Duty(22)

“Thanks,” I gasp, wiping my face with the wet towel and enjoying the coolness. “The focus paid off.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Hayley says before leaving to help one of our plebes who tried to push through today but dropped out at some point. He's done well on the shorter stuff this year, but he's not ready for this distance. Still, he gave it a good effort before falling apart on the run.

I lie down, looking around to see if Lindsey approaches the group, but she doesn't come any closer, staying just a face in the crowd across the rest area. I give her a smile when she waves a little, anonymous enough that nobody notices.

Since learning that she's an enlisted, our ranks have been the only clouds that have hung between us.

Still, it'd be nice to be able to not worry if someone sees us. That's why I'm looking forward to next month. After the firsties graduate and the Corps goes on summer break, I've got a week off before I start my summer training. Lindsey and I have already agreed to go to NYC together again. We're going to celebrate her promotion. She's getting bumped up to Specialist in June, and more importantly, I'm going to enjoy the fact that we can be ourselves.

I lean back and let my mind drift to the wonderful fantasy that is next month's trip to New York. I can stop being Cadet Aaron Simpson, but just Aaron, and I'll have Lindsey with me.



“So you got the summer assignments you wanted?” Lindsey asks as we roll down the Palisades Parkway. “Sure you're not going to miss the bike?”

“Yeah, that's going to suck. My tailbone's just begging to get pounded into submission some more,” I say with a laugh, sighing happily as I sink into the seat of her old Honda. Since the triathlon, I've enjoyed the luxury of being half lazy. I haven't set foot in a pool or run a single mile since then, only biking with Lindsey on casual, relaxed rides. We've slept together twice during those rides, always on a Saturday or Sunday ride when we can take hours, going five or six miles off post to a private spot in the woods and enjoying taking our time. “But Airborne School looks good. The wings are a nice little perk to have. And I'll get to do Beast Two, which puts me in line for a good position next year.”

“So you're really committed?” Lindsey asks, and I hear a bit of sadness in her voice. I wonder why, but then she smiles. “It's going to be lonely without you.”

I smile and reach over, putting my hand on her leg. “It's going to suck not having you around. I know it cost me a few tests, but I still pulled a solid B this semester. Not quite Dean's List, but close enough that I'm not worried. Besides, you give me something more important than some Honor Roll gold wreath on my class shirt. You give me purpose.”

Lindsey blinks, and I see a shine in her eyes before she turns her head back toward the road. I yawn. I was up late last night helping some of the graduating firsties clean out their stuff and make sure they were ready for graduation today, and I'm tired. “It's okay, close your eyes,” Lindsey says with a little chuckle. “I understand. Grab some rack, and I'll wake you up when we get to the city.”

I nod and close my eyes, letting Lindsey choose the music as we drive down. I know I doze off some, but I'm awake again when she turns off Hot 97 and touches my knee. “We're here.”

The hotel is close to Central Park, and both of us agreed to splurge on it, splitting the tab between us. Thankfully, I've been tight fisted since our last trip, and I've got some money. Lindsey's told me that I don't need to pay for anything, but still, the only big purchase I've made in the past few months is in my duffel bag that has all my uniforms for Airborne School. After this weekend, I'm going to fly back home to Michigan for a few days to see my parents before the Army pays for my trip down to Georgia. When I get back to West Point, I’ll be a squad leader, and I’ll have two months of pay sitting around with nothing to spend it on except Lindsey.

Lindsey and I check in, and our room is up on the third floor, just high enough that I can see the hints of some of the stuff in the distance. “So what would you like to do?” I ask, setting my bag down. “It's a bit early for dinner.”

“How about Central Park?” Lindsey asks. “It's only a half-mile away, not that bad of a walk. I've never been to the Met. You up for some art?”

We head out, getting to the museum just as a big clock nearby rings out five o'clock. “Glad we came on a Saturday then,” Lindsey remarks as we look at the hours of operation. “We've still got hours to enjoy it.”

As we wind our way through the collections, I'm caught breathless time and time again as we encounter works of artwork that stun us both, leaving us amazed. “I've never seen anything so beautiful,” Lindsey whispers as we look at an authentic Ming vase from China. “Have you?”

“I've seen something nearly every day for the past few months that beats it,” I tell her, reaching up and stroking her hair. Lindsey blushes and blinks before taking a deep breath, looking at me.

“Aaron,” she whispers, touching my cheek. There's pain and something else in her eyes, and I’m confused. “Aaron . . . I'm so sorry.”

“Why?” I ask, confused. “I know this isn't the ideal time, but what’s the problem? Aren’t we in lo—”

“No,” Lindsey half-strangles, putting her fingers on my lips. “No, don't say it. This is hard enough as it is.”