by Zoe York
He took a deep breath. Right. Job first, woman second.
He grabbed his plate and headed in search of the Canadian government advance party, because standing in the way of any attempt to get to know Jenna better were a politician with lofty ideals and an entire refugee camp of patients. He couldn’t do anything about the latter, but he could do his damnedest to make the former’s visit work to his advantage.
It didn’t take him long to track down an officious communications officer and get a copy of the PM’s schedule for the next day’s visit. It came attached to a six page memo. He glanced at the itinerary then shoved the packet in the pocket on his pants leg. “Do you have a computer I could use to log in to the DWAN and email my HQ?”
After updating his CO that he’d arrived and all was on track for the PM’s visit, he checked his personal email. There were messages from all three of his brothers. Baby pictures from Jake, a new-house update from Dean, and Matt gave him the low-down on the gossip from their reserve army regiment back home.
No email from their father, not that he’d opened the last one the Colonel had sent. It was the only message from his father in the last month and had been a forward of a news article with the subject line, “Worth a read”. Sure, Dad, I’ll get right on that.
He’d never understood his father’s sporadic attempts to reach out. They were never personal, always forwards like that, leaving Sean to guess at the intent behind the messages. He didn’t need any motivation, if that’s what it was about. And if it was a cautionary tale; or just a jaded, pessimistic bit of bullshit…well, he wasn’t up for those, either.
To be fair, there wasn’t anything his father could send his way that would land properly. All his life, Sean tried to make sense of why that was—why he struggled so much more than his brothers did with the Colonel’s gruff, removed parenting style.
Maybe it was because they all remembered, at least in small slices, what it was like to have a more loving parent.
Sean scrubbed his hand over his face. As he always did when thoughts of the mother he’d never known slid into his head, he pushed them away. It wasn’t helpful to be maudlin. He knew who he was, and why he lived his life the way he did. That was all that mattered. That was how he could honour her sacrifice.
This week that meant ensuring his nation’s leader’s arrival on the edge of a war zone was as smooth as possible.
He headed to his bunk in the NATO barracks. He’d been given a shared room as they didn’t have any officer quarters available, which didn’t matter to him in the least.
He wasn’t planning on spending any time there except to rack out.
Right now, he needed to get a better visual on where the delegation would visit tomorrow. His role would be mostly as a quiet observer, and to report an all-clear to his CO at the end of the visit. But there were always unforeseen problems, as well as opportunities. Best to get a good lay of the land and be prepared either way.
He changed out of his uniform and put on his nondescript PT gear. He stuck his ID into a pocket inside his sweat pants, made sure his dog tags were hidden beneath his t-shirt, and headed back outside. The sun was higher in the sky now and the air had lost the biting chill he’d been surprised by when he landed. Now it was almost warm enough for him to run in just a t-shirt and shorts. He was looking forward to getting in some long runs in Spain.
He set off on an easy lope around the perimeter of the NGO compound. As he reached the southwestern most point, he could see through the fence to the regional airport less than a kilometre away. That airfield was why this camp had popped up here in the last year. It was secure enough for Western nations to fly in planes to pick up vetted refugees, and there were some civilian flights, too.
That’s where the Canadian delegation would land. This would be the new prime minister’s first impression of the effects of war. Sean visualized his own arrival earlier that day, the bumpy drive to the camp in the early dawn. He’d been eager to get this shit over with then.
He wasn’t in any hurry to leave now. He had to figure out how to engineer some opportunities to see Jenna the Midwife again.
With a quick wave up at the peacekeepers in the tower at the compound corner, he turned his back on the airport. According to the itinerary the last stop on the PM’s tour the next day would be the field hospital, but it was the first place Sean wanted to scope out. Not exactly professional, but there was something about Jenna that made him want to break the rules.
And Sean was checking out everything on the itinerary.
The PM would also spend time out in the camp itself, meeting Syrians in the process of applying for refugee status with Canada, then he’d have lunch with the camp director and NGO coordinator.
So Sean next ran to the checkpoint between the NGO compound and the camp itself. He introduced himself to the guards and presented his ID. He accepted their normal caution about traveling in a group, but he wasn’t wearing anything on him identifying himself as a soldier.
And he could out run and out last anyone.
He stuck to the wider main “streets”, avoiding the narrow lanes between the rows of tents where women did washing in plastic basins and men beat out sleeping mats. He’d often hear a crying baby, a toddler’s shriek of joy, and think of Jenna. How many babies were born here? How many couples lay together, knowing the risk and still taking it—either because they wanted to start or grow their family no matter what, or maybe just to have that intimacy, damn the consequences.
On his third figure eight loop through the camp, he came across a line of people in front of a trailer he’d passed before, but which was now open.
Health Clinic, a sign on the side read.
His heart jumped a little in his chest, which was ridiculous. But his hopes of seeing Jenna were rewarded as he slowed to a stop. She was just inside the doorway, holding a clipboard. He watched as she worked with a translator to go down the queue of patients, writing down some of their names and pointing others to the side of the trailer.
He hung back, erring on the side of not wanting to interrupt her at work. It gave him a chance to look at her, too, which was a sweet pleasure in itself. She was golden and bright, her smile constant and her gaze kind. He found himself imagining the shape of her body beneath her scrubs. High, round breasts, a long, slim torso. Limbs that might fly like the wind. Did she run? Hike? Climb? Camp? He had so many questions for Jenna the Midwife.
And when she straightened up and looked around, as if she could maybe feel his attention, he couldn’t help but move toward her.
She had a smile for him too.
So damn bright.
“We meet again,” he said as he stopped beside her.
“I see you weren’t kidding about the daily run.”
“Nope. It’s more than a hobby for me.”
“Do you race?”
“Yeah.” Although that had obviously taken a backseat in the last three months. He’d done two triathlons in the fall during work-up training, but since arriving in the sandbox he’d been limited to laps around the base. This wasn’t much different, really. A different kind of noise and congestion. He longed to take off into the desert, but he wasn’t that reckless, not even in an allied country.
He gestured to the trailer. “This is interesting. Is it like a walk-in clinic?”
She nodded and gestured for him to follow her inside. She made her way to the back, where she pulled a cardboard box off the shelf. She set it on the counter and flashed him a quick grin. “In the morning we come out here to do non-emergent care at these clinics. It reduces the number of people queuing at the gate to the hospital.” She opened the box, revealing a neat collection of wrapped bundles. “And sometimes we hand out routine supplies. Do you want to help?”
He picked one up. “Definitely. What are we handing out today?”
“Sanitary napkins.”
She said it deliberately cool, like it was no big deal—which was true, it wasn’t. Sean didn’t care that he was hol
ding pads, and not just because he wanted to impress a midwife. Although he did want to impress her. No point pretending otherwise. “One bundle per person in line?”
She grinned. “One per woman. You can give them to the girls, too, even if you aren’t sure they’re old enough to need them.”
“Got it.”
“If you’d rather, you can carry this and a nurse can hand them out.”
He picked up the entire box. “I’m good. Unless you think they’d rather receive them from a woman?”
She shook her head. “It’s fine.” Her gaze lingered on his face as her expression softened and bloomed into something else. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do,” he said, and he meant it. He didn’t want her to think this small decency was a big deal for him. He wanted to impress her with big things. And yet the look on her face made him greedy and ready to accept the unearned praise.
The line outside the trailer was shorter now, but as soon as he started handing out the bundles, it grew again, like a whisper had skittered through the camp that supplies were being handed out.
“Lil nisa,” he said in rough Arabic. For women.
The bundles flew out of his hands. Mothers sometimes took two, handing one off to a daughter.
One young woman, a girl really, reminded him of Dani, his best friend growing up and now his sister-in-law. Long, coltish limbs, wavy dark hair. A fierce expression on her face. She pushed forward, taking a bundle almost roughly from him and he wanted to tell her he got it—he was sorry she couldn’t go to the drugstore on her own, or get supplies from a mother or sister or friend.
He had a flashback to Dani getting her period in grade nine and hiding in the bathroom on the second floor of the high school. The teacher, thinking Dani was upset, sent Sean after her. His friend had been mortified when he’d insisted she tell him why she was hiding, and when she finally confessed that she needed a pad, he’d almost died.
But then he’d gone to the office and told the secretary what Dani needed, and where, because that’s what friends were for.
Friends also never brought up moments like that ever again, and he hadn’t remembered it in years. Now it flashed through him like a physical memory. There was nothing impressive about embarrassing a young woman, so Sean let the Syrian woman glare at him. And then as quickly as she appeared, she was gone again.
“All done?”
He turned and held out the empty box. “Yep.”
Jenna took it then waved at the nurse in the doorway of the clinic. “I’m done here. I need to get back to the hospital.”
“Can I walk you?”
She blushed. “Of course.”
“I could carry the box back.”
She shook her head. “I’m not bringing it….” She trailed off as they rounded the corner then she pointed up ahead to where a group of children were playing. “I think they’d like to turn it into a car or a space ship or something.”
Again he was struck with a memory—him and his brothers playing in the boxes after Christmas, and his father grumbling that he should have saved his money on the toys that came inside them.
He shoved that away, too.
When they neared the kids, she waved, and they came running. She handed over the box as they shyly looked at Sean.
Strange man with their friend, maybe. Strange man in general.
He carefully dropped into a low squat and smiled. Up to them if they wanted to interact with him more than that.
He got some giggles then they took off with the box.
“How many children are here?” he asked as he straightened up again.
Jenna shoved her hands into her pockets. “A thousand, give or take.”
More than half the population of the camp. “And more are born every day?”
She gave him a sharp look. “Some. Not many. Don’t judge them for that.”
He held up his hands. “I’m not, promise.” The military-NGO relationship was a difficult one at times. Aid organizations needed to be neutral, always, in order to be granted safe passage—or as safe as possible—by both sides. But damn it, he was one of the good guys. “I was just wondering. I didn’t get a thorough briefing on the camp. It’s new, right?”
She nodded and gave him a small smile. “People have been here for a year at least, but NATO provided the protected space and peacekeepers six months ago.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Four months.”
“Where were you before?”
“The greater Vancouver area. That’s where I’m from. Never left home before this, so…culture shock. I’m learning a lot.”
He nodded. “Yeah, this is my first overseas tour, too. I’m halfway through.”
She gave him a surprised look. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“You seem pretty confident.” She dragged in a deep breath. “I’m still sorting out my own thoughts about all of this. It’s endlessly complicated.”
That was the painful truth of it. He nodded solemnly. “We do what we can, though.”
“And yet, it’s never enough.” They approached the gate to the NGO compound. She waved her pass at the guard and Sean dug his ID card out as well. “It was nice to run in to you,” she said once they were through. “And thank you again for the help.”
“My pleasure. I was looking for an excuse to find you.”
She stopped and turned, looking up at him with surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He searched her face. “So it worked out perfectly.”
“And now I need to get back to work,” she sighed, her regret tugging at something deep inside him. “But…”
“But?” He grinned. “I like the sound of but. But has promise.”
She laughed, her cheeks tinging pink. “There’s a…movie night tonight. I think they’re showing Jurassic Park.”
Roaring dinosaurs had serious promise. “That sounds fun.”
“We do what we can.” She shrugged and glanced away, suddenly…shy?
Warmth bloomed in his chest, and he leaned in just enough for her to still hear him as he lowered his voice. “I meant watching a movie with you. That sounds like a lot of fun to me.”
She looked at him and a relieved, pleased smile burst across her face. “To me too.”
Damn. That twenty-four hour clock was ticking pretty loud in his head. A refugee camp was no place to tumble headlong into an infatuation, but what did he know about the right time and place for such a thing? His life plan had been for this to never happen.
Ha. Joke was on him, clearly.
He cleared his throat. “So, what time is the movie tonight?”
“Seven thirty.” She gave him directions, and promised to meet him there as soon as she could. “Sometimes things come up at the hospital, but it looks like it’s going to be a quiet night. Relatively speaking.”
THE COMMONS TENT was located behind the hospital, and served as a communal living room—with rugs on the ground instead of couches. There was a microwave which someone was using to make popcorn, and two hot plates on which another ex-pat was making Turkish-style coffee. A makeshift screen and a laptop hooked up to a projector completed the theatre set up. A dozen accents filled the space as people joked and laughed. Italians, Americans, Australians…
And then the netting covering the doorway swung wide, and in stepped the Canadian he’d been looking for.
Jenna the Midwife had changed after her shift.
Sean had liked her hair pulled up in a ponytail, with those long strands of honey-gold silk trailing over her cheeks, just begging to be rubbed between his fingers. And he’d like the way she looked in a scrub shirt, too.
But now her hair hung loose in long, damp waves down her back, and she’d changed into fitted jeans and a soft scooped-neck t-shirt. She looked feminine and touchable, but he didn’t miss the tired shadows behind her eyes.
He grabbed two cups of Turkish coffee and made his way to where she stood just insid
e the tent entrance.
“Long day,” he said quietly, holding out one of the cups. Not a question. He knew better than that.
“Three new babies came into the world today.” She smiled as she wrapped her hands around the mug, and her fingers brushed his for a second. The cool slide of her skin against his was nice. Really nice. Want-more-of-that kind of nice.
“I bet that never gets old.”
“Never.” She said it softly, reverently. “It’s worth every second of lost sleep.”
“And tonight? Is it busy?”
She shook her head. “And I’m hoping it stays quiet.”
He lifted his coffee cup. “Here’s to hoping. I’m really looking forward to watching a movie with you.”
“It’s not the most exciting thing to do.”
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” And he meant it.
She laughed gently. “Nowhere?”
“Not even a beach in the south of Spain.”
Another laugh, this one a rich, ringing peal, and her gaze caught and held his. “Liar. Is that where you’re headed?”
He nodded. “I’ve got a few weeks of leave. I ended up staying here instead of just catching a transport plane out because of the PM’s visit tomorrow.”
“Your loss is our gain.”
“I’m not complaining, I promise.” He gestured to the makeshift viewing area. “Do you have a favourite spot on the carpet for movie night?”
Her cheeks turned pink as she shook her head. “Wherever you’d like.”
They settled on the back corner of the rug closest to the entrance, and at seven thirty right on the dot, they killed the overhead light and started the movie.
It had been years since Sean had sat in the dark and felt his heart pound in anticipation because of a girl. Jenna was no girl, but this still took him back to high school. To clammy hands and wondering if real girls were anything like the secret pictures he’d seen in magazines one finds in a house filled with testosterone.
Now he wondered what Jenna was like. No comparison, just faint whispers of things he’d be happy to do with her if circumstances were different.
