by Naomi Niles
“You’re doing it again,” I said, half-amused and half-exasperated. “The thing, the thing that you do!”
“What thing?” asked Renee.
“The thing that you apologized for doing this morning, where you want to protect me from the world instead of letting me live my life and make mistakes like a grown woman.”
Renee shrugged in defeat. She knew better than to argue with her own words, especially when they had been spoken not three hours before.
“Anyway,” she said, “I hope you’ll go out and have a good time tomorrow. You’ve earned it.”
Chapter Nineteen Zack
It was late Sunday afternoon, and I would be meeting up with Kelli in a few hours. I dug through my bag until I found a light-blue silk button down that wasn’t too wrinkly and a pair of dark denim jeans.
As I buttoned my shirt in front of the mirror I could feel my hands starting to shake. The last time I had felt this nervous about going out with a girl was in high school, when I had invited my crush to go bowling and we had kissed in the back of the bowling alley. I thought I would have gotten over that after high school, and for the most part I had. This girl was different, though. She put the fear of God into me. There were so many different ways I could screw this up, and if I did, we’d probably never see each other again.
“Tread carefully, Zack,” I told my reflection. “You’ve only got one chance to get this right. You’d better not mess it up.”
I doused myself in a cloud of cologne and dabbed my body with scented lotion. I wasn’t going to be taking any chances this evening; I had to look and smell perfect. I was still gelling and combing my hair when the phone on my desk buzzed. At first, I worried it might be Kelli calling to cancel, but it was just my mom.
“Hey, Mama,” I said with a feeling of relief. “What’s up?”
“Hey, sorry I missed your call yesterday,” she said. “Are you back in the states yet?”
“Just got in the day before yesterday. I had to check on my apartment and get my car out of storage.” I loved how easily I reverted back to my natural Texan accent when talking to my parents. Most of the time I was able to hide it; Carson was the only one of my buddies who knew I was secretly an old country boy at heart. “How are things over there?”
“Well, we really miss you,” said Mama. “Things here are good. Your dad finally got those hogs under control. Him and Curtis spent a whole weekend out here nailing the fence down. Took ‘em forever, but the hogs aren’t getting out anymore.”
“How’s Curtis and his girlfriend? They still together?”
“Still together,” she said. “I imagine they’ll be engaged before too long. They’ve been dating for about a year now.”
“She still livin’ out in the back yard?” My parents owned a tiny house, and they had been renting it out to her.
“Yeah, although she’s been talking about getting her own place in the city. Anyway, and your dad’s doing well. He wants to know when you’re coming home.”
I could hear Dad hollering something in the background, although I couldn’t make out what he was saying. “Tell him I’ll be coming home in a few days,” I replied.
“Well, you ought to,” said Mama. “Remember his birthday’s next month. He’ll be turning sixty-five, if you can believe it. I asked him what he wanted; he said a new waffle iron, but I think what he really wants is for all you boys to be together in the same room again. You know his heart hasn’t been acting well, and we don’t know how much longer he has.”
In the background, I heard Dad yelling something that sounded a lot like, “My heart is just fine!”
“I’ll be flying home, probably next weekend,” I assured her. “Matter of fact, I had better get going; I’m going on a date.”
“A date? Oooo, how exciting. Well, you take care of yourself. Stay out of trouble.”
“I will, Mama.”
“Love you.”
“You too.” She hung up.
Talking with Mama had allowed me to forget my worries for a few minutes, but as I drove through Manhattan to Kelli’s apartment I couldn’t stop thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Maybe she wanted to let me know that she had gotten married in the year I’d been away; maybe she would bring her husband to dinner. More likely we just wouldn’t click in the way we had done a year ago; there’s a reason long-distance couples are encouraged to talk every day if they hope to make their relationships last. I had a horrible image of myself entering her apartment and taking off my clothes, only to find her looking on with a horrified expression and showing me to the door.
But I shouldn’t have worried so much. When I came up to her room and knocked on the door, she came bounding out with a loud cry of surprise and excitement, throwing her thin arms around me. She smelled of elderflower and aromatic cedar and for a moment, I was content just to stand there and breathe in her scent.
“It’s so good to see you again,” she said, holding onto me and not letting go. She was wearing a blue button-down and a pair of blue jeans that showed off her slender figure to good effect.
I let out a sigh of relief and patted her gently on the arms. “Been a while, ain’t it?”
“‘Ain’t it?’” said Kelli, pulling back and grinning wickedly. “You been stationed in Louisiana for the last ten months?”
I’d have been humiliated if she wasn’t laughing so hard. I was reminded instantly of why I had fallen for her in the first place. “I just got off the phone with my mom; I forgot to transition back on my way over.”
“I don’t mind,” said Kelli, taking me by the arm and leading me down the hallway. “I think it sounds kinda sexy. You ought to be standing in a field wearing a cowboy hat and chewing on a long piece of grass.”
“If that’s what you go for, then you’d love my brother.”
“Oh, yeah? Does he have a sexy cowboy voice like Garth Brooks?”
“He is way, way sexier than Garth Brooks,” I replied.
We went out to dinner at a fancy crab shack on Long Island. I ordered she-crab soup and a bell pepper stuffed with shredded cheese, ground beef and cilantro while Kelli ordered sweet snow crab, potato crisps, and a garden salad. The meal came with unlimited breadsticks, and I was already nearly full by the time our plates arrived.
“So, feels like forever since I’ve seen you,” said Kelli. “How was Libya?”
“Hotter than hell on the fourth of July,” I replied. “They had to warn us not to go walking around in our bare feet or we could literally die—not that we needed any warning. And of course, the whole country is in chaos since the fall of Qaddafi, different gangs trying to seize control of the country. I feel like a lot of people don’t understand how vital our military is to keeping peace over there.”
Kelli frowned and poked at her salad unhappily.
“That wasn’t a jab at you—” I said.
“No, it’s fine. I realize my portrayal of the Navy might not have been entirely positive, but it’s something I’ve come to accept. How did the guys like it?”
“They actually loved it—well, most of them. There are always one or two guys who’ll nitpick anything you write. But I liked it, and Chuck liked it, and the sergeant couldn’t find anything to disagree with.”
Kelli’s mood seemed to lift considerably when she heard this. “That’s fantastic,” she said with a look of relief. “You wouldn’t believe how much hate mail I got after that piece came out. I was blocked by some of my oldest friends on Facebook. An old man called in to the Bugle’s office three days in a row threatening to doxx me.” Seeing my blank stare, she added, “He was going to post my home address online.”
“What?” I balked. “What good would that do?”
“That way anyone who wanted to could come and harass me. We had to report him to the police. I’ll be honest: there were nights when I wished I had never written the article.”
“You did a good thing.” I leaned back in my chair feeling full and contented. “Anytime you writ
e on a controversial topic, you’re gonna draw haters, even if they don’t know what they’re mad about. Hell, half of ‘em probably didn’t even read the article before they started firing off emails.”
“I know for a fact that some of them didn’t,” said Kelli with a shake of her head.
I couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to her after we’d been apart for so long. Now that we were together again, it was like she’d never left. As the night wore on, she grew quieter and sadder, and it wasn’t until after I’d paid for our meal and we’d walked out of the crab shack into the crowded street that I understood why.
“I think I know what’s going on,” I said. “You don’t wanna go home, do you?”
“ No.” She turned to face me. “The whole meal felt like a dream after being away for so long, and I’m not ready to wake up yet. It’s like, what if we only get a couple of hours together, one day out of every year? And what if this is our day, and I have to wait a whole year before I can see you again? It sounds like a miserable existence, to be honest.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be that way.” There was something about being wanted by a woman that made me feel so confident and hungry. I could feel my body being drawn to hers like a magnet.
“Would you mind if I came up and saw your apartment?” There was a tone of gentle pleading in her voice, the sort of tone that was hard to resist.
“Wouldn’t mind at all,” I said quietly.
We decided to take separate cars so that she could drive home after our visit was over. I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment about twenty minutes later, and she pulled up beside me. “You ready?” I asked.
She nodded, craning her neck to take in the brick building with its elaborately gabled roof. “This is so much nicer than my apartment,” she said in a tone of disbelief. “I’d be embarrassed to bring you home now. That and my sister would probably walk in while we were hanging out.”
She left me to wonder what exactly she meant by “hanging out” as I led her up the stairs to the third floor. My room stood at the end of the hall; having unlocked the door and turned on the lights in the living room, I immediately headed for the kitchen.
“You want something to drink?” I asked her, opening the fridge and peering inside. “I just went shopping last night. I’ve got beer, lemon-lime sports drink, all-natural fruit punch, and a jug of orange juice that’s been in there for about a year, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”
But when Kelli didn’t answer, I turned around. She had closed the front door and was now leaned against it, rapidly and with nimble fingers unbuttoning her shirt.
Chapter Twenty Kelli
Zack froze, looking taken aback. I paused, wondering if I had moved too fast. Maybe it was presumptuous to assume that because he had invited me up to his apartment, he was as horny and as willing as I was. He gave me a look that seemed to say, “Are we really doing this?”
“You alright?” I asked, as he continued to waver uncertainly at the edge of the kitchen.
“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry for staring, it’s just been a while.”
I laughed incredulously. “I haven’t even gotten my shirt off yet!”
That was the great thing about Zack, his ability to make me feel like the most important, most interesting person in the world. The last time we had made love, he had prefaced by telling me the various things he liked about me, which was oddly effective at getting me aroused even though at the time he barely knew me. It had laid to rest my concerns that maybe he saw me as just another body to be fucked and discarded. Even he seemed surprised by it, like he had never tried that before.
Of course, it wasn’t all talk; toward the end, his sweet words had become hoarse whispers, low moans, and growls; the animal look had come into his eyes and for a few minutes, we were two bodies in heat doing what bodies in heat had always done. It was a strange alchemy, this melding of poetry and passion, human and animal, and it had resulted in some of the hottest sex of my life.
Now as I stood there in the doorway with one hand on the center button of my shirt, he walked over and placed both hands on my shoulders. After looking into my eyes for a long moment, he said in a low voice, “Oh, baby, you are perfect.” And he kissed me like I hadn’t been kissed in almost a year.
I closed my eyes and felt the brush of his lips against my face and neck, hungry and unashamed. Gradually, I became aware that his fingers were fumbling for the bottom buttons of my shirt. His hands were shaking, the way a person’s hands might shake when they haven’t eaten in three days.
“You sure you’re feeling up to this?” I asked him, placing a hand on his stubbly cheek.
“Baby, I’ve been ready,” he said as he unbuttoned the lowest button.
Now I was standing half-in, half-out of my shirt and he had a full view of my blue bra. Instinctively I folded my hands over my chest so he couldn’t see. He shook his head and smiled. “You always do that.”
“Do what?” I could feel the heat rising into my face, burning like a brick pavement.
“Try to hide your body, like you’re ashamed of it.”
“I guess I’m not used to being looked at by men.”
“You mean you never slept with a man before?”
“Not every day.” I smiled. “And the guys I’ve had in the past were always in and out, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, if you know what I mean. Sometimes they didn’t even wait until I had gotten my clothes all the way off.”
Zack shook his head sadly. “See, that’s no way to treat a lady,” he said. “You’ve gotta be kind, and you’ve gotta show them affection, and you’ve gotta be willing to take things slow at first.”
“Is that how you do it?”
Zack’s eyes lit up with a look of mischief and cunning. “Why don’t I just show you?” he replied.
While we had been talking, my arms had automatically drifted back over my breasts. He grabbed me gently by the wrists and pulled them away, and there was a moment as we looked at each other where I think we both knew this was really about to happen—the lovemaking, the words of affection whispered low in my ear, my hands around his head, his body and mine intertwined.
“You know, I thought I liked you before,” he said as he traced his fingers along my belly. “But I’ve come to respect you so much more in the last year, even though we barely talked.”
“Mmmm, why is that?” I asked. His words were already having their strange effect.
“Because of all the shit you put up with after that piece went to press. And even before, if we’re being honest. My boys had no right to treat you like that, and I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had decided it wasn’t worth it, given up, and gone home. But you kept going no matter how nasty they got, no matter how much they ignored you.” He reached over and eased me out of my shirt, then kissed me once on the forehead. “I think that deserves some kind of medal.”
“I was just doing my job,” I said.
“I know. But after the chilly reception you got from the rest of the base, you must have known your report wasn’t gonna make you friends. And for the last year, you’ve put up with the death threats, and the harassment, and the hate mail, and you haven’t let it consume your life, and you’ve pressed on despite the hate and the venom and the anger.” He was unhooking my bra now, but he paused to look me directly in the face as he said, “I think you must be one of the bravest women I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. “That means a lot coming from someone who risks his life probably every day.”
He shrugged. “Just doing my job.”
By now, he had managed to get my bra off. I felt naked and exposed to him, despite the fact that I was still wearing my jeans. This was always the hardest part, the part where I had to let go and surrender to him fully. But after the things he had just said to me, I was more than ready.
Chapter Twenty-One Zack
She fell asleep that night with my arm wrapped around her. We we
re arguing about James Blunt, whom she apparently loved and had seen in concert more times than I cared to know about. She seemed to think it hilarious how much I loathed his music.
“Did you know he was in the Royal Navy in Kosovo?” she asked, in the bright, chirpy voice she always used when a disagreement arose between us and she was trying to win me over, but I was refusing to yield.
“I could care less—” I groused, smiling in spite of myself.
“And that he was instrumental in brokering a peace deal!”
“B.S. He probably played guitar for someone who was involved in the peace talks, and they were so annoyed that they told him that just to shut him up.”
“Can you imagine dating someone like that?” she asked with stars in her voice.
I rolled over and glared at her in suspicion. “What, you wanna go out with him?”
“No, I just mean, what if you were dating James Blunt, and you broke up with him—”
“… because he’s a whiny, emo, irritating song-butchering piece of snot—”
“… and then a year later,” she said, raising her voice to talk over me, “all of a sudden his song is all over the radio and you can’t escape it. Think how annoying that would be, but how cool for him that he wrote something you couldn’t get away from.”
I threw her a quizzical look, as though I had never truly seen her until this moment. “I’m glad you’re not a multi-talented artist with a vindictive streak. If we ever broke up, I can see there’d be hell to pay.”
We went on talking and arguing like that for about an hour before she finally began to fall asleep. At one point, she asked me about the tattoos on my arms, and I told her about them. It was only in the moment just before she closed her eyes that I realized she hadn’t asked because she was interested, but just to hear the sound of my voice.
I lay there for a long time after she had gone to sleep, wanting to memorize her features and wondering how something so perfect had fallen into my life.
***
When I awoke the next morning in the hazy gray pre-dawn light, Kelli was stumbling around frantically trying to gather up her clothes. I couldn’t help smirking with delight as I watched her scooping up her socks and smelling them to make sure they were still good to wear.
