COMING HOME
Book 2
The Wakefield Romance Series
BY:
Theresa Marguerite Hewitt
Published by Theresa Marguerite Hewitt at Smashwords
Copyright ©2013 Theresa Marguerite Hewitt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author
Edited by Genevieve Scholl
Smashwords Edition License Notes
Thank you for downloading/purchasing this ebook. This ebook and its contents are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
This book contains mature content and may not be suitable for those under the age of 17. All characters portrayed in sexual situations are over the age of 18.
To My Readers:
I can not say thank you enough! For everyone who read the preceding "Two Weeks With a SEAL" and reviewed it, whether on Smashwords or Goodreads, THANK YOU! I am very pleased that so many of you enjoyed the first part of Rhea and Chad's journey as much as I enjoyed writing it. I owe all of you a great deal as your words of encouragement have driven my work.
To those girls who have liked my Facebook page, who are married/dating a military man, this ones for you as well. I hope that (I may have at least captured) some of your journey in Rhea's life and I hope you enjoy it.
To my love, CS, thank you. I don't know how I could have been so lucky as to snag a man who will sit there and listen to my ramblings, have me bounce ideas off of, watch video and Military Channel specials with, but somehow I found you and I love you. Ti amo, Christopher, e sara fino alla fine tempo.
To my bestie, SB: Thanks for being awesome. Thanks for taking late night text messages when you have to work early in the morning and for being my beta. You're an un-ending pool of advice, encouragement and criticism when I need it. Thanks chica!
And finally, to those men and women who are serving/have served in the US Military: Thank You! You keep us safe and even though you miss home and family, you soldier on, protecting our freedom. I hope that I've captured some of the feelings you may go through and maybe one or two situations as well. Every single one of us owes you more than you'll ever know, and I just want to share my gratitude for all that you do, and have done. Thank You.
HOOYAH!
CHAPTER ONE:
February 23, 2012
Three and a half weeks after Chad's deployment
Rhea
I let out a strangled kind of sigh as I hold my head in my hands, my elbows propped up on my desk. Heels clicking on concrete pull my eyes to the open office door without too much movement from my head. If I move too much, I'll probably get sick again. "I think you should go home, Rhea," my boss, Jenna, says. Today is a casual day at the Victoria's Secret where I am assistant manager, and, like me, Jenna is in jeans. With her hands on her hips she gives me a concerned look, her brows creasing over her big brown eyes. "Go home and get to the doctor."
"Are you sure?" I ask, feeling the vomit trying to come back up, but I swallow hard to keep it down. I can't make heads or tails of this, because I was perfectly fine when I was getting dressed for work this morning at five o’clock and my drive hadn't been any different. It hit at lunch with cramps and hot flashes. I've thrown up three times so far. Jenna nods her head at me, and I try to smile. "Okay, I'll have Kendall come get me."
She leaves me, telling me to say goodbye before leaving, and I close my eyes, resting my forehead on the cool metal of my desk. My chair creaks with every little movement I make, and the sound is like fingernails on a chalkboard. I wish Chad were here. I know I'd feel better automatically if I could go home to him. It has been three weeks since I watched him walk onto that C-130, my arms wrapped around Rosa, and I have cried every night since. He hasn’t called or Skyped yet and it is killing me. I know; he's a SEAL. I know; he's out there saving people and catching bad guys, doing his country's bidding, but damn do I miss him.
Dana, Chad's mom, has been a great source of strength, occupying me on the weekends when I'm not tending bar at Muncy's, taking me on shopping trips and to afternoon matinees. I am usually exhausted when we return home, and I usually end up camping out in the living room of my empty house until Sunday afternoon when I always help Dana cook our normal weekly dinner. She is going to kill me when I tell her I came home from work sick.
"Ugh," I mutter, rolling my face over and opening my eyes to a picture that sits on my desk.
The scene before me brings a smile to my face, along with some tears. It is of Chad and I, along with Kendall and Harlan. It’s from the night of the bonfire party at Harlan's family farm. All of our arms are linked behind our backs, with the bonfire behind us, and we all look so happy. My head is on Chad's chest, his blue eyes locked on the camera, seemingly reaching out to me even now. I laugh to myself, remembering that right after our friend had taken the picture Chad had swung me around, pulling me close to his chest and kissing me long enough to get whistles and shouts from everyone around. What I wouldn't give right now for him to wrap me in those strong arms of his and kiss me until I feel dizzy.
About twenty minutes later, Kendall sends me a text saying that she's out by my truck. So I slowly pull on my jacket, since it’s only forty degrees out today, and trudge down the hall and lean on the doorway of Jenna's office. She's typing away at her computer, making next week’s schedule.
"I'm outta here," I mumble, trying to give her a smile once more as she peers over her glasses at me.
She nods. "Alright, Hon. Go see the doctor."
"On my way there now." I wave, shuffling through the employee back door, out into the chilly day. It is abnormally cold for a Virginia February day, but the weather hasn't been normal during the winter either. I wave at Kendall who is sitting in her Volkswagen Beetle, parked next to my truck and she smiles.
The car is nice and warm. As I slide in, my best friend gives me a kiss on the cheek. Her blonde hair is falling down around her shoulders and curly, obviously done before she left her job at her mom's salon to come and get me. Her tan is perfect as always and her nails are painted pink with little red hearts.
"Oh Ray," she says, taking my face in her hands, "you don't look good at all."
"I feel like shit." I shrug as she pulls away, weaving through the crammed mall parking lot. "You gotta take me to Doc Young."
She nods, knowing that I must really feel like crap, because normally, I only go to the doctor once a year to refill my birth control prescription. Doctor Becca Young's office is in the next town over from Wakefield, being about forty minutes from my work. I just sigh, too tired and queasy to talk. I lean my head against the cool window, watching the thruway fly by.
Thinking over the last three weeks, I have no idea how I've survived without Chad, but I owe a lot to Kendall, Dana, and Harlan. Harlan and Kendall had moved into my old doublewide about a week ago, keeping most of the furniture I had left behind and agreeing to pay three hundred dollars a month, plus taking care of their own utilities. They have spent a lot of time at my house, though, watching movies and eating dinner with me; sometimes accompanied by Brad Muncy, my manager from the bar, or one of Harlan's little brothers. It is always nice, until they leave and the house is empty again.
Sometimes I sit on the couch for hours. No television, no radio; just silence.
More nights
than not, I sleep in the spare bedroom downstairs off of the staircase, because I am too emotional to sleep in the bed I have shared with Chad. When I do sleep upstairs, just the smell of his pillow brings tears to my eyes. My anger explodes from me as I throw the pillow across the room. My emotions always get the best of me. I climb out of bed and, still sobbing, pick up the pillow, hug it tightly to my chest, and then crawl back into bed to cry myself to sleep.
I can't wait to talk to him. The first thing I'm going to say to him is that I'm pissed off because of the papers he left on my dresser. Getting home from the base later on his deployment day, I found the bundle of papers he left on my dresser with a post-it note on top, telling me to read them and keep them safe. They were bank papers: Chad's last will and testament, the deed to his land, and the papers for his truck; my name added to all of them. They make me feel as if he is thinking he isn't coming back. Dana reassures me he had done it so that the resources he has are available to me if I need them, and that Chad wants me to be able to make decisions about the land, if I want. Maybe put up a barn and get some horses.
That had broken my heart, because Chad knows how much I want to have horses and sheep, maybe even some pigs. I won't do it without him; I can't do it without him. Dana suggests I get the construction of the barn underway and the laying of the fence line between her property and ours, stretching all the way back to the tree line, if I want. I haven't really put much thought into it yet, but Harlan has volunteered to help me when I need it. He's a great guy. I'm glad Kendall finally gave him a chance, and I have called on him once so far.
Last week I bought a small patio set to put out on the concrete space right outside the kitchen’s glass doors. It is a set of four chairs, table, and umbrella; all colored a deep red and being made out of metal. It is cute, and it looks great sitting out there still wrapped in the plastic. Harlan had helped unload it out of the back of my rusty pickup. I hope Chad likes it; I'm planning to take a picture of it and send it to him to get his opinion. God damn, I miss the hell out of that man.
Kendall is humming as she pulls her car into the small parking lot of Doc Young's office, parking next to Becca's bright pink Lexus. Becca is a mid-thirty-ish woman from New York who moved down here after her husband joined the Air Force. He is a surgeon, who is currently in Germany working at an Armed Forces hospital. Becca is a nice, personable woman who does general practice; answering any health questions posed to her. Her receptionist, Darla, waves a small, plump hand at us as Kendall and I come through the door, causing the bell to sound.
"Hey Rhea," she smiles and hands me a clipboard and a pen, "you know the routine. You sure do look down, Dear.” Darla's brows crease over her almond shaped green eyes, making her face seem even chubbier than it really is. She pushes her black rimmed glasses up from the tip of her nose and pauses in her typing to look me over, as if she has x-ray vision. She is maybe forty with dark brown hair, always kept in a messy bun with what looks like chop sticks sticking out of it.
I just nod at her and take the board, sitting down next to Kendall with a sigh. She is already busy flipping through a COSMO magazine as I fill in the simple questions about the symptoms. When it comes to the question about my last period, I pause, drawing a blank on when it had begun and ended. I reach in my purse, searching for my birth control container, but my mind starts to race when I can't find the familiar round, beige dispenser.
Kendall gives me a sideways glance. "What's wrong, Ray?"
"Nothin'," I try to answer without sounding worried. She ignores me, her eyes back on the article about Channing Tatum, but I'm reeling inside. I don't really have time to think over this as Doc Young comes through the room, smiling at me.
"Come on," she waves me to her, "you look white as a ghost."
"Yeah, I've gotten sick a couple times today." I hand her the clipboard, leaving my purse with Kendall.
Becca leads me back to the spacious exam room, directing me to sit up on the table and to roll up my sleeves. I roll off the answers to her questions while she takes my temperature and blood pressure, all the while the issue of my missing birth control runs through my mind. Come to think of it, I can't even remember when the last time was that I actually took my pill. The doctor says my pressure and temp look normal, and hands me a little white cup, leading me to the ladies room to give her a urine sample.
I do as told, in robot mode, and place the cup in the little window where her assistant will collect it once I'm out of the room. After washing my hands, I return to the empty exam room, sitting on the edge of the table, with my feet swinging mindlessly as I try and not wring my hands right off of my wrists while I am waiting for Doc Young to return.
Looking around the room, my eyes settle on one of those anatomy posters that are so prevalent in a doctor's office, but this one makes me freeze. It is a pregnancy one, an inside illustration of the womb, showing a growing fetus.
Oh man, am I.....
"Well, good news, Rhea." Becca comes back in with a smile on her face and a folder full of papers in her hand. "You're pregnant!"
WHAT?!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Chad
Afghanistan
It is so damn hot out. I peel my vest and helmet off, throw them to the bottom of my locker, and plop down onto the wooden bench. Today has been a long day of helicopter rides and training; it was the first full day back at the training base since a two week long mission in Darfur. It is about ten o’clock in the morning, making it about seven at night back home, and the guys are all fighting over who is going to use the Skype booth first.
I haven't talked to Rhea since the day we left and it tears at my heart every second of every day. I miss her wavy hair and blue-gray eyes, especially the way she lines them with makeup, making the color pop and become penetrating. I miss her little smile, the one she has on when I say something clever or silly. I miss the way she sits on the couch, with one leg tucked underneath her perfectly round bottom. I especially miss the way she loves to model her lingerie for me, strutting around the bedroom or house with a sly smile on her face.
I miss the way her skin feels underneath my fingertips. It is so fucking soft, and smells like coconut or citrus, depending on which lotion she uses that day. I miss the way her fingers lace perfectly into mine, my hands enveloping hers while her touch reaches my heart. Hell, even the way she looks at me half the time wraps around my heart, making me a slave to her, and she doesn't even realize it. I love that girl so much it hurts. It hurts in a good way. Knowing I have her waiting for me back home makes every sunrise worth it and every sunset a little harder.
"Chief, you care when you go?" Timmons shouts over Reno and Uclid's game of Guitar Hero. I shake my head, not caring when I go; the longer I wait, the more I'll have to say to Rhea when I see her sweet face. Timmons nods, shoving past Benson and Talbot, who are playing pool.
My teammates are good at putting work aside and trying to act normal. It is the only way we can stay sane while we’re over here. If we let our work, especially a mission like this last one, get to us, we'd all be in the psycho bin by now.
A shower would do me good, and I want to look half way descent when Rhea's face pops up on the computer screen, so I weave my way through the 'family' room of our barracks. As I pass in front of the television, I get a shout from Reno, telling me to 'get the hell out of the way' as he hits the buttons on the fake guitar; a sweat breaking out on his forehead. I flip him off playfully, shaking my head and patting Benson on the back as I pass the pool table. I pull my camo shirt and pants off, throwing them in the basket by the door of the showers. I can hear French laughing from the small area where the computer is, and it makes my heart ache because I want to be him right now, sitting there looking at my loved ones, laughing with them.
I'll have my turn, I tell myself, yanking the handles and cranking the shower to life. The cold water shocks my system as it hits my skin.
The cold water brings an ache throughout my shoulders, running up into the
back of my skull. It makes me think of the nightmares I've had recently, starring Rhea. They've been disturbing and haunting. They all center on me coming home to an empty house, flowers in hand, walking through the front door to find no one there. It frightens me as I run through the rooms, screaming her name, but the entire house is quiet and dark. Running from my house to my mother's, I storm in the front door, and find my mother kneeling and sobbing on the kitchen floor, a crying infant in her arms. I'm yelling at her, demanding that she tell me where Rhea is, but she never says anything; she just hands me the infant and then disappears, her sobs still audible as an echo. I'm always bewildered as I stand in my mother's dark kitchen, holding the infant close to my chest; its sobs quieting to slight coos and gurgles. It always smiles and reaches up to me when I look down at it, dressed all in a light blue hue of clothing. But what really catches my attention every time is the color of the baby's eyes. They're blue-gray, just like Rhea's.
I always wake up in a sweat from these dreams and even now, standing under the freezing water, I can feel the heat creeping throughout my body. I twist the handles, shutting it off, shaking my head and letting the water splatter from my shoulder length hair. Rhea is definitely going to rag on me about it getting longer, but I know she likes it. The thought of her running her fingers through it makes a sly smile caress my lips as I run my towel over my body and hook it around my waist.
One thing I can say is that living with a bunch of other men for ten months out of the year has made it so that I have no shame. As I’m walking back through the 'family' room, I don't hesitate to whip off my towel to snap it at Timmons when he makes a smart remark.
"Holy shit, Chief," Reno yells as all the other guys laugh at my assault on Timmons, "put that shit away. No wonder why Rhea wants to marry you, you're packing a fuckin' python down there."
Coming Home: Book 2 The Wakefield Romance Series Page 1
