| Subject: Love is in the Air - chapter one |
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fananicfan
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Date Posted: 22:24:07 07/27/07 Fri
In reply to:
fananicfan
's message, "Love is in the Air" on 21:51:59 07/27/07 Fri
Chapter One – Mail Call
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2006
SAN DIEGO
It's been three weeks since I returned to San Diego after my all too brief stay with Harm in Washington. Though we had our first fight, I'm feeling more assured that our marriage will work.
If he starts to close himself off again, I’m confidant that I'll be able to tell him that I'm feeling left out without causing an argument, and get us back on track. This new confidence in our relationship has oddly given me a boost in my own self confidence.
However, neither my confidence in our relationship nor in myself is doing me any good at the moment. The JAG conference is going to be held in San Diego again this year during the first week of April. I was informed this morning that I'm to speak on the advantages of the JSL program.
Sitting at my desk this morning, I'm hard put to find anything positive to say. If I hadn’t been the one slated to run this office, chances are that my request to leave the Corps would've been approved and I'd be with Harm now, or marking off the last few days on the calendar before joining him.
I have to take a moment to scold myself. I don't know for certain that my resignation would've been approved if not for this position. It was a great moment in my career, and I won’t deny the pride I felt when I was selected to head this office. The words echoing in my head at the moment are, ‘I’ve worked hard to overcome the choices that were made for me and correct the bad choices that I've made along the way. Why can’t I have all the good things as a reward - the career, the man, the family, and lots and lots of comfortable shoes?’
I look down at the blank sheet of paper on my desk. I haven't written a single sentence or, for that matter, a single word. It's a good thing the conference is almost two months away. I’m going to need the time. Since my return, I've felt like I'm moving in slow motion while those around me are moving at normal speed.
Mattie's doctor's appointment was the week after my return. As we left her school for the doctor's office, Mattie voiced concern that the doctor would say that she couldn't have her driver's license or put some kind of restriction on her that would keep her from going to the upcoming Winter Formal/Valentine's Day dance.
Mattie was still emailing Kevin in Virginia, but Paul had caught her attention in a class that she'd started in January when she'd returned to school after Christmas. Mattie was hopeful that Paul would ask her to the dance.
The doctor had told us that Mattie was doing well. He estimated her to be 98 percent recovered. He imposed no restrictions and said that her next appointment should be made for six months from now. I was happy that Mattie was healthy, but a part of me knew that this was the start of Mattie making her own decisions and finding her own way in the world. Though it's only been since Christmas that we started to bond in a mother and daughter way, I feel a sense of loss just the same.
I smile at the memory of last weekend's search for the perfect dress. The Friday after her doctor’s appointment, Paul asked Mattie to go to the dance with him. Mattie was so excited. I was less excited, but eager to meet the young man. If I'm having this much trouble, I can't image how Harm is doing.
The miles between Harm and me make it hard to keep the lines of communication open. He hasn't missed any Saturday calls, but the emails have become sporadic. Given what he’s said when he calls, I don't see the lack of emails as a sign that he's closing himself off, just a sign of how busy he is. This past Saturday, our call was very short. Harm was calling from an aircraft carrier. I was thrilled to get his email on Monday, saying that he'd completed his quals and was back in London. With his move to Naples beginning on the 27th of this month, I don’t see his schedule easing in the near future.
A knock on my door forces me to bring my mind back to work. "Enter."
It was Petty Officer Coates. I'm relieved that she needed only my signature on a requisition form because I don't seem to be able to get any work done today as I look back down at the still blank sheet of paper on my desk. A check of my internal clock tells me that it's only 1115, too early for lunch, but I need to get out of the office for a little while. I decide to go to the condo. I’ll take off my shoes, put my feet up on the coffee table and relax a bit before returning to finish the day. An advantage of being in charge is that no one questions you if you leave early for lunch.
Unlike my apartment in Georgetown where the mailboxes were located inside the lobby, the mailboxes here are housed in a big metal box near the street where you make the turn into the parking area for our building. When I see the structure this afternoon, I’m suddenly drawn to it like a moth to a flame…I have to get the mail and I have to do it now.
I unlock the door and step inside the quiet condo. Usually when I get home at the end of the day, Mattie's already home and, no matter what she's doing, there's noise, whether it's in the form of music or the television. I slip off my shoes and move towards the couch.
I put my feet up as I'd planned and start to sort through the mail. The first piece, a credit card offer, I quickly throw on the couch for disposal later. The next envelope’s address label is facing down and, when I flip it over, I see that the writing on the next envelope is addressed in a familiar handwriting. I try not to get too excited at the sight of the familiar script, and flip over the small envelope in my hand. The small envelope has my name printed in large letters and appears to be written by a child. A child…which one do I open first, the one from Harm or the one from Tyler?
I think quickly. How much can a six year old have to say? I rest the other three envelopes in my lap and open Tyler’s letter. I pull out the folded piece of notebook paper that he’s used.
Dear Mac,
The new boy makes fun of me cuz I sleep with my bears. Miss Nancy tried to explane why but he don’t listen. I hope I get to live with you soon.
Ty
I smile at the simple lines with misspelled words and poor grammar because they’re words from Tyler…from my little boy.
I start another stack of mail that I keep beside me on the couch. I pull Harm’s envelope off the top of the pile and, under it, I find another letter from Tyler, but this one is addressed to Mattie. I place her letter on top of Tyler’s letter to me so that she can read them both tonight.
When I move Mattie’s letter, I uncover the last piece of mail from today, a business sized envelope from the Commonwealth of Virginia. Now I'm torn between opening Harm’s letter and opening an envelope that should be news about Tyler’s adoption.
I opt to open the letter from Virginia. If it's bad news, the letter from Harm will help restore my spirits. I read the letter and glance at the other pages. I see why some people don't want to adopt after reading the letter. What should be simple is laced with complicated legal jargon that would make the average person want to scream. Thank god I've gone to law school and I'm not intimidated by the wording. I read the letter a total of three times to be sure that I understand its contents. I put that letter to the side, too. When Harm calls tomorrow, we'll discuss it.
It's time for me to open Harm’s letter. We've communicated by telephone and by email, but this is the first letter that he's ever sent me. I take note of the postmark, January 24, 2006. He mailed it a few days after his return to London. As I begin to turn the envelope to reveal the sealing flap, I notice the notation in the bottom left hand corner, 'photos enclosed.'
After reading the notation, I quickly pull on a piece of the flap that isn’t securely glued down until I have access to the contents of the envelope. I pull out a folded piece of paper and unfold it so that I can grab the pictures before they fall out.
I recognize the face looking up at me from the top of the stack. It's Tyler. I stare at the photo for a moment before I look over each of the six pictures like I'll have to take a test about what I see when I'm finished. After I've carefully studied all the photos, I’m ready to read the note that Harm's enclosed.
Dear Mac,
I thought you'd like some of the pictures that I took of Tyler at the park the morning before I left Washington. There are a few more, but I kept them. You’ll have the real thing with you soon. Tyler took several of me, but I'm mailing them to him.
Know that my heart is with you and that I'm longing for the day when I can reach for you, and letters or words won't be necessary for you to know that I love you.
Miss you much,
Harm
How can such a short note from him bring forth such emotion from me? His first lines and the pictures are reassuring that our quest for Tyler will be completed. The last lines are sweet and tender, and leave me feeling special and loved.
Damn, my internal clock, breaking through my moment to alert me that I need to head back to the office. I return to the office, feeling much lighter and knowing that I'll be starving by dinner time. So, tonight, dinner will be something that I pick up on the way home.
I finish out the day and make a little progress on my lecture for the JAG conference.
We dine on take-out, and Mattie lets me read her letter from Tyler, and I let her read mine. We talk about the letter that came from Virginia and how they'll want to speak with her. We aren't on the subject of Tyler long before she switches to the topic of Paul and the dance.
SAME DAY
LONDON
Since defending Lt. Stanton, I’ve spent more time in a plane than in my apartment. I was back long enough to mail a couple of letters and do some damage control at the office before I was sent to Naples.
A snafu at some level threatened to derail the plans for relocation. Commander Manetti and I flew over and, though it took a week, we were able to resolve the issues and return to London.
I got back from Naples and had time to spend a day in the office before I was off to fly my carrier quals. I have to say that, no matter what else is going on in my life, there's still something about being in the cockpit of a fighter plane that makes me feel like I'm on top of the world. In the cockpit, you’re in control, yet you have a sense of freedom. It's... so many things. I think it was in the motorcycle shop when I rented that bike to go to Blacksburg that I saw a shirt for sale there that could explain it best. Of course, since it was talking about riding motorcycles, you’d have to substitute the word ‘ride’ with ‘fly.’ The shirt read: 'I could explain why I ride, but if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand the answer.'
I haven't missed a Saturday call, but I must say that I'm out of the email habit. The first couple of days, I managed to email, but when I was sent to Naples, I didn’t keep it up. I’m so far behind now that I’m not sure that I’ll ever catch up. On the carrier, I was there to fly and, with the current state of my office, I needed to get the job done and get back, so I flew every chance I could. I didn’t read any emails and sent only one.
I got back from the carrier on Monday. I dashed off a one or two line email to each of them that said that I was back on land. I read the first couple from each of them, dating back to when I was in Naples, but they were old news about Mattie’s doctor’s appointment and such that I knew from our phone call that weekend, so I decided to call it a night and go to bed.
My schedule probably isn’t going to ease up much anytime soon because I’ll be starting the 'behind the scenes' prep work for the move to Naples on Monday. The first week of my four week plan begins on the 27th. The only good thing about my hectic schedule is that I’ve been too busy to really think about how much I miss them.
After I'd read the rest of my emails this afternoon, I was sorry that I hadn't taken the time to read them sooner. Mattie has a date with an 18 year old senior. Mattie’s email says that Mac will meet Paul when he comes to pick her up for the dance on...hey, wait...that's tomorrow night. I know that Mattie's 17, but this is happening too fast for me. I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach.
I hope that Mac answers the door in uniform with an M-16 slung over her shoulder. While Paul waits for Mattie, Mac can strip down her weapon and put it back together so that he knows that she isn’t just carrying it for show - she knows how to use it. Wait, if he doesn’t run in fear... To an 18 year old male, a woman who can field strip a weapon and looks like Mac might give him ideas, and then he'll be in the car with my daughter, all hot and bothered. No, having Mac do that isn’t as good an idea as it sounded at first. I should be there...meeting a date is one of those things a dad needs to do.
I start to write a reply to Mattie's news, but I need to think about it before I respond. I wonder if I'll handle Tyler's first date any differently...and if I do, will it be because I've had longer to get used to the idea because I've already been through it with Mattie or because he's a boy?
I move through the rest of my day in a haze. My email awakening that Mattie's growing up and will soon be 18 and on her own will take me awhile to work through. I'm so looking forward to getting to my apartment and having a drink and a cigar.
I take a couple of sips of my cold beer and a puff of my cigar after I sit on the couch. I sit there, trying to form the words in my head for an email to either one of them. This isn't my usual after work routine, but tonight, I’m feeling a little down, and I need this selfish indulgence. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I’ll get up, take a run and eat a good breakfast before going to the office.
Hopefully, by the time I call them, I'll have absorbed this new information and be able to refrain from yelling into the phone, 'Mac, lock her in a room and shoot the boy on sight.'
After almost finishing a second beer, I lay back on the couch. I'm not getting into our bed without Mac tonight. I hope that I'll wake in the morning and find out that I've had a bad dream or that it was an hallucination because I ate bad tuna or something.
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