Searching for Tomorrow (Tomorrows) (20 page)

“
I guess I just don’t understand why you’re so adamant that I move back home. No, not home. Back in with my parents. This is our home now.” Leaning back against him, I dropped my head to his shoulder and sighed. “Besides, we just got here. I really wanna make this house a home for us, and I can’t do that if I’m somewhere else. If I get lonely or scared, I promise you that I’ll go back.”

“Okay, I’ll let it go for now, but only because I’ve got better things to do.
” He lifted my chin so that I was looking up, pressed a soft kiss to my lips, and whispered, “I’m going to miss you so much, and I just don’t want to spend the next four months worrying about you. I’d much rather spend it remembering things like this.”

“Things like what, baby?” I leaned up, meeting him halfway. What started as soft
and sweet quickly changed to heated passion.

Standing to his feet without breaking the kiss, Tripp carried me down the hall to the bedroom. As he closed the door behind us, he whispered, “Things like this.”

When Tripp left for Basic Training, I somehow managed to keep from completely falling apart. I wouldn’t dare lie and say that I didn’t cry, because my eyes were raw for days. Because we had made the most of those four weeks together, I had some amazing memories to reflect on while he was gone. I spent a lot of time in our house painting the kitchen and bedrooms, and Daddy taught me how to lay tile in the bathrooms. The best part was the renovations we did to the master bedroom. Dad and Liam managed to take a tiny bedroom and convert it into a small master bath, and a huge walk-in closet.

I spent a lot of time in that closet, neatly folding Tripp’s
jeans, and hanging his shirts. When I was in there, it was almost as if he was with me. His clothes carried his clean smell that reminded me of the forest after a rain shower, and if I closed my eyes, I could imagine he was right in front of me. I took to wearing his t-shirts so that I could carry his scent with me everywhere.

Phone calls were rare, so we resorted to writing letters to each other.
I’d never been much of a writer, but every day, without fail, I made the trip to the post office to drop off a note or postcard. Once a week, Mom and I baked goodies and treats, and carefully packaged them so the cookies wouldn’t crumble. We made sure to make enough for Tripp to share, and when he told us that some of the guys never got mail, we started personalizing some of the packages. I learned in one letter that his Drill Sergeant fell in love with Momma’s homemade butter brickle, so we made sure to include that each week.

What I looked forward to the most were the letters from Tripp.
He didn’t write as often as I did, but he had a lot more going on. When he did have the time to write, I would get pages filled with his rushed scrawl, and I would read each missive over and over. Daddy built me a little wooden chest to keep the letters in, and as I filled that box, it became my most valued treasure.

Tripp wrote
about different parts of his training, and complained about how the hot sun made the outdoor drills even more difficult. I learned the names of the men that he spent all his time with, and even the names of some of the wives and girlfriends. When it was time for him to graduate, I had almost mastered the alphabet soup part, and no longer had to ask every time what SFC (Sergeant First Class), PX (Post Exchange), or SFQC (Special Forces Qualification Course) meant. Every word of every letter brought me one-step closer to being in his arms.

A few days before graduation, Tripp found out that he’
d been accepted into Army Airborne School (ABN). This meant that we would only have a few days together before those classes began. After that three-week program, he hoped to qualify for the Ranger Indoctrination Program. This phase could take up to a year to complete. The best part, though, was that all of these training programs were at Fort Benning in Georgia. Because we knew he would be stationed at one location for a while, when I came for graduation, I wouldn’t have to leave. I had found a small apartment to sub-lease in Columbus, the city that surrounds the post, so that Tripp and I could spend what little free time he had together. The pieces of our puzzle were slowly being put back into place, and I was excited to finally be reunited with my other half.

Graduation morning dawned bright and beautiful, and the crispness to the air
reminded me that Thanksgiving and Christmas were just around the corner. The whole Broun family, along with Nana and Papa, came down a few days early to help me get settled in the apartment, and they would all be leaving after the ceremonies so that Tripp and I could have some alone time. Not surprising, but still confusing, Mrs. Tidwell failed to even acknowledge Tripp’s leaving, much less his graduation. I was ashamed to admit it, but I felt relieved that she’d failed, once again, to show up in support of Tripp.

What seemed to be a sea of soldiers marched crisply along the field, their moves so perfectly synchronized that it became difficult to tell where one person began and the other ended.
This was visual proof of the discipline, and long, arduous training that each one had undergone. My eyes searched frantically over the swell of bodies, seeking out my soldier, my Private, and when I finally spotted him, nothing could force me to look elsewhere. I drank in the sight of him, and trembled with the excitement that I would soon be in his arms once again. The ceremony passed like a blur, and before my brain could catch up with my heart, I was rushing across the field, straight to my haven. When his arms wrapped around me, and his lips pressed to mine, time stopped and everything faded to the background.
THIS feels like home.

When the others reached us on the field,
Liam joked about needing a crowbar to pry us apart. After breaking the kiss, Tripp turned to greet our family with his arm firmly clenched around my waist. Ever my attentive love, he would stop midsentence to stroke my face, drop kisses on my lips, or pull me into his arms for a quick embrace, and then continue speaking as if uninterrupted. His hands never stopped caressing, as if they needed to reacquaint themselves. Oh, how I’d missed his touch, his smell, his warmth. He was mine exclusively for a few more days, but this time, distance wouldn’t separate us.

Dad’s suggestion that we all go out to eat produced an audible groan from Tripp. Dad just
chuckled, slapped him on the back, and promised that everyone would leave us alone after we ate. He gently reminded us that there were others outside our little bubble that loved Tripp and missed him, and we would have our time soon. When he put it that way, it should have made it easier, but I pouted and told him that I was greedy and wanted my man all to myself. This brought laughter, and while they understood what I meant, it still brought us no reprieve.

“Babe, you can share me for another
hour,” whispered the voice I heard so many times in my dreams. “After that, I’ll show you who the greedy one is. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish here, and I’ve got plans for you.”

Have mercy, I melted on the spot, but Tripp’s silky words did the trick. “Let’s go,”
I said, just a little too quickly as a slow blush spread over my cheeks. As laughter broke out around us, I beamed a bright smile, and started pulling Tripp towards the car. The others, amused by my eagerness, simply followed us through the crowd.

Tripp refused to leave my side
for even one second. On the short ride to the restaurant, he cradled me on his lap, his hands constantly moving, caressing my face, rubbing my back, or running through my hair. His eyes gazed into mine, and love shimmered brightly on the surface, but barely restrained passion smoldered beneath. I knew that look, understood that look, craved that look.
Soon my love. Soon.

W
hen we arrived at the restaurant, we once again faced a sea of camouflage. This buffet-style café catered to the local military, and was one of the few places that had enough space in the dining area to seat a crowd this size. Everywhere I looked, I saw a soldier being hugged or kissed. Some were meeting their infants for the first time. A lot of the tears being shed were happy tears, but those who’d experienced loss while they were away were surrounded by a grief that was profound. Basic training, while hard on the family, was especially difficult for the soldiers who were isolated, while life back home carried on without them.

People stopped by our table,
either to wish Tripp good luck in his training, or to introduce themselves to our family and to welcome me to Fort Benning. It would be impossible to remember all the names and faces, but I was able to meet a couple of wives that were also living here.

Private
Randy Underwood introduced me to his wife Lori. Her beautiful dark red hair hung in loose curls down her back, her deep blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and her bright smile welcomed me. Her warm personality and quick laugh drew me in, but what made me think that she and I would be friends was the easy way she accepted me with a hug. Like me, she had just moved here this past week when she’d found out her husband had been accepted into ABN. Having come without family, she had already spent time exploring the town, and had met up with some of the wives for coffee. When Lori tried to drag me away to meet some of the others, Tripp very politely told her that he wasn’t letting me leave his side for at least three days. As I blushed, Lori just laughed and said she’d be right back.

When I turned back to Tripp, he laid
a finger on my lips. “Babe, I told you that I wasn’t letting you go until I have to. I’ve missed you too much over these last four months to let you walk away for a minute. These next three days will be gone in a blink.”

I nipped his finger with my teeth and said, “Silly, I was going to thank you. Do I want to meet other wives?
Sure, I do, but I will have plenty of time to socialize when you’re in school. Besides, I have a feeling that today is the start of a wonderful friendship with Lori. She’ll still be here in three days.” As I reached up to whisper in his ear, Lori came back with another Army wife for me to meet. I turned and settled myself into Tripp’s arms.

“
Wrynn, this is Tiffany Craig. She just moved here last week, too. Her husband Marcus will be in Airborne school with our men.” I turned my head, and looked up, and then up some more. Standing before me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had to be at least six foot tall, and I would have felt uncomfortable, but the warmth and compassion that filled her deep brown eyes immediately put me at ease.

“Hi
, Wrynn. It’s so nice to meet you.” Her voice washed over me as if it were a soothing melody. Her presence felt so calming, and my gut instincts told me that I needed to have her as a friend. “I don’t want to interrupt your time with your family, but I’d really love to get together in a few days. I’ve written my number down, and I hope you’ll use it.”

When I looked
down towards her outstretched hand, I noticed the piece of paper she was holding. As I reached to take it, she folded my hand between hers and squeezed, her tranquil spirit working to relax my remaining nerves. “I’m so glad to meet you, Tiffany, and I look forward to getting to know you better. I promise that I will call both you and Lori when our guys start training.”

“Great, I’ll ta
lk to you soon.” She turned, taking Lori by the elbow, and they walked away.

“I’m really glad you’ve met a couple of wives. I’ll feel better knowing that you’re not alone all the time.”
Tripp’s low rumble was right at my ear. With a whisper, he added, “Do you think our hour is up yet?”

With a laugh, I turned
back to face him. “That’s exactly what I was about to ask you when they came over. Let’s go find our family, say our goodbyes, and run away from the world for a few days.” And that’s what we did.