Page 30 of Point of Contact

It wasn’t long before they were climbing aboard an outbound Chinook, headed for the base at Jalalabad. Once there they were directed to a cargo plane, and when they finally landed at Bagram Air Field, they immediately went in search of their billet, at last finding it in a huge tent with a plywood floor and seemingly endless rows of Army cots. They chose two cots side by side, stashed their gear, and headed for the showers. Jesse luxuriated in the hot spray, watching ruefully as the water at his feet turned almost black with the grime streaming off his body. He washed his hair three times before wrapping a towel around his waist and joining Riley at the sinks to shave.

“So, wanna come home with me or not, Jess?” Riley asked, his voice muffled as he contorted his cheek to drag the razor over it. When Jesse hesitated, Riley flicked shaving cream at him. “My dad doesn’t hate you, dipshit. If he does, I’ll tell him to stop, okay?”

Jesse met his green eyes in the mirror, flushing when Riley winked at him encouragingly.

“Okay,” Jesse mumbled. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you, man. I’d hate to ruin your trip—” He yelped when Riley slapped his ass to shut him up.

At last squeaky clean, they made their way to the food court, standing uncertainly at the entrance to gaze in uncomfortable awe at the array of choices: burgers, pizza, Chinese, subs, ice cream. There were flat-screen TVs mounted on the walls, some conversation pits scattered around with cushy chairs and couches.

“People actually do their entire deployments on this base?” Riley asked in disbelief, and Jesse gave a derisive snort.

“Yep. Get the same hazard and combat pay as us, too. Such bullshit.”

They each bought a huge serving of burgers and fries, and Jesse felt queasy after, his body not used to such rich, greasy food anymore. Riley was a little subdued, too, and Jesse figured he was feeling as guilty as he did about their brothers back at the outpost who were gagging over cold MREs and washing them down with tepid water.

After dinner they went in search of computers, finding a small Internet café attached to the local coffee bar. Jesse surfed idly as Riley checked his email.

“Oh, shit.” Riley scrolled through something, his face falling. “Well, scratch all those plans.”

“Why? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah.” Riley scrolled back up. “An email from my dad. Apparently he and Carl are headed to Boston this week to meet with caterers, photographers, blah blah blah. He wants me to use his cell if I get a chance to call. Shit.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t have time to let him know I’m on leave. They left yesterday, and they’ll be there for two weeks!”

“Well, fucking go to Boston and surprise him,” Jesse suggested. “They’ll fly us wherever we want, and even if they didn’t, you can afford a ticket, Riles. Your dad will love it, I’m sure.”

“I don’t know.” Riley tilted back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I’d feel weird interrupting them, you know? Carl’s great, but he’s not exactly a go-with-the-flow type of dude. Knowing him, he has every minute of their day scheduled. If I mess that up—”

Jesse gaped at him. “Fuck schedules, your dad will want to see you!” he exclaimed. “His boyfriend will understand that you got slated leave at the last minute and you didn’t have any control over it.”

Riley blew out a breath, grimacing in disgust. “God, this sucks. I wanted to go home, not go to Boston and do stupid shit with them, shit I’ll end up having to do anyway so Carl doesn’t get pissed. My dad will be stuck in the middle, and here I’d be FUBARing their trip and coming between them right before the fucking wedding.”

“Seeing you isn’t gonna FUBAR their trip,” Jesse said firmly.

“And you don’t know Carl,” Riley shot back. “Sometimes I think he’s jealous of me, man, having to share my dad. If it was us at home, no biggie, ’cause I could go out with my friends and drink, get with Tori.” He waggled his eyebrows. “What’s fun to do in fuckin’ Boston?”

“Umm, the Liberty Bell?”

“That’s in Philadelphia, dumbass.” Riley snorted. “But that proves my point exactly. Ain’t nothing fun about Boston, not with those two watching every move I make. Besides, I think it’ll be really hard on my dad to see me and then have to send me back. You know?”

Jesse didn’t agree with that rationalization, but he said, “It’s your dad, you gotta do what you think best.” He paused. “Let’s go somewhere else together, then. Unless you’re secretly sick of my ass, in which case, fuck you.”

Riley dropped his chair flat on the floor, laughing. “Let’s go do something fun. You got any ideas?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Jesse pulled his chair closer to Riley’s, and they huddled together around the computer, making their plans.

The next morning they mustered for roll call, and to their amazement were both on the flight manifest aboard a C-130 that very afternoon to Kuwait and on to Dallas. At DFW they waited on the tarmac while fire trucks came out to ceremoniously hose down the plane, a ritual done for all aircraft carrying soldiers home on mid-tour. As they disembarked and entered the terminal, the civilian passengers in the waiting area gave them a standing ovation, and there was a contingent of USO waiting to shake their hands, give hugs, offering to help with anything they needed.

Riley’s face was beet-red with embarrassment at the attention, but his smile was bright, his handshakes and hugs enthusiastic. They made their way to the Hawaiian Airlines counter and purchased tickets for the next flight to Oahu, the ticket agent bumping them up to first class, no extra charge.

At the gate they endured more clapping, more handshakes, more thanks for their service. It was heartwarming and amazing to feel the support of the public, but by the time they collapsed into their wide, comfy seats in first class, Jesse was worn out. Once the plane was in the air, he put his seat back, more than ready to relax.

“So awesome!” Riley exclaimed, bouncing in his seat as he perused the movie selection. “Now this is living, huh, Jess? I’ve never flown first class before.”

“Me either.”

“We’re gonna have so much fun these next two weeks, man.” Riley couldn’t sit still. “Beach, babes, booze. All the finer things in life.”