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A chill from the early spring air fills the cab, so I reach behind her and fumble around until I find the key to the ignition to get some heat going. But before I can crank the engine to life, a loud knock on the passenger-side window startles me.
London gasps and jerks her head toward the sound. “Shit. Jesus, Wes. You scared the hell out of me.”
I laugh as she scolds my older brother and then crawls off my lap and over to the passenger side to crank open the window.
The moment London rolls the window all the way down, Wes leans into the cab of the truck with a wicked smile on his face. “You guys do realize that Old Man Jenkins is watching you, right? The two of you are giving him one hell of a show. This is the most action he’s seen in a long time.”
I glance over at the house across the street just in time to see the curtains shake as they’re dropped back into place. “Dirty pervert needs to get laid, bad.”
Wes nods in agreement, causing a strand of blond hair to flop over one eye. He quickly pushes it away. “He does, but until then I think he’s going to continue watching every move London makes like a creeper, so I thought I’d give you guys a heads-up.”
“Thanks, Wes,” London says, and I notice her face is a deep shade of red. “I’m so mortified.”
His eyes soften as he stares down at her. “No problem. Besides, don’t sweat it too bad. I’m sure the old guy didn’t see much.”
My brow furrows the moment I catch my older brother staring at my girl just a few seconds too long for my comfort. When his eyes snap up in my direction, there’s a flash of some unreadable emotion in them, but he quickly
avoids my stare and shoves himself away from the truck.
“I’ll see you around, London,” he calls over his shoulder as he stalks off in the direction of our house, which is a block away.
I watch him walk down the sidewalk into the darkness of the night. Wes’s hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his shoulders slump inward, which in the past has always been a sure sign that he’s uncomfortable. It’s been his go-to move since we were kids, and I’ve seen it a million times, but for the life of me I can’t figure out why he would be acting that way right now. Maybe he’s embarrassed I just caught him looking at London, but it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever caught him doing that.
I’m pretty sure my brother has always had a thing for my girl, but he knows better than to ever act on it. For one, he knows that London is not interested, and two, he knows that just because he’s a year older doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of kicking his ass. All the time in the gym has served me well. Wes, while athletic, tends to spend most of his time nowadays studying. He’s going to be an engineer, and his course load is crazy. He’s definitely more of the brain in the family, where I am more of the brawn, but I’m not a dummy when it comes to books either. I just chose something a little easier as far as school goes. A business degree will serve me well when I’m negotiating deals when I go pro next year. I have the feeling I’ll be reading over a lot of contracts.
“It was lucky Wes let us know about our audience. I was just about to rip off your clothes again and maul you here in the front seat in front of God and, well, everyone else who was watching,” London teases and then sighs as she glances at the clock on the dashboard. “I should probably head in anyhow. It’s late.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss. “Do me a favor and keep the ring between you and me until I have a chance to tell Mom about it. I want to tell them both at the same time when Dad makes his weekly call home on Sunday.”
London nods. “How’s your dad doing over there? Did they say when he’ll be able to come home yet? I know last time he called he was miserable with all the heat over there in Afghanistan.”
“No, but he said they can’t keep him over there much longer. His Stop Loss is about to be lifted, I think.”
“That’s the rule where they can keep someone in the service even after they’ve completed their time commitment to the military?”
I nod. “Yep. Things are looking better over there. After all, they’ve had nearly three years to get squared away since nine eleven. Dad told Mom that the most the army could hold them over there was two years solid without giving him time to come home, and we’re coming up on the two-year mark in less than three months.”
She reaches over and threads her fingers through mine, giving them a little squeeze. “I know how much you miss him. He’ll be home soon.”
I stare down at London’s hand laced with mine, trying not to dwell on how much I actually miss my father. His Sunday-morning calls are the reason we come home every weekend instead of staying in our dorm rooms. I miss a lot of Sunday calls because I’m always traveling for away games with the team, but when I have home games, I’m here.
It’s good to be able to hear his voice and know he’s doing all right even though he’s stuck in the middle of the desert, fighting for our country in what our government is calling Operation Iraqi Freedom. It’s a war I only partially understand. I know there were a lot of lives lost when those planes hit our towers, and we need to retaliate and make sure that shit never happens on our soil again, but there’re so many other political aspects that I don’t get. Like why is my dad in Afghanistan if the people we’re after are in Iraq? I just don’t get it, and I sure as hell don’t like it, because it’s keeping Dad away from us.
Most people say that’s what he signed up for when he joined the army. Maybe that’s true of guys that enlist in active duty, but Dad is in the National Guard. The most he was ever gone when I was growing up was two weeks a year. I don’t think he bargained for being away from his family for nearly two years.
London leans in and kisses my cheek, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She opens the passenger-side door and hops out.
“Good night, babe,” I call to her before she shuts the door and heads up to her house.
If it weren’t for London keeping my head on straight, I don’t know what I would’ve done while Dad’s been gone. It’s like she’s my guardian angel—one I’m glad to have in my life. I don’t know what I’d ever do if I lost her.
NOW
LONDON
Bright blue paint swirls onto the paper from my brush as all of the children lean over my shoulder. “You can use your imagination and make the house any color you want.” I push the paint over the white paper with my brush as my preschool students watch while I quickly create a multicolored house in front of them. “Now, boys and girls, I want you to sit at your desk and paint a house, but make sure to keep it on the paper, please,” I quickly add as they scamper off to their desks.
