“Okay, sounds wonderful.” I get up from the bed and walk to the bathroom. “Just give me a few minutes to freshen up and change.”
He nods. “I’ll be waiting, but get a move on. Our reservation is in an hour, and the restaurant is forty minutes away.”
Jake, the little stinker, already made reservations at the Melting Pot, my absolute favorite restaurant. They have the best fondue entrees, appetizers, and desserts. I love eating fondue because I can do so many creative combinations.
“So is it really going to take thirteen hours to get there?” I ask Jake as the waitress is serving us our cheese appetizer.
“Yep,” he says as he dips his bread in the amazing, warmed-cheese mixture.
“Do you all have to stop?”
“Nope, we’re flying our own jets.” He hesitates for a minute and then says, “We call it flying or going organic.”
I give him a puzzled look. “Call what?”
“Flying our own planes.”
Now I am more confused. I put a piece of bread on my skewer and dip it in the cheese. “Honey?” I place the cheesy bread in my mouth. Once I have it chewed and swallowed, I ask, “Isn’t flying on your own jets actually flying?” Before he can answer, I keep going. “Why would you make it a point to call it flying when that is what it actually is?” I put another piece of bread on the skewer and dip it in the cheese. “I’m so confused.”
And then, if I weren’t already confused, he comes back with: “Well, there are other ways to get there.”
I don’t know what happened to our conversation. I’m more perplexed than ever.
“But you are flying,” I say. “So of course you would call it flying.”
Just when I think he is going to say something that makes this all make sense, he says, “By air, I mean.”
I have no words. “If you took a boat, would you be sailing?” I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, and I tap him on the arm. “Oh wait, that’s the navy.”
He gives me the most annoyed look, and all I can do is laugh.
To add insult to injury, I say, “This conversation needs to go in one of my books.”
He cocks his head toward me and grins. “Darling, most conversations with you about military things need to go in your books.”
I love this man. He successfully eased away my fears about him leaving by making me laugh. For the remainder of the night, we enjoy our fondue, talk, and laugh. When we get home, Jake is quite amorous, which is unusual. We never have sex the night before he leaves on a deployment, but this time, he’s being so cute and frisky. Who am I to say no? Needless to say, we have a wonderful evening.
The next morning, Jake gets up early, kisses me good-bye, and heads downstairs to leave. The nagging feeling comes back, so I jump out of bed and run down the stairs. “Jake!” I yell. “Wait!”
He’s at the front door picking up his bags, and I run to him. He drops his bags just in time to catch me in his arms. “What?”
“I just wanted to say good-bye again.” I look at his face and smile. “I never want to forget your face, your smile, the way your arms feel around me… Hold me, baby.”
He squeezes tighter and says, “Baby, I told you I will be home before you know it.”
“I know. You are right. This year will go by fast, and you will be home, and everything will be fine.” I kiss him again. “Jake, never forget how much I love you. You have been the world to me since seventh grade. You have been my best friend, the love of my life, my soul mate, and my rock. Everything I am is because of you.”
“Jayden, what is this all about?” He kisses my forehead. “You’ve never been this anxious before when I have deployed in the past. What’s going on?”
I know he won’t let up until I tell him. “I’m just so scared this time. I just have a nagging feeling this is the last time I will ever see you.” Tears roll down my cheeks.
He wipes a tear away. “Oh, darling, you are so wrong. I will defy anything to get back home to you. If I have to move heaven and earth, I will do it. You’ll see.” He squeezes me again and then releases me. “I really have to go, hon. I love you to the moon and back and every place in between.”
“I love you too. Be safe and please, baby, come back to me.”
“It’s a promise.” He kisses me one last time, then picks up his bags and turns to leave. I watch as he walks down the front porch to the driveway. I can’t leave the doorway. I watch as he gets in the car and starts the engine. He pulls down the driveway and out onto the street. Before he drives away, he opens his window and waves at me. Once he is out of sight, I go inside and cry.
***
