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Authors: Marilyn Pappano

BOOK: A Promise of Forever
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She turned in a circle, winding the chain around itself. “You want me to get out of the Army.” Her tone was flat, her words a foregone conclusion in her mind. And damn if she wasn’t right.

“Is that so much to ask?”

She did another circle. “No, of course not. After all, you’re the man and I’m the woman, so I should be the one to sacrifice.” She turned once again. “Your job is
not
more important than mine, Doc. And I can only be a soldier in so many places, while you can be a doctor anywhere.”

“It’s not just a job. It’s a career.”

“So is mine.” Lifting her feet into the air, she leaned back and let her head tilt, her hair flowing behind her, as the taut chain unwound itself. When it came to a stop, she stood and put her hands on her hips. “Even if I wanted to get out—which I don’t—I’ve got nearly two years left on this enlistment. What would you suggest? That you live your life and I live mine and we visit when we can and see other people when we can’t?”

At that moment, the sound of her voice made his head hurt. The question she was asking made his heart hurt. “No, Avi, I’m not suggesting—”

“You knew I was a soldier when you asked me to breakfast that Sunday. You knew that next weekend, I’d be kicking the dust of this town off my heels and heading to Georgia. Yet you still spent time with me, kissed me, made love with me—”

“I didn’t intend to fall in love with you!”

She drew back, blinked, then folded her arms across her middle. He’d earned that response from enough women in his life to know that nothing good ever came from it. But, as usual, Avi proved herself different. She didn’t display any anger, didn’t say anything flippant or hurtful. She breathed deeply a couple of times, then lowered her arms. “I didn’t intend to fall in love with you, either,” she admitted. “They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. If that’s where we’re headed, then it’s all your fault for being so damn lovable.”

He’d never felt less like laughing, not when everything inside him was tender and sore and aching, but it happened anyway. “No one, not even my mom, has ever called me lovable. Some of the nursing staff I work with think I’m cranky, even demanding.”

“You?
No.
” She looked aghast, but the humor in her eyes undermined it. She offered her hand, and he took it, rising from the swing. They started a slow stroll toward the sidewalk that circled the perimeter of the park.

“I get that you always wanted to have an Army career,” he said after a while. There was defeat in his voice. “But didn’t you ever consider that something else might come along? Something maybe worth giving it up for?”

She shook her head. “Do you know how many married military members there are? I just assumed I would be one of them. Be a soldier during the day and go home and be wife and mom the rest of the time. I figured whoever I married wouldn’t have a problem with the soldier part because, hey, I would already be a soldier when we met.”

“I can’t be the only person in the world who doesn’t want that life.”

“No, of course not. I’ve seen a lot of divorces. A lot of spouses who got tired of the hours, the deployments, the separations, the pay, the stress. But I assumed that wouldn’t be
my
spouse because I am Super Soldier.”

“I’m not Super Spouse.” The admission pained him, like a giant hand grabbing hold of his insides and squeezing hard. He had always believed with everything in him that his father’s heartbreak over the divorce had contributed to his death. He was more sure of it now than ever.

But he wasn’t his dad. He wouldn’t shut down over this. He might not be Army husband quality, but he was strong. He would miss Avi like hell for a while, and then he would move on. Eventually. Somehow.

“I’m sorry, Avi.”

Her only response for a long time was a squeeze of his fingers. It wasn’t until they’d reached the sidewalk and turned toward Main Street that she spoke. “It’s all right. Neither of us is any good at compromise. That’s good to know before Ben and Avi Junior come along.”

Ben rubbed the knot in his gut and bleakly said, “I could have lived my whole life without knowing.”

“Me, too.” Then she laughed and flashed him a wicked look. “I’ll ask Lucy to set you up. She’s got lots of single friends.”

There wasn’t a single tiny place inside him that felt like teasing. He dug deep, though, for a voice that didn’t sound miserable, for words that didn’t plead. “You do that, I’m putting a profile for you on every online dating site I can find.”

“I’ll hook you up with Iron Curtain brides wanting to come to the U.S.”

“I’ll post your picture and write your phone number on every men’s room wall in Georgia.”

“I’ll start a Facebook page: Find Ben Noble a Wife.”

“I’ll take semi-naked pictures of you, add your phone number and e-mail address, and put them on Instagram.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then said airily, “There can’t be any naked pictures if I don’t let you see me naked again.”

“You mean, no sex this week?” He didn’t need to feign the dismay in his voice. The thought was enough to scare him. Like saying good-bye to her did. Facing a future without her. Wondering how much he would lose—they would both lose—for their stubbornness.

“Only under cover of darkness. I’ll dress and undress in the bathroom behind locked doors, then disrobe under the covers.”

“You don’t have a robe,” he pointed out.

“I’ll buy one.”

They stopped at the next intersection to allow a car to pass. In the light from the streetlamp, she looked so damn beautiful and sweet and just the littlest bit sad. For a moment, just a moment, he wished he’d never met her, but immediately he recanted. Friday night he’d asked her,
Would you be willing to give up all the affection, all the memories, in exchange for getting rid of the pain?

He wouldn’t. Loving Avi was special. Losing her would break his heart, but the time with her was worth that. The heartbreak would eventually fade, scarred over, like his mother had said, but the memories would remain forever.

The best memories he’d ever had.

*  *  *

 

“What are you doing up so early?”

Avi lifted her cup from the coffeemaker, breathing deeply of the rich, bold aroma. She needed coffee every morning, but she absolutely could not start a Monday without it, the stronger, the better. Something had to jolt her heart and brain awake. “I thought I’d go to work with you today,” she said as she turned to face her mother.

Beth blinked. “Did your father coerce you into doing this?”

“No, I haven’t seen Dad yet this morning. I have experience, you know. GrandMir and Popi took me to the nursery all the time.”

“I’m not worried about your experience.” Beth swatted her as she passed to make her own coffee. “I’m worried about your muscles. Your dad’s starting a new project today, and if you’re there, he’ll surely rope you into helping him.”

“What kind of project?” Normally Avi didn’t use cream in her coffee, but her mother bought a bottled kind that was hazelnut flavored and incredibly rich. She used it with a heavy hand, then left the bottle for Beth. After her first sip, she closed her eyes and sighed happily.

“A fountain with a multi-level retaining wall creating terraces around it.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“Tell me that again after you spend your day lifting rocks and hauling dirt.”

“I don’t mind.”

Beth smiled at her. “Better you than me. I helped him build the first fountain. After that, I just flat refused. Since I passed the big five-oh, the only heavy lifting or bending I have to do is what I want.” She took two bagels from a plastic bag, sliced them, and popped them into the toaster, then got a tub of cream cheese out. “Do you still like the chive flavor?”

“I do.” Avi leaned against the counter, warming her hands on the coffee mug, taking an occasional heavenly sip. Since it was a Monday, and she hadn’t slept well the night before, it seemed a good time to ask a cheerless question. “Mom? Are you happy here?”

Beth leaned against another section of counter. “In Tallgrass? I love it. It’s home.”

“You don’t miss the house or your job or your friends in Tulsa?”

“The house and the job, no. Though I do wish I had a few more memories of you here. As far as my friends, I still see the ones I was really close to. They come here, I go there, or we meet in between. The ones who aren’t willing to make that effort…they’re missing out. And your father…”

The toaster popped up, and she fished out the bagels with her fingers, dropping them on saucers. Avi set down her coffee, smeared way too much cream cheese onto hers, then went to sit at the kitchen table.

Beth joined her a moment later. “Your dad is happier here than he ever was in Tulsa. He loves the nursery, the house, the town, the people. His job is more fun than work. He’s outside all the time, digging and building and plotting. The only thing that could make him happier is to have his little girl living here.” She hesitated, then added in an emotional voice, “That goes double for me. And in eight years, we plan to give you the retirement party and welcome-to-Tallgrass party to beat all parties.”

Breaking her life down into eight-year segments, the wait really wasn’t so long.

At the moment, it seemed like forever.

They ate their bagels and finished their coffee, then headed to Avi’s car together. It was a beautiful morning, so she put the top down. Even if it was freezing, she admitted, she would have put the top down and blasted the heater on high. It was just so fun, the wind blowing through her hair, the sun beaming on her skin. It made her feel ten years younger. Freer.

At the nursery, her dad had already started work on the fountain. It was located at the entrance, visible from the street, a temptation to customers going inside, a place for disinterested spouses to rest and wait. Beth gave the pallets of stone and bags of mortar mix a shuddering look, then disappeared into the cool, sweet-scented shadows inside.

Avi saluted sharply. “Sergeant First Class Avery Grant reporting for duty, sir.”

Her dad returned the salute just as sharply. “I’m glad to have the help, sweetheart.”

The first step was digging the foundation for the half-circle retaining wall. Avi picked up a shovel, jabbed the point into the dirt, and pushed hard with all her weight to sink the tool. Up came a spadeful of dirt, which she tossed into a wheelbarrow.

She’d missed hard work. Her leave had become a vacation from everything—not just her job, but also her diet and physical activity. She felt this work in her shoulders, her spine, and her legs, a challenge to her fitness that felt good.

By the end of the day, she’d lost the challenge. She was exhausted. Her hands under her work gloves were tender and red. The muscles along her shoulder blades burned, and she was soaked with sweat and dirt. It was only thanks to the ball cap and sunblock her mom had provided that she hadn’t burned to a crisp.

“You’re a trooper,” her father said, his arm around her as he surveyed their accomplishments. The footing was in place, along with most of the wall: ten feet across and two and a half feet high at the front, four at the back. The fountain would be built of the same stone, copying the curve of the wall, and flowers would fill the two levels of the wall.

“I’m a pooped trooper.” She carefully worked the band out of her hair, which was soaked to the scalp, then combed her fingers through it. “Do you work like this all the time?”

“Oh, no. No, no. Your mother’s wanted this fountain for a year, and I just got around to it today because I knew I could have your help if I needed it.”

“And you didn’t even need to ask.” She exhaled heavily. “I’m going to clean up, then head to Tulsa.”

“Be careful.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And stay the night. I don’t want you driving back when you’re this tired.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said with a wicked grin, remembering his comment about his thirty-year-old virgin daughter. She waved good-bye to her mom, waiting on a customer, then walked to her car.

Sundance was at the door when she got home, dancing the dance of joy. She didn’t get to spend days at the nursery yet, Beth had said, since the few times they’d tried taking her, she’d peed  in the flower beds and slipped off to sit in the middle of Main Street.  But Beth had hope. After all, she’d trained Avi up right, hadn't she?

Avi kicked off her shoes and socks so she wouldn’t track dirt inside, then let the dog out the back door. Stepping into the laundry room, she stripped down to her underwear before guzzling a bottle of cold water while waiting for the dog to finish her business. As soon as the setter came back in, Avi headed upstairs to shower.

She looked like crap in the bathroom mirror, but she’d looked worse. Iraq and Afghanistan had some hellacious sandstorms, called
haboobs
, and she’d been caught in her share, hunkered down, every exposed part of her turning brown or red. She had coughed and sneezed dust for the next six months.

After toweling off, she dressed again in a black jersey dress and piled her hair on top of her head. She put on makeup, sprayed cologne, and fastened a silver chain around her neck, then with a yawn and a shrug of her stiffened shoulders, she lay back on the bed just for a moment to let her spine relax. Maybe Ben could do some OMM on her as soon as he got home.

When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she noticed was that the sun was low on the horizon, its rays reaching only the bottom slats of the window blinds. Blinking, she checked the bedside clock, saw that it was nearly eight o’clock, and jumped up with a gasp. She grabbed her phone and called Ben’s number, wondering if her dress was too wrinkled, if she’d rubbed off her makeup, if her hair was sticking out at strange angles.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

His voice made her close her eyes and draw a deep, relaxing breath. “Hey, Doc. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t worry. Your mom called and said your dad worked you like a red-headed stepson.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“We decided it would be wiser to postpone tonight. She said she’ll throw you out after lunch tomorrow. She also said that if you wore something really tight and short and snug to this place called TwoSteps, you could pick up an entire work crew for nothing more than the cost of a few beers.”

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