Once arcaded-out, Sam and I drifted down Starfish Drive on the sidewalk opposite of Beach Read. The night was beautiful. Stars dotted a cloudless sky, and the lights of stores, streets, and the pier added to the already warm and lovely collection. A slight breeze cooled my skin, making me inch closer to Sam and he gently rubbed my fingers as he held my hand.
This perfectly pleasant, joyful moment was ruined when I asked, “Ready to tell me about Fayetteville?” Sam’s expression went from happy to frustrated in the time it took to take one more step toward home.
Three hours up the Cape Fear River from Tipee Island, Fayetteville, North Carolina is home to over 205,000 people, most of them soldiers. It is also home to Fort Bragg, an enormous military base, which hosts the U.S. Army’s Airborne and Special Operation Forces.
Sam had spent six years of his life in and out of Fayetteville, including the night of the Peacock party, and I had to know why. But, getting to the bottom of it was hard, like I was cracking open one of the dusty boxes in Sam’s head and peering inside.
When he didn’t answer right away, I said, “I’m not trying to be THAT kind of girlfriend, Sam, at least I don’t want to be. I don’t have to know every move you make or every thought that runs through your head. It’d be nice to have all that laid out for me, but that’s not what I’m after. We’re still new and figuring each other out, and I totally get that I’m not the best communicator. I’m actually pretty awful at communicating, especially considering the extensive number of words I use every day. Seems like the more words I use, the less I say, like right now.”
Sam smiled, looking both ways for us, and gently tugged me across the street.
Standing outside on the sidewalk of Beach Read, I went on, “But, there can’t be gaping holes in what I know about you, either. Just like you wouldn’t want me to have secrets, you can’t expect me to live quietly with yours. What happens when I don’t know something is that I start filling in the blanks myself. And that just leads to trouble because my imagination is permanently set on absolute-worst-case-scenario mode.”
Sam chuckled at this, and prompted me with, “So, what did your imagination fill the blanks with in regards to my Fayetteville trip?”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
“Tell me,” he urged, grabbing my other hand so he could pull me closer. “I’m curious.”
I huffed. “Let’s see. I had you running off to meet a mistress, maybe even your ex-wife, but in my head she looks like a ridiculously gorgeous Sports Illustrated swimsuit model with a name like Emmanuel. That’s one theory. Another, scarier, but less humiliating idea was that your business had to do with the military, that maybe you’re not exactly free from your obligations, though I couldn’t imagine how you could possibly still be a soldier.”
“Once a soldier, always a soldier.”
I winced. “Just tell me.” I leaned back against Beach Read’s outside street lamp, waiting for his answer (and determined to get it).
“First of all, you should never worry about being THAT kind of girlfriend. The only kind of girlfriend you are is the right one,” Sam said. “And you’re right. There shouldn’t be gaping holes in what we know about each other, and me going out of town without telling you, that’s a gaping hole. I’m sorry.”
Willie spotted us from inside Beach Read and pawed at the glass door. And, when I didn’t give him any attention, he barked. Not now, Willie, I wanted to scold, but it was no use. Sam was already stepping toward the door. One leash and several minutes later, we were walking Willie down the back alley of Beach Read, and Sam hadn’t picked up where he’d left off.
When I was a child, one of my favorite things to do was build forts. Since my mother wouldn’t let me watch TV or play with friends (particularly after I almost drowned at one of their houses), I spent a great deal of time entertaining myself. I’d gather up blankets, sheets, and towels and create intricate mazes made of furniture and linens. Once, I managed to “fort”ify my entire bedroom. Building forts was not only fun, but the forts themselves were also places to escape, to hide.
Sam and I were both guilty of building forts around the parts of ourselves we wanted to stay hidden. But, even though we shared this capacity, I couldn’t accept it.
“So, Fayetteville?” I prodded after it was clear he wasn’t going to pick it back up.
He nodded and breathed out heavily. “Right, Fayetteville. When I was in the army, I got to know this guy named Mason Cook, became like a brother to me. We stay in touch. He’s out of the army now, but he lives in Fayetteville. He called, asked for my help, so I went.”
“What’d he need help with?”
“His business,” Sam answered, watching Willie instead of looking at me. “And the work he does, well, I can’t talk about it.”
“Even with me?” I prodded.
Sam shook his head. “Don’t worry. There’s no mistress.” Sam grinned widely. “And I haven’t been with a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model since Brianna and she doesn’t live in Fayetteville.”
I cocked my head and hit him playfully on the shoulder, once I was sure he was kidding. He was kidding, right?
“What about your ex-wife?” I tried, hesitantly. “Was she the swimsuit model type?”
Sam cleared his throat and glanced down at the concrete. I remembered what that woman had said, he had her sent away. Questions about his ex-wife had haunted me ever since, almost as much as I worried about where he’d been during his mysterious absence.
Walls were forming between us that I didn’t understand, and like potato chips, we couldn’t stop at one. I didn’t tell him about my panic issues, how my water fears now rivaled Mt. Everest in size and mass, that my panic attacks could be measured by Richter (yes, making me a hypocrite) and likewise, he kept me away from the dark areas of his life.
“You’re trying to fill all the gaping holes tonight, aren’t you?” he chuckled lightly.
I shrugged. “With one partially solidified, why not work on others?”
Sam nodded, but his face fell. “It’s funny that you should bring her up,” Sam decided, “because I’ve been meaning to-”
A loud voice echoed down the alleyway, “There you are!” Sam and I both turned toward the corner of Beach Read to see Raina skirting around the bend. “I’ve been looking for you, both of you!”
Raina was wearing another one of her colorful sundresses, her signature look since her belly started protruding. Her blond hair brushed her bare shoulders and her face well, like everyone always says about pregnant women, was glowing.
“I have big news!” she exclaimed. “Huge! ‘Cause that’s what I’m goin’ to be. HUGE!” She was speaking so fast and with so much animation that I worried she might be too excited. She glanced around the dingy alleyway and her face drooped. “Don’t want to tell you in an alley, though. Can we go somewhere else?”
Before Sam and I could offer any suggestions, she decided for us. “Let’s go to the store. Can we go to the store? That’d be perfect.”
Quickly, we headed to the store, but Raina didn’t make it. As we rounded the corner to the front sidewalk, she said, “Twins!” and then she laughed delightedly.
“Wait, twins?” I asked. She nodded, face alight with joy. I gave her an enormous bear hug, gentle on the squeezing.
“Doctor’s sure,” she explained. “Two heartbeats. Heard ‘em myself. Mamma, too. It was like music.”
“Congratulations,” Sam said, giving her a quick embrace. “That’s amazing news.”
“I’m just so happy,” she said, tears forming in her green eyes. “Darryl’s gone, but look what God did? Left me with not one, but two sweet babies. I’m sure Darryl put in that request ‘cause he was always talkin’ about how he wanted a big family, lots of kids.”
Sam held the door open for us, and we piled into the store, already shut down for the night. Henry had gone out, but he’d left the lamp on at the counter, giving the store a warm and inviting glow. Willie padded over to his water bowl, and then settled down on one of the beanbags.
“It’s wonderful, Raina,” I told her. “We’re thrilled for you and we’ll help-”
“Absolutely,” Sam chimed in, “any way we can.”
Raina smiled widely. “Glad you said that, ‘cause there’s somethin’ else.”
“Something else?” I repeated. “What else could-”
“I want you two to be my babies’ godparents,” Raina said, much calmer but still grinning. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I been prayin’ ‘bout it and it’s just been impressed upon my heart that these babies need you two to be their godparents. And I know that’s what Darryl woulda wanted. Will you?”
My breathing stopped, and then sputtered back to life again. Tears flooded my eyes. “Oh, Raina.” I couldn’t answer any more than that, but instead, embraced her again.
“Of course,” Sam answered for us. “We’d be honored.”
“I know it’s customary for godparents to be married,” Raina went on, with a dismissive wave of her hand, “but you two are as good as married, right?”
I choked. Sam answered. “Right.”
“Well, gotta run,” Raina said, smiling at her not-so-subtle prod. “Rachel’s warmin’ up the popcorn. We’re watchin’ movies tonight.”
She left us there in a stupor. “Godparents,” I repeated. “I can’t believe it.”
“Me, neither,” Sam returned. “Any idea what godparents are supposed to do?”
I laughed. “Was hoping you’d tell me.”
“Guess we’ll figure it out together,” he chuckled, grabbing my hand. I nodded. That, and a million other things, I was sure. But, as for the ex-wife question, the fort was re-secured. Even with prompting, he didn’t talk about her again, and in some weird way, I was glad.