Collide Into You: A Romantic Gender Swap Love Story (11 page)

The only thing that made this odd, in my opinion, was that it involved an Army officer and a foreign national.
 

I decide to ask Colonel Benson about it.

“Sir,” I say after the secretary lets me in his office with a stern two-minute-max warning, “are you aware of any military letter-writing programs from the 1950s that encouraged Department of Defense officers to communicate with foreigners? From what I’ve read so far, these two individuals do not seem naturally inclined to write to each other. I’ve found nothing in common between them. I’d like to think that some sort of code is involved, but I’ve yet to come across anything that raises my suspicions.”

Colonel Benson barely looks up from the e-mail on his monitor. I have no doubt that he has more important items on his plate right now.
 

“We have a U.S. pen pal program in place for deployed troops,” he says. “But I’m not aware of a foreign government version. I recommend you talk to the Pentagon Historian’s office. They would know. Sergeant Hauten can show you were they are located.” He logs off his computer and walks me out of his office. His secretary gives me an
I told you so
look
.

I hang back in the reception area after Colonel Benson departs for his fourteen hundred meeting.
 

“Mrs. Atkins, do you know the office number for the Pentagon Historian?”

The secretary, who sits behind an L-shaped desk, flips through a massive rolodex. She must have three decades’ worth of numbers stored in that thing. That’s about how long I think she’s worked at the Pentagon. She’s a fixture.

The reception area is part waiting room, part common room, and part detention center. The vibe is somewhere between
welcoming
and
forbidden
. Mrs. Atkins manages General MacWilliams’ day-to-day schedule, as well as that of all of his military assistants, the same way a MLB coach handles his players: with grit, determination, and a bit of well-placed praise. The bowl of candy on her desk probably helps, too.

Piss off the secretary and your life is hell from that point forward. She’s your entry point to the highest ranking Army General in the Department of Defense.

So when she smiles at me, I feel like I’ve won a prize. “Here you are, Sergeant Holtslander.” Her voice is filled with sugar as she hands me a small slip of white paper with the information on it. “Word to the wise, Sergeant, they are called The Historical Office of the Office of the Secretary of Defense.
Not
the Pentagon Historian.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Atkins,” I say, pocketing the paper. I leave the reception area, head to the D Ring, enter the top secret facility that the general’s secure office is located in, and return to my task at hand: reading letters, taking notes. Greta seems friendlier, though the Army major is still reserved.
 

I repeat this process Thursday and Friday. I call the historian’s office, but they can’t see me until next week.

By the end of the week, I’m ready for a break, and Tanner’s game against the Orioles tonight can’t come at a better time. I change at work and hop on the yellow line, transfer to the green line at L’Enfant Plaza, and exit at the Navy Yard.

I’m an hour and a half early, but fans of both the Nationals and the Orioles are already arriving at the stadium. The way Tanner explained it to me once, when these two particular teams face off, the stands are packed due to the fact that the Nationals and the Orioles are regionally so close to one another. Fans from both sides have relatively easy access to the stadium.

At the will-call window, I pick up my ticket and make my way to the diamond seats section. I wonder if Dillan’s seat is right next to mine. Probably. When I find my seat, only a few others are in that section, but a woman comes up to me rather suddenly.

“You must be Alec’s
new
girlfriend.” It’s a statement, not a question, and very passive aggressive. She must be referring to Alec Huffman, the Nats pitcher and reigning playboy. The woman, who looks to be in her early twenties, is brunette, tall, slim, but with ample cleavage that she amply displays. Her sleeveless arms are full of tattoos. The only thing that makes me think she isn’t just an airhead is the fact that she wears thick, purple glasses.

She reminds me of a hip librarian who could spout Shakespeare in three different languages.

However, her rudeness certainly wipes away whatever nice thoughts I might have had.

“You must be making assumptions,” I say, turning away from her to observe the field. Someone rakes the infield dirt while someone else traces the bold lines of the diamond. Typical pre-game stuff.
 

Ignoring the woman doesn’t work. She moves down two aisles and sits next to me.

“Sorry about before. It’s just that we’ve heard Alec has a new girl. I’m Zoe, Randy’s fiancé.” Randy “Big H” Hernandez is the Nationals’ catcher.

I take a calming breath before responding. “Well, when you do meet Alec’s new girlfriend, one thing is certain: your friendly welcome will knock her off her feet.”

Zoe scoffs as if she’s never been told off before. Then, after a pregnant pause, she asks, “Aren’t you going to tell me who you are?”

“Hadn’t considered it.”

Zoe,
the committee chair for the welcoming party
, stands abruptly. “What a bitch!”

I’ve been called worse. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dillan.

And right behind him, his date. I’d rather deal with them than Zoe.
That
must be why I’m somewhat pleased to see him.

Dillan

I
MAKE
THE
INTRODUCTIONS
. “S
TACEY
, this is my new roommate, Keira, my best friend’s little sister. Keira, this is my date, Stacey.”

Our two seats are right next to Keira’s, so I place Stacey next to her, and I sit on the other side of Stacey. I’m not trying to avoid Keira, but I figure it’s best for everyone if the ladies sit next to each other. That way, neither thinks I’m doing anything fishy, like having sex with both. Not that Keira doesn’t already know I’m with Stacey, but I don’t want Stacey thinking the same.

But as wishes come true, both end up ignoring me and talking to each other all night.

After the initial
hi-how-are-you-I’m-great-thanks-for-asking-how-are-you-doing
is done and out of the way, Stacey gets right down to the very thing she wants to know.

“Tanner is your brother’s boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” Keira answers proudly. I know that she loves Tanner. “They’ve officially been together for two years, but it’s been longer than that.” Keira does finger quotes around the word
officially
.
 

Wait, what?
No, she’s got it wrong. Tanner and Jon got together at the
VonSault Rock Fest
two summers ago. What else don’t I know about?

“That’s so sexy,” Stacey says. “I mean, I know Jon’s your brother, so
you
don’t think it’s sexy. But a man in love is something to behold. A man in love has his act together and he doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone around him.”

Keira has an odd look on her face, like maybe she can’t believe she’s enjoying her conversation with Stacey. Or maybe it’s Stacey’s profound view on the state of men in love.

“All I know is that Jon’s never been happier than when he’s with Tanner. It’s not lost on either that they’ll have a tough road ahead of them.”

I lean forward. “Because of their sexual orientation?”

Both women glare at me as if they suddenly realized I was a Yeti wearing a kid’s party hat.
 

“No,” Keira says. “Because Jon’s in the military and away from home a lot, and with Tanner in the majors, he’s gone half the year with training and away games.”

“I’ve seen it work,” Stacey adds. “My dad met my mom before he was drafted during the Vietnam War. He proposed, Mom said yes, and he went off to war, she enrolled in college and then a foreign exchange program. They were separated for seven years before they saw one another again. Since that date, they’ve never been apart for more than a day.”

“That’s an amazing example of devotion,” Keira says.

“Well,” Stacey says with a small chuckle, “they hate each other now. After fifty years, they pretty much can’t stand the sight of one another, but they don’t know how to operate without the other. My folks are highly co-dependent. It’s a fascinating case study. In fact, my brother went into psychology in order to study my parents and couples like them, and to learn why they usually stay together. Some of his papers for the Veterans Affairs have been published in
Psychology Now
. Perhaps you’ve heard of him; his name is Dr. Bergdorf Stacey.”

Keira shakes her head, but I already know what her next question is.

“So Stacey is your
last
name? What’s your first name?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?” Stacey says. She pulls her long blonde hair to one side and runs her fingers through the bottom half in a brushing manner. “It’s Bernadine. Berg is my twin. I think, to overcome the horrible
joint
nickname of BernaDorfy in our youth, we excelled at everything we tried. Sports, academics, public speaking, foreign languages, everything. I was a member of every club possible in high school and college. So was Berg.”

A few minutes later, the game starts.

We cheer as loud as possible when Tanner runs out of the dugout. Stacey and Keira talk throughout the game, but I only catch parts and pieces of the conversation.

For some stupid reason, I’m miffed that they haven’t talked
about
me or
to
me. Isn’t that what they are supposed to do? The rational part of my brain knows that this thought is a fallacy. I suppose I didn’t expect the two of them to hit it off so quickly. Or at all. I thought there’d be claws and terse words exchanged.
 

But neither woman was threatened by the other. I’ve never experienced this before. I’ve never experienced a situation where the one woman I
am
dating is becoming friends with the one woman who doesn’t
want
to date me. Could there be two such women on the planet as there are right now? And both within arm’s reach?

Improbable.

After a couple innings, Stacey announces she’s starving. “I could eat about five cheeseburgers.” She leaves to go to the snack bar. I look over at Keira. She’s watching the game so fiercely that she doesn’t blink. Obviously she’s trying to avoid a conversation with me.

“Enjoying the game, Keira?” I ask, leaning over Stacey’s empty seat.

“I
was
,” she says, inching further away from me. “Stacey’s very nice. I like her. I take back everything I said about her before I got to know her better.”

This isn’t going the way I pictured it. I didn’t want to talk about Stacey. I wanted to talk about
us
.

“Have you found an apartment yet?”

Her mouth sets. So that must be a
no
, then.

“I’m still looking—GREAT CATCH, TANNER!—did you see that, Dillan? Nats are up by two going into the eighth.”

I missed the play, but I catch it on the Jumbotron. The Orioles’ batter hit a straight shot right at the short stop and without blinking, Tanner caught what must have been a fast-flying, hard-as-hell ball. As the team runs off the field, Tanner takes off his glove and shakes out his hand at his hip. I knew how important the majors were to Tanner. Injuries are taken seriously. Hopefully, it isn’t bad. The last thing he’d want was to be sent back down to the minors team.

At the top of the ninth, Stacey returns. It’s a good thing neither Keira or I wanted anything from her trip because she was empty handed and late. “Can you believe that the guy behind me in line knew my brother?”

“Huh?” I ask.

“I know,” she agrees with whatever she thinks my ‘huh’ means. “What are the odds that
he
would say that
I
resembled someone he previously worked with?”

“I’d say pretty high considering that it’s a regular pick-up line for guys,” I say.

Her angrily arched eyebrows practically wrestle me to the ground. I notice Keira’s amused expression. She’s enjoying the show. So now they’re both interested in paying attention to me? Great. I can’t win.

“You don’t think I know that?” Stacey asks.

Right
, I think, coming to my senses. The blonde Amazon knows how to handle guys. She must have to beat us away with sticks.
 

“He knew Berg and everything. His papers, his current research. Oh, look.” She points. “The game’s over. Nats won. Dillan?”

“Hmm?” I rub tired eyes.

“Didn’t you say we needed to stay put after the game? Something about Tanner meeting us?”

Keira answers before I do. “We’re meeting him right outside the locker room. Then, if he feels up to it, we’ll head out for drinks.”

Then I remember what Tanner said in his e-mail.
I’d ask you to give Keira a hug for me, but I’m fairly certain she’d punch you in the face
—an accurate prediction, my friend—
so I’ll have to wait to do it myself. Don’t say anything, but I have a big surprise waiting for Keira. If it goes well, it will benefit you, too.

What could be both a surprise to Keira and a benefit to me? Maybe he plans to let her stay at his rarely used house in Maryland. Did he think I eagerly wanted her out of my apartment?

We line up with everyone else as they leave, but instead of exiting the stadium, we make our way to the locker rooms. While we wait, Stacey peppers Keira with a hundred questions about the Army. I figured Keira would be uncomfortable talking about her military career, but other than her recent deployment, she answers Stacey without hesitation. Keira probably didn’t realize I could tell she omitted talking about her time in Afghanistan.

While I’ve been in Keira’s company in the past, I have to admit that she usually comes across as reserved and somewhat ill at ease. Now, however, her demeanor is anything but. I watch Keira, waiting for her to turn and observe me observing her, but she never takes her eyes off Stacey as they talk.
 

Twenty minutes later, Tanner emerges and scoops up Keira in the biggest hug possible. His bronze skin matches hers as he twirls her around. His left hand is taped up. So the catch was hard enough that the team’s medical officer must have been worried enough to immobilize it. Not that that stopped Tanner from lifting his future sister-in-law off the ground.