Gooseberry Island (21 page)

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Authors: Steven Manchester

BOOK: Gooseberry Island
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The dinner ended with a toast. With glasses raised, Craig announced, “To David and Lindsey: whether your path leads through sun or freezing rain, may you always travel it together. And may all the love in this tent go with you.”

Glasses clinked. The young couple kissed.

At the end of the reception dinner, David called for everyone’s attention by proposing a toast to his new wife. All glasses were raised. “To Lindsey,” he said, “the love of my life. When you were born, the angels danced, and I feel like you were sent just for me…that we were born for each other.” He peered hard into her tearing eyes. “I will love you forever.”

The girls of the Thursday Night Club swooned and, after soft applause and sniffles, the music began. David and Lindsey’s first song—the entire song—lasted one kiss.

Denis and Lindsey danced next, both crying into each other’s shoulders. “I want the best for you,” he whispered.

“I know, Dad,” she said, and looked at her new husband. “And that’s exactly what I’ve been blessed with.”

*
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
*

Had David and Lindsey waited a decade, that first night together would have been worth the wait.

It didn’t take long to learn each other’s pleasure spots. They began touching and teasing each other with their fingers, their tongues. They gently caressed one another. The heat between them was intense. Kissing passionately, they shamelessly shed the rest of their clothes. David teased Lindsey until she was on the edge and surrendered to him. They then moved together in ripples of ecstasy. Sweaty and panting, they held each other until they could begin again—all night—anything they desired.

David stared at her. “I knew that once I had your heart, the rest would be absolutely amazing.”

She purred. “I thought it would be incredible, too, but I could have never imagined this,” she said and then initiated another round of lovemaking.

12

For David and Lindsey, married life was a blur of wonder and ecstasy
. At night, they enjoyed the warmth and security of lying quietly in each other’s arms. Many nights, soft music played in the background, while the dim light of flickering candles offered just enough light to reveal the contours of their naked bodies. While David stroked Lindsey’s hair and offered the sweetest, most gentle kisses on her forehead, she stroked his broad chest and said aloud, “Thank you, God, for bringing such a beautiful man into my life.”

Hand-in-hand, they took long walks—usually at the beach. Sometimes, they stopped along the way to sit on their park bench and steal a kiss from each other. On the ride home, they stopped off at the local ice cream shop to treat themselves to giant cones of double chocolate. While they ate, both counted off the minutes until bedtime. It was absolutely magical, rediscovering each other and falling in love again and again.

*
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
*

No matter how busy life became, David thought about Max Jr.. One afternoon, he grabbed a sheet of stationery and wrote:

*

Dear Max Jr.,

I served with your father in Afghanistan. We were brothers, and your dad was one of the few bonafide heroes of the war—not because he fired on the enemy or took fire, but because he would have offered his own soul to a dying Afghan child. No matter where life may take you, keep your chin up and be proud. Few people can say that their father was a real hero!

When we were in Afghanistan, your dad saved my life. I’ve always felt I owed him one (though he would have argued it). In any event, as I never got the chance to pay your dad back, I now owe it to you. So whenever the day comes that you need someone—for whatever reason at all—just call on me and I’ll be right there for you. It’s a promise that your father’s already paid for.

Your friend,

David

*

A week later, he received a letter from Laurie, Max Jr.’s mom.

*

David,

We received the letter you sent to Max Jr. It was beautiful. Thank you for giving my son a great sense of pride and the realization that his dad is a hero. There could not be a more precious gift. Max Jr. is so proud. He’s been showing all his little friends, and I think it’s great for him. Although I have no explanation for him now, in the long run he will understand why his dad died so young. My heart is broken forever for my son. He lost one of the greatest men I’ve ever known.

Max Jr. will always treasure your letter, and so will I.

Thank you again,

Laurie

*

David dropped the letter and wiped his eyes. He quickly replied:

*

Laurie,

I pray that Max Jr. understands his dad was a great man and loved by many men who also chose to serve a purpose higher than themselves. Tragically, it cost us in the end, but I pray Max Jr. realizes his dad didn’t die from a random addiction but was the casualty of war.

David

*

David started to get up when something stopped him. It was the strong, familiar feeling of needing to be there for a brother. He looked up and smiled.
Okay, Max
, he thought,
let’s up the ante and go all the way with this
.

Moved by an incredible spirit, David wrote Joyce Reney. She was a premiere advocate for suffering war veterans and hosted two national radio shows,
The Power
Hour
and
The Reney Report
. David had dealt with her several times and not only considered her to be the hardest fighter for suffering veterans but also knew her to be a living saint. He wrote:

*

Hi Joyce,

It’s been a while since we last spoke. I hope life is treating you well. The reason I’m writing is to ask a small favor. I have a comrade from the Fourth Ranger Battalion that died. He was ill for much too long and could not find relief at the VA. As a result, he self-medicated until he silenced his pain with an overdose. His name was Max Essington (Sgt.). He was a very honorable man and one hell of a soldier. Not to mention, he saved my life over in Afghanistan.

Tragically, he left behind a son named Max Jr. My brothers from the Fourth Ranger Battalion and I will ensure that the boy knows his dad was an honorable man, but we could use some help. I fear that Max Jr. may grow up never fully understanding why his dad died the way he did. This boy should take pride in his dad’s service to America. Max was one of the few heroes I met. He did everything he could to save a dying Afghan child who tripped a roadside bomb. He would have given his own soul if it were possible. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way. Instead, the boy died in his arms, and Max was haunted terribly over it.

Would you please send a medal to our young friend Max Jr. to remind him that his dad was—and always will be—a hero? Perhaps even a brief note from you would help. Anything would be appreciated. I promise I’ll never forget it.

Thank you and God bless!

David McClain

*
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
*

Stretching out their honeymoon for as long as possible, David and Lindsey spent as much time as they could snuggling on the couch and watching movies. They sat out on their porch and made out like two teenagers, eventually making love beneath the stars—their eyes never once leaving each other’s gaze. And when neither could take any more, David wrapped his love in a soft, fluffy robe and carried her off to bed where he held her for the night.

On weekday mornings, they’d awaken to music blaring in the background. One morning as David reached over her for the third time to swat the snooze button, Lindsey chuckled aloud and realized that he needed more than the alarm clock. She kissed him, giving him the strength he needed to take on the world. Lying on top of him, she whispered sweet nothings and her dreams for their future. With a final kiss on his neck, she shook him. “You need to get up,” she whispered.

While David took his shower, she packed his lunch—including a brief love letter. It was nothing elaborate, just something that would make him smile and keep his thoughts with her, where they belonged. He got dressed and headed for the world that surrounded their dream. “Be careful and hurry back,” she said at the door and sent him off to work with a soft, wet kiss.

*
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
*

At noon, David opened his lunch bag to find a folded love letter. It read,
Your kisses are everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Please don’t ever question my feelings for you. I ache for you and always will. I love you. Lindsey

David read the note two more times and smiled.

A co-worker at Luna Bella passing by his desk stopped and asked, “What are you so happy about?”

“Life,” he said. Minutes later, David held the telephone close to his ear and listened.

“You owe me a soft, wet one,” Lindsey said.

“You’ve got it,” he whispered. “You know, even after two years the sound of your voice still melts me.”

“Trust that I feel everything you do. And that’s what makes us so amazing.”

“I could kiss you for hours,” he said.

“I’m going to hold you to that. Now get back to work. I’ll see you tonight at Courtney’s for supper.”

“That’s right. What’s she making?”

“She said she’s trying a new recipe tonight, an Italian dish with chicken and artichokes.”

“I’ll be the first one there,” he promised. “I love that girl.”

“And what about me?” Lindsey asked.

“You, I worship,” he whispered.

“You’d better,” she said, and hung up the phone.

*
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
*

David was thrilled to email Laurie the good news:

*

Laurie,

I have great news, so please pass it on to Max’s mom and the whole family. I just got word from Joyce Reney, a radio host for a couple of veteran shows. She’s going to read my plea on the air to ensure that Max Jr. lives his life with pride. She told me that she will have people send in letters of support to Max Jr. and that she’ll forward them to me. She says that there may only be a handful, but they’ll be from Afghanistan war vets like his dad, and that they should make a big difference. Also, Joyce will be sending Max Jr. his own medal for the great sacrifice he’s made in the fight against terrorism.

David

*

The hour David spent interviewing on
The Power Hour
was one of the most difficult of his life. To a national audience, he explained who his friend Max Essington was and what the man meant to others. “When we got home,” David said, “besides a list of physical ailments, Max suffered from PTSD with nightmares, flashbacks, depression, and terrible insomnia. But he was told by the VA that none of his problems were service-connected; therefore, they couldn’t help him.” After a brief pause to compose himself, David explained, “As U.S. Army Rangers, we were taught to value loyalty above all things except honor, yet those who called us to serve have shown neither. Because my friend Max couldn’t find relief from his pain, he eventually died.”

Joyce asked David, “Why are you so committed to helping young Max Jr.?”

“The difference between my life and Max’s death is nothing more than a whisper. Besides, I am obligated through honor. I owed a favor to the father. I’m just paying it back to the son.”

Callers phoned in from around the country. Listeners from New York, Kentucky, Wisconsin, Ohio and Texas said “Hi” to David through cracked voices and then told Max Jr. to “stay strong.”

At the end of the show, David directed his final words to Max Jr. Though they applied to thousands of other orphaned children just like his little friend, David explained, “Your father’s death was not the result of some careless drug overdose. He suffered so terribly from the war that his invisible wounds eventually claimed his life. And because of his premature death, you too have been forced to sacrifice a great deal for the fight against terrorism. You are one of us now, Max Jr. Do not be haunted by silence. Be proud of what your father gave to his country and understand it was that noble decision that took his life. If anyone ever questions who your father was, you have thirty
uncles
who you can call on to help explain. I’d be insulted if you didn’t. Be proud, Max Jr., and always keep your chin up. Your dad was a bonafide hero!”

An email immediately followed the show. David opened it.

*

David,

You are an angel! I just know all of this is going to help Max Jr. when he gets older. He is truly blessed to have the gift of your friendship. I enjoyed the show very much, though I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to do it since you experienced so much pain. You continue to make sacrifices, but now for your friends—Max, his son and their entire family. I hope God blesses you every day of your life with health and happiness.

Laurie

*

David replied:

*

Laurie,

It was tough at times. In fact, I had to take a moment once because it was getting really emotional for me. When I think back, though, I’m happy I did it. Max Jr. can’t ever question whether it was sincere. He’ll be able to hear it in my voice. Joyce called me right after the show and raved about the power she felt from it. She also said there were a few callers who called in to comment. I pray it helps.

David
 

*

It will,
Laurie quickly replied.
Thank you for your endless generosity and kindness. You’re an angel from heaven.

David vowed to continue to look after his fallen brother’s son. As such, Max Jr. was silently inducted into the Fourth Ranger Battalion to take his father’s place. At future parades, the boy would march with them. David would do all he could for the boy, but he still didn’t consider he and his deceased comrade even.
There’s no such thing,
he decided.

*

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

*

The following day, David went to the beach to run laps, while Lindsey sat on their park bench and watched him. Every time he passed, their eyes searched each other out and the excitement built. Without a word, they engaged in an intense foreplay that had both of them hoping for the sun to go down a little more quickly. Soaked in sweat, David stole a kiss from her each time he passed. Her smile eventually turned to laughter.

At home, Lindsey bathed after David, while he sneaked a peak and a kiss. “David, I want you to make love to me until the sun pays the world another visit,” she told him.

They never made it to the bedroom.

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