Hunter - Big Girls & Bad Boys (4 page)

“Does that have milk in it?” Daisy asked, referring to my ice cream.

“Yeah,” I told her and then added, “I won’t tell if you take a bite or two.” Daisy looked around, almost as if someone might see her.

“Okay,” she replied and grabbed a spoon before joining me. Ice cream could make the most zealous vegan bend the rules. We huddled around my Macbook and I fired up Netflix. This was better than a date with a Marine, right? Right? Sure it was. Watching Netflix with my roommate while eating ice cream wasn’t pathetic and sad when I could have been with Hunter if only I knew when to keep my big mouth shut.

>>O<<

Life goes on. The guy you could have fallen for turns out to be the so-called enemy so you move on. An entire semester went by. By October I was hardly thinking about the one that got away. By Halloween, I’d met another guy but by Thanksgiving that had already fizzled and without so much as losing my panties in the heat of the moment. Then finals dominated my life until Christmas break. Daisy and I had spent many a weekend at this anti-war rally or that war protest over the autumn.

“You going home?” I asked Daisy one evening as we sat hunched at our desks studying.

“For the Holidays? Yeah, the folks are getting antsy to see me,” she replied.

“You guys do a big Christmas?” I wondered. I needed a short break from pouring over my notes in preparation for my final exams.

“Yeah, we invite people over, have a big dinner, it’s fun,” she told me. “You?” Daisy asked.

“I’m not going home. My mom and dad just sit in the living room, drinking and arguing. It’s no fun,” I told her.

“Sorry, are they...you know...getting divorced?” Daisy asked.

“No. That’s just the way they are. They’ve been that way since I can remember. It gets old,” I told her.

“So, what are you going to do?” she wondered.

“Enjoy the peace and quiet. I might head down to the homeless shelter and help feed the poor. Or maybe I’ll just curl up with a few dozen good books, some ice cream and never leave the room,” I told her.

“That sounds...actually, that sounds heavenly. My family’s Christmas is fun but hectic. I need a vacation to recover usually,” Daisy told me.

“Honestly, that sounds nice. I’m an only child and it was always just the three of us. I wish I had a bigger family,” I told Daisy. She shrugged. The grass was always greener, right? Finals came and went and soon I was alone with my books and ice cream. I didn’t mind. It was pleasant after the pressure of finals and traveling during the Holidays was always a pain. Even so, after a few days I was itching to get out of my dorm room so I went down to the shelter I volunteered at sometimes.

I was a poor college student but compared to some, I was living large. Volunteering was the least I could do. Beyond soothing my guilt, the shelter also helped cement my stance on war. Daisy saw the men and women in the military as willing tools of the military-industrial complex. I saw them largely as victims of an uncaring government bent on projecting its power around the globe. The homeless veterans at the shelter tore at my heart. They, like the people in the war torn countries where America waged war, were victims of the conflicts.

So, when I arrived at the shelter I expected to help out, put a smile on some people’s faces and feel good about myself at the end of the day. I greeted the other volunteers, most of whom knew me, and got ready to help. They wanted me in the kitchen instead of the serving line. That was a bit disappointing since I loved interacting with the shelter’s inhabitants.

“Sylvia, can I get out front?” I asked one of the shelter’s managers.

“Well, maybe later. We’ve actually got more help than we need. I’ll move some people around though,” she replied.

“Well, at least we’ve got a lot of help. Thanks,” I told her.

“Yeah, typical holiday. Two days into the New Year, we’ll be scrounging for help,” Sylvia lamented.

“I’ll see if I can’t find some time to help,” I offered though I probably didn’t mean it. Sylvia smiled. I don’t think she believed me either.

I’d rather be out serving but this wasn’t about me, or so I told myself, so I went to work cutting vegetables, washing and drying dishes and anything else I could find to do to help out. I spent maybe two hours there. It was Christmas Eve and the shelter was full but even more people were there just for a free meal. I barely had a chance to think about anything until Sylvia called out to me.

“Yes?” I replied.

“Put on a clean apron, Melinda. Iris needs a break,” Sylvia told me. I did as she asked, eager to serve and speak with the homeless we served.

“It’s a circus out there,” Iris told me as I relieved her.

“It always is on holidays,” I replied. Iris left the gravy ladle in the pot for me to take over. I hopped right in the serving line, picked up the ladle and poured a fair amount on the mashed potatoes sitting naked on the tray in front of me. It was Christmas, after all, and there were always plenty of donations this time of year. I wish that were the case during the rest of the year.

“Merry Christmas,” I told the older woman across the counter.

“Don’t be shy with the gravy, girl,” she replied and winked at me.

“Okay,” I said.

“Happy Hanukkah,” she told me and moved along. Then I looked over to see who was serving up the mashed potatoes and stopped cold. I just stared until Madge on the opposite side poked me.

“Keep it moving,” she urged me. That’s when Hunter looked down at me.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t anti-war Mel,” he said, a smirk on his face.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him as I mindlessly poured gravy on the potatoes Hunter plopped on the trays.

“I’m on liberty for the Holidays. Just doing what us baby killers do on our time off, serve up meals to the poor,” he said facetiously. We were too busy to get into our personal matters right then but suddenly, I was off kilter. What I’d hoped would be an enjoyable time turned into a jumble of emotions and memories.

“Nice to see you,” I told him, at a loss for what else to say. It wasn’t.

“You look good,” he replied. I glared up at Hunter as he looked down on me and smiled mischievously. Damn it. Now, he had me all out of sorts. We didn’t say much, nothing at all actually as I tried actively to avoid conversing with Hunter, as the time wore on. Thankfully, Sylvia announced even more reinforcements had arrived, people eager to do good on Christmas Eve I suppose. I took the opportunity to give up my prized spot on the serving line.

I went in back, removed my apron and grabbed my coat. I was half way out the door, not running really...okay, running away from Hunter. I didn’t want to face him. I felt bad enough for the way things had ended but I didn’t need him to rub it in. Besides, there was no denying the attraction either. I remembered our tryst fondly, though it was tainted by our failed date.

“Off so soon?” Hunter greeted me as I descended the steps outside the back door. I jumped, startled by his sudden appearance.

“How’d you get here so quick?” I asked.

“I’m a special operator. I’m like a ninja,” he said flatly.

“So, what do you want? You want to tell me how much of a bitch I was?” I asked him.

“Well, you were kind of bitchy at dinner,” he reminded me.

“And you weren’t being a jerk? You left me there. I had to take a bus back to campus and walk another quarter mile in those stupid fuck me heels,” I told Hunter, a tinge of anger in my words.

“Was I supposed to sit there and listen to you demean me and the Marines? You have an opinion, so that gives you the right to pontificate upon others? Is that it?” Hunter asked me.

“No, that’s not it at all. I didn’t know you were a Marine,” I said in my defense.

“Oh, so it’s okay to demean others as long as they’re not there to defend themselves?” Hunter asked calmly. I was getting agitated but he was as relaxed as if we were discussing the weather over coffee.

“I didn’t say that. Stop putting words into my mouth. I just didn’t know otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it up. Look, just because you love being a Marine and fighting doesn’t mean I can’t feel the way I do,” I replied defensively.

“No, that’s true. But let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a tool and I’m not a victim. Remember who’s putting their ass on the line so you continue to enjoy the right to speak your mind,” he told me.

“As if. Like my rights are threatened by the terrorists,” I told him, sure I’d taken the wind out of Hunter’s dramatic declaration. I didn’t.

“That’s right. Because of men like me. If it weren’t for Marines and soldiers, sailors and airmen, you’d be ruled by a king, speaking German or wearing a burka. There’s evil in this world, Mel, and someone’s got to confront it. I respect your beliefs but most of what you believe is propaganda and lies. The bad guys don’t want to play nice, they don’t want to talk. They want to kill and subjugate,” Hunter explained.

All war was bad but sometimes it was necessary. But these wars went beyond defense of our national interests. They were aggression on our part. We were trying to build nations in our image. We were trying to force our values on others.

“We shouldn’t be nation building. We shouldn’t be taking their oil. We shouldn’t be forcing our culture on those people. What right do we have?” I countered.

“I agree, Mel,” Hunter said. That took me by surprise and now the wind had left my sails.

“You do?” I asked, my anger and frustration wilted.

“Of course. But you haven’t seen the shit I’ve seen. It’s not that black and white. Should we just destroy a corrupt and aggressive government and leave anarchy in our wake? Should we let the bad guys fill the power vacuum? Girls go to school over there now. People are building lives where before they were beaten, jailed and killed. You’re right, we shouldn’t force them to be like us, but we shouldn’t leave them to die and suffer either. Good old fashioned American values and democracy is better than what they had,” Hunter said.

I couldn’t argue with that. America wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t bad. Far from it. I looked at the shelter behind me. It was full of the poor and disaffected but they were the exception, not the rule, despite what some would have others believe. Maybe Hunter was right. Maybe what we were doing wasn’t ideal but maybe it was better than the alternative. That didn’t mean I was onboard with the wars but maybe I could see that there might be another side. In any case, lecturing Hunter on a date wasn’t what I was about.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Me too. I shouldn’t have left you sitting in the restaurant. That was an asshole thing to do,” Hunter said. His apology shocked me.

“Really?” I asked him.

“Really, really,” he told me and upon seeing I wasn’t fully convinced he explained. “You know what Semper Fidelis means?” he asked.

“I’ve heard it but no,” I admitted.

“Semper Fidelis, or just plain Semper Fi, means always faithful. That’s what Marines are...to our brothers, to our duty and even to our code of honor. I was a jerk. Marines aren’t jerks. I’m sorry,” he told me. I didn’t know what to say but Hunter, beat me to it. “Can I make it up to you?” he asked me. Make it up to me? I was convinced thirty-seconds before that I was the one in the wrong and he wanted to make it up to me?

“Why? We obviously don’t see eye to eye on some pretty important stuff,” I said.

“I like a challenge...and...,” Hunter said but left his thought hanging.

“And what?” I wondered curiously. Hunter suddenly looked out of sorts but it didn’t last long. He steadied his nerve and smiled at me.

“And I can’t forget that night we spent together, Mel,” he told me. I felt my jaw fall open as I stood there letting that soak in. I was speechless but one thing kept looping through my mind and I felt compelled to say it.