Lucky Daddy

by Eva Luxe

  They’ll definitely be happy to see me, but excited wouldn’t be the word I’d use. Surprised would be more apt.

  The three of us board the bus once it arrives and sit close to each other. Once the bus gets going, I unpin the plates and start chowing down. The lady and Jenny watch me with the most heartwarming and heartwarmed expressions on their faces.

  Jenny looks as though she’s watching Santa chowing down on some cookies and milk she left out for him. Her mother doesn’t look much different.

  Since the bus isn’t too populated, Jenny and her mother, whose name she tells me is Veronica, get to chat a bit more, although Jenny falls asleep shortly after I finish eating.

  They’re on their way to a place that’s a few towns past Marysville. Veronica is moving in with her sister after she split with her abusive husband.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t be. I’m happy to have had the courage to leave and I’m lucky that Jenny is… safe. She’s not even upset that we’re moving away from her dad.”

  “Why’s that, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “She was unfortunately a witness to how horribly he treated me. He even… hit her a few times. I’m sure she’s hiding a lot of her true feelings, but she’s been great so far. Sorry. This is a lot to dump on a stranger,” she says, wiping away some tears that haven’t yet spilled over her eyelids.

  “No, no, no, please don’t apologize. You and I are in a very similar boat. We’re both starting new lives after spending more time than we wanted in a sort of hell.”

  Veronica nods her head and swallows some sadness.

  “I’ve got my sister and a whole lot of family waiting for me. What’s waiting in Marysville for you?”

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “My folks. I haven’t seen them in a decade. I mean, I’ve Skyped with them and I was able to visit them a few years back for the holidays but… that visit was so short I felt like I wasn’t even really there.”

  “Anybody else? Anyone you’ve been dying to see in your old town?”

  “My dog, Plato. My old stomping grounds. And… I have to see… someone important.”

  “A girlfriend?” Veronica asks with a curious smile.

  I let out a short laugh. “I wish. No. Just someone I promised I’d see once I came back.”

  “So, you wish she was your girlfriend?”

  Seems as though Veronica is quite the sleuth. She’s backed me into a corner here.

  Without giving her a straightforward answer, I shrug and share a very telling smile. Veronica smiles and taps my knee a few times.

  “Good luck then, Soldier. Maybe you can make some magic happen. There’s very little that’s more attractive than a military man. I’m sure you can win her over,” she says.

  “She’s another person I’ve only seen through a screen for the past 10 years. Aside from what she looks like, and a few tidbits she’s shared during our sporadic chats over the years, I don’t know anything about her life anymore. She could be dating someone. I’m not going to hold my breath,” I admit.

  Veronica cackles but catches herself from being too loud when Jenny fusses. “Oh, boy, look at your face. You are head over heels for this mystery girl. You better try to get with her, for your own sake. If she can make you smile just by looking at her, imagine how happy you’d be if she was by your side every day.”

  It’s a nice thought. But there are a few things keeping us apart. It used to just be the many miles between us but now it’s… a lot more complicated.

  “We’ll see what happens, I suppose.”

  Veronica leans over to me and extends her pinky out to me.

  “Let’s make a deal, Soldier. I’ll keep my Jenny safe from creeps like her father for as long as I live, and you make a real attempt to be with— what’s her name?”

  “Sommer.”

  “Sommer, then. Do we have a deal?”

  We lock pinkies.

  “Good thing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have kept Jenny safe,” Veronica jokes.

  This gets a good laugh out of me— a loud guffaw that wakes up Jenny.

  Groggily, she looks up at us and asks what we’re laughing at.

  “Nothing important, honey,” her mother tells her. “Just a joke. Now go back to sleep.”

  She brushes her hair with her hand in a very nurturing manner that makes me smile and feel nostalgic for my own youth, when I had parents keeping me safe, and only woke up to sounds of laughter rather than gunfire.

  The bus stops at Marysville to drop some passengers off. I stand up from my seat and thank Veronica for her company.

  “No problem, uh… Wow. This whole time, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Rhett. Sergeant Rhett Atkins. But just call me Rhett.”

  I turn away to hop off the bus, but Veronica grabs me by my shoulder and hands me a crumpled-up piece of paper.

  “I expect an update on the Sommer situation, Mr. Sergeant.”

  I open the paper and see her phone number.

  “You got it, Veronica. Bye-bye, Jenny!”

  The child smiles at me from her mother’s lap. She’s now already halfway back to sleep.

  The surly bus driver lets out a frustrated sigh once I hop off the bus and take a long, hard look at the town I left behind so long ago.

  Chapter 3 - Rhett

  Marysville hasn’t changed very much. It’s a place stuck in time. The people have changed. I see a lot of men sporting man buns and unruly beards, a lot of shops replaced by Starbucks, and some parking spots for electric cars.

  Having been overseas for the better part of my adult life, coming back to the modern United States has me feeling like a time traveler. Sure, we had phones and laptops, but there’s so much that is new to me. Politics, movies, pop culture in general. Even something as unimportant as fashion.

  Back in high school, I thought only the more effeminate guys wore tight pants, but now everyone seems to be wearing them. There are billboards advertising products I’ve never even heard of, or sequels to movies that came out when I was a kid. Christian Bale isn’t Batman anymore, but Robert Downey Jr. is still making movies as Iron Man. There’s so much I need to catch up on.

  Before I can continue thinking about how life in Marysville and the rest of the world has changed since my military absence, I feel someone tap me on the shoulder.

  “Rhett. Holy moly, me oh my, is that you?”

  I spin around to see that behind me stands an old friend of mine from high school. I could recognize her by her accent alone, but having to look about a foot down from my eyeline confirms her identity.

  Amanda Seflinger. She’s still as tiny as she was back when she used to let me copy her homework. The years have been kind to her. She’s dropped her comically large glasses for some reserved and stylish half-moon lens glasses.

  Her confidence has definitely improved, as she’s replaced oversized hoodies and baggy jeans with some more complementary sundress covered by a form-fitting cardigan. Her face hasn’t changed a bit though.

  “It’s me,” I confirm, with some unenthusiastic jazz hands.

  She jumps up to give me a hug.

  “You war dog, look at you. If it weren’t for those sparkling brown eyes of yours that I’d recognize anywhere, I’d have just taken you as some stranger visiting our humble little town. Look at you, you’re a whole ‘nother person. You look good, though. And wow. You’re back home! My goodness, I have so many questions!”

  “Ask away.”

  “How many of them terrorists d’ya kill? Did you get shot at a lot? Did—”

  I cut her short. “I thought you were gonna ask about me and—”

  “These questions are about you. You were the one over there keeping us safe.”

  “Right,” I say, defeated. I want to tell her that the last thing I want to talk about is the place I just left. Instead, I hug her and thank her for the warm welcome.

  I’m not prepared to answer
her barrage of questions. The welcome wagon doesn’t end with Amanda, though. Old neighbors and classmates stop me to ask me tasteless questions about my time away. If I got to shoot my gun often, or ride a tank, or put down any “high level terrorists.” If I ever saw anybody die…

  Nothing I want to answer.

  I appreciate the thought behind their excitement, but they don’t seem to get that war isn’t something I did for trophies to brag about. It has its dark scary parts that I would only want to share intimately with people close to me— not talk about in the town square to people who are now practically strangers to me.

  Still, in order to not ruffle any feathers, I answer whatever questions I can bring myself to answer, and thank everyone who salutes me as they pass me by. I know there’s a question they’re all dying to ask me. Thankfully, I’m able to get through the town without some inconsiderate fool bringing up the topic.

  Part two of my trip home ends as soon as I walk out of town lines and towards the long stretch of road to my folks’ place. Four miles on foot seems like a lot, but it’ll be good exercise. Especially after all the delicious fried chicken I had.

  As I walk down the road, I think of how I’d answer the question I’ve been avoiding for months now. Can I even bring myself to talk about it? For better or worse, I’m brought face to face with this conflict as soon as it appears in my head.

  A startling honk from a truck stops me in my tracks. The truck drives past me and into a truck stop I was heading towards. The driver steps out of the large machine and walks towards me.

  I’ve done nothing in my knowledge to offend the guy, but I’m trained to take down an aggressor. If he’s looking to fight, I hope he’s not looking to win.

  “Yo, Rhett!”

  The driver’s gravelly voice is new to me. But the man waves me over with a beaming smile.

  “I was just in town and heard you were back. Figured you’re going up to see your Ma and Pops. Need a ride?”

  Once I approach him, I recognize the man. Another former classmate. The leader of the friend group Kyle and I were in since middle school, but… he’s definitely been affected by the years.

  His voice has clearly been changed by the Marlboro cigarettes sticking out of his denim jacket front pocket. He looks about a hundred pounds thinner, and aged more than he should be. Smoking does that to a person.

  “Donny. It’s been a while,” I say wearily.

  “No shit, Captain America,” he screams joyously as he brings me in for a quick, harsh hug. “Ya son of a bitch, look at you. Now, you look like the boss.”

  “Please, as if I could ever usurp you as leader of our group back in school,” I joke.

  “Usurp?”

  “Never mind. Would you mind giving me a ride up to—”

  “Shit no, I already told you that’s why I stopped. Get on up there,” he shouts.

  The two of us sit in silence as we drive through the long stretch of road. It’s a comfortable silence. One we often shared.

  Donny was the first in our friend group to get a license, so he’d often take me, Kyle, Sharla, and Mason on midnight rides. We’d do nothing but sit in the car until we found a place far enough from town to look up at the stars through the sunroof.

  “Say, how are Sharla and Mason these days?” I ask, now that they’re on my mind.

  Donny chuckles knowingly. “Well, Sharla is married to one handsome dog. A truck driver known for his charm and eel-oquence,” he says.

  “You and Sharla?” I gasp. “Seriously?”

  “Yessir. And we got a bun in the oven,” he snickers.

  “Congratulations, Donny! To you, at least. My condolences to Sharla, though.”

  The two of us laugh riotously, just as we did when we were kids. Donny seems smitten with Sharla, grinning ear to ear whenever he says her name, and laughing uncontrollably when he mentions his unborn child.

  “What about Mason?” I ask.

  “Mason’s around. Believe it or not, he’s a teacher now. Stick-n-poke tats and all.”

  Another cackle escapes from me. “Mason?! A teacher?! Holy shit, am I in The Twilight Zone? That is insane.”

  Donny shrugs. “He’s still Mason. Anti-authority, anti-religion, anti-haircuts, anti-everything. But he needs a job to support his anti-lifestyle.”

  “I guess so,” I laugh. “Man, we should all get together sometime.”

  “Hell yeah, boy!”

  A silence falls over us. Not a comfortable one this time.

  “Won’t be the same though,” Donny finally says.

  I shake my head slowly. “It won’t.”

  We continue to exist in more silence before it’s broken by Donny again. “Were you there when Kyle—”

  “Yeah. I was.”

  He nods. “Good. At least he wasn’t alone when—”

  “Yeah.”

  “…Yeah. You know, his sister works in town. Still lives in the same place, too, if you want to see her before I drop you off at your folks’ place.”

  “No,” I exclaim. “I’ll… I’ll see her sometime this week. I just want to go home and get some rest. Fourteen hour flight’ll kill you,” I say, trying to muster a smile.

  Donny nods his head and continues driving. We partake in some small talk before he stops the truck at the foot of my parent’s property. I thank him for the ride and am sure this’ll be the last I see of him after making things so uncomfortable by avoiding talking about Kyle.

  “Hey,” Donny shouts from the truck, “I don’t know about you, but I was serious about getting together sometime. You, Me, Sharla, and Mason.”

  “Right on,” I shout back. “Let’s make it happen. You know where I live.”

  Despite his crass demeanor, Donny is still Donny. Everyone is still their old selves, it seems. I hope the same can be said for Sommer. But that’s something I’ll have to investigate later this week. Right now, there’s an old canine slowly making his way over to me.

  Amazing that at thirteen years old and after all this time, Plato can still smell me coming from half a mile away. He’s going as quickly as his old bones can carry him, but in order to keep him from straining himself, I fasten my duffle bag onto my back and run as quickly as possible to my old pup.

  When I’m just a few feet away, Plato jumps on his hind legs and lets out a booming bark. He sniffs me incessantly and licks me as he does so. He recognized me the second I set foot on the property, but now that he’s able to sniff me and lick me, he wags his tail crazily, and lies down on his back to get properly rubbed.

  “How are ya, boy? Been a good boy?”

  Plato barks happily.

  “Thanks for sticking around, Plato. I told you I’d be back.”

  I fight the tears coming up on me, which is nearly fucking impossible when Plato starts licking my face and howling. He wags his tails so hard that his entire body shakes from left to right. His age means nothing to him right now. As soon as I started rubbing his stomach, he reverted back to the three year old pup I knew.

  “Come on, boy. Let’s go surprise the folks, yeah?”

  Two more barks from Plato confirm our plan. I pick up Plato with both arms and hold him like the baby he thinks he is while I walk us to the house. The entire way, he licks the tears pouring from my face.

  Plato barks again when I step on the porch to alert my folks someone has arrived.

  “Alright, boy, I’m comin’,” I hear a worn voice say. “Rhett. My God.”

  Not a second passes before tears are streaming down my dad’s face. He runs over and knocks down the duffle bag off me to give me a full and proper hug.

  “Susan, get down here!” he bellows. “Rhett’s home!”

  I hear the footsteps that are much too quick for a woman her age to be making. “Rhett? Rhett!”

  My mom runs down the stairs and screams as loud as she can before joining in on the hug. Even Plato runs back for some more affection, jumping up and down on the three of us while barking as loud as he can.


  “What in the world are you doing here, Rhett?” my mother asks.

  “I’m home. I was honorably discharged and… I’m here,” I tell them.

  My dad slaps his meaty hand on my arm. “Well, why didn’t you tell us? We haven’t heard from you since you got out of the hospital over there.”

  “I thought you two would like the surprise. And honestly, they kind of had us in the dark on when we’d be getting on the plane back to the US until the day of, and by then I figured it might be best to give you two a little shock.”

  Ma pinches my arm in the same spot my dad had just smacked me.

  “You jerk. God, I’m so happy to have you here. Jesus, Rhett. You’re home.”

  “Is my room still up there?” I ask.

  “Of course. We haven’t touched a thing,” my dad tells me.

  I go upstairs to my room, tailed by Plato, and find that Pops wasn’t exaggerating. Not a single thing seems to have been moved since I left. It’s been cleaned but everything is just as I last saw it.

  None of these clothes would fit me anymore. My computer is outdated as hell. Maybe I should have let my parents know it was okay to get rid of some of this old stuff. Not that I don’t appreciate their nostalgia, or their respect for my privacy.

  From my bed, I look around and many memories I have formed in here flash through my min.: Watching scary movies with Kyle and his sister. Stuffing clothes under my blanket and sneaking out to go on those night time drives with Donny and the crew.

  “It certainly has been a while, huh, Plato?” He stares at me blankly and then curls up at my feet. “I wonder how often I’ll be saying that from now on.”

  I unpack my duffle bag and am slowly reminded of the years I spent at war. I’ve earned medals, but they feel empty when I think of some of the things I’ve lost. All the memories I made are tainted by the death of my best friend. This duffle bag contains just my uniform, underwear, and bad memories.

  That’s all I have to show for the past ten years.

  I sit back down on my bed and hear something crinkle. It’s the note in my back pocket.

  Veronica Berhow

  410-555-0893

  Don’t forget, we pinky promised!

  She’s right. We did promise. But I can’t just go down and face Sommer. Coming back home has been hard enough as it is, but now I have to fulfill my best friend’s dying wishes. It’s something I have to do, but it’s not something I can just fucking do right now.