Dear Soldier Boy (2 page)

Probably shouldn’t tell you that either. It's not a good lead-in  to  woo you as my pen pal or whatever this will become. Why do I feel so comfortable writing to you? I’ve never even kept a diary. I’ve never really written much of anything other than reports. But that is truly boring. Well, for a soldier. Actually, given that you're a soldier, you might find them interesting or not. But anyway. I’m going to stop  before I embarrass myself any further and hope that you might be writing me back.

Dear Matthew (so happy you turned out to be a man!),                             December 10th

Wow, you can imagine how thrilled and truly surprised I was to receive your letter. I never even contemplated how long it might take for me to receive a response from you via snail mail, given the post office and all their blunders. I apologize if your family is employed by the post office, though it seems like I might be safe, given the breakdown of your father (Hoo-rah! Army-is that the right phrase?) and brother’s employment. I went a completely different route than my family. My mom was a teacher who thought I should be one too. No idea why though. I’m not inclined to teach children. Not that I don’t want them. I do someday, hopefully, but I am getting up there in my years. I’m actually writing to you from my rocker. I just slipped a piece of grey hair behind my ear and adjusted my spectacles!

Ha, I’m horrible. I shouldn’t torture you to think you are writing an old woman. Why do I do this? I have no idea. I have a sick sense of humor. I hope you don’t mind. So, now that I’ve filled your mind with thoughts of Afghans and granny panties, I suppose I should say something about my appearance. I know men are visual creatures and things like that.

I’m edging up on thirty…I’ll let you guess the number. If you haven’t already figured it out, I like playing guessing games
.

So, now you have an idea about my age, do you need anything more? Or should I remain a woman of mystery hidden in a dark scarf and sunglasses? Eep. I shouldn’t have said that either. You have probably seen enough of women hidden in scarves and such. I was trying to be Hollywoodesque, but alas, I failed. Now I suppose I should give you something to go off of. My eyes. They are the key to a person’s soul right? Well mine are hazel. So there you have it. Enjoy that image Matthew!

By the way, I love the idea of visiting San Francisco, I’ve never been. I’ve lived on the east coast my entire life. I even went to school here—William and Mary. Graduated with my Masters in Business Theory and Administration with a minor in accounting. Numbers, am I right? Ha! You probably don’t care about numbers. or maybe you do?

I love numbers, especially the number eight. It took eight days to hear back from you. And I agree, Ironics should definitely be a font. Maybe in your free time in Afghanistan, you can work on making that happen. ;)

(That was my attempt at a wink face with my handwriting, which by the way I’m glad you were able to read as printing is not my forte.)

I don’t have any personal connections to anyone in the military but I do meet with members of the military quite frequently. As I mentioned in my early letter, it is probably best that I not alert you to my company name in case that would cause a conflict of interest. And I really wouldn’t want that, especially given how much I already like you based off one letter. There I go again, sounding odd. Believe me, I’m not like Morello from OITNB. Have you watched that? Do you get a chance to watch shows over there?

I know exactly what you mean about being alone while you are surrounded by others. That is how Christmas would be for me this year. I could go home, but I don’t want to. Around my family, I would feel claustrophobic and alone, all mixed in one.  I gave them an excuse about my job having a major project going on right now, and I couldn’t make the trip. Which isn’t exactly a lie. I always have BIG projects going on. But technically, I could get away and drive up to Pennsylvania to see them. But like I said, I don’t want to. So yes, I’ll be entirely alone on Christmas…cue Elvis.

In case you are wondering, I do not own any cats. I just reread the last paragraph, and I thought I should mention this. I’m not even a cat person; they freak me out. For some reason, they are always clawing at me and—I just shuddered. You couldn’t see it, but I thought you should know. Anyway, I am a dog person. I love dogs. But I’m not home enough to care for one. So, it’s just me and my Ficus plant. (WOW, I sound so lame.)

Anyway, someday, I hope to get a dog. Maybe when work slows down. As if! (That was a shout out to one of my favorite movies as a child).

Your letter is making me hungry. Now I want to rush out for some Mexican food. I love quesadillas, fajitas, and enchiladas, which are all basically tacos rolled differently if you think about it. Your family sounds nice. Where are your mom and dad living? Does your brother send you care packages?

To answer your question, yes, I am single. I’ve had my share of “fun” dates but no lasting relationships. I tried dating a few politicians, and let’s just say, I will not ever make it to senator's wife status. The rest of DC well, I just haven’t met anyone. I have my job and my friends. Liz is married, so we mainly keep our outings to a happy hour or rare brunch on the weekends. And Millie just got engaged, so you can imagine how much free girl time she has. I suppose I could reach out and try to find new gal pals, but I’m not really interested in that.

Thank you for your offer of a triple…that would be really something.

I just reread your letter about me writing hundreds of soldiers, hoping, perhaps, to catch one of them. Hahaha…can you imagine a hundred soldiers receiving my rambling nonsense? I did mention I'm  a career woman. I can’t have more than one person know about the whacky thoughts in my head.

I hope you’ll keep my secret and write again. And if you have access to email, here is mine:
[email protected]

If I don’t hear from you till after Christmas, I hope yours was merry and bright. I bet the stars in Afghanistan truly bring the Christmas spirit to life. ;)

Truly,

Vivian

Chapter Four

[email protected]
Sent: 12/12/15 3:18To:
[email protected]

Dear Civilian Girl,
Your
letter made me smile. It has been a while since I smiled, so my muscles were out
of practice. I needed that, so thank you.
 

I made a game of counting how many times
you said, “I shouldn’t say,” or “I shouldn’t do,” and then followed up by
immediately saying or doing exactly what you say you shouldn’t. I’m smiling again, remembering. You said it a lot. I
feel like I should use an emoticon here so you can see I really am smiling, but
I also feel you'll start questioning my gender again if I do. Manly
emoticons, add that to our list of inventions. We are going to revolutionize
the way people use social media. Check us out, between this and your
clandestine military adjacent/civilian contractor job, I think world
domination is inevitable.
While we are on the subject, you would literally be the worst spy ever. You do realize you've given me enough
information to find out exactly where you work. Granted, I've watched a lot of
Law and Order
, so I'm practically a detective (insert Ironics font here), but
still, the clues were heavy on the ground. One Google search and a browse of
your Linkedin profile would have told me everything. But don’t worry, Civilian
Girl, I did not Google you. If you wanted me to know where you worked, you
would tell me. I understand keeping things private. I do that too. Sometimes, it
is because things are classified. But other times, it's just because they are
mine, and I don’t want to share them with the world. Maybe your job is like that
for you. I respect that.
I have to tell you, I've already shared
more with you than I have with most people. I don’t usually tell people about
Luke and Steven. It is not that I'm ashamed of Luke at all; that could not be
further from the truth. The reality is, I'm usually disappointed in people’s
reaction. I can deal with the overt prejudice and homophobia, because that's easy to shut down. But it's the condemnation—delivered with apparent kindness and concern—that I hate. So I usually
don’t talk about my family at all. It's just easier. But since you asked, Luke
and Steven are my only immediate family. I have some cousins in Montana, but I
haven't seen them in years.
As for my parents, we like to say my father
died of pneumonia. That is the official story, but he died of alcoholism. The
irony is, he never touched alcohol until he retired, not even wine with dinner.
Most people take up golf when they retire; dad took up Scotch. Luke and I
didn’t know it was happening. Mom covered for him until the end. And to be
honest, we were both pretty self-absorbed at that point. When he died, Luke had just moved to
San Francisco and I had just started Ranger School. I was at Camp
Rudder. I’ll never forget my commanding officer handing me that telegram. I
think shell-shocked would be the best way to describe it. I couldn’t believe my
dad was gone. He was my hero. In my mind, he had almost mythical proportions, and
in the end, he was brought to his knees by the bottle.
Anyway, two years later, my mom died of
breast cancer. Another base, another telegram. She never even told us she was
sick. I like to think it was because she
didn’t want to burden us, but sometimes, I wonder if she didn’t tell us because
she didn’t think we'd be there for her even if she had. God, I hope
that wasn’t the case. But I was young and stupid. I can still be stupid, but at
least now I'm old enough to know better. Anyway, I hope she knew that I would
have been there. And I really hope that I would have been. I can say now,
looking back, that I would, but at the time…well, I hope. And now it's  my turn
to say that I really should not have told you that.
We seem to have a knack for confessing things
to each other. I think you’re right; it's the anonymity of this. We can talk
about meeting in some parallel universe, but the reality is, we won’t, and we
probably shouldn’t. That would be too weird. And it would ruin it, whatever
this is. And here's the thing, Vivian, I kind of like this thing we have
going. I would even go as far as saying that your three letters have been the
highlight of the month. If you knew my current living situation, you wouldn't actually consider that a compliment, but it was sincerely meant as one.
While I'm confessing, I should tell you
that I looked you up on Facebook. I wasn’t going to. I was serious when I said
that I respect your privacy. But then I reread your letter, (I won’t tell you
how many times I read it because all my street cred will be destroyed), and I
got to the part about you sitting in a rocker with your grey hair, and I had to
see who you were. I can honestly say I did not care what Vivian Castello looked
like, as long as there really was a Vivian Castello.
So yes, I cyber stalked you. And damn, I'm glad I did. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you look nothing like
what I thought you would. You are gorgeous. I thought, well, let’s not talk about
what I thought you would look like. Again, I would like to point out that I
didn’t/don’t care what you look like. I would be writing this email even if you
looked like, well, the way I assumed you would look. But lucky for you, you
don’t. You’re beautiful, Vivian. I'm sure you hear that a lot, but it is true. I
am actually glad I didn’t know what you looked like when I got your first
letter. I would have tried to up my game,  failed miserably, and come off
as a complete jackass. Which reminds me, that soldier at Starbucks really is a
moron. Was he blind? You slip me your email, I am writing you back.
To answer your question about care
packages, no, Luke does not send me stuff, but Steven does. Every month or so, I
get a jar of Jif peanut butter and a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s maple syrup. I don’t think they can legally call it maple syrup anymore, because it is really
chemical-flavored, high fructose corn syrup, but damn, that stuff is good. That's what my childhood tasted like. God bless commissaries.
Anyway, I should get to bed. I have another
exciting day ahead of me. I would tell you what it entails, but lucky for the
United States Armed Forces and the safety of the Free World, I keep a better
secret than you.
But don’t feel too bad, you’re far better
looking than me, so there is that. Speaking of which, I don’t have a Facebook
account,
but it's only fair that you get to see a picture of me, so feel free to cyber
stalk my brother or his partner (Steven Rosato). There is picture of me
climbing Mt. Shasta on Steve’s page. I’m the one in the blue shirt.
Luke is in red. Yes, we look alike, and no, we aren’t twins.
Good Night Civilian Girl,
Soldier Boy