Soldiers in Love

Chapter 6: December 3-1

CHAPTER 6: DECEMBER 3TWO WEEKS WENT BY AND Daniel and I hadn’t spoken to each other since that day we went to find Donovan. I missed him so much. My feelings had been hurt that day. I was proud of myself for not breaking down in front of him. But later on, in the privacy of my apartment, I cried myself to sleep. The next morning, I resolved to not make a move, to let him come to me if he wanted to. I did pretty good too until it was time to go to work. I could breathe when Tony said he wasn’t coming in because he was sick. I thought about calling him to check on him. But I didn’t want to hear him being mean.

Quanna came up beside me at the counter where I was pouring coffee beans into the machine to grind them. She watched for a moment.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I looked up. “What?”

She rolled her eyes in Quanna fashion. “I said, what’s wrong with you? You’ve seemed down the last few days. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah something is going on. You’re never this quiet.” She looked around. “And Daniel has been out for a while too. Is he okay?”

I shrugged, transferring the ground coffee into the bin. “He’s sick. Flu or something,” I said, hoping my lie sounded believable.

But Quanna had always been good at reading between the lines. “Y’all fighting?”

“No. I guess. I don’t know.”

She patted my shoulder. “I’m sorry, boo,” she said, sympathetically. “It happens from time to time. Give it time. It’ll blow over soon and y’all will be back all over each other.”

Dear, dear naive Quanna. It won’t blow over and we won’t be okay. “Yeah maybe.”

When I was finally able to go home, I curled up on the couch with my blanket and ice cream. I missed Daniel so much. I wanted to call him but I didn’t give in to the urge. What would I say to him?

I glanced at the medium sized envelope that I’d pulled from the mailbox with my mail. It was thicker than a normal envelope. Suddenly, I remembered sending off for the pictures I’d taken of Daniel and Donovan at the park. They’d finally come in.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the photos. Oh man, they came out great! I studied each picture, remembering what had been happening when I’d taken the shot. The one of Daniel and Donovan looking at each other was my favorite. I’d had two copies made of that one. I decided that this one and the pic of Daniel in his dress blues were going to be my final project. I tucked the pictures back into the envelope. I’d give them to Daniel when he came to work.

When I got to the shop the next day, Quanna greeted me with a grin. “Your boyfriend’s back,” she said.

Daniel? God knows I longed to run back into the kitchen and throw my arms around him. But I didn’t know how he’d react and I wasn’t interested in being rejected in front of everyone.

“Aren’t you going to go back there and say hi?”

I shrugged. “I’ll go in a bit. He’s probably busy.”

She whistled softly. “Dang. This must be serious. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of it. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I guess my feelings are still kind of raw. Thanks for the jokes. I need a laugh.”

Business started to pick up and I was able to think about something other than my wounded pride and Daniel. The gray bin was full again and Flo and Quanna were out on the floor. With a sigh, I picked it up and headed to the kitchen. I was a big girl after all. I can take a bucket of dirty coffee cups into the kitchen where my boyfriend (or ex in this case) was working and not react at all.

That’s what I told myself until I walked into the kitchen.

Daniel turned around as I came in with the bin. He didn’t speak and neither did I as I went over to the counter and set the bin on it. I grabbed the empty one and turned to leave. Good girl, Regan, I thought to myself. Way to not show him that you’re still hurting. But damn he looks good. Why does he have to look so good? Why can’t he look like a frog or something? Then I could walk into this kitchen, drop off my bin, take another one, and leave. All without feeling a thing.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

I tried to put on a nonchalant facade. “Oh. Hey. What’s up?”

Daniel leaned back against the sink. “Nothing much. How are you?”

How the hell do you think I am? You yelled at me, kicked me out of your house. You told me you didn’t need me. You told me to go away. How do you think I feel, man? “I’m good. Working. Trying to finish my project for class. What about you?”

He didn’t even try to hide the pain in his eyes. “I’m just barely hanging on,” he admitted in a whisper. “I- I miss you.”

“Yeah.”

He frowned. “I’ve wanted to call you but-”

“I know, you’ve been super busy.”

Daniel bit his lip. Did you think it would be easy?

I turned to head back out front. I was slowly losing my bravado. And I couldn’t lose the last of my pride by running into his arms like a lovesick schoolgirl.

“Can we talk somewhere later?” he asked.

I started to say no, but stopped myself. I wanted to see him too. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to hear what he had to say. I needed to know if there was still something between us or were we over.

“Yeah, sure. Where?”

Daniel actually looked relieved that I hadn’t shot him down. I admit I thought about it. “I’ll come back for you when your shift is over.”

“Fine,” I answered. “I gotta get back.” And because I wanted to throw myself into his arms, I turned away with the bin in my hand.

“Regan?”

I stopped, looking over my shoulder.

“You look great.”

What could I say? I didn’t feel great. And I couldn’t say that he looked great because he looked tired, worn out even. So I said nothing and walked back out onto the floor.

When my shift was over, I waited around for him. But he never showed. That made me mad. He’d asked to talk and then he didn’t show up? Heck no. I jumped into my car and drove over to his place.

I knocked on his door. I could hear shuffling from inside and he opened the door. “Regan,” he said slowly. “What are you doing here?”

Incredulous, I stared at him. “Are you kidding me? You told me that you wanted to talk and that we’d meet up after my shift was over. I waited for you and you never showed up. What gives?”

He frowned and scratched at his head. “I said that?”

I nodded. “Yeah you did.” I took a good look at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and his hair rumpled. He looked as if he’d been asleep and was awakened suddenly. “Did you take your pills?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Yes.”

“So you wanted to talk. I wait for you and you’re off drinking and getting smashed?” When he just stared at me blankly, I got mad. “Thanks a lot for playing with my feelings Daniel. I should have known better than to think that you’d really want to talk. I have to go.”

“Wait,” he said, grabbing my hand. “We can talk. I do want to talk. Don’t go.”

“Why should I stay? What could I possibly talk about with you in this state?”

“I gotta tell you something,” he said. “I gotta tell you something important.”

I shook my head. “We can talk when you’re sober. I’ve got to go.” I turned to leave and then stopped. “Oh I almost forgot.” I withdrew the envelope with the pictures in them and held them out to him.

“What is this?”

“It’s a tiny example of my love for you.” I thrust the envelope at him. “Keep it or throw it away. I don’t care. Call me when you’re sober.”

And I walked away before I did something I might regret. I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to hug him or choke him.

What I did know was that I loved him and that we needed to work this thing out.

______

Daniel and I didn’t see each other for almost a month. He quit working at the coffee shop. Part of me was sad that we no longer worked together but also relieved. With things the way they were between us, I was sort of glad that we didn’t have to see each other every day. And then I missed him.

It was the beginning of December. I was beginning to get stressed out over my final project. I was trying hard to finish it, but now my heart wasn’t really in it. It’s kind of hard to draw and paint a portrait of the man you love when you’re mad at him.

Blowing out a breath, I decided that I needed a break. Maybe a brief change of scenery would bring back my creative mojo. I grabbed my jacket and headed out to the art store down the street from my apartment.

The air was crisp and a cold breeze blew the last of the dry leaves and trash along the sidewalk. I drew a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs, cleaning out the stress and replacing it with calmness. This was a good idea. I was feeling better already.

I was browsing through the paints, trying to match the blue in his uniform. I wanted this picture to look so real that it would seem to jump off the canvas. I finally found the colors that I wanted and went to the counter to pay for the paints, drawing pencils and brushes. While I waited for the girl to get my change, I looked out of the window. A flash of Army green caught my eye. Instinctively, I knew it was Daniel. The cashier finally finished counting my change and thanking her, I dropped it into my pocket and hurried out of the door.

I paused in the middle of the sidewalk, looking up and down, trying to find that flash of green. Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of it about a half a block ahead of me. I began walking quickly in the direction it had gone. The person weaved in and out of the crowd and I hurried along trying to catch up behind them. I finally caught up to the person in the green army jacket about two blocks later. As I got closer, I realized that it was indeed Daniel. He stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change. I hung back, melting into the group of people standing at the bus stop so he wouldn’t see me following him.

The light changed and he went on across the street. I followed him all the way to the big Baptist church on the corner of Belmont and River Rd. He walked towards the church only to go through the entrance of the garden and cemetery. I frowned. What was he doing in the cemetery? Though I was a bit skeeved, I followed him in, careful not to let him see me.

He continued along the path towards the middle of the cemetery. Finally, he stopped at a large headstone. From this distance, I couldn’t see the name on the stone. There was a picture on it as well but again, I was too far away to make it out. As I watched, he stood in front of the plot, looking at the stone. After a moment, he knelt in front of it and put a hand on it. I crept closer, knowing it was wrong of me to eavesdrop but needing to hear what he was saying.

“Hey Dab,” he said out loud. “It’s Daniel. We’ve been meeting here every year at this time. Yep. It’s December 3. I can’t believe it’s been four years since you died. I miss you, man. They tell me at the VA when I go to group that it gets easier. They lied. It doesn’t get easier.” He blew out a breath and sat down, cross-legged in front of the stone.

“I saw your mom a couple of weeks ago. She’s still mad at me. At least she’s not cursing at me these days. She still blames me for you dying.” Daniel rubbed at his hair. He’d let it grow along with the stubble on his cheeks. “I still blame myself for it, man. I should have gotten you and Sal out too. I’m sorry. So very sorry. If I could do it over again, we’d all be here.”

He sat there for a while, looking at the headstone without speaking. Then he said, “Debbie did me a good one. She got a restraining order against me man. I haven’t seen Donovan in over two years. He’s big now, Dab. Beautiful. He got her hair and my eyes. But she won’t let me see him. She even took my name off the birth certificate. You believe that?” He paused as if he really expected the dead man to respond.