Duty(39)

I can tell that he wants this, and I want to say yes, but I don't know. Just being here feels risky to me, and seeing him again . . . it's so dangerous. Still, I go over and take his hand again, giving him a kiss on the knuckle for some crazy reason. “I don't know, Aaron. Let me think about it?”

“Deal,” Aaron says, giving me one of his quirky, pulse racing smiles. He knows that I want to say yes, but he's giving me enough time and space to come to my own conclusions and to be comfortable with it. “I can live with that.”

Lance groans on the couch, and I look over, letting go of Aaron's hand. “That's his signal that he needs to go pee,” I tell him, getting up. “I'll take care of it.”

“And us?”

I’m careful with my words, knowing what the repercussions could be. “We have to be careful, Aaron.”



Driving back to our quarters, Lance is giddy in the back seat. “He let me use a knife!”

“Yes, I saw, honey,” I respond, smiling at the memory. Lance and Aaron were in total connection, cutting up the cake that Aaron surprised us with. It wasn't some butter knife either. It was a real kitchen knife, which worried me until I saw how careful Lance and Aaron were being together. Lance understood the importance of using a big boy’s knife. “You did great, too.”

With all the excitement, Lance goes down early even with the sugar from the cake running through him, and as I kiss his forehead after tucking him in, I watch him sleeping softly, reminiscing. I could tell in his answer, Aaron's been lonely. I could see it in his decorations, in the fact that he has only a basic four plate set, four knives, four spoons, things like that. They sell a set just like what he has at the PX. I was tempted to get one myself when I was moving into enlisted housing. I ended up inheriting a set from one of the other enlisted at Lewis, who gave me their old stuff as a housewarming gift. Aaron didn't get any housewarming gifts, it looks like.

I could see it in his bedroom, which I saw through the door when I took Lance to the toilet. A full-sized bed is nowhere near big enough for a man Aaron's size with any sort of active sex life. You can't even fit two people in it comfortably. The sheets looked crisp but also mostly unused, unlike the comforter Lance slept on, and the couch already looks well broken in. He probably sleeps there more than in his bed.

I've been lonely too, though. I love Lance, but the chance today to talk with Aaron, even the painful parts, I felt a part of me awaken. It was the adult, non-military side. Other than talking with Petie, nobody really ever talks with me that way. Even other soldiers, off duty, still have that Army-ness about them. The topics of conversation always drift to Army things, there's too much talk filled with foul language and Army speak. With Aaron, the only things that said Army were the diploma on his wall and the haircut.

There's a bit of regret that I didn't tell him about the nights waking up, wishing I had arms to hold onto. I didn't tell him about the afternoons where I cry in exhaustion and shame at how little time I spend with my son. I didn't tell him about the two months at Lewis, right after Lance started talking, where he called the senior daycare worker at the center Mommy instead of me, or the times he wasn't sure about hugging me because I felt like a stranger to him. Talk about making you feel like the world's shittiest mother.

And I won't let Lance be hurt again, and that includes not getting a chance to know his father, even if he doesn't know that's who Aaron is for now. I bend over and give Lance a kiss on the forehead, wishing him sweet dreams and go out to my living room, where I grab my phone and send Aaron a text.

You can be Lance's Big Brother. When can you make the arrangements?

Aaron responds within minutes. I'll need to do it after the field exercises. But then we can do a first get-together on the weekend. Maybe next Saturday or Sunday?

I tap my lip, thinking quickly, then reply. I don't want him to feel like I'm being too eager. I want Aaron to understand that this is focused on Lance, not us. No good. Plans. But . . . I've got weekend duty the next Saturday. Think you'd be willing to watch Lance for a long stretch then?

Totally. I'll call you when it's set up. Thank you, Lindsey.

Remember, you're his Big Brother. Let’s start there, okay?





Chapter 13





Aaron





“Hey, Sergeant Pillman?”

We're covered in dust. They don't exactly clean the forests out here. After four days in the woods, all of Delta Company looks like we've been lightly floured, except for the darker lines around the collars of our tops where we scrubbed our faces quickly with some splashed water from our canteens and created major rings where the water dried.

“What's up sir?” Pillman asks, tired but happy. It's his last FTX with the platoon. He's rotating out to join another battalion soon, and come my next exercise, the Regulators are going to have a new platoon sergeant. I should have just enough time to get him broken in and the platoon adjusted to him before it's my turn to roll out. It's the way the Army works.

“You've got two kids, right?” I ask, and Pillman raises an eyebrow. We're on a little bit of a break for the moment. The platoon perimeter is set up for the night, and most of the troops are digging their positions right now. The goal of the FTX is to get everyone a little bit of throwback training, back to light infantry work instead of rolling around in vehicles. Other than the supply truck, we haven't seen a 'friendly' vehicle since jumping off our trucks and humping our gear five miles into the woods on Monday afternoon. “If you don't mind.”