by Dinah McLeod
The only time she’d seen him this morning was right before Jarrod had come, when he’d ordered her to bend over the bed. She’d started to argue it, but not wanting to make things even more strained between them, she’d obeyed, not even protesting when he’d told her he was going to plug her.
“That way you’ll keep your mind on the apology,” he’d explained, taking his time lubing it as she’d watch with wide eyes. It had pinched going in, and made her feel uncomfortably full, but she’d kept the thoughts to herself.
Her eyes flitted to Jarrod, sitting so quietly beside her. Did he know she was wearing a butt plug? The thought made her shift uncomfortably in her seat, which only made her more acutely aware of its presence.
She really wanted to talk to Jarrod about what was going on between her and Sean, to have someone to bounce her thoughts off of, if nothing else. But she was still a little ticked with him, and even if it weren’t for that, it was always in the back of her mind that he was Sean’s friend first. Would he tell on her? The thought made her blanch. In fact, since Jarrod had spanked her in front of her husband, she wasn’t sure what would or wouldn’t get her punished. It was enough to make her more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of confiding in him.
“Are you nervous?”
She started at the question, until she remembered what he was talking about. He was driving her to the general’s house, to meet with his wife, Candice. She’d been too knee-deep in the problems of today to remember yesterday’s. At least that meant she wasn’t, in fact, nervous. In fact, she would probably have to make a big effort to even listen to the general’s wife. But she knew that for the sake of her ass—which was still looking pink and feeling sore this morning, thanks a lot, Jarrod—she’d better try.
“No. Not really.”
“What is it, then?”
“You know what, maybe I am a little nervous.” She winced even as she uttered the little white lie, but Jarrod seemed satisfied with her answer. It was enough, at least, to get him to leave her in silence for the rest of the car ride. Normally, she enjoyed his company, but right now she just had too much on her mind to be troubled with making conversation.
When they pulled into the driveway, she looked at the house without really seeing it. She noted, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it was at least twice the size of theirs, but she filed it away for later, for a time when she might care about such things. Jarrod opened her door and helped her out, guiding her by the crook of her elbow to the front door. It was very early nineteenth-century of him, but whenever she’d commented on the fact, he’d told her politely but firmly to shut up and let him be a gentleman. At least, that’s how she’d taken it.
She couldn’t help but notice the rosebushes on the way to the door. Her eyes were assaulted by them, there were so many. Rows and rows of rosebushes in every color of the rainbow. The blooms were lush and magazine-perfect. She idly thought about reaching out and touching one, just to see if they were made of wax, but Jarrod was walking too fast for that.
He lifted the door knocker and used it to rap sharply on the door, once, twice, before he stopped and stepped back. “You can do this,” he whispered encouragingly. “Remember, just be polite, apologize, make a little small talk, and I’ll take you home.”
Before she could answer—she would have only given him a neutral “whatever you say” anyway—the door swung open and the man she’d met yesterday afternoon was smiling down at the two of them. He was in the khaki and polo attire Jarrod preferred, and once again Kaitlyn was given the opportunity to marvel at how different a man could look out of uniform.
“A pleasure to see you again, ma’am. And you too, Peters. What is Sergeant Green doing to keep busy this morning?”
“I believe he’s at PT, sir.”
“He just got his feet on the ground stateside,” the general scoffed, but he didn’t seem displeased. “Please, come in, come in. Candice has been in the kitchen since the crack of dawn. I don’t know what she’s been up to, but I tell you what, it sure smells delicious!”
When Jarrod chuckled, she hurried to join in with a laugh of her own as the two of them were admitted inside. The inside was even more imposing than the outside had been. The walls were cold and white and there were bronze statues of past presidents on every surface. She thought her eyes might bug out of her head before she even got a chance to apologize, so she turned away and kept her eyes forward.
Just then, the general’s wife came into the room, her shiny auburn hair braided and coiled at the top of her head in a bun. She was wearing heels, too, and the combination served to make her look a little more mature.
“You’re here!” she exclaimed with a smile. “I’m glad you could make it!”
Kaitlyn couldn’t help but be taken aback by the warmth of her greeting. “Yes. Hello. Thank you for having me.” She gave Jarrod a sideways glance to see him nod his approval.
“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” she gushed.
“What do you say we leave these two to it? Are you a football fan, Peters?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Not a Packers fan, I hope?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
How did he do that? Kaitlyn wondered admiringly as she watched his retreating back. Jarrod made socializing seem so simple, regardless of who the person was or their rank. It didn’t matter who he was talking to, he seemed at ease.
“Shall we?”
She turned her attention to Candice and gave her best smile. “Of course.”
To her surprise, the general’s wife took her by the hand and half speed-walked, half dragged her into the kitchen. She blinked in surprise when they entered the room. It wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d thought she’d see a lot of lace and vintage vases with brown, dried flowers, or something equally cutesy. It would match the bearing of the rest of the house.
Instead, the brown wooden counters were lined with chrome appliances and the decorations were understated, in warm orange and red tones. Her eyes were drawn to a wire spice rack with vintage labels. It certainly was homier than what she’d seen so far. In this room, she felt like she could breathe without fear of breaking something.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” the general’s wife asked, as though she could read her mind. “Of course, it’s nearly the only room George let me take charge of.”
She made a face that had Kaitlyn giggling. “Husbands.”
“If that isn’t the truth. Now, how do you take your tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out.” She shook her head.
“Nonsense. I have a freshly brewed pot right over here. Cream and sugar?”
“Sure.”
Before she knew it, they were sitting at a table for two by the window, mugs in hand and a plate of cookies between them that smelled cinnamon-y and delicious.
“So, speaking of husbands,” Candice leaned forward, her warm brown eyes gleaming, “how is yours?”
“Oh.” She didn’t know why she should feel startled. Sean had just gotten home, it had been bound to come up. “Ah, well, it’s an adjustment.” She smiled tightly. “You know how it is.”
“I do,” she agreed. “I do at that, and let me tell you, when George got home after being gone nine months, it was like living with a cranky bear.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “And your husband was gone for twice that, so I can’t even imagine.”
“It’s… it’s been hard,” she was surprised to find herself admitting.
“Yes.” Candice’s head was bobbing sagely. “It’s like, you don’t even know who they are anymore.”
“Or… or maybe this was who they always were,” she offered softly. “And maybe you just never realized it?” She lifted her eyes, expecting to find Candice staring at her in horror for her horrible, disloyal thoughts. Instead, she saw her nodding her agreement.
“It was tough for a while. We had to relearn each other. And, hell, of course he’d changed. I’d changed.
So we had to figure that out, too.”
“I tried so hard,” she confided. “I tried to keep everything just like it was when he left, even if I got bored with it. And he didn’t even appreciate it!”
“Men,” Candice sighed, clucking her tongue sympathetically. “Don’t you worry, hon. It gets better. He just needs time to readjust.”
“I hope you’re right,” she muttered.
“I am, trust me. And in the meantime, if he says anything less than kind, he doesn’t mean it. It’s tough to be back home when they’ve been in a warzone for so long. Their mindset changes, you know? So if he’s aggressive, cut him a little slack. He’ll come around.”
Kaitlyn looked her in the eye, nibbling her lip. She couldn’t express her gratitude for the advice. If nothing else, the commiseration was worth more than she could say. And more than anything, she hoped Candice was right.
“So, what would you have changed, if you hadn’t been worrying about your husband?”
“My hair,” she said without thinking twice. Her hand rose to finger her split ends. “I haven’t cut it in forever.”
“Ooh, you should do that! What do you think about highlights?”
“I’ve been dying to get it done. Just something a little…”
“Different?” Candice grinned.
She nodded her agreement.
“Well, you should do it then!” She slammed her hand on the table for emphasis. “You’ve been through a lot, too. It seems like our men tend to forget that. You should treat yourself—you deserve it.”
Kaitlyn found herself getting caught up in the other woman’s fervor. “You know what? You’re right! I kept it the same, and it didn’t even matter to him. I should just do it.”
“Make a change.”
“Absolutely.”
“So when are you going to get it done?”
“Today,” she decided impulsively. “Right now, in fact. Wanna come?”
Candice’s eyes glittered back at her, caught up in the excitement. “Only if we ditch the escort.”
“The escort?” she echoed, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Oh! You mean Jarrod! He’s, ah, he’s Sean’s friend. He…”
“He’s your escort,” she repeated with a wink. “Don’t you worry, honey. We all get one of those.”
* * *
It was surprisingly easy to tell the men that they were going out. Neither seemed to think anything about it. Jarrod, she surmised, was probably just glad that they were getting along.
And they were, much to her surprise. Candice had turned out to be different than she’d first thought. She was lively and bubbly and fun. The more they talked, in fact, the worse she felt for her snap judgment the day before. After all, it wasn’t just any woman who, after being snubbed, would have you over to her house the next day.
They were on their way to the stylist—not the shop on the base, but the same stylist Candice herself used—when she decided she needed to come clean. “Um, Candice… listen, about the other day—”
“Oh, don’t mention it,” she interrupted with a wave of her hand. “It’s forgotten.”
“No, really. I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have been so rude. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“And who would have expected you to?” she asked, giving her a sidelong glance. “I never should have approached you during a time like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, to be honest, that’s not completely true. I just thought you looked like you could use a friend.”
“That obvious, huh?” she asked with a comical wince.
“We all need friends.”
“Well, I guess I’m lucky to have found one then,” she said, and the pair smiled at each other.
“Could you do me a favor?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t suppose you’d mention to the general that we’ve made up?” Candice said.
“What?” Kaitlyn asked, her brow furrowing.
“Well…” For the first time since she’d seen her, she looked chagrined. “He was pretty insistent that I apologize.”
“What?” she asked again, her voice somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “But I’m here because I’ve been ordered to apologize.”
“I know,” she said simply with a grin. “Believe me, it was written all over your watchdog’s face.”
“Jarrod? Are you serious? I can’t read him for the life of me.”
Candice shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve had a lot of experience. I’m not as young as I look, you know.”
At that, Kaitlyn snorted with laughter. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“I know,” the other woman groaned. “We get it all the time. Do you know, on our last base a woman actually had the gall to ask me if I had a ‘daddy complex’? The nerve!”
“You’re kidding!” she gasped, scandalized and amused all at the same time. If Candice’s expression was anything to go by, she’d felt the same. “So… do you?”
Candice shook her head, giggling too hard to answer. When it settled down, she reached over and patted Kaitlyn’s hand. “You and I, we’re going to get along just fine.”
* * *
Kaitlyn had to search for a few minutes to find her husband. Finally, she located Sean in the study. He had a lamp on and was bent over a book, studying it intently. So much so, in fact, that he didn’t even look up as she came in and closed the door softly behind her.
She cleared her throat and smiled when he looked up. “So? What do you think?”
“What do I think of what?” he asked, his brow furrowing as though he wasn’t sure what she was doing standing in front of him.
“My hair,” she said, flipping a lock of what had been blah brown over her shoulder. The stylist had cut and layered it, in addition putting warm cinnamon highlights in it. When she’d looked in the mirror when the stylist was finished, she’d gasped in surprise. Her hair seemed vibrant and full of life instead of just stuff sprouting out of her head. Somehow, it seemed to bring out the green in her eyes and put color in her cheeks all at once. Candice’s stylist, Geena, was in fact, a miracle worker. She actually felt beautiful, for a change. And as much as she’d enjoyed Candice’s company, when she was finished the only thing she could think of was getting back to Sean to show him.
But by the way he was looking at her, she might as well have grown an extra head. Not only did he not look impressed, if the look on his face was anything to go by, he was upset.
“You don’t like it?” she asked, hating herself for the doubt she heard in her voice.
“No,” he said flatly. “I don’t.”
“Oh.” She swallowed hard, past the pang of hurt his words had caused. “I’m sorry. I thought…”
“I don’t know what you were thinking, honestly.” He slammed the book he’d been reading down on his desk, making her jump. “You were told to go apologize to the general’s wife. That was it. Nobody said anything about you ruining your hair.”
Kaitlyn winced, but even as she opened her mouth to rebut his charges, she remembered what Candice had said: it gets better. He needs time. He doesn’t mean it. “I’m sorry you don’t like it.”
“Change it back.”
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to think about what she was going to say, for a change. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I paid good money for this cut and it will go back on its own. Maybe by then you’ll even like it.”
“You paid money for that?” he asked, his expression agog. “Why would you do that? Why would someone charge you money just to ruin your hair?”
She bit her lip, hard, to keep from picking up the round paperweight on his desk and launching it at his head. Could he be any more insensitive?
“How much?”
“How much what?”
“How much did you waste on your hair?”
“You know what, maybe we should talk about this another time.” She whirled on her heel to leave.
“I asked you a question, Kaitlyn. How mu
ch money did you spend?”
She stiffened at his accusatory tone, hating the tears that rose to her eyes. He was adapting. He was getting used to life stateside again. She knew that; what she hadn’t known was how much it would hurt. “One fifty.”
“A hundred and fifty dollars?” he asked in obvious disbelief.
Well, it wasn’t pesos, she thought sarcastically. “Yes, sir.” Without waiting to see what he would say—she swore she could feel the hurricane building up right behind her—she opened the door and saw herself out.
Just then, her cell vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw she had a text from Candice.
Well?? What’d he say?
She stared at the words for a long minute, contemplating what to do. Should she lie? Say he was asleep? Tell her that she loved the cut? In the end, she put the phone back in her pocket without responding, feeling that if anyone would understand, it would be another Army wife.
* * *
“Mmm, smells good.”
Kaitlyn froze, the spoon she’d been stirring with stilled in midair as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist. Sean nuzzled her neck and it took everything she had in her not to elbow him in the side.
“I’ve missed you.”
“You sure about that?” she muttered caustically.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Excuse me, I need to get by.”
When Sean dropped his arms, she stepped aside and began pulling plates from the cabinet. It almost felt strange. She’d been eating off paper plates since he’d left, to the point where she was surprised she remembered which cabinet her china was in. She’d become accustomed to eating solo in front of the TV, except for the rare occasions that Jarrod joined her for a bite.
“Could you set the table?” she asked, partly to give him something to do and partly so he would stay out of her way.
