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1
Amber
It all started with a letter, just one letter.
My father was a military man, and he was the sort that talked about his twenty years in the military like it was the best part of his life. I think for many reasons, it was. I used to love hearing about all his adventures when he was in the Marines and all the great places that he saw. I knew that one day I would want to, not be in the military, but marry a military man. My mother was a strong woman, and I knew that one day I’d be like her.
With every story that I was told by my father, I was also told about my mother and the hundreds of letters that she wrote to him while he was deployed and how those letters from home, not only kept him from feeling homesick, but he swore that those letters saved him. He had something to look forward to and to keep his mind off things. Dad used to talk about how other men didn’t make it and how he was convinced that it was because they weren’t getting letters like he was. I don’t know if that was true or not, but I liked the sound of it, and it stuck with me for years because of that. I liked the idea that so much could be done with just a few words.
So, I started writing letters. I had toyed with the idea of going into the military myself, but that hadn’t panned out. I still wanted to help a soldier, and I wasn’t any closer to getting married to one, so I wrote to random soldiers. I sent out one letter and got no response. After that, I sent out five and still didn’t get a response. I almost gave up on my letter writing, but I made one last set of ten and sent them out to random soldiers. I had picked up their names from a recruitment office where I knew someone who worked there. I was just trying to help in some small way, bring part of home to the stationed soldiers out in the world.
It took about a month to get a response, and I really didn’t even know what it was when I first saw the envelope. It was from Germany and the handwriting was a bit messy. When I got it open and started to read it, the messiness showed through, and I had to squint or turn the paper this way or that to see what was going on. I tried my best to read the letter, but the writing really was atrocious. Determined, I sat down and took some time to decipher it, but I was elated to get a response.
Frank was a military man that was what he called a ‘lifer’, and I knew exactly what that was. My father was one. He retired from the military after twenty years with full benefits. I’d asked him why he called himself a lifer when he was only in the military for twenty years and not his life and he laughed, telling me that twenty years in the military was a lifetime. He loved it, but it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. I would always wonder what was seen, heard, done. It was like one big adventure, but I could see how many of his stories were likely changed for me.
My first letter I sent out was generic, and I asked whoever wrote back to tell me of their adventures. I got into my father and his career a little bit, and how I missed his stories. I had heard them all by now, so I was looking for new ones. I also knew that it was helpful for them to be shared, so I left an opening for just that. Frank shared and he was not like my father, he didn’t sugarcoat anything. I was grateful for that, but it was also hard to hear how hard things were for him and how his adventures were just a long-term torture that they had to endure.
I thought differently of the military after reading his first letter. Frank was disillusioned now. He was tired of the lifestyle and had several years to go. He was missing his life, wondering what could have been if he had stayed a civilian. I don’t know if I fell for him in that first letter, but I loved writing to him and I was more than happy when Frank was the only response I got. It was worth it.
We would come to know each other through words, increasingly more intimate and at some point, I told Frank everything. I looked forward to his letters, getting some almost every day and wishing for more even then. I found out about his adventures, hopes, dreams, fears. I got all of it and I got it in an unadulterated version that was raw and real. I respected him for being so open. I learned how to open myself up to him as well.
I told Frank Gonzalez things that I’d never told another soul. It was hard to imagine how intimate I was with someone, especially when considering that I didn’t even know him in real life. I’d never talked to him, heard his voice or seen him. I had been sent a picture the first few months that we were talking. I think he wanted to coerce one out of me. I didn’t send one for almost a year. Finally, he asked for a picture of me when it was around Christmas time. Made it like it was the only thing in the world that he wanted. How could I fight him on that? He had manipulated me into the picture, but what happened next, I think, was real. It was quite clear at some point that he wanted to be together.
The picture was an old one and it wasn’t all that great, but Frank had changed from that point on. It went from good friends to something more. I still wasn’t sure what was going on between us, but we talked differently after that. Frank’s questions got more personal and that was how we had gotten so close. The distance made things feel alive and new, even when in-person it would have been less.
When I got home from work one Friday night, I didn’t see any letters in my mailbox. I was bummed immediately and wondered what was going on. I’d gotten a letter pretty much every day that the mail ran for the last several years. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t have one. I wanted to hear from Frank, and it was just one time, but it felt weird.
The next week when I didn’t get one letter from Frank, I started to think that the worst had happened. What else was I supposed to think? It had to be that Frank had been killed or something. There was no way that he would just stop contacting me suddenly.
I tried not to panic too badly. I sent my letters daily like I had for so long. Writing to him with nothing coming back felt like I was writing diary entries and sending them to the ocean in a bottle. I had no idea if he was going to get them or not but sending them seemed so important. I don’t know what had gotten between us. I wanted to talk to Frank. I needed assurances that he was okay, but after two weeks and nothing coming back, I had to put in more energy to find out what had happened.
At first, I thought it would be easy to check on Frank. I knew where he was, had his address, and I thought I had all the information that I needed. I didn’t. Instead, I just had enough to let me know that I didn’t know anything. I had a first and a last name, but there were five soldiers with that name in the military and I had to go through letters for two days to get his middle name. When I had that information, I called back up to find out what was going on with Frank, but I just got a promise to call me back.
It was a round and round situation and I swear it was like I was getting nothing done. Frank told me in his letters that he had a few more years to go, so I knew that he hadn’t just dropped out. No one would give me the information that I was looking for. I had wanted to know where he was and what was going on. I wasn’t worried about much else. When I talked to people in his branch of the military though, I felt strange because they always asked who I was to him. I didn’t want to say that I was just his pen pal, but that is what I was. We’d never met and that was all we were to each other. I felt like we were more, naturally, but that didn’t make it so.
I had about given up on the whole thing. I just couldn’t find Frank, no matter how hard I tried. I wanted to make sure that he was okay, but then I had to just believe it. I would feel differently if something had happened to him. I would know it. I don’t know how I would know it, but it would just be this feeling. I couldn’t imagine him being dead or something horrible like that, and me not being able to know that deep down in my body.
So, I held out hope and tried to get on with my life. I was a photographer with my own business in a small town in Maine. Life was idyllic for most and while the weather was getting colder and winter was coming, I loved this time of year. Everything was changing colors and I loved the way it all looked. It was one of the best times of year and though I was still working to find Frank, I had to enjoy the beauty around me.
I was just getting back from a session with a couple that wanted some anniversary pictures in the park where they met. They were the cutest couple and they put me in a good mood. Charles stared at Gwen like he’d loved her for more than one lifetime. I was feeling some kind of way after meeting them and being around them for as long as I was. I loved love and they were a couple that every woman wanted to be a part of.
Shaking off the sentiment, I made my way home. I took my coat off and settled in for the evening. Since I was tired after the long day, I went ahead and got ready for bed and put my robe on. I had just sat on the couch when there was a knock on it. I hadn’t even gotten to sit down yet and I couldn’t believe that someone was suddenly there. It felt off, but I went to the door to answer it to see what was going on.
I hadn’t seen a picture of Frank in a while, years, but I knew instantly that it was him. He was tall, towering over me and those dark brown eyes were smiling down at me. His skin was darker than in the picture and he was bigger, if that was even a thing. I couldn’t stop looking at him. I hadn’t said anything. I was just standing there like an idiot, looking at Frank and wondering what was going to happen next.
“You’re here. How are you here?” It was all I could get out and damned if he didn’t crack the biggest smile like I’d said the funniest thing.
“You know how you said that we should just meet and see what happens?”
I was speechless and he didn’t wait for an answer. What?! Was Frank here right now? He was just as cute as I thought he would be. He moved into my apartment and all I could do was stare. I couldn’t believe he was here, and I kept thinking, now what?
2
Frank
The look that I got when Amber opened the door was priceless. It had taken a lot to get to this point, but it was all worth it. She moved out of the way so that I could come in, but most of the time for the next five minutes was her staring at me. I was fine with that, it gave me time to look at her, take all that she was in. Amber was exactly like her picture, better somehow, and I wanted to soak it all up.
“I can’t believe you are here.”
