Waiting for Her Soldier (12 page)

The next few weeks with Darren went amazingly well. We settled into our new life together, a relationship we’d never explicitly acknowledged, but fulfilling nonetheless. The routine was comfortable, and the best part was that even the monotonous tasks of daily life had this new, vital light shed on them. Everything seemed more colorful and brighter than before, as if it were in bloom. It felt like springtime even though it was mid January.

Everyday we woke up and made love. We ate together, Darren would sit in the shop while I worked, looking for jobs he was interested in on his laptop. Sometimes at lunch we’d sneak home for a quickie. Later at night we’d go home and I’d cook him dinner. Now that I was cooking for two it gave me a chance to make a number of new recipes I’d been dying to try.

Once a week I took him to physical therapy, where undeniably he was making progress. And a few weeks after he’d first arrived home, we embarked on the three hour drive up to the military hospital to see Dr. Williams, who told him that his rehabilitation appeared to be ahead of schedule. He pulled me aside outside the room in which he was examining Darren and thanked me.

“There’s no question you’re had a huge part in his recovery. He’s lucky to have someone like you looking out for him. Not every soldier has that. A lot of them come home to no family or girlfriend at all. If they’re wounded it makes recovery all the more difficult. The psychological aspect really takes a toll, and it can even impede physical recovery,” said Dr. Williams, idly making a few notes on the form attached to his clipboard.

He went in to see Darren and told him that given his current progress, there was no need to make another trip back to the military hospital; he would refer us to a doctor in our area who would see Darren through the rest of his rehabilitation, which at the current rate wouldn’t be much more than a month.

“So you’re telling me that a month from now, I’m gonna have full use of my arm?” asked Darren excitedly.

“That’s correct. Now, since it hasn’t gotten much exercise, you’ll probably feel a bit weaker than you’re used to. It won’t be noticeable in normal, day-to-day activities, but if you go to the gym and workout, per se, or go toss a football around, you’ll maybe find you can’t lift as much as you used to, or throw a pass as far as you could before. But all that’s temporary, if you keep working at it you can build back to your previous levels.”

I could see Darren’s eyes light up. I knew how bored he’d been while he was cooped up in the apartment all the time and that he needed an outlet for physical activity. Now that he had the go ahead from the doctor I knew he’d really be psyched to get back into action.

Driving back in the car that afternoon I think both of us felt completely at peace. We already knew Darren was getting along just fine, but hearing it from Dr. Williams really brought us an extra sense of comfort.

A few days later over dinner, Darren mentioned an interesting opportunity to me. His former football coach, Eric Peterson, had reached out to him about taking a position coaching the varsity team at Harrisonburg High School, the high school Darren and I had both graduated from. Coach Peterson had been promoted to athletic director, and having heard Darren was back in town wanted to know if he might be interested in coaching.

“Now, of course, this isn’t a permanent sort of thing,” said Darren. “The pay isn’t all that much, and long-term I’d like to end up back in intelligence. But for the time being, I figure why not? It’d give me a chance to get back out on the field. And it won’t be too much of a time commitment, so I can start prepping for the FBI interview process, and maybe even take a class or two since I’ll have free time during the day.”

“I think that makes sense. I think you’ll really like it and it will give you a chance to catch your breath before you jump back into another high-intensity job.”

“Exactly,” said Darren, swirling a forkful of fettuccini alfredo. “And you know what the best part is?”

“No, what?”

“Once Christmas break is over we’re going to head back into the gym to do some conditioning for spring training. And at that point I’ll only have a few weeks left of PT, so I’m gonna get to join the boys for their workouts. I’ll be back in prime shape in no time.”

I smiled at him. He was so cute when he got excited like this. Football was one of his passions and I knew he’d make an excellent coach and a good role model for the boys on his team. I was also happy because I didn’t know what would happen if Darren ended up getting an analyst job with the FBI. We lived in a small town, and there was no crime here that the laid-back local police couldn’t handle. I knew that any position with the FBI or any other agency like it would probably take Darren away from me. That was something I didn’t even want to think about, and as long as he was happy here, it wouldn’t become an issue. So I did everything I could to encourage Darren in his coaching position.

In the end, everything was going really well. Christmas has come and gone in a flash. Angie had stopped by to celebrate with us. After she dumped Donnie, Angie and Darren had finally made up. I could see the joy in both their eyes every time they saw each other. The bond they shared, brother and sister, was something I couldn’t help but smile at. Growing up with Angie, protecting her and guiding her, had really taught Darren how to treat a woman.

I really liked Angie, too. Truth be told, I could see her as one of my bridesmaids. I caught myself at that thought—I was getting way, way ahead of myself. Darren and I had never talked about anything like that. Even though I felt strongly and I knew that Darren felt strongly too, I had no reason to assume he had any intention of marrying me, certainly not anytime in the near future.

Hopefully, in the short time I had with Darren, I could show him I was serious about a future together. I could only pray that he felt the same. I’d become so dependent on his presence at this point that I could feel myself becoming attached to the idea of a future with him. If that future didn’t materialize, I didn’t know what I would do.

As it so often happens, life in the next few weeks didn’t go as perfectly as planned. At first, things went well enough. Darren had finished PT and started working out with the high school football team. On my end, business was going well at the shop; we were so busy we’d even had to hire another girl to start working the counter during the weekends. Things were going well enough that I started thinking about a real future between myself and Darren. Marriage, honeymoon, kids, house with the white picket fence… in short, everything. That’s when trouble hit.

It started one night when I came home late from work. It was late January and Darren was at the high school, guiding his athletes through their off-season training regimen. It had been an exhausting day at work. In truth, all I wanted was to come home and fall into bed, with Darren there to cradle me in his arms.

I walked into the kitchen and immediately popped open a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Pouring myself a glass, I dropped down on the couch and turned on the television, almost ready to fall asleep right then and there. Then thought dawned on me that I’d need to cook dinner for Darren and myself, but I was so exhausted. Maybe ordering in was the best thing to do tonight.

I walked back into the kitchen to shuffle through the drawer where I kept all the take-out menus. What did I want tonight? Pizza, Chinese, what else was there? A red blinking light caught my eye. Messages on my answering machine. I rarely thought to check it because most people knew that to reach me they would have a better chance calling my cell or the sandwich shop. Probably just a telemarketer I thought, but I was bored and decided to give the message a listen.