I would just go and get him as fast as I could. My phone said there was an airport close to the bar, so if I could find a plane, I could charter us a flight home. Maybe I could still make the massage I had scheduled for tomorrow if this all went to plan. As soon as I thought those words, though, I knew I had jinxed myself. Things never went "to plan."
Chapter 15
June 9th, 1990
The day I was dreading had arrived. Somehow, my week had flown by on silent wings, gliding past on sunshine and happiness. I felt as though I had only just arrived, that I had only just found the starting point. Dean and I were about to begin something wonderful, and it wasn't fair that Dean had to leave. It wasn't fair that we had only had four magical days together, and now he had to leave for the horrors of war. It made my stomach hurt.
I sat on his bed, my arms wrapped around my legs, watching him pack. He had the door to the ocean open, and the salty air was making my hair ripple down my back. Despite the Florida sunshine and the warmth of the breeze, I felt cold.
Dean carefully packed his dark green rucksack, placing his boots and clothing in the hard canvas with care. His slow, methodical movements were hypnotic, the muscles on his arms flexing and relaxing with an attractive rhythm. Maybe if I watched him long enough, his bag would never fill and he would never have to leave.
A knock on his open door drew my attention. There Matt stood, wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, and a frown. "You ready, man?"
"Yeah. I'll be down in a minute." Dean stared at his bag. It had been packed for at least a minute, but he kept rearranging the items as if packing could delay the inevitable. He slid the metal latch through the loops and closed the bag.
The bed creaked softly as he sat beside me. We didn't look at one another; he just took my hand in his, and we sat there for a moment. The ocean sighed behind us, calling like a forgotten lover. The pit in my stomach was growing deeper with every second.
"Are you sure you have to go?" I asked. I had asked it before, and I knew the answer would be the same.
"I told you last night. I have to go back. But I'll be home before you know it." He twisted on the bed so he could face me. With a gentle hand, he brushed a free strand of hair behind my ear and out of my face. His fingers grazed my cheek, his skin rough against the sensitive skin of my jaw. My eyes fluttered up to meet his.
"Promise?" It came out a whisper, my voice betraying me at the last minute. I reached up with my own hand and pressed his to my cheek. I wanted to remember the way his touch felt.
"Promise," he said. He leaned forward and kissed me. I squeezed my eyes shut, memorizing every detail. I wanted to remember his smell, his taste, and the way his lips felt against mine. I would take it with me until he came home.
We broke apart reluctantly, hearing the boys downstairs opening and slamming doors. It was time for them to leave. Dean brushed away a tear I hadn't even realized had escaped and kissed the tip of my nose.
"This won't be for forever. I'll find you." He gave me a confident smile, and I attempted to give him one back. I felt it waver, but I put my heart into it to make it stay. I would see him again. What we had found in this short vacation was too good to let slip through our fingers.
Dean stood, shouldering the heavy bag as though it were weightless. He held out a hand, and I unfolded myself from the bed and took it to steady me as I straightened. I let his hand go for a moment, to smooth the bedspread and close the door. The room became a foreign place as the song of the ocean cut off. We were leaving, and the house was losing its magic.
I took his hand, feeling his strength infuse me as we navigated the stairs down to the main room where the others were waiting. They all looked as miserable as the two of us.
Kimberly and Tony stood off in a corner, their foreheads pressed together, whispering secrets. Matt and Jenny sat on separate couches, deliberately not looking at one another. Jenny held her head high as she stared out a window.
As soon as we arrived, Matt picked up his bag and opened the main door. The two cars sat in the driveway, their windows staring at me like soulless monsters. They were going to take the boys away. The thought of slashing the tires raced through my mind, but I knew it would only be a delay. They would have to leave eventually. We trickled out of the house, moving slowly, hoping time would stop.
The boys' rental car let out a metallic groan as Matt's bag landed with a thud in the trunk. Dean's bag followed close behind it, while Tony's bag went into Jenny's beat-up little car. She had to slam the lid three times before the rusty trunk finally latched. We all stood in the hot sunshine, unsure of how to procrastinate further.
Matt flopped into the driver's seat of his car, Jenny moving slowly to the passenger side. Dean and I wiggled into the backseat, sliding on the pleather interior. It smelled like plastic and gas, but at least I was with him.
Kimberly started Jenny's car, the high pitched whine filling our ears as Tony locked the front door and hid the keys under the doormat. His aunt would pick them up the next day. He gave the house one last lingering look before turning and reluctantly getting into the beat-up station wagon with Kim. The house seemed to stare after us with vacant, sad eyes as we all pulled away and headed for the airport.
We sat quietly in the backseat, gripping one another's hands. I leaned my head on Dean's shoulder, and he kissed my hair. I was glad I couldn't see his face because I knew I would cry and wouldn't be able to stop. I watched the city speed by through the windows, Matt driving exactly the speed limit to the airport. I knew he loved to speed, but he was in no real hurry to get to the airport. He sat stiffly, pointedly ignoring Jenny next to him. She in turn stared out her window as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire world. I might have believed their indifference, if not for the fact that they had their hands clasped together in front of the center console.
Chapter 16
June 9th, 1990
The airport reared it's ugly gray head all too soon. I swallowed down tears as a plane soared overhead, the jets rumbling through the air. Matt parked the car in the rental station, handing the keys over to a man in a red vest. Matt carried his bag like a suitcase to the check-in line, his big biceps flexed as he moved across the shiny floor.
The moments seemed to blur together, my brain refusing to accept what was going on. I turned to see Tony walking up, his arm draped protectively around Kimberly. She had tears running down her face. The tissue balled in her palm was past its usefulness, but she kept wiping her nose with it anyway.
Dean squeezed my hand, letting me go for a moment, as he checked his bag and picked up his ticket. The three men were ready to head to the gate in less time than I had hoped. I wanted every moment, every step, to take twice as long as it should because that would be twice as long that I could spend with Dean.
We were at the gate all too soon. Boarding was due to start at any moment; we had almost dallied too long at the house for the boys to make their flight. For a moment I wished we had. Dean pulled me over to a corner with empty chairs. The woman at the airline desk announced that boarding would now begin.
"I wish you didn't have to go," I whispered. He pressed his forehead to mine and wrapped his arms around me. We were in our own world. I looked into his beautiful winter-sky eyes, feeling the tears start to swell behind my eyes. I knew they would escape at any moment.
"I know. It's my duty and I have to. I have your address, though. I'll write you as soon as I get settled." Dean's voice was soft and low with a comforting tone to it. I knew he was as close to breaking as I was, but he was trying to comfort me. "You have my address. It won't be long before we see each other again."
I gave a short nod. My chest was going to explode with the pressure growing in my heart. How did people do this? How did people say goodbye to the ones they loved? How did military husbands and wives do this on a regular basis? I had only known Dean for less than a week, and I was about to lose it. I couldn't imagine the pain of someone with years of love saying goodbye.
I sniffed, the tears threatening to overwhelm me. I didn't want to say goodbye. I would have given anything in that moment for him to stay. We had amazing chemistry, and I wanted to know where we could take it. I wanted to know now, not when he got back.
"I'm giving serious thought to holding onto your ankle and not letting go, like a little kid. You're going to have to drag me onto the airplane because I'm not letting go," I said. He let out a low chuckle with a sad smile.
"I'm sure the stewardesses will be okay with that. I gave serious thought to just packing you into my duffel bag and taking you with me. I'd rather have you than my boots any day." He touched my cheek, as if to feel me smile. I wanted him to remember me smiling.
"If I'm on your ankle, do you think they'd still give me peanuts?" I asked. Dean snickered and kissed my forehead. The airline attendant was calling out for the last passengers. It was time for Dean to leave.
"I have something for you," Dean said. His voice held such sadness, and the pressure around my chest was intense. I silently begged for the world to stop spinning. "Read it after I'm on the plane."
I nodded weakly. The attendant was calling out again. Dean swallowed hard. He ran his fingers down my hair, the crooked smile I loved crossing his face. He cupped my chin in his fingers and kissed me. I breathed him in. He smelled like soap and sunshine. His mouth was warm and minty. A small patch of beard he missed shaving scratched at my cheek. His hands were strong as he pulled me into him for this one last kiss.
He let me go, his hand caressing my cheek as he stepped back. I kept my eyes closed for a moment, trying to remember every detail. When I opened them, he was walking into the gate. He turned at the last moment, giving me one of his trademarked crooked smiles. He hesitated, as though deciding whether to actually get on the plane or run back into my arms, but he turned and stepped through the door. And then he was gone.
***
The car ride back to our condo was silent. Kimberly sat in the backseat, her head resting against the window as she stared off into space. Her cheeks were dry, but every once in a while she let out a quiet whimper. Jenny drove, her jaw clenched and her knuckles white around the steering wheel. The letter Dean had given me sat in my pocket, but I wanted to be alone to read it.
When we arrived back at our tiny rental, we all disappeared into different corners of the house. Later, we would finish packing and make the long drive home, but for now, we each wanted to be alone. The boys of summer were gone and off to war, and we all knew that they may never come home.
I sat on the edge of my twin bed, the sunlight streaming in around my shoulders. My hair was hot on the back of my neck, so I drew it up into a ponytail and out of my face. I held Dean's letter in my hands, almost afraid to open it. There were a million things, both exhilarating and terrifying, I hoped it could say.
With trembling fingers, I unfolded the paper, smoothing out the creases from the trip in my pocket and began to read:
Dear Rachel,
I've fallen hard for you. No one has ever made me feel the way you do. I don't think anyone ever will again.
I wish I could put into words how happy I am when I'm with you. I want you to know that I'll think of you often and it will always put a smile on my face.