On Distant Shores, Page 2

  Chapter Two – Then

  “I hate the military,” Jo wasn’t taking the news about Mike missing the ultra sound well.

  “I know,” he sympathized.

  She pointed at him, “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “Patronize me.”

  He held his hands up, “Not my intent at all.”

  “And Gary knows about the ultra sound?” she asked.

  Mike nodded, “Yes, I mentioned it before he told me about the mission.”

  “And he still wants to send you?”

  Mike nodded, not willing to risk speaking at this moment.

  “And there’s nobody else that he can send?”

  Mike nodded, “The other teams are all on mission. We’re the only team with people still on leave.”

  She glared at him, “And you have to go?”

  Mike nodded again, “different service, better to have an officer there, and Captain Bostak isn’t back from leave yet.”

  She thought for a moment, “I can call Rose, and have her talk to him.”

  Mike’s eyebrow rose, and he grew very still. He had a warning look in his eyes, “That would not be a good idea at all.”

  Jo thought a moment longer, then the tension in her body released, and her shoulders dropped in defeat. “So you’ll be gone for three weeks?” she asked.

  Mike was at the sink in the island, making sure most of the food was off the dishes before he put them into the dishwasher. Jo was on the other side of the island, facing him.

  The atmosphere in the room eased, and he spoke softly, “Yeah, baby, we leave Monday morning and then we’ll be back in three weeks.” Mike watched Jo mull this over in her mind, knowing he wasn’t completely out of the woods yet. Mike worked in silence, knowing that Jo needed time to come to grips with the mission.

  Jo walked over and sat at the table, watching Mike prepare the dishes for cleaning. She was very unhappy, but it wasn’t Mike’s fault that he wouldn’t be there for the ultra sound. It was the damn military again. She couldn’t wait until he was retired from the Army.

  The dogs were outside so that Mike and Jo could enjoy their meals without enduring the sad eyes and searching noses while they ate eggplant lasagna. Vegetable dishes were such a disappointment to the dogs. He scraped food into plastic holders for leftovers on Thursday. There wasn’t a lot left of the lasagna. Mike was a very good cook. That was one of the things that attracted Jo to him, that and his sense of humor. She went out with several military guys when she first arrived at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, and most of them were way too serious about themselves, a little on the arrogant side. Some were a lot on the arrogant side. After some of the egos she ran into, dating Mike, with his self-deprecating humor, and easy going personality, had been a breath of fresh air for her.

  They went out on a few dates, and then he asked her to come over for dinner. After the beef tenderloin cooked with rosemary and garlic, the cabernet sauvignon from Argentina, and the tiramisu for desert, she was very impressed. She didn’t want to leave that night, and he didn’t want her to leave. When she woke up the next morning after a very tender but intense performance the night before, she found that Mike had gotten out of bed and made her a three cheese omelet. She was in love.

  The next few months were amazing, and Mike proposed. He told her that he was leaving for a new assignment at Fort Carson, Colorado, and he couldn’t contemplate a life without her. He didn’t want to have a long distance relationship. He wanted her to go with him to Fort Carson. She said yes, even though it had only been three months.

  Her family was stunned by the news. Her girlfriends from home were amazed that she was getting married. They all thought that she would be the last one down the aisle, especially after hearing about her experiences with the men around Fort Bragg. When they pressed her about getting married without really knowing the guy, she just replied, “He’s the one.”

  Her mom, Karen, flew down from Syracuse to talk her out of marrying Mike. After talking to Jo, and meeting Mike, she flew back to New York and told the rest of the family, “He’s the one.” After that, the family, somewhat reluctantly, was able to accept Mike as one of their own.

  It was completely different on his side of the family. His dad, Jack, and his stepmother, Allison, were completely ecstatic that he was getting married. They despaired that he would never find the right woman. He wasn’t a big dater, on the quiet side until he got to know someone, and with 50,000 military men in the area, available women were scarce. Available women that were quality were even scarcer. So they were overjoyed when the engagement and the wedding were announced.

  Three years later, now that they were expecting, the families on both sides were excited for them. Allison and Karen both flew into Colorado Springs on the same weekend, to spend some quality time with Jo. Mike was peripheral during the whole weekend. Allison hugged him, said “Girl talk, sweetie,” and shooed him from the proceedings.

  Mike was so grateful that Karen and Jo embraced Allison as an equal, and as a friend. Allison may be his stepmother, but she was the only mother he had ever known. His mother passed away when he was two years old. Allison gave him nothing but love, kindness and understanding since she came into his life. He had a step-brother and a step-sister, but to him, Craig and Sarah were his brother and sister. Since he was the oldest, he always looked out for them when they were growing up. When Allison met Jo’s mom, Karen, those two became fast friends. They talked to each other more than they talked to Mike and Jo.

  It was different with Jo’s father, Vince, and Mike’s dad, Jack. Jack was a State Trooper for Georgia. Vince was an investment banker. Plus, Mike’s dad was a Republican, and Jo’s dad was a Democrat. Not a whole lot of common ground there. So, they kind of ignored each other if they were in close proximity.

  Still, both were pretty happy to be grandparents. And, while Vince was a Democrat, he was more of an old school, blue collar Democrat, despite his work. He was secretly pleased that his son-in-law was Special Forces. Of course, neither family knew that he was a Tier 1 operator. Mike’s dad had been a soldier in the 82nd Airborne, and he had a pretty good idea of what Mike’s job entailed, though.

  Married life had been an even bigger change than Jo anticipated. Right before they got married, Mike told her what his job was. She knew he was Special Forces, but didn’t know he was Tier 1. She didn’t even know what Tier 1 meant until he explained it to her. Jo learned that she couldn’t question too closely what Mike’s job entailed or what missions he went on, but she had met all of the team, and she stayed in tune with what was happening.

  “So Rob went down to Mr. Owens office?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Mike nodded his head, relieved, knowing that, with this question, the crisis was over, and he was off the hook, “Oh yeah, he did.”

  Jo heard stories about the retired Sergeant Major’s capability for creative phrasing when describing the reproductive process. She met Mr. Owens a few times, but never experienced his expertise. Since Mr. Owens considered himself a gentleman, he never displayed his verbal capabilities to her. Even the team wouldn’t talk to her about Mr. Owens’ extensive vocabulary, except in terms that didn’t adequately demonstrate his abilities. Some of the other wives in the unit heard a few things, and relayed them to her. What little she heard raised her eyebrows and made her blush.

  “And,” she asked.

  “Well, what Rob described would have to be anatomically impossible unless you’re contemplating shackles, a teeter-totter, and a mission impossible style cat suit. I don’t know how else you would be able to accomplish it.”

  Jo looked at him in all seriousness, “You’re making that up, aren’t you?”

  Mike shook his head, “Nope, I couldn’t even if I tried.

  Jo took a few minutes to try and wrap her mind around the possibility. She just wasn’t able, and after a few minutes, shook her
head as if she was coming out of a trance, “I can’t even visualize that, and if I did, I’m not sure I would want that particular image stuck in my head for the rest of my life.”

  Mike agreed, “Yeah, better for you if you didn’t. I may have nightmares for a very long time.”

  Jo got up and walked around the island to Mike. She still had a glass of wine in her hand. Mike was just finishing up at the sink. The dishwasher next to him was open, stacked with dishes, plates, cutlery, and glasses.

  She stood behind him and put her arm around his stomach as he scrubbed out the sink, and washed his hands. She laid her head against his back. She wanted him to know that she appreciated him making dinner for her, and that she knew it wasn’t his fault that he wouldn’t be there for the ultra sound.

  Mike continued with the dishes and just enjoyed the feeling of having her close to him. He loved her so much, and anything that hurt her, hurt him. He knew this was her way to apologize. This feeling was his life, what he kept with him, this closeness, deep inside his psyche when he was out on mission. It was this feeling that would ensure that he always came home to her, even if he had to walk through the gates of hell to do so.

  Jo knew this. There was a stillness around Mike whenever she did this. She could feel the way his muscles moved across his back as his hands and arms moved to finish the dishes. When he was done, he grabbed the towel and wiped his hands on it. He turned and put his arms around Jo. She leaned into his chest, sat the glass of wine on the counter, and put her arm around him. She looked up into his eyes.

  “You know, since I can’t visualize what Mr. Owens was talking about, maybe you could show me.”

  Mike looked up in contemplation and thought for a few moments.

  “Well, we may be able to use a sauce pan and the vacuum cleaner, but I don’t think we have a folding ruler.”

  Jo asked, “Well, I have a duster in the hall closet, will that work?”

  Mike replied, “That completely depends on whether or not we have a tennis ball handy.”

  Jo looked at him, smiling, “You’re so full of shit.”

  Mike leaned down to kiss her, “Yes I am.”

  The tenseness from earlier was completely gone, and emotions had shifted into a completely different direction. Mike used his foot to slide the dish rack into the dishwasher. He used the same foot to kick the dishwasher door up to close it. He felt around until he found the button to turn it on. Feelings became intense. Hands were roaming under shirts, and buttons were being unbuttoned. Newly bared skin was covered in kisses.

  Jo yelped in a quiet, but not unpleased voice.

  “Your hands are cold.”

  “Hellooo, just did the dishes and washed my hands,” Mike replied.

  “Let me help you warm those up.”

  The intensity increased. Clothes were coming off. Mike picked up Jo and started to put her up on the counter of the island.

  “No, that’s wet and cold.”

  “Couch?” he asked.

  “Lazyboy?” she countered.

  Admiration entered his voice, “very daring, young lady.”

  She giggled. Mike picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her into the living room, maneuvering to keep from tripping over furniture. Jo continued pulling off clothes, hers and his. The clothes landed on the floor, marking the trail to the Lazyboy. Soon there were no more clothes, and there was no more talking.

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  They lay on the couch, under a blanket, enjoying the aftermath, a trail of destruction marking their path across the kitchen and living room. The sound of light rain on the roof added to the comfort of the moment. They lay there, Mike on the bottom, Jo laying on top of him. One of his arms was behind his head, the other around her. Jo had both arms under her, one hand on his stomach, the other tracing a design around his nipple. She lay with her head on his chest so that she could listen to his heartbeat.

  “I don’t think I put any soap in the dishwasher.”

  Jo smiled, “I think you were a little busy at the moment.”

  “True.”

  There was a pause.

  “Oh crap,” Mike said.

  Jo’s face went from content to curious.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I just thought about the table scraps for Moira and Fiona.”

  Jo thought for a moment, “Oh crap.”

  Mike nodded, “Yep.”

  Jo asked, though she already knew the answer, “They’re still outside, aren’t they?”

  Mike answered, “Yep.”

  Jo sighed. She listened to the rain, “Wet puppies.”

  Mike answered again, “Yep.”

  Jo sat up, glorious in her nudity. Mike drank in the sight of her beauty like a thirsty man. Mike was lying naked underneath her. She ran one hand over his stomach, enjoying the reactions of his body.

  “Do you want the dogs, or do you want the clothes?” she asked.

  He thought about it, not wanting to let go of the moment. He sighed, “I’ll take the dogs. You get the clothes.”

  Jo stood up and started grabbing clothes off of the floor. Mike sat up and looked around for his boxer shorts. If the clothes weren’t picked up, there was a very good chance that the dogs would be running around the house with Mike or Jo’s underwear in their mouths.

  Mike sat there watching her body as she moved to pick up the clothes.

  “Hey, perv.”

  Mike smiled, stood up and walked over to her. He placed his hand on her ass and pinched her cheek. He kissed her as he did so. She squealed when he pinched.

  “It’s a good thing the dogs were outside,” he stated.

  Jo laughed, “Yeah, there’s nothing like a wet nose to spoil the mood.”

  Mike chuckled. He found his boxers and put them on. He walked to the kitchen door, and sure enough, there were two wet, bedraggled dogs sitting on the stoop. Fiona whined as he looked out the door at them. Doggy smiles with wet tongues tickled his legs as he let them in. He herded them back to the door so that they wouldn’t run through the house, getting everything wet.

  “Babe, help, need towels.”

  He heard quick footsteps as Jo ran to the room, dumped the clothes on the bed, and then ran to get towels. He was about to lose the game that the dogs were intent on playing, when she came in with the towels they used for the dogs. She was dressed now, taking the time to pull on shorts and a t-shirt when she was in the bedroom. She wrapped Moira up in a towel and started drying her off. Mike grabbed Fiona and started drying her. The towels were bitten and tugged by the dogs, more interested in playing than getting dry. It took a while, but eventually, the dogs were dry, the floor mopped up, and the frenetic energy in the dogs wound down. Mike put the scraps and food in the bowl for the dogs, and they were busy eating.

  Jo stood beside Mike. He put his arm around her, and she leaned her head against him. She sighed, “One more disaster averted.”

  Mike smiled, “You know it’s going to get worse with two or three kids in the mix.”

  “Yeah, but they’ll be our kids, and our mess to deal with.” She studied him, “Think you can handle it, big guy.”

  He looked at her, “Honestly, it’s a little overwhelming for me. I trained to deal with death and destruction. Raising kids,” he looked back at the dogs, “and praying that I’m doing a good job, hoping that I don’t screw up and raise serial killers,” he paused, “that scares the hell out of me.”

  Jo stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be right here with you.”

  “Thank God. If kids are half as bad as those two, I’ll need all the help I can get,” Mike put his arms around Jo, and squeezed.

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  He woke up thirty minutes before the alarm. Whenever he had a trip or a mission, he woke up early. Something in his psyche would bring him out of a deep
sleep so that he wouldn’t be late. It was Monday, and Mike had to get on the road early. He lay next to Jo, listening to her breath, her chest rising and falling. He moved carefully and turned off the alarm. He didn’t want to wake her. He lay motionless, listening to the stillness of the house and the soft patter of rain on the roof. He looked over occasionally at the alarm clock to see the time, and watched the countdown until he had to get out of bed. The alarm clock displayed 0415 hours, 4:15 AM in civilian speak. He moved slowly to get out of bed. Jo stirred, then rolled over and went back to sleep. He walked softly through the bedroom and out into the kitchen. He shut the door to the bedroom. Then he flipped on the lights.

  The dogs were in their kennels. Jo took them on Friday to the vet, to get them spayed. Mike and Jo went on Saturday afternoon to pick them up. Neither one was very happy with the operation, and needed a lot of attention on the way to the truck. They walked into his legs, and tried to hide under cars, not understanding the source of the discomfort. He and Jo spent the day feeding the girls drugs for infection and pain. Jo sat with Fiona, and Mike sat with Moira, just petting them so that they would calm down, and stay calm. They watched movies and ate popcorn while they sat with the girls. They spoiled them with doggy treats, and cuddled them. The dogs slept intermittently while the movies played.

  His bag was packed and sitting on the couch. The clothes he was going to wear were laid out next to the bag. He walked to the spare bathroom for his morning wash. After a hot shower and shave, he was wide awake. He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Jo was up and cooking eggs, sausage, with premade, quick cooking biscuits in the oven. She was wearing a robe over her usual tank top and pajama bottoms.

  He walked over and gave her a squeeze and a kiss, “And I was trying so hard to keep from waking you. You didn’t have to get up and make breakfast.”

  Jo blinked sleepily at him, “What kind of wife would I be if I let my man leave the house for three weeks without a good breakfast?”

  “A well-rested one, baby,” he replied. He patted her on her stomach, “I’d rather you and the baby get a good rest.”

  She shooed him away, “The baby and I are fine. Go put some clothes on before I jump you and make you late for work.”

  Mike laughed, “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Good point, and no, there isn’t. But you have to go to work, and I’m not going to be the reason you get into trouble,” she replied.

  “Okay, okay, you win. I’ll get dressed.”

  He walked away, and looked over at the dogs. There was no way they would be asleep with the smell of eggs and sausage in the air. He could see the soft, pleading eyes in the kennels, “Looks like the girls are awake.”

  “Babe, when you get some clothes on, can you let them out into the backyard? They probably need to pee.”

  “Yep, I’ll get that done.”

  He walked to the couch, let the towel drop, and put on the clean clothes. He put on khakis, a polo shirt, and work boots. He put his belt on, then walked over to the cabinet and pulled out the holstered Sig P220 .45 and threaded it onto the belt. On the other hip he put two spare magazines. The brown leather belt, brown leather holster, and brown leather magazine holders with the basket weave design had been his birthday present from Jo.

  When he was dressed he let the dogs out of the kennel and carefully herded them to the back door so they wouldn’t get too excited and pee on the floor. The drugs in their systems made that possibility a little more likely. The dogs went outside, walked around sniffing, then did their business and came back to the house, hoping to get in on the breakfast scraps. Mike left them outside so that he could have breakfast in peace. He could hear Fiona whine.

  Mike sat down at the table and put butter and jam on the biscuits. The eggs were scrambled with onion and peppers. Jo sprinkled cheese over the top, and he put salt and pepper on the eggs.

  “You know, you should at least taste them before you season them.”

  Mike nodded contritely, “I’m sorry, chef, it’ll never happen again.”

  “Yes it will,” Jo stated as she kissed him on the top of the head. She placed a brown bag on the table.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “For the road. I put biscuits with butter, eggs, sausage, and cheese in there. There are six of them.”

  Mike grabbed her hand and kissed it. He tucked into the breakfast and polished off the food so he wouldn’t be late. He finished his coffee, stood and turned to Jo.

  She melted into his arms, and put her head on his chest, “Are you going to call me when you get there?”

  “I will if I’m allowed to. Hopefully it won’t be a problem. You know how it is.”

  “Okay,” She rested her head against his chest. She definitely knew how it was. She was always fearful when he left, and grateful when he came home. This was the part that she hated. She knew that in his line of work, there might come a day when he walked out the door, and never came back.

  They stood there for the better part of two, three minutes, just holding each other.

  “You take care of you and the baby until I get back.”

  “Okay, I will. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” reluctantly, he loosened his grip and gave her a kiss.

  She returned it, and then let him go. She walked with him to his pack, and watched as he picked it up. She held his hand, and then at the front door, she grabbed him, turned him, and fiercely pulled him towards her. She gave him a passionate kiss, surprising him with the intensity.

  She pulled away, “So you don’t forget me.”

  He smiled at her, “As if.”

  He leaned in, and light as a feather’s touch, kissed her on the cheek, turned and walked out the door. She watched through the door as he went to the truck, put in his back pack, hopped into the front seat, and fired up the engine. He waved at her, pantomimed a kiss, and drove away.

  She sighed, and closed the door. She walked back to the kitchen, then noticed the dogs outside. She walked over to the door and let them back in. They were both moving slowly, but they seemed to be doing okay. Jo grabbed some bread, and opened up a bottle of pain medication that the vet had prescribed for the girls. She started wrapping bread around the pills, and dipped the bread in the grease in the skillet.

  “That should get them to eat the pills,” she thought.

  Moira was looking expectantly at her. Jo couldn’t see Fiona. She looked around. Fiona was standing at the front door. Her tail was wagging.

  “Oh, baby, daddy’s gone.”

  Jo fed them the pills, checking to make sure that they didn’t spit them back out. Then she put on coffee, cleaned the table, and put the plates into the sink. She waited until the dogs were done with their food, and she put them back into their kennel.

  It was too late for her to go back to sleep, so she grabbed some of the sausage biscuits and filled a cup with coffee. She watched the morning news while she ate. One of the dogs, probably Fiona, whimpered as she sank into sleep. The morning stock market news was on, but she wanted to listen to something light, so she turned the channel until she found some news personalities on a couch talking about the latest Hollywood gossip.

  Soon, she was done with the food and the coffee. There was still nothing interesting on TV, so she stood up, took the dishes to the sink, and put them in. The coffee cup she kept, poured some more coffee, then walked to the bedroom to get ready for the day.

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