Come and Talk to Me (12 page)

“Sure. I can be the Wicked Witch of the Midwest. See how that goes for a while.”

He laughed and held her tight. “You were freezing in the winter here when it dropped to forty.”

“So?”

“Put a negative sign in front of that. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I think you can come up with a way to keep me warm.” She kissed his chest again. “Really. I think I can take it. I’d rather add a jacket than be hot all the time. These muggy summers here are running me down. Maui was never this humid.”

“You want one extreme to the other?”

“I’d be happy anywhere with you. I told you that.”

“You don’t even get along with my sisters. Why would you want to live near them?”

“That’s only because we haven’t had the chance to know each other.” She leaned up and propped herself on her arm. “Maybe if we spent more time together, they’d get past thinking I’m pure evil just because I don’t go to the same kind of church they do.”

“That’s right. They’ll see you are evil in so many other ways.”

“They need to loosen up.” She cuddled up to him again. “They’ll have to love me once they get to know me better. Who could be better for you than me? Don’t answer that,” she said, playfully smacking his chest.

“You’re sure about this? I wouldn’t ask you to go there, baby.”

“I want to. Really. As long as that’s what you want.”

“I was a park ranger in for a bit around Bemidji when I was in college. It’s a pretty area. I wouldn’t mind living there. There’s a ton of lakes so you’ll still be surrounded with water.”

His tone was almost back to normal. She thought he might be okay. Soon they could put the military life behind them and live like normal people. Maybe he could find a job he liked that wouldn’t be so taxing on his back and if he had a boss that was a jerk, he could quit and find something else without being forced to take the abuse. She didn’t care what she did next. She was excited to look for something new. Right now, however, she was excited in another way. “My love?”

“Yes?”

“You want a cookie?”

“Oh, I want a cookie.”

~*~

One night after dinner a few weeks earlier, Reggie was getting ready for a shower. “Leave the dishes, I’ll get them when I get out.”

Wanting to help, he had started to do them anyway and dropped a glass in the sink. “Dammit!”

She came running into the kitchen in a towel. “What happened?”

“Don’t come any closer!”

Her eyes became wide when she saw the paper towel on his hand. “You’re bleeding.”

“It ain’t bad. I’ll take care of it. I don’t want you seeing it and getting sick.”

“I want to help you.”

He snapped at her. “I got it! You won’t help me by passing out. Your ‘limp dick’ husband can’t pick you up like he used to, you know!”

She stomped off toward the bedroom and slammed the door. After a few minutes, he came in the room and sat on the bed next to her. He had his finger wrapped with duct tape. She picked it up and gave it a kiss. “Nice bandage.”

“We were all out of Bob the Builder.”

She laughed then looked up at him with serious eyes. “I wish you’d let me do the dishes. You know you get frustrated about your hand every time.”

As much as Van tried to deny when he was experiencing stronger bursts of pain, Reggie always knew when his back was bothering him. She always knew when he had to pop an extra pill. He was also having issues with the feeling in three fingers in his right hand. A nerve was pinching him, worse on some days than others, and he had problems with his grip. She learned not to baby him since he was sensitive about it, but she tried to do things like the dishes so he wouldn’t have to mess with them.

“I hate feeling useless. I should be able to help you around here.”

“You’re not useless, dammit. If I really needed help, I’d ask. And if I ever hear you use the phrase ‘limp dick’ again, I’ll beat you senseless. You hear me?”

“Promise to spank me instead?”

“I mean it Donovan William.” She backed away from his kiss.

“Oh, the middle name. I am in trouble.” Nothing snapped him out of a bad mood faster than trying to get her out of one that was on a rebound from his.

“Damn straight. Nobody puts my husband down. Especially you.”

“All right,” he answered like a scolded child. “I can haz cookie now?” he asked as he laid her backward on the bed.

Reggie’s newest hobby had become printing cute pictures off internet sites like LOLCats and Icanhazcheeseburger. Each one sported a funny cat photo and captions with goofy spellings of words. Since they couldn’t get a cat, Van tolerated the pictures plastered on the refrigerator and had started referring to wanting her as ‘having his cookie.’

“You can haz cookie now,” she said with a kiss, quoting one of her favorites.

W
ITHIN
T
WO
W
EEKS
of the punching incident, the movers had packed up their house and their things were on the way to storage in Big Lake, Minnesota. When you left the service, they were responsible for sending you back to where you originated. That would get their things close enough until they made up their minds as to exactly where they wanted to settle. They waved goodbye to the movers and climbed in their truck. Van and Reggie were going to take their time driving up. They wanted to stop at Disneyworld as well as visit Reggie’s parents and brother. They were making it a second honeymoon.

Van put his hand on Reggie’s leg. “I just have one thing I need to do before we go, baby.”

She smiled. “Of course.” He drove a couple miles, stopped at a row of townhouses and parked across the street on the Gulf side. “Who lives here?”

“Just one of the guys. He borrowed my Gerber tool my last shift and I never got it back. Wait here. I’ll only be a second.”

“Okay, my love.” Reggie stood by the water while she waited. In all the time they spent there, she was still always amazed that the water came right up to the roads. She was used to waves and currents from Hawaii and always thought it strange that there was no tide to speak of. She closed her eyes and took in one last deep breath. “Goodbye, Florida.” She looked back across the road looking for Van. She didn’t see him, but the name on the mailbox almost jumped off and bit her like a snake.
Garner.

“No!” she cried and ran across the street.

By the clanking going on, she could tell things were being knocked over in the carport. She ran under the stilted town home, finding them in a utility room. Metal racks were knocked over and Van held his former CO by his neck, a good foot off the floor.

“Van, no!” she screamed as she held one of her husband’s arms with both of hers.

“This bastard isn’t getting off Scott-free, baby.”

“Yes, he is! You’re out of the military, but you’ll still go to jail! Stop it!”

He only pressed Garner further into the wall. Garner’s hands held onto Van’s as he hung there, flailing.

“Stop it, Van, please! For me!”

His features finally softened and he lowered Garner to the ground. Van raised his finger to say something to him, but he had no words. He turned and began to walk out of the room. Reggie followed.

Garner straightened his shirt. “I knew you liked it,” he said at Reggie’s back.

Van spun around but Reggie was closer. She brought her leg up hard and fast. The fluidness and grace of the move would have made her ballet instructor proud. She made contact. Garner hit the ground.

Van looked at her and smiled.

“Say I look cute when I’m pissed and you’ll get one, too, Kimball.” She stormed past him and out the door.

They turned onto US1 and rode in silence for a long time. Reggie had been angry enough that she shook for a while, but refused to let herself get lightheaded. She hated how she reacted to stress and cursed under her breath for miles. After steaming all the way to Key Largo, she finally blew. She leaned over and punched Van in the arm. Of course, it did nothing to him. He laughed at her efforts. That made her even angrier. He pulled the vehicle off the road at a small unofficial rest area.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to let that asshole get away with no ramifications for what he did to you.”

“So, you’ll what? Kill him yourself and let me spend the next twenty years alone while you rot in jail?”

“I wouldn’t have killed him, killed him, baby.”

That was another running joke between them. They had watched a comedian in Key West who did a whole skit on how saying the same word twice changes its meaning.

“Not funny, Van!”

A fisherman pulled up and honked that he wanted to get down a path Van was blocking. Van drove down the road a little way and parked low on a hill against the bridge. He killed the engine, unbuckled his seat belt and slid closer to her. “Nice shot, Bravo Tango Whiskey.” He kissed her neck.

“I’m happy to put the military behind us, Van. A simple BTW or just friggin’ say ‘by the way’ from now on, dammit.”

“Five by five, baby.”

“Stop it!” She laughed. She didn’t want to, but she did. “Fine, you heard me loud and clear but now stop it. Please. I really want all of this behind us…everything.”

“Okay.” He continued kissing her neck. “Hey, we haven’t done it in Key Largo, have we?”

She pretended to go through a mental checklist, counting off on her fingers, naming the different keys. “Nope.”

“Ya wanna?”

~*~

The drive to Minnesota took them a total of nine days to do. They took two days for themselves at Disneyworld and two days with her parents, which was two days too many. Thankfully her brother and his wife and kids were there for one of the days. Reggie enjoyed her aunt time. It was a good reminder for her of how much work kids were, but she also knew she still wanted them very much.

They took their time driving and stayed at hotels so they weren’t completely worn out each night. When they hit Minnesota, they visited the Mall of America where they played like kids at the theme park. They stayed across the street at a water park where they swam until it closed. They drove into Bemidji the following day and spent time investigating the town. Van suggested they spend a few days driving around before they committed to buying a house.

Reggie instantly loved the town. There was a small mall with a JCPenney and Kmart, but also a downtown that was still very active. There was a huge lake right off the main road and two others that were even more stunning fifteen minutes in each direction.

They found an eager real estate agent that had a list of properties to show them, but Reggie fell in love at the third showing. Unlike many of the other lots where the neighbor’s houses almost touched, this one had a double-wide lot. The house was in desperate need of some fixing so the price was perfect. They signed the purchase agreement and ‘christened’ the house when the realtor left.

They drove to Big Lake that night to tell his family the great news. His mother planned a welcome home dinner and had his sisters over. Reggie hoped it would go over better than their last visit.

A year ago they had driven up to Big Lake to visit for his father’s birthday party. “You two don’t go to church?” His younger sister said. You would have thought she had been shot by the way she reacted.

“Not currently, no.” Reggie answered. “Van’s schedule has always been so crazy, we never got into the routine of it.”

“Well, you’ll find something,” she said with a pat to her leg.

“I suppose we will.” Reggie struggled to put on a smile. She knew Van had attended church regularly as a Lutheran growing up. They had never discussed going after they were married. She went to Catholic school, but when she graduated and her parents left, she rarely attended a service again on her own.

She sat, silent, while the family carried on about playing in church, singing in church, helping with Sunday school…It was a large part of their lives and she respected it. She just hoped it wouldn’t be something that would form a constant wedge between them. Reggie considered herself a believer in God; she didn’t feel like she had to sit in a church on Sunday and prove it to anyone else. She had attended a church a few times on Oahu with a ‘significant other’ and didn’t particularly care for the style. She liked to go for an uplifting sermon or some ‘make you feel good’ music. She didn’t care for the ‘you are not welcome to receive communion if you don’t belong to this church’ attitude.
Uh huh. There’s a nice welcome. Oh wait, you did say ‘welcome, sinner’ when I showed up. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside now. Thanks.

The man she attended with was colorful, to say the least. How could he do what he did, yet sit there for an hour on Sunday to show everyone how ‘good’ he was? It was a two-faced act that Reggie always carried in her memory. She began to see things for what they were. Whether or not someone went to church, and to which one, wasn’t a concern to her. She had always prided herself on being a bitch, but never a judgmental bitch. Someone’s religion or the color of their skin was never an issue for her.

Her friends ranged from every nationality on the planet. Hawaii was diverse if nothing else. The islands consisted mostly of Japanese and Filipino, but she also had classmates from Fiji, Tonga, China and Korea. She never put a label to color and only asked for that in return. Being white, she was the minority. She never wanted to treat someone as she had, on rare occasion, been treated when mistaken for a tourist in a shadier area of Oahu.

Although mixed marriages were commonplace and the island was streaming with gorgeous babies they referred to as ‘hapa’ from the combination of their parents nationalities, for some reason there was still indifference to the fact that Sabrina was black and Troy was Caucasian. It was one point that especially held them dear to her. Love had no boundaries for them. She wished more people were that way.

“So, did you look into churches near your new house?” Van’s sister asked immediately after they said they had put money down on a quaint two bedroom with a nice yard. She had hoped after their last fight, the subject wouldn’t be brought up again.

“The realtor told us about a great non-denominational Christian church out of town. We thought about going to check it out once we’re settled.”

“Why would you do that? You’re going to go to a Lutheran church, aren’t you? You’ll only have to take classes for about a year so you can become a member.”

Reggie sighed. “I wasn’t that keen on the last Lutheran church I went to. I guess we’ll have to see. I really don’t get the whole class and the member thing anyway. Why can’t someone just go there and everyone be okay with that?”

“It’s the way it is. Van’s Lutheran; you should go to a Lutheran church.”

“Do we have to do this again, Kristi? Really?” Reggie had two glasses of wine and was tired from the drive. She was in no mood to have the church fight again.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Kristi continued.

“Right thing for who? You don’t know me or even like me. How can you presume to know what’s best for me?”

“Van went before he met you.”

Reggie stood up and walked out of the house. Van followed her. She stood by the car with her arms crossed. “You never stick up for me! You just sit there and let them run me up and down every damn time!”

“I don’t let it get to me. We don’t usually talk about things like you do. Someone pisses someone off and we don’t talk for a couple days, then we act like it never happened.”

“Dysfunction at its finest,” she said, turning away.

“You know how I feel about it, Reggie. We’ll go if you want to go.”

“But what about you?”

“I’m fine. There’s other ways we can get involved in the community if you rather not do the hellfire and brimstone routine. We can do volunteer stuff for veterans, the food shelf…you can volunteer at the animal shelter and get all the cat loving you can handle.” She lit up when he said that.

“I think I’m going to like it here, Van,” she finally said.

“Because we’re still three hours away from my family?”

“Yup.”

~*~

Despite wanting a change in career, Reggie again found employment with a local lumberyard. It was what she knew and she did it well. She was already calculating their home improvement savings in employee discounts.

Van received a monthly allotment for his injuries and they were still able to keep their military benefits such as their IDs to be able to shop at a commissary, which Reggie wanted nothing to do with. Van still had periodic doctor appointment for follow-ups. Reggie was sure they were a waste of time since they never revealed anything and just offered him more pills. He, of course, had to go where they sent him, never to anyone local. It was usually to a doctor four hours away to the cities; sometimes it was only the three to Fargo. At least he was reimbursed for gas.

Since Van was honorably discharged and couldn’t find work in the same kind of field because of his job-related back injury, the service had to offer him training in a new field. Reggie had recently purchased them both laptops with a tax return and he had really taken to trying to learn their ins and outs. The opportunity for computer training class came up and he was excited about it. Reggie was a little less than thrilled.

“In Fargo? Why do you have to do the classes in Fargo?”

“Because that’s where they are.”

“There’s a college right here in town.”

“But these classes will be paid for by the VA and so will the housing.”

“Goddammit, Van! We’re out of the friggin’ military and you’re still at their beck and call.”

“It’s a Monday through Thursday class. I’ll be home for three-day weekends and I can get up and leave early Monday mornings. You won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Like hell.” She went outside and sat on the swing that was in the yard, left by the previous owner. Sometimes it made her sad, causing her to think about kids, but sometimes it was nice for her to plop in herself, too. Van joined her outside, carrying two beers.

“I really want to do this, Reg,” he said, handing her one.

“You’re going to do it no matter what I say.”

“No, I won’t. If you’re really going to be upset about this, I won’t do it.”

“Then that makes me selfish.”

“Yes and no, baby. I ask a lot of you. My schedules have always sucked, not to mention the crap with my back. If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.”

She got off the swing, straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tight. “I don’t want you to go…” After a long hesitation she said, “But go.”

“Really?”

“I don’t want to keep you from something you want to do just because I’ll be lonely.”

“It’ll go fast.”

“How long is it anyway?”

“Six months to a year.”

“I know you; that means a year. Dammit, Van, just say a year. When you say a drive is two or three hours it’s always three. When are you going to learn to give me the high end so I’m happy when it’s the low end instead? It’ll be a freaking year.”