so totally aware of his presence in my office, I might have forgotten he was there. I was certain I’d felt his eyes on me at one time or another but had given Specialist Smith my full attention quite purposefully.

  As Smith moved to leave the office, he looked at Harrison. “Five minutes,” Harrison said, and Smith nodded as he left the room. I wondered why Harrison needed to give him a time, but I was still learning the many dynamics at play in Army systems.

  I felt a little pulse of nerves burst in my chest and tried to focus on the calendar I’d pulled up on my computer. I tapped in the appointment and a few notes about Specialist Smith.

  “Big Atwood fan.” Harrison’s voice startled me. He was standing in front of one of the bookshelves I’d filled, his hands behind his back, one of them gripping his patrol cap. His legs were spread wide in a relaxed pose as he studied my collection.

  “Yes. Very much so. Are you?”

  “Everything I’ve read has been excellent. I should read more of hers,” he said casually.

  I was surprised. I’d fully expected him to say he hadn’t read her, or heard of her, or if he had, that he’d watched the television version of The Handmaid’s Tale.

  “Really? What’s your favorite?” I cringed a little at the incredulity in my voice. At some point, I’d have to stop underestimating this guy.

  He turned toward me, his hand still behind his back. “Probably The Handmaid’s Tale, but The Blind Assassin was brilliant.”

  I tried not to let his words affect me. I tried not to let myself zero in on his mouth, notice how his lips curved around the words and sent them out to me like a letter. Like an invitation. Like he was speaking a language only I knew.

  Hadn’t I said this guy was dangerous? I had.

  I’d said it.

  A while back.

  I swallowed and said, “Oh, yes, that is a good one. Do you like Greek mythology? If you do, you might like The Penelopiad—it’s brilliant and, well… it’s Atwood. If you like her, you’ll like it.”

  “I remember reading her poem about the sirens when I was in high school…”

  “‘Siren Song,’ such a good one,” I added enthusiastically, but I couldn’t help it. I never got to talk about this stuff with my coworkers anymore. There wasn’t opportunity. And really, I hadn’t much at the university either since we were all running around trying to build our dossiers and clinch tenure.

  He looked like he wanted to say something else, even opened his mouth, but then shut it abruptly. I felt the loss of whatever it was he might have said, and I wanted to know… desperately.

  “What else do you… uh, well, what else do you read?” I now sounded like a stuttering school girl talking to her high school crush, but there it was. I wanted to know, wanted to see if any of the books on my shelf matched his, if any of the books I’d imagined on his shelf were there.

  He looked like he might answer me for a moment, but then I saw his guard come up, and the openness that had snuck over him was gone. He pursed his lips and said, “Excuse me, ma’am,” and then stepped out into the hall to look toward the bathrooms.

  I resisted the feeling of being smashed like a little transparent house spider just starting to build her web. I was small and fragile and didn’t play w
ell with his particular size of combat boots. Because I did feel it—I did feel smashed and totally shut down and out. I was surprised how disappointed I felt most of all. I wanted to keep talking and couldn’t tell why he’d shut me out that way.

  His words were polite, but his actions were rude and loud. My cheeks reddened as I felt the embarrassment settling over me like a shawl I’d walk around with the rest of the day.

  In another moment he walked back by my office with Smith, and his eyes darted in and to me, and he gave me the most minimal nod of all nods in the history of man. His nod was a reluctant one, and I was glad he’d left the building so he couldn’t feel the waves of embarrassment and confusion rolling off of me.

  Why did this man shake me up so much? He was deeply attractive, yes. But that wasn’t usually a problem. More likely it was the reality he wasn’t just a physical thing of beauty, but that each interaction I had with him left me wanting more of his mind. I kept underestimating him, and he kept proving my preconceptions woefully wrong. It wasn’t that I thought I was particularly brilliant, but we had far more to talk about than I would have thought, and when he allowed himself, it seemed to come easily between us. Not that I knew that to be true, but I’d gotten a small taste of it then, and he’d hooked me.

  “He was here to see you! You know him?” Lacy and Bec snuck into my office and shut the door behind them.

  “Don’t you two need to… I don’t know, do your jobs?” I shifted my weight in my chair, searching for a comfortable position. I felt unsettled and didn’t want to talk about how I knew Jake Harrison and how gorgeous they thought he was.

  “No. We need to know how you know him,” Bec said and crossed her arms.

  “He’s a participant in the TESS project. I’ve talked with him a time or two,” I said and busied myself with checking email on my computer instead of looking back at their over-eager faces.

  “More than once. You’ve been in your office with that man more than once, and you came out alive? You weren’t burned up on the spot by his asteroid-like beauty?” Lacy guffawed.

  “Wow. That was almost eloquent and absolutely the most hyperbolic thing I’ve ever heard,” I said.

  “It’s heavy and intense and hard to look at but hard to look away. Seriously.” Lacy fanned herself. She really was an overgrown horndog.

  “Listen, he’s a soldier who’s in my study, so I shouldn’t be talking about him like this with you guys. Unprofessional,” I said, my voice stern. They both smiled back at me, devious little grins.

  “Mmm, yeah. I think you have a thing for Sergeant Stoneface,” Bec said, and then she stood and walked toward the door.

  Lacy gave me a pointed look and then opened the door. They left me, and I blew out a frustrated, heavy breath. I didn’t want anyone else to be thinking about Jake’s asteroid-like beauty. I didn’t want me to be thinking about it most of all.

  And I didn’t want to spend the rest of my day thinking about Jake Harrison and his taste in books and his knowledge of poetry and his rose-colored lips. I didn’t want to.

  Chapter Four

  I successfully avoided talking about Sergeant William Jacob Harrison for the full three-hour drive to Fort Knox. The fact that I was going to spend all day watching him fight was not going to help my efforts to ignore my brain’s obsession with this man, but I avoided asking Luke the million questions I had. I resisted asking Alex, too, even though I knew she would tell me everything she knew about him.

  Pulling into the gate, Luke collected our IDs and handed them to the guard. He waved us through, and Luke found his way to the building where the tournament was taking place.

  “I did a little research, but I want you to explain things to me as they’re happening too, if you can,” I said to Luke. I’d done quite a bit of research on Army combatives when Alex invited me. This, as research often did, made me feel much better about attending the event once I read the clearly stated objectives: battle readiness, team building, confidence building, esprit de corps, etc. However, I also felt so much worse about my outburst. I’d already prepared another apology for Jake Harrison if we saw him up close and got to talk.

  Whether we’d see him, I didn’t know. But I got a little jittery thinking about it. I didn’t like being wrong, and I hated my not-infrequent habit of putting my foot in my mouth when it came to strong opinions. I wasn’t going to grovel, but I felt a real, inescapable sense of embarrassment when I thought of this particular foot-in-mouth moment, so I was determined to address it again and then move on once and for all.

  Luke smiled at me through the rearview mirror as he stopped the car. “It’s pretty straightforward. At this level, you’ll see the better fighters. At the smaller competitions they start out at the very bottom and the lowest capability, so there are the most restrictions on what movements are allowed—only open-hand strikes to the body and head, stuff like that. As you move up and the skill level grows, so does what’s allowed, but the general idea is that injuring your opponent means injuring a fellow soldier which is bad for everyone, so you don’t want to hurt your opponent. But you’ll see these guys bleed, potentially. They can punch, kick below the head, stuff like that. It’s usually pretty intense after the first few rounds.”

  I swallowed. I was a competitive person, but my parents had always been pacifists. They took their doctors’ oaths to do no harm very seriously and carried that out to the furthest extension of interpretation—don’t perpetrate harm and don’t even be witness to it. We didn’t watch football growing up—too violent. We didn’t see movies that depicted violence because, well, the violence. What I had definitely never done was watch anything like this in person. I didn’t even play soccer, and I always wondered if even that was too much for them. The cross-country team was it for me, and that was about as docile as they came in terms of contact.

  I was genuinely nervous.

  “Ok, great. That’s good. Great,” I babbled.

  “You’ll be fine Ellie, and you can hold my hand if you get scared,” Alex said and smiled sweetly at me. She was teasing, but I knew she meant it. It was not that I would be scared, but things like this could deeply affect me. When I saw the movie 300 I found myself so enraged and disturbed I didn’t speak for the rest of the day. Both the violence and the insane objectification incensed me. Alex knew to be gentle with me, and I appreciated that. I wasn’t a delicate flower, but my level of exposure was limited. I hadn’t become inured to violence.

  “I’ll be fine. So, who all is competing that you guys know?”

  “Harrison, of course. He’ll win the whole thing. Benson, Wilks, and Kilbourne, as well. James will compete too—the only officer who made it. Not sure how they’ll do, but it’ll be fun to see how it goes,” Luke said.

  “That seems like a lot of guys from our battalion, right?” Alex asked. I smiled at the way she said our battalion. She was fully invested in Luke’s life and ready to be Mrs. Waterford.

  “Yeah, it is. It’s pretty unusual for one post to send this many guys from the same unit. But that’s because of Harrison. He’s the best, and he trained these guys, so… there you have it,” Luke explained.

  “Wait, Sergeant Harrison trains other people too?” I asked. The idea of this guy as a teacher was intriguing.

  “Yeah, he’s level four certified, which is the highest cert. That’s pretty rare to have in a unit, so Sergeant Major Trask has him do combatives courses as often as he can justify it. It can’t happen all that often because there’s not time, but Harrison’s the best at instructing as well as the fighting itself. You’ll see what I mean—even without knowing anything about this, you’re going to see for yourself,” Luke said and waved us in the door to the large building ahead of him.

  “I think I see Megan, and that’s Kilbourne’s wife and some of her friends over there. Let’s try to sit with them,” Alex said and pointed to a group of women, one of whom was sitting with a baby carrier strapped to her chest. As we got closer I saw the baby was fast asleep, mou
th slack and face totally relaxed. The woman’s face—well, technically woman but she looked so young—was lit with excitement.

  She and Alex greeted each other, and Alex introduced me, then she introduced us to the others. We chatted a few moments and then Megan beamed at me. “Hello there, Doc. I’ve decided I’m going to call you Doc because I’ve always wanted to have a friend nicknamed Doc, and here you are.” She winked at me.

  “That’s fine by me, as long as you know I’m not a medical doctor.”

  “I know that. I don’t care—I’m calling you Doc. More importantly, I hear you’re a tournament virgin?” she asked with one perfectly arched brow raised.

  “Yes. I am. Should I be nervous?” I stuttered a bit as she grinned at me. The woman had no problem speaking her mind, and I liked that about her.

  “Not at all. Unless you get nervous around loads of testosterone and bulging biceps. Then yes.” She waived at herself. “Personally, I’ll be cheering for James, and I can’t say I mind at all that he’ll be all frustrated and energized when he loses to Sergeant Harrison or whoever else.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively and I laughed. Alex didn’t hold back her chuckle either.

  “I told you, she’s hilarious. And I hope I’m making lewd comments about Luke after a decade of marriage.” Alex patted Megan on the back.

  Megan’s smile never wavered, but her eyes seemed serious. “Let me tell you, it has not come without some blood, sweat, and tears. But if there is something hotter than a man who has seen you at your worst, your darkest moments, and then still loves you, I just cannot imagine what that is.”

  The announcer stopped Alex and me from commenting as he began the tournament. Four soldiers marched in the colors—the American flag—and then a young sergeant sang an amazing version of the National Anthem. The soldiers around the huge hall stood at attention, and I loved how strict and straight they all looked, snapped up with full focus on their banner, their guide. I felt tingly with nerves and a strange feeling of thrill coursing through me as my hand rested on my heart and I tried to keep my knees from wiggling.