A Soldier's Song

by Irene Onorato

  “But, Dex, how could you be sure your father had any involvement in those things?” Surely he could be wrong.

  “I came home one day to find my parents arguing in my dad’s office. The door was ajar, and they didn’t know I was listening. One minute my mother was crying, the next, screaming, ‘How could you do this to him?’ I heard enough to know my dad had paid a lot of money to various individuals to ensure I would never get into The Academy.”

  “But why would he do that? West Point is a prestigious school. What parent wouldn’t be proud of their son or daughter for attending?” It boggled her mind. “My dad and my grandfather are graduates. The whole family couldn’t be prouder of them.”

  “My father doesn’t see the military as a worthy career. According to him, it’s a fine choice for people who aren’t intelligent or capable enough to pursue a more meaningful line of work, but certainly beneath anyone who could do better.”

  She couldn’t imagine anyone actually feeling that way about any branch of the armed forces. “Did you confront your father? Try to reason with him?”

  “Confront, yes, but there could be no reasoning with a tyrannical parent who had no regard for my hopes and dreams. He told me I was going back to Harvard and that there wasn’t going to be any further discussion about it.”

  “Oh, my. So what did you do?”

  “Packed some things, left, and came over here. I worked with my grandfather for a few months until I turned eighteen, and then joined the army. Can’t say I’ve regretted a single day of service.” Dex got up and walked toward her. “And there you have it. Not the whole scoop, but hopefully enough for you to see why my father and I don’t get along.”

  “Thanks for opening up and sharing this with me. I know it was highly personal, and hurtful.” Aria set her cup on the desk, rose into Dex’s arms, and took her time kissing him.

  “Cocoa kisses. Nice.” Dex licked his lips. “Can I have seconds?”

  “And thirds.” She kissed him again.

  * * * *

  “Play something for us, Dex.” Aria scooted over on the piano bench and invited Dex to sit. He had alluded to not being able to play well when she’d met him at the wedding, but doubted the validity of his statement.

  Cracking his knuckles, Dex sat beside her, then stretched out his arms, and wiggled his fingers. “Okay, here goes nothin’.” He lowered his hands toward the keys.

  Aria grabbed Dex’s wrist. “If you play ‘Chopsticks’ or ‘Heart and Soul,’ I will absolutely kill you and tell God you died.” Keeping a straight face wasn’t easy.

  “Yes, ma’am. In that case, what would you like me to play?”

  “I don’t know. Surprise me. Play… Hmm. Something from the heart.”

  “All right. I’ll do my best, but you’re going to have to put up with some clinkers. I’m not the virtuoso you are.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that, Sergeant.”

  Pop gave Aria a smile as he lowered himself onto his favorite living room chair. “That’s it, Aria. Crack the whip on that boy.”

  Dex ran an A-flat scale forward and back, paused, and began playing “A Soldier’s Song.”

  Tears blurred Aria’s vision. Of all the songs Dex could have played, he picked hers. His simplified version touched her heart. She used the neckline of her top to blot the corners of her eyes and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  “Play with me.” Dex nudged with his elbow. “I need help transitioning to the chorus.”

  She joined in, playing the lower keys, and matching his tempo. “Okay, here we go. One, two, ready, modulate.”

  Minutes later, Pop clapped as they finished playing. “That was great. Jason tinkered with the melody this morning before you came over. Said you wrote that piece. Is that right?”

  “Yes, I wrote it. I’m having trouble putting lyrics to it though. I’ve written words and phrases, but trying to make them fit seems as futile as shaking a box of puzzle pieces and hoping a picture will miraculously appear.”

  “Maybe it isn’t meant to have words, kind of like Beethoven’s fifth or Tchaikovsky’s William Tell Overture.”

  “Forgive me for correcting you, Pop,” Aria said. “But I believe you have your overtures mixed up.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “Tchaikovsky wrote the 1812 Overture, you know, the one with the canons. Rossini wrote William Tell.”

  “You’re quite right. I did get them mixed up.” Pop’s smile pushed his cheeks into mounds. “She’s a keeper, this one is.”

  “I agree.” Adoration poured from Dex’s steady gaze. “She’s definitely a keeper.”

  * * * *

  It didn’t matter that it was almost midnight. Aria couldn’t sleep. She threw off the covers, sat up, and pulled her laptop off the nightstand. As she opened the lid, the screen came to life and lit the area around her. Facebook loaded with a few pecks of the keyboard. Moments later, Libby popped up with a hello on a chat screen.

  Hi, Lib. I see you’re still up.

  Part vampire. Just getting ready to go bite some necks. ’Sup?

  Spent glorious day with Dex.

  More. Tell me everything. Talk or type?

  Talk. I’ll take my phone into the bathroom so I don’t wake my parents. Call you in a sec.

  Libby picked up on the first ring. “So, tell me about this glorious day.”

  “We went sledding among other things.”

  “Other things? Like making out?”

  “Yes, lots of that. In the snow, in the barn, and in the—”

  “Bedroom?”

  “Lib! I was going to say kitchen.” Although they had kissed rather passionately in his bedroom, standing with the door open, nowhere near the bed. “You know I wouldn’t—”

  “Yeah, I know, and I respect that. I was just getting a rise out of you.” Libby laughed. “Gotcha.”

  It was no secret that Libby’s boyfriend spent the night with her now and then. Still, Libby was her best friend despite differing opinions and beliefs on the subject.

  Sitting on the bathroom vanity, feet dangling, Aria laid out her day from the time Dex picked her up in Pop’s pickup until the moment he kissed her good night. It couldn’t have been a better day. “Libby, I need to say something. Out loud. My own ears need to hear me say it so there’s no taking it back.”

  “I already know what it is, girlfriend. It’s ingrained in every word you say when you speak about him. And I’m glad you’re finally going to let yourself say it.”

  “I love him, Libby. I love Jason Dexter with all my heart.”

  Chapter 16

  Dex descended the stairs and snatched his jacket from the living room coat closet.

  “Where are you off to so early?” Pop stood by the fireplace, ready to add a split log to the flames.

  “I’ve got Aria’s car today. She loaned it to me so you and I can drop your truck off at the muffler shop later this morning. Remember?”

  “I thought we were doing that on Thursday.”

  “Today is Thursday.” And the days with Aria were passing much too quickly.

  Pop squinted at his wristwatch. “I’ll be darned. You’re right. I swear, if my head wasn’t screwed on—” He dropped the wood back on the rack. “What time was the appointment again?”

  “Ten. No rush on that, Pop. We’ve got plenty of time, but right now I’ve got to get Aria to work.”

  “Couldn’t one of her parents have taken her?”

  “I’m sure they could have, but she and I are stopping for a quick breakfast on the way to the music shop.”

  “Can’t get enough of that girl, can you?”

  Dex grinned. Pop was right about that. “See you in a little while.”

  As soon as Dex turned into the Greco driveway, Aria burst outside and hurried to the passenger door before he could jump out and
open it for her.

  “Hi.” Aria dropped her purse on the floorboard, leaned across the console, and kissed him. “Good morning, handsome.”

  “Good morning. Where would you like to have breakfast?”

  “McDonald’s.”

  Definitely not on the list of answers he’d hoped for.

  “I know you’re not crazy about fast food, but it’s on the way to the shop, and I’m craving their pancakes. You don’t mind, do you?” Aria put on a playful, pouty-lip face.

  “They do make good pancakes. I’ll give you that. Their coffee isn’t bad either. You’re on.” He drove to the restaurant.

  Dexter paid the McDonald’s counter clerk and carried their tray to the table. He had to admit, they delivered the goods in record time and his rumbling stomach was eager to dig in.

  “Here you go.” Dex placed their food down and pushed the tray aside. He started to take the lid off his container of sausage, egg, and pancakes, but stopped and folded his arms on the edge of the table.

  Aria looked at him, her head tipped to the side in an inquisitive gesture. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I was just giving you a moment to say grace. You always do that little silent, covert thing with your eyes closed for a second before you eat, and it just dawned on me that it was your way of saying a prayer before your meal.” How stupid he’d been for that revelation to take so long to register.

  “I thought I was doing it under the radar, but I see you did notice.” A tinge of pink blushed across her cheeks.

  “The fact that you’ve felt the need to fly under my radar gives me the impression that I somehow intimidate you, and I don’t ever want you to feel that way.”

  Aria reached for his hand and bowed her head. “Thank you, God, not only for our food, but for bringing Dex into my life. Amen.”

  “Amen. If God was involved at all with our paths colliding, then I’m thankful to Him for that too.” Dex flipped the lid off his container and started eating.

  “We’ve never discussed spiritual things.” Aria poured syrup over her pancakes. “I’m not quite sure how to broach the subject.”

  “If you want to know if I believe in God, yes, I do. It’s just hard for me to grasp the whole loving, heavenly Father thing when my own dad can’t seem to stand me.” Sipping his coffee gave him a few moments to gather his thoughts. “I dunno. Maybe that’s a paradox I’m supposed to accept without having to fully understand.”

  “Maybe so. Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Aria said, dabbing syrup off her lips. “Would you like to go to an early-morning church service with me and my family on Christmas day? It’ll be short. An hour at best.”

  “I’ll think about it. We’d better eat. Wouldn’t want you to be late for work.”

  * * * *

  Aria finished ringing up a sale and handed two full shopping bags to a smiling middle-aged man. “Merry Christmas, sir, and I hope you come visit us again.”

  “Oh, I will, I will. You’ve been very helpful. Thanks, and merry Christmas to you too.”

  Uncle Angelo came around the counter and rubbed between Aria’s shoulder blades. “It’s after one and you haven’t even stopped for lunch. Go in the back and take yourself at least an hour’s break. Christine and I can handle everything out here.”

  “Thanks, it would be nice to get off my feet for a while.” Aria went to the breakroom and ate the sandwich and chocolate milk she’d brought for lunch. Less than four hours to go, and she’d see Dex again.

  The phone in her back pocket rang as she tossed her trash in the can. Professor Jacobs. “Hello, Professor.”

  “Hello, Aria. I’ve only got a minute, so I have to make this quick. Would it be possible for us to meet next week so we can talk about music selection for the audition and maybe do a quick run-through of a piece or two?”

  His offer, kind as it was, couldn’t have come at a worse time. “I have company from out of town, and—”

  “I understand. Bad timing. Tell you what. Why don’t you check with your guests and see if you can get away for an hour and a half next Thursday night at seven? I’ll text you the address in a few minutes. If you can’t make it, give me a call.”

  “All right. That sounds like it could work.”

  “Good. Sorry, but I have to run. Have a pleasant afternoon.” The line went silent.

  Having the music she’d need well in advance of the audition would be great. Surely she could squeeze an hour and a half out of her schedule with Dex.

  Aria sat at the small table and put her feet up on another chair. Her palms moistened just thinking about the prospect of auditioning in front of Anton Bianchi. How would she ever get through it in real life?

  The hour break left her feeling refreshed. Aria rose and went back to work.

  “Can I help you find something?” She walked down an aisle toward a uniformed policeman.

  Handsome in a rugged way with a well-defined jaw and slight five o’clock shadow, he looked up from the hanging guitar straps he’d been thumbing through and smiled. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I was looking for a leather guitar strap, and—oh, here’s one that’ll do.” He carefully unhooked one from the middle of the display. “And I also need a set of medium acoustic guitar strings. Martin brand, preferably.”

  “Sure, I can help with that. We keep them behind the counter. They seem to grow legs and walk out of the store if we don’t, if you know what I mean.”

  “I understand. Small stuff like that is easy to steal.” Cute Cop smiled and followed her to the glass case. “What the heck. Give me two sets. Might as well have a backup.”

  Aria placed two sets of strings on the glass counter. “Anything else for you today besides the strings and strap?”

  He tapped the glass, pointing to the shelf below where guitar picks were sorted into small bins. “Know what, throw in a mix of half a dozen soft and medium picks. I’m forever losing or breaking those buggers.”

  “Sure, here you go. I’ll let you choose the size and shapes you’d like.” She pulled out two containers and set them on the top of the glass counter.

  “Did you find what you were looking for, Greg?” Heels clicked on the terrazzo floor. Tall and beautiful, hips swaying, Jasmine approached then stopped and linked her suede-jacketed arm around the police officer’s elbow. Chin slightly elevated, she looked across the counter at Aria, a smug smiling teasing her lips. “Well, hello.”

  Greg looked from one to the other. “You two know each other?”

  Jasmine regarded him with as much attention as someone would give a petty annoyance. “We have a mutual acquaintance. Sorry, but I seem to have forgotten your name.” An air of superiority hid behind her upturned lips. She knew full well that Dex had never breathed Aria’s name when the three converged in Middleton’s Market weeks ago.

  Aria met Jasmine’s icy stare. How nice it would be to haul back and slap the arrogance right off the redhead’s perfectly symmetrical, unblemished face. “It’s Aria. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No.” Behind Jasmine’s evil eyes, wheels turned. Her gaze ran up and down Aria as if sizing her up. “Are you ready to go, Greg?”

  “Just a sec. I’ve got to pay for this stuff.” Greg handed Aria a credit card. “Here you go.”

  Transaction complete, Aria gave the officer his receipt and managed a smile. “Thank you for shopping with us today.”

  “Goodbye, Aria.” Jasmine’s dripping, sarcastic tone partnered well with her small smirk. Judging by her expression, what she really meant to say was closer to “drop dead.”

  The bell over the door jingled as Jasmine exited with her policeman boyfriend.

  A strange chill ran down Aria’s spine. She suspected she hadn’t seen the last of her rival—real or imagined.

  * * * *

  A bell tinkled over Dex’s head as
he entered the music store, and the sound of Aria’s voice immediately carried over from somewhere on his right. He followed it to the acoustic guitar section and pretended to browse at the selection of instruments hanging on the wall display.

  “Will this be your son’s first guitar?” Aria smiled at a fortyish man, her stance polite, polished, and every bit professional.

  “Yes, it will. Do you have any recommendations?”

  The man’s preteen clone looked up at Aria. “I really want an electric guitar.”

  “Son,” the father said, “if you get an electric guitar, then you’re going to need an amp. Have a little pity on your old man’s wallet.”

  A wave of disappointment crossed junior’s face. “Yes, sir.”

  Aria’s gaze met Dex’s, her smile momentarily changing to something more personal and friendly. “Hi. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

  “No hurry. Take your time.” Watching Aria do her job could be interesting.

  Aria stepped closer to the boy. “What if you could have the best of both worlds?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She walked a few paces, pulled a guitar from its wall hanger, and went back to the kid. “This is a great guitar for a beginner, and it’s the perfect size for you. The action is low, which means the strings are close to the frets, making it easy to play. It has nice tonal qualities, it’s beautifully constructed, and, drum roll, please”—Aria turned the instrument neck-side-down and pointed at the jack—“it has a pickup already installed so you can plug it into an amp when you get one.”

  Clone’s eyes lit up. “It is kind of nice looking.”

  Grateful Dad took the guitar, played a few riffs and strummed it awhile. “Do you like it, son?”

  “Yes, sir. I like it a lot.”

  “We’ll take it. I’d also like to buy a case to go with it.”

  Aria pointed at a sign where the guitar had hung on the wall. “The case comes with it. Granted, it’s not the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, but it’ll protect the guitar nonetheless.”