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From: [email protected]

  Subject: The Bigger Person

  I took your advice (and Palmer’s too) and talked to my mother. I guess it helped that I had a bottle of Hammond Wine liquid courage to assist. Nothing was decided, and I didn’t forgive her. We called a truce, for Dad’s sake. I don’t want him to be surrounded by negativity. I just can’t forgive her after eight years, especially after she told me that for the past three years she’s been living on Orcas Island.

  Tomorrow, my dad comes home. Hospice care is delivering his bed and all of the equipment today, and we’ll have a nurse around the clock. I guess the clock is officially ticking now … I wonder how long it will take for the end to come.

  How are you doing? There’s not much on the news, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Something is always happening in the world somewhere, right?

  Wherever you are, stay safe. I love you.

  Yours, Cami

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Cami

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Sneaky

  I’m happy to hear that you have called a truce with your mother. That makes me feel a little better about her return. I know that forgiveness will take time, but you’ve taken a step in the right direction. You’ll be a lot happier that you did it now rather than later.

  Currently, I’m fine. You know that I can’t tell you any specifics of what is happening or what I’m doing. Right now, it’s a lot of training but also a lot of hurry up and wait. So, I can at least tell you that I’m not in any immediate danger. I’m positive that I will be going out on a patrol very soon, so just prepare yourself in case you don’t hear from me for a while.

  I dream about you every night, and I can’t wait until, instead of dreaming about you in my arms, I can actually hold you in my arms. Stay strong, baby. You can do this; we can do this.

  Yours, G.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Update

  My condo in Seattle has officially been listed. I met with Miranda today and finalized the listing. I can’t believe how much money she suggested as an asking price! But she said that Amazon is driving up prices, so I guess that works in my favor. She doesn’t expect my unit to stay on the market long because apparently, I own in a “high-demand” building. I guess I did one thing right.

  Dad came home from the hospital yesterday. So far, he seems comfortable. We set up his bedroom in his office. I spent the night with him there listening to records until we both fell asleep. I was planning on staying in the guest house for a while, but I think it’s best to be as close as possible. The doctors have revised their prognosis and now say that he has about six months. He’s not in any pain right now, which is good.

  I know you can’t tell me what’s happening or any specifics, but I’m glad to hear that your days are pretty boring right now. I wouldn’t mind if all you did were trainings and simulations, but I know that’s not why you were deployed. I’ll start preparing myself for lack of communication.

  I think I’m falling deeper in love with you with every email that I receive. I still feel so connected to you despite the distance. I look forward to going to bed every night because that’s where I can see you. In my dreams, I relive every moment we spent together and some that maybe haven’t happened yet. Each night that passes brings me one day closer to seeing you again.

  I love you. Stay safe.

  Yours, Cami

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Two weeks

  I guess patrols finally started because it’s been two weeks since your last email. Are you safe? I hope so.

  Dad is still doing well. He’s had a few bad days, but there have been way more good ones than bad. He sleeps quite a bit, and we’ve been listening to his albums. He loves being surrounded by them. And I love learning about the music he loves so much. Rock and roll sounds so much better with a brass section! He might just make it past six months …

  I’ve been baking a lot. It keeps my mind off things, especially if I’m making something labor-intensive and difficult. Last week, I made dozens of these fluffy pastry balls because I wanted to try making a croque-en-bouche. I even let my mom help, which brought back so many memories of baking with her when I was a kid. When we were done, the kitchen was a complete mess, and we were both covered in wispy bits of spun sugar, but the result was spectacular and delicious.

  The head chef of the restaurant where I used to work in Seattle called me today. He’s opening up a new concept restaurant in Napa Valley and wants me to be the head pastry chef. I want to say “YES!” but I can’t commit to anything yet. And I don’t think he’ll wait too long for my answer.

  I miss you more than I ever thought possible. It’s only been a month, and I thought it would be a little easier than this. But it’s not. This is so very hard.

  Please stay safe.

  Your Cami

  The sound of the phone ringing woke me from a fitful sleep. My last email to Garrett had been sent nearly a week ago, and tonight was one of the worst nights with my father. I was so optimistic that he would make it beyond the predicted six months, and now it seemed like he wouldn’t even make it that far. He was fighting an infection, and with his weakened immune system, it was difficult.

  “Prepare yourselves,” the nurse had told Valerie and me in hushed tones. And we did, separately. I cried alone in my room until I was exhausted only to fall into dreams of funerals, first my father’s and then Garrett’s.

  My hand shot out, fumbling along the bedside table until my fingers closed around my phone.

  “Hello?” I answered, my voice thick with sleep.

  “Cami?”

  I sat upright, a hand clasped over my mouth to suppress the immediate cry that threatened to escape my lips. “Oh, my god! Garrett?”

  “It’s me, baby.”

  I couldn’t stop myself; tears flowed endlessly as I succumbed to body-shaking sobs.

  “Don’t cry, Cami. Please, baby. Don’t cry because I’m not there to dry your tears or take you in my arms.”

  His words calmed me; they soothed the ache in my chest that only seemed to worsen as the days passed.

  “It’s been three weeks,” I moaned.

  “I know, I’m sorry. I tried to warn you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just tired.”

  My shoulders sagged with relief. “When did you get back to base?”

  “About an hour ago. My CO owed me some time with the phone,” he lightly joked. “How’s your dad?”

  “Tonight was the worst night. His nurse told us to start making preparations.”

  Garrett swore under his breath and was silent for a moment. “I want to be there, Cami. So much.”

  “Just hearing your voice makes everything better.”

  “I can’t talk much longer, but I knew you’d be worried. I’m sure my inbox is bursting.”

  I laughed softly. “No, it’s not. I knew that if you weren’t replying that meant you were out scouting.”

  “You’re so strong, Cami. I’m a lucky man to have you.”

  “For you, I can be strong. And for my dad and Valerie too, but I’m weak. I feel so helpless lately.”

  Muffled voices sounded in the background, and Garrett sighed impatiently. “Okay, okay,” he told whoever was in the room with him. “I’m sorry, Cami, but I have to go.”

  “Okay. Stay safe, Garrett.” I was disappointed that our conversation was ending so soon. Only a few precious minutes spent talking to him after weeks waiting for an email. But this was better than nothing. Hearing his voice gave me the strength I needed.

  “Cami? You’re not weak or helpless. Just stay strong.”

  And then the line disconnected.

  Now that I was awake, I crawled out of my bed and padded down to my dad’s study. I knew that
he hardly slept. Soft light trickled out from underneath the door, and I quietly opened it. His eyes were closed, and he looked uncomfortable. I shuffled over to his bed and sat down next to him, pulling my chair right up against his bed.

  “Cami?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. A sigh of relief escaped my lips; he was still here. His eyes closed again, but I knew that tonight wasn’t the night.

  I felt restless so I stood and walked over to the shelves filled with records. I flipped through them until I found the worn album cover that I was looking for, Van Morrison’s “Moondance.” It was one of my father’s favorites, and it had often been played on Sunday mornings when my mother would cook a huge breakfast. She was his gypsy, and he’d tried to tame her. I headed to the stereo and placed the record on the turntable. Carefully, I lifted the needle until it caught on the record. Soon, the room was filled with Van Morrison’s smooth voice. Reclaiming my seat, I held my father’s hand and listened quietly to as we drifted off into Van Morrison’s mystic.

  The bright sun stirred me from my sleep. My eyes fluttered open, and I realized that I was still in the armchair next to my father’s bed. One glance at his chest slowly rising and falling, and I knew we had made it through the night. He had lived to see another day. I slipped my hand from his and stood, stretching out my sore muscles. I smiled as I remembered the brief conversation with Garrett last night. The sound of his voice was a balm to my weary heart. I quietly let myself out of my father’s room and walked to the kitchen. Valerie and my mom were sitting in the sunny room, sipping coffee and eating the remnants of a cake I baked yesterday. I cut myself a healthy slice and joined them.

  “How is he doing?” my mother asked me with a knowing glint in her eye.

  “He’s sleeping.” I bit into the cake as Valerie placed a mug filled with coffee in front of me.

  “You were listening to ‘Moondance’ last night?”

  “Yes. I thought it would make him feel better.”

  “Good choice. We only have to worry when he starts asking for Neil Young.” All three of us laughed at the memory of my father’s infamous Neil Young phase.

  “No offense to ‘Heart of Gold,’ but I never want to hear ‘Old Man’ again,” Valerie said with a smile. It felt good to laugh after what felt like weeks of walking around on eggshells.

  “Garrett called last night,” I informed them. As I recapped the brief conversation, I realized how relieved I felt knowing that after three weeks, he was safe. If something had happened, then surely his brother Oliver would have called.

  “I’m so happy you were able to talk to him. I know you worry about him and your father,” my mother said, covering my hand gently with hers. For the first time since her return, I didn’t pull away from her touch. It wasn’t quite forgiveness, but I had to admit that having the comfort of my mother made this unbearable situation tolerable.

  When I returned to my little sanctuary in the guest house, I opened my email expecting to find one from Garrett since he returned to base. But there wasn’t one. Disappointed, I opened a blank email.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Long Night

  We endured the night—Dad made it through. After our brief conversation, I went to his room and spent time with him. I put on one of his favorite records, one that brought me nothing but happiness as a child, and listened to it quietly while I sat next to him. It was nice just spending that time with him, even if he didn’t know that I was there.

  Things with my mom are slowly improving. I feel almost relieved that she is here now because she shares some of the weight of caring for my father. We had a moment today too … where I didn’t back away from her touch. It’s a small step toward forgiveness, but that path is miles long.

  I want to say something, though I’ll probably sound like a brat. I was so disappointed with how short our phone call was and then to find no email waiting for me made it worse. I miss you like crazy and hearing the sound of your voice only made me crave more. It’s been a month. I know that I can endure eight more, but I don’t know how long I can with radio silence.

  I love you. Stay safe.

  Yours, Cami.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Cami

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Tonight.

  Log into Skype tonight at 8 pm your time. Wear the contents of the package you received today.

  You’re mine.

  Love, G.

  I was practically giddy reading that email. And then once his surprise was delivered, I was over the moon. For the entire day, I was on cloud nine, and I even decided to treat myself to a rare blowout because I wanted to feel beautiful and sexy. An hour before the scheduled time, I opened the box that arrived earlier in the day. Inside was a delicate white lace dress with thin straps. I slipped it on and studied myself in the mirror. The bodice had a deep V-neck that revealed a generous amount of cleavage, and my normally wild curls were smooth and glossy.

  At 7:55, I logged onto Skype, eager to be ready for our virtual date. While I waited for Garrett, I wondered what kind of favors he owed for this and to whom.

  When the call box popped up, I grew nervous, and my hands started to shake. I quickly pressed the “connect” button and waited for his face to appear on my screen.

  I nearly fell out of my chair. If it was possible, Garrett was even more handsome. His hair was a little longer on top and messy, and his beard was a little fuller. He wore an olive green T-shirt that stretched tightly across his chest, and I couldn’t help licking my lips. The minute he saw me, a smile stretched across his face.

  “Hey, baby,” he said. His voice sounded a little tinny, but it didn’t matter because he arranged all of this just for me.

  “Hey, good looking.” I reached up and lightly traced his face with my fingers. He mimicked my movement and touched his fingers to the screen.

  “Well, I can see the dress fits. Damn,” he growled.

  “Thank you so much. I love it.”

  “When I can, I’ll do my best to surprise you. How are you doing?”

  “Better, now.” He gave me a look that demanded nothing but the complete truth. “I’m tired. I only get a few hours of sleep each night because I’m so worried about my dad.”

  “How is he doing?” Garrett leaned forward in his chair, and all I wanted to do was reach out, grab his face, and kiss him hard.

  “It’s rough right now. He’s battling an infection. He’s responding to treatment, but his doctor said that if he contracts another one, he might not survive. The house is so sterile. It’s like walking into a bubble.”

  “I’m sorry that I’m not there with you, baby.”

  “This helps.”

  “Your hair is different.” Automatically, I reached up and tugged on a few strands.

  “Do you like it?” I asked shyly.

  “I don’t know. I like it wild, so I can run my hands through it.” He studied me for a few seconds before a hungry look transformed his face. “But I kind of like this look. You look like a good girl hiding the bad.”

  “Well, I definitely can be bad.” I reached up and slipped a hand underneath the bodice of my dress to cup one of my breasts. I bit down on my lip and looked up at the screen through hooded eyes.

  “Fuck, Cami.” Garrett sat back in his chair, spreading his legs wide. His hand slid to his crotch and cupped it. He tugged at his cock lightly. “I miss you so much. All I can think about is having you under me. Even though I’m halfway around the world, I still smell jasmine whenever I think about you, and it gets me hard.”

  “Have you taken matters into your own hand?”

  Garrett nodded. “Every time I shower, baby. I picture your gorgeous lips wrapped around my dick, and then I imagine the tight, wet heat of your pussy.”

  Garrett unbuckled his pants and palmed his cock through his boxer briefs. He flicked his chin up and said, �
�Show me your tits, Cami. I want to see those pretty pink nipples.”

  One strap glided down my shoulder followed by the other, and I pushed the bodice down around my waist, exposing my breasts. I reached up to cup them both, which made him groan.

  “Is this what you want?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Yes, baby. Fuck, yes.” He took his cock out and stroked it for me. Momentarily, I worried about someone barging into the room he was in and interrupting us, but I was too enthralled by the sight of his cock in his hand to care.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as I continued this private show. I played with my nipples, tugging on them, trying to relieve some of the aching tension, but it wasn’t enough. “Show me your pussy now, baby. Lift that dress up and let me see how wet you are.”

  I leaned back and spread my legs, hooking them over the arms of the chair. Obeying his wish, I lifted the skirt of my dress, letting it bunch around my waist. I pushed aside my panties and dipped a finger into my core. Involuntarily, I groaned at that first contact.

  “I’m so wet, Garrett,” I moaned.

  “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you think about.”

  My finger slipped up to circle my clit as my hips rose slightly off the chair. “I think about your cock filling me up. You feel so amazing when you’re buried inside me, Garrett. All I feel now is empty.”

  “Put that finger back inside your pussy and imagine it’s my cock.” I followed his command and started to slowly finger fuck myself. “Add another one, baby.”

  I felt delirious as I obeyed, pushing another finger inside. On the screen, Garrett was leisurely stroking his cock. My eyes locked on his and held his attention, and soon we were in sync, our hands and fingers moving at the same rhythm until my body started to hum and my muscles started to tighten.

  “I’m going to come,” I breathed out.