Back to Yesterday (17 page)

Taking in another breath, I let it out and described it the best way I could.

“The sky is deceptive, mysterious, and moody. It is a master of disguise. It can be beautiful one minute and deadly the next. It can set you free or trap you in invisible barriers. The strands of wispy clouds can either hug you or suffocate you. It can be violent and unforgiving today and tomorrow it can whisper hope with its soft rays of light. There were times when I was flying that the sky felt too vast, too predatory, like the sky itself wanted to nip at my toes. Other times the sky hid me behind her wall of clouds, shielded me from my enemy, and acted as my protector. It is my Heaven and my Hell, and sometimes both at the same time.”

Breaking Sophie’s rule, I opened my eyes. She was staring at me, trying to read me I think, and I didn’t want her reading too much so I cleared my throat, stood, and walked over to the porch railing and leaned against it. “So, you think you could paint my sky?”

She sat motionlessly. “I don’t know if I could do it justice.”

“Sure you can,” I said, encouraging her. “You could paint anything you wanted.”

I was trying to keep my mouth moving and my mind silent because, in truth, I missed banding together with my brothers, side by side, eradicating evil from the Earth and celebrating our victories. I missed the brotherhood. I missed knowing that the guy flying next to me had my back and I had his. And yeah, I missed the connection I had with the sky because it was familiar; it was a part of me. I also knew that I would miss Sophie more than all of it combined.

Sophie walked up behind me and once again I felt her close proximity. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is you’re not talking about.”

“No, Sophie,” I said, turning around. “I don’t want to talk about anything. I want to do exactly this.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. The warmth of her mouth rejuvenated me. I felt the air snap and pop all around us. I kissed her deeper, longer. I held her stronger, tighter. I could do this for the rest of my life and it would never be enough.

“Hudson! Is that you?”

I peeled myself from Sophie’s lips long enough to see who was calling out to me. A man was standing on the curb in front of Sophie’s house wearing a United States Air Corp uniform, same as mine.

“Hot damn! It is you!”

I moved towards him, bringing Sophie with me. When I got closer I couldn’t believe he was here. Peterson and I flew together in Europe many times. I held out my hand.

“Damn, Peterson, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Furlough, man. Been here for three weeks. Can’t believe I hadn’t run into you before now.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I forgot you were from here. How long until you have to go back?”

“Head out next week. Say, who’s this?” Peterson’s eyes were on Sophie.

I let go of her hand and pulled her towards me by her waist. “This is Sophie McCormick. My girl,” I said proudly.

Peterson extended his hand and Sophie reciprocated. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Likewise,” Sophie said.

“Say, you wanna grab a beer or something? Do some catching up?”

I did and I didn’t. I wanted to hear how the guys were doing. However, since I wouldn’t be going back I also
didn’t
want to hear how the guys were doing.

“Maybe some other time. Sophie and I have a date.”

“She can come too. Come on, what do you say?”

“Why don’t you go ahead, Charlie,” Sophie said. “We can go out tomorrow. Go catch up with your friend.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes of course. I’ve got to clean up here anyway,” she said, waving towards the art supplies scattered all over the porch.

“Tell you what,” I said to Peterson. “Meet me at the bar on the corner. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Sure thing.” He tipped his hat to Sophie. “Ma’am.”

I waited for Peterson to leave before addressing Sophie again. “You didn’t have to do that. I could have met up with him tomorrow.”

“No, I want you to have a beer with your friend.” She patted my chest. “It’s okay, really.”

If I had to choose between Sophie and anyone else in the world I would always choose Sophie. I sighed and rested my forehead against hers. “Tomorrow, me and you. No interruptions.”

“Okay, Hudson. It’s a date. Now go on. Don’t keep him waiting.”

I kissed her, and got maybe five feet away when she called out to me.

“Charlie!”

Turning around, I said, “Miss me already?”

She smiled and then it faltered a fraction. “The sky is the soul of the Earth.”

“What?”

“If I had to describe the sky in one sentence,” she said, “that’s what I would say because that’s how you painted it for me. That’s art – giving life to something, whether you use paint or words.” She fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. “I just wanted to tell you that I could picture it.” She tapped her temple. “Right here.” And then she tapped her chest. “And here.”

She turned and walked up the porch steps. “See you tomorrow, Charlie.”

She slipped inside and I stood there and waited for her bedroom light to come on before I walked away. I put my hands in my pockets and started up the street.

See you tomorrow, Sophie.

~ London Grammar

Strong

I
sat in my truck across the street from the café and thought about all that had happened in the last couple of months. Through the windows, I could see Sophie working, laughing with Elizabeth and conversing with her customers.

The holidays had come and gone and I’d spent them with Sophie and her parents. For Christmas, I had given Sophie a book my mother had kept of famous quotes and poems. Words that she had read over the years that had influenced her in some way, and as a tribute, she had copied them down and passed it on to me. I don’t know why I had given it to Sophie. I suppose it was me wanting to share my mother with the woman I’d given my heart to. They would never meet but giving Sophie the book felt like a form of introduction into the heart and mind of my mom.

Sophie had stared at the book when she opened it, and after I had told her what it was, she held it in her hands like it was the most precious thing she had ever touched. I knew then that I had done the right thing and it would be in good hands.

She had given me a present, too. A painting of the sky… like the one I had described to her, only a better version of it. The majority of the painting was dark with breaks of light shining in between the cracks. It was ominous and hopeful, devilish and angelic, fearful and fearless.

It was perfect.

On New Year’s Eve, I’d taken Sophie dancing to a swanky place in the city. She most liked swing dancing, and I liked swinging her around. I wore my uniform and she wore a pale pink dress that showed more leg than her usual dresses. I wasn’t complaining either. Her shoes were red and she wore her hair down in soft, silky waves, pinned away from her face on one side. She was a picture of perfection.

Sophie and I danced the Lindy Hop to a live band on stage. And at one point there was a Jitterbug contest. My chest swelled just thinking about how much Sophie smiled while we tried to out dance all the others. She beamed like the moon and it was magnificent. We didn’t win, but I didn’t much care. All that mattered to me was having fun with Sophie, and that night will always be one of my favorite memories. At the stroke of midnight, I kissed her long and deep, and I’d made a wish on that kiss that the coming year would be everything we needed it to be.

Now, here we were with the holidays behind us, a new year beginning, and I wasn’t going to be able to share it with her.

White knuckling the steering wheel, I thought back on the promises I’d made to Sophie, in front of her parents no less. I’d promised her that I wouldn’t leave, that I was staying here. My intentions were honest. I really did believe that. However, life throws punches, and sadly I got hit with a pretty hard one.

I didn’t want to tell her. Hell, I’d already delayed telling her as long as I could. It already felt like I was lying to her, and lying to Sophie was something I vowed I would never do.
That
vow is something nothing or no one could ever make me break. Although, I’d also promised I would never break her heart and what I had to tell her most definitely would.

When that thought came to me a wave of anger and rage billowed in my gut and spilled over like a volcanic eruption. I pounded the steering wheel hard with my fists repeatedly, cursing myself, certain I had made the wrong decision.

I had gone back on my word. And it would crush her.

Even worse, I couldn’t undo it.

I rested my head on the wheel, begging myself to get it together. I had to hold it together.

I counted to ten – then twenty – then thirty. Little by little my breathing evened out. I looked again through the café windows and allowed Sophie’s smile to take hold of my brokenness and patch it up, if only for a while. Only one of us was allowed to crumble and it couldn’t be me.

Climbing out of the truck, I crossed the street. Feigning bravery I didn’t own, I opened the door to the café. The bell overhead sounded cheery and for half a second I wanted to rip it off the door and smash it to the ground, along with all of its mockery.

I might have done exactly that if I hadn’t caught Sophie’s eyes first and every brutal thought I’d had vanished. When she smiled at me there was nothing I could do but smile in return. Her smiles were contagious. They seeped into your skin, made their way into your bloodstream until they became a part of you, and consumed you. The choice to smile back wasn’t even yours to make.

Briefly, my mind drifted to when it all started to change, and it began the day I’d met Peterson for a few beers. I was relieved when he didn’t want to talk about the war any more than I wanted to hear about it, so when we small talked our way around each other, never hitting on anything too personal, I was grateful for the camaraderie. Until I got ready to leave. I’d slapped him on the shoulder, shook his hand, and he’d pulled me into a hug.

“It was good seeing you, Charles.” His voice sounded off, wounded even.

A wave of guilt settled over me like a dark cloud. He would be going back to a war zone and I had made it so that I wouldn’t be. I couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Yeah,” I said. “You too.” I cleared my throat. “We should do this again.” I patted his shoulder once more and made my way around him, heading for the door.

“You were the best pilot we had,” he called out, causing me to pause. “I learned a lot from you. You should know that.”

I looked over my shoulder. His body was stiff and I couldn’t read his expression. Most likely because he didn’t want me to know what he was thinking.

“Tell the guys…” I trailed off, trying to summon the words I wanted to say, and tried again. “Tell the guys…”

I smacked the palm of my hand against the wall out of frustration because I couldn’t get the words to come.

“I got you,” Peterson said, understanding laced underneath his words, or perhaps I was only hoping he understood. “I’ll tell them.”