by Susan Wiggs
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He gave her a kiss, broke away and joined Charlie on the frog hunt.
Eight
Daisy’s news surprised no one. She hadn’t been expecting that. She thought the whole world believed she would eventually settle down with Logan. They’d made Charlie together, after all. Logan had moved to Avalon for the sake of their son and had started a business here despite his family’s objections. They both worked hard to be good parents. She figured people anticipated that they’d get together one day.
She couldn’t have been more wrong about her friends’ and family’s assumptions.
“It’s wonderful,” said her mother, hugging her close. “I’m so happy for you.”
Even her brother, Max, a high school jock and no fan of hugging, gave her a hug. “That’s awesome,” he said. Then, in typical practical male fashion, he thought of logistics. “Not to slip a turd in your punch bowl or anything, but how’s that going to work, with him being in the air force and all?”
She winced at his turn of phrase, but he did bring up a good point. “We have a lot to figure out.” After the lake, she and Julian had gone to her house, where they’d talked long into the night, dreaming, fantasizing, planning and hoping. She’d yearned for him to stay, but for Charlie’s sake, they reluctantly parted ways, and Julian went to stay at his brother’s.
“We considered eloping—Mom, I said considered,” she quickly explained before her mother had a fit. There were compelling reasons to marry before deployment, Julian had pointed out. He’d enumerated the benefits—increased basic housing allowance and family separation pay, and survivor’s benefits if he was killed.
The moment he’d mentioned that, she’d shut him down. “Don’t you dare,” she’d whispered, clinging to him. “Don’t even go there.” To her mother, she said, “We both want a small, traditional wedding.”
“Have you set a date?” her mother asked.
“First Saturday in October. He can get a one-week furlough from his mission. We want to get married at Camp Kioga. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? I was married there myself, once upon a time.”
“Yeah, but that didn’t work out so well for you and Dad, did it?”
“Immaterial,” her mother said. “It’s a beautiful place, so special to all the Bellamys.”
“Thanks for understanding. I want a cake from Sky River Bakery and Julian wants Cajun food. Do you think that will be a problem?”
“Sucking the heads off crawdads?” She shrugged. “We’ll deal. What about flowers?”
“Julian says daisies. I have no preference.”
Truth be told, all she cared about was marrying him. “Mom, I never dreamed I’d be sitting here with you, planning my wedding. It just didn’t seem like something that would happen to me.”
“Oh, baby. You’re still so young. All of life is in front of you.”
Daisy felt a welling of emotion. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m glad you’re waiting until fall. You’ll need the time to—” She stopped, her gaze shifting away.
“What?” asked Daisy.
“Let’s enjoy your news, that’s what. We can talk about details later.”
She knew exactly what details her mother meant.
Daisy sailed through each day, spreading the news like fairy dust wherever she went. “I’m being totally obnoxious,” she told her stepsister, Sonnet, during one of their marathon phone conversations. “I can’t help myself. It’s a wonder people don’t run the other way when they see me coming.”
“Everybody’s happy for you,” Sonnet assured her. “They’ve all wanted this for you for a long time.”
“As many brides as I’ve photographed, I never quite understood why they seemed…I don’t know. Apart, like they live in a special world you can only inhabit when you’re a bride. Now I get it. I’m a basket case, in the best possible way, walking around with this teary lump of joy in my chest.”
“Enjoy every minute of it, okay? Where’s Prince Charming now?”
“With Charlie. They’re having some man-time together, no girls allowed. God. I can’t stand the thought of him leaving. I’m going to miss him so much.”
“You’ll stay busy getting ready for the wedding.”
“I feel so clueless. Working in the industry, I thought I had it all figured out. It’s kind of overwhelming.”
“Weddings are supposed to be, at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
Daisy hung up with a goofy smile on her face. She felt lucky to have such great friends and family. She picked up Julian’s framed service portrait, which she kept on her bedside table. Technically, the photo was only workmanlike, even cookie-cutter. Yet in his dress uniform, beside the flag, he looked so proud and handsome it brought tears to her eyes.
“What a life we’re going to have,” she said, knowing she’d have many imaginary conversations with him in the months to come. “You’re a one-man adventure, that’s for sure.”
“Mom! Mom!” Charlie’s voice shrilled from the back door. “Come see what we did.”
Oh boy, she thought, hurrying downstairs. She found them in the kitchen, their faces alight with joy. It was a joy she shared…until her gaze fell on the small, scruffy brown creature standing between them, stubby tail wagging furiously.
“Blake!” Charlie exclaimed. “Her name’s Blake! We can keep her if she does real good.”
“I explained to Charlie we’ve only got her out on trial,” Julian said quickly.
“On trial.” She felt torn between exasperation and gratitude. Sure, she’d been wanting to get a dog for a while, but not like this. She didn’t want Julian to bribe his way into the little boy’s heart.
“That means we gotta give her back if it’s not a good match,” Charlie explained soberly. He sank down and sat back on his heels, gently petting the little terrier’s head. She gazed up at him with worshipful eyes.
“You couldn’t have checked with me first?” she asked Julian, trying not to melt at the sight of her little boy and the adoring dog.
“We wanted to surprise you.”
“Manipulate me, you mean,” she said.
“But in a good way,” he said, grabbing her around the waist and giving her a quick, hard kiss. “She belonged to a serviceman who couldn’t keep her after he got back from a deployment.”
“Blake needs us,” Charlie said.
“We’ll see.”
“Yes.” Charlie held up a hand in a victory salute.
“I said we’ll see.”
“That’s what moms always say when they don’t want to say yes right off the bat,” Julian explained.
“Hey,” said Daisy.
“I love her,” Charlie said, draping his arms around the dog. “I can’t help it. I do.”
Daisy got down on the floor and smoothed her hand over the terrier’s warm, bony head. Her rough brown coat felt substantial, a coarse counterpart to the doe-soft eyes. “Dogs have a way of doing that to people,” she said.
“The dog’s in the bed with him,” she said to Julian that night.
“Is she keeping him awake?”
“No, just the opposite. He fell asleep faster than ever.” She’d been completely charmed by the sight of Charlie and Blake, relaxed and cozy, curled together like the yin and the yang.
“That’s a good thing, then,” he said.
“I still say you should have talked to me about it first.”
“You would’ve said to go for it.” He drew her down next to him on the sofa. “If I thought it was going to be a problem, I wouldn’t have brought the little rascal home.”
“It was incredibly sweet. Thank you.” She settled into his shoulder, feeling a wave of contentment. If they spent every evening like this for the rest of their lives, she’d have nothing to complain about.
“You’re keeping her,” Julian said.
He almost never asked questions. She hadn’t noticed that about him before. “Tell me about Bla
ke’s former owner.”
“I did—a guy who was in the service.”
“Details, Lieutenant. He came back from deployment and what? Why can’t he take care of his dog anymore? Did he get hurt?”
“I don’t know him personally. Didi Romano, down at the Humane Society, said he was going through some personal problems after he got back. Taking care of a dog was too much for him.”
She sensed he was evading her. “Too much? I don’t understand.”
Julian drew her closer, pressed his lips to her forehead. “He came back with PTSD. Tried to take his own life.”
A chill slid through her, despite the warmth of his embrace. “Oh, God.”
“There’s a lot of support for military personnel with mental health issues. That hasn’t always been the case, but it is now. He gave up the dog for good, though.”
She turned in his arms and took his face between her hands. “Promise me,” she said, her voice harsh with intensity, “promise me you’re going to be all right, no matter what you see or do, no matter what happens to you.”
“Babe. I promise.”
He should have been a politician. He had the voice, the sincerity. She had more faith in him than she did in the rising sun. “I just love you so much,” she whispered against his mouth, but the words weren’t nearly enough. With a soft sigh, she leaned back, peeling her shirt up over her head. She needed to show him. To feel him, at last, all barriers down. His hands spanned her waist, pulling her down again as he kissed her. Finally, she thought, half dizzy with joy and desire. Finally.
“This couch isn’t big enough for the two of us,” he murmured against her mouth, as if reading her thoughts. They made their way to the bedroom, closing the door quietly but firmly.
After all the times she had imagined making love to him, she should have been prepared for the breathless pleasure of being free to touch him, to love him with every part of her. She wasn’t, though. Every moment exploded with surprise and delight. Her hands made discoveries that left her light-headed with wonder, and her heart was caught up in the joy of being, at long last, in a place she had only ever truly dreamed about. His muscles, honed by the best military training in the world, felt rock hard but alive with warmth beneath his smooth velvet skin. She loved that he seemed so strong and tender at the same time. But more compelling than the feel of him under her hands was the way he touched her, with an intensity that hovered somewhere between eroticism and reverence.
For the first time in her life, she understood the power of a loving touch. When he reached for her, his hands shook, yet he showed no hesitation as he explored, bringing to life sensations and emotions so powerful she was almost afraid. Almost, but not quite.
He pinned her hands up above her head, making her vulnerable to him, and it was thrilling because she felt nothing but blind trust. She let herself be lost in him, drowning in feeling, nearly weeping from the shattering sweetness that crested through her, leaving her weak and mindless with happiness.
It was raining the next day when Julian left. He had further training and briefing at a facility in Georgia, and from there, he would travel to Colombia to take up his duties, which he was forbidden to talk about. Daisy took Charlie and Blake to Logan’s house. Logan was clearly not pleased about the dog, but he held his tongue, for which she was grateful.
Julian was already at the train station, waiting to say goodbye. She approached him quietly. Last night, everything had been said between them, though she didn’t recall many words exchanged, only touch. They’d made love for hours, kissing and holding each other with a tender desperation that filled every cell of her body. Now all that was left was to say goodbye.
She sat with him on a bench under an awning. The rain battered down, creating a curtain of mist between them and the outside world. Cars trolled sluggishly through town, some turning into the parking lot, splashing through puddles as they went. A few pedestrians huddled under umbrellas or hurried along, hunched into hooded raincoats.
She clung to both of his hands. He had big hands, filled with strength, but they were infinitely gentle as they cradled hers. The engagement ring glinted on her finger, a tiny sparkle of light in the gloom. She felt strangely fragile, and sweetly sore in places that reminded her of last night.
“You look incredible,” she told him, eyeing the uniform. “An officer and a gentleman.”
He smiled, brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead and kissed her brow. “Right, that’s me.”
“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said for the hundredth time. “We should be used to this, right? We’ve been apart before. But I’ve never been this scared.”
“Don’t be.” His hands closed around hers. “This isn’t supposed to be scary.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I don’t understand how it’s possible to be so happy and afraid at the same time.”
“Focus on the happy part.”
She nodded. “Next time we see each other, we’ll be getting ready for our wedding. I can’t believe it’s happening. Our wedding.” She leaned against his shoulder, inhaled his warm, familiar scent. Oh, she wanted more time with him. More time to savor all the little things she loved about him—the way his eyes shone when he looked at her, the lightning quick smile that lit his face at the slightest provocation. His enormous appetite, the sound of his laughter, the way he tended to whistle tunelessly through his teeth when he was concentrating on something.
He checked his watch, craned his neck to view the tracks coming into the station. He seemed almost impatient.
He’d been meticulous, almost chilling in his attention to the details of leaving. He’d drafted a will, joking that his beater car and collection of books weren’t even worth the filing fee. He’d stored his stuff at his brother’s, written private letters she prayed she’d never read, canceled his phone service.
Taking in a long breath, she mustered a smile, letting her heart show in her eyes. She didn’t want to lose herself in tears and fears. In preparation for his departure, she’d studied all the literature she could find on being in love with a military man. It was uncanny, how spot-on the articles were. Over the past few days, Julian seemed to go away in his head sometimes, creating a subtle sense of detachment. It was normal, she reminded herself. And it was also normal for her to be filled with such an intense emotional need for him that she could barely concentrate on anything else.
Be here now, she reminded herself. Be here in this moment.
She fought the part of her that wanted to claw at him, beg him not to go. One of the things she’d gleaned from the military spouses she’d already met was a peculiar dignity that was somehow more piercing than tears and hysterics.
A train whistle sounded. Julian looked at his watch again. “I’d better get up to the platform,” he said.
Daisy’s heart beat fast as she walked with him under the awning, then up the stairs to the platform. After all the waiting, the slow, agonizing seconds leading to this moment, everything had sped up.
She could only focus on Julian. He set down his duffel and took her in his arms, kissed her for a long time. Their last kiss for five months, she thought. How could she make this seem different, more special, more memorable? How could she turn this into something that would sustain her the whole time he was gone?
“Take care,” he whispered against her mouth. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” she echoed. “I’ll think of you every minute.”
“Be sure you think about how much I love you. I tried to show you last night. It’s only the beginning.”
She cried but managed to keep from sobbing herself into a pool of despair. Her heart was breaking, but she dug deep and unearthed a certain quiet stoicism she never knew she possessed.
They separated, stepping away from each other, hands clinging, then fingers, then nothing but air between them. He picked up his bag and headed for the train, melting into the small cluster of people who were boarding.
She felt empt
y, like someone who had just been assaulted, as if some violence had been done to her. Why hadn’t they held each other longer, shared one more kiss?
As the train pulled out of the station, he appeared in the opening between two cars. Over the clash and hiss of the train, he yelled, “Daisy, I love you!”
“Yo, Daisy,” yelled another passenger nearby, “he loves you!”
“He loves you, Daisy,” called yet another unseen stranger, and several more joined in the refrain.
She laughed through her tears and called back, “Julian, I love you!” By then he probably couldn’t hear; the train whistle shrilled, drowning her voice.
“Oh,” said Sonnet. “No no no no no.” Daisy’s stepsister bustled into the house and walked in a circle around Daisy, who was getting ready for her first meeting of the ROTC friends and family group.
One thing about the military, Daisy had quickly learned, was that there was a support group for everything. She was getting ready to attend a meeting of people who were dealing with the issues of having a loved one in the service. Members of the ROTC tended to get engaged and married this time of year, so groups were mobilizing.
Sonnet, whose natural father had made a long and successful career in the military, was pretty familiar with the subculture. Daisy had asked her to come over and help her get ready.
“What do you mean, no?” Daisy asked, holding her hands out to her sides. “Something wrong with my outfit?”
“You look like Jackie Kennedy,” Sonnet said with a toss of her corkscrew curls.
“And that’s a bad thing?” Daisy smoothed her hand down the pencil skirt.
“Not if you want to look like a stewardess.” Sonnet grabbed her hand and led the way to the bedroom, pausing to peek at Charlie, who was napping peacefully in a bed shaped like a dinosaur. Sonnet was going to babysit him while Daisy went to the meeting.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Daisy said.
“You’re going. You need to get used to doing stuff like this, meeting other fiancées and spouses. Being in the service demands so much from everybody. The women you meet in these groups are going to be your lifeline sometimes, you mark my words.”
