24. Declan
24
DECLAN
T he time after boxing up all the things I could stuff in the care package I sent to Hayden dragged on for ages. After getting his contact info from Lincoln, I debated just emailing the man, but I wanted to do something special for him. Plus, I didn’t want to look stalkery. The care package was bad enough, but I worried that dropping into his email that could be read by his superiors, DOD, NSA, and anyone else in the government’s alphabet soup would be pushing the bar.
I still didn’t know if I got it all right. I second-guessed myself so many times and double-checked all the lists with the dos and don’ts of what to and not to mail a deployed service member. He had socks galore, underwear, undershirts, beef jerky, nuts, Heidi’s double chocolate chip cookies, plus a sewing kit. I even racked my brain trying to remember his brand of razors, shaving cream, shampoo, and deodorant. I grabbed what I could remember and what I couldn’t, I substituted. Then, I added drink packets, flip-flops, lip balm, and sunscreen. You name it, if it was on any list online, I bought it and shoved it in the box.
Then, there was something every blog, message board, and social media group recommended but something I didn’t have. Photographs. There was one on my phone. I didn’t even know when we took it, but it was sometime while we were in the club in Vegas. That grainy photo sparked an idea.
I grabbed my laptop, pulled up the number for the marriage license office, and made a call.
“Marriage License Bureau.”
“Hello, my name is Declan Holt. My husband and I got married in Vegas several weeks ago, and I need to contact the wedding chapel, but I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the place.”
Mentioning I was too drunk to remember I got married didn’t seem pertinent.
“What’s your husband’s name?”
“Hayden Marin.”
Computer keys clacked in the dead air, and then the lady said, “Love Me Tender Chapel of Love.”
I groaned at the ridiculousness of the name. The only thing I could think of that would be worse was Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love. I thanked the lady and searched for the chapel’s number.
“Love Me Tender.”
“Hello, my husband and I were married there several weeks ago, and I was wondering if you took photos?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fabulous. Is there any way I could get the digital files sent to me?”
“Absolutely. There is a fee.”
“I’ll pay it.”
Moments and several hundred dollars charged to my credit card later, and the photos and the video of the wedding were in my inbox. They weren’t great, but they were better than nothing, and everything said to include them. I printed out the couple where we didn’t look utterly trashed and added a couple of me.
I’d never felt so ridiculous in my life. Every negative thing I could think crossed my brain as I held the photos in my hand as I stood over the box. Hell, the thoughts were still running through my head now, and I mailed that damn package weeks ago.
Just like I had the day I put those photos in the sappy ass “missing you” card I tucked in the box next to an even sappier handwritten letter, I shoved aside the negative thoughts and self-doubt. While I didn’t know if they’d end up at the bottom of the ocean or not, I wanted him to know I was thinking of him.
A fucking lot.
Like all the damn time.
The man had invaded my psyche, and I couldn’t escape his presence.
Not that I wanted to, but if I was going to be hounded by him, I’d prefer it be the live-action version and not the ethereal one. I wanted him all up in my business, pushing me as hard as I would let him and nudging me an inch further out of my comfort zone.
Dammit. I wanted my Papi back.
I still didn’t know how the fuck we would figure this shit out. I only knew that his being away gave me time to think, which was a double-edged sword. It gave me the chance to come to terms with the man I was with him, which was so fucking different than who I was with anyone else. Ever. With him, I wanted to hand over control and let him take care of me. I’d never wanted anyone to take care of me. Mama and Daddy always said I was in such a hurry to grow up and so damn determined to take care of myself that they hadn’t known what to do with me.
“Hey kid, you doing okay?”
Walker’s voice pulled me out of my head. Looking up at him, I said, “Same as every other day.”
“So confused, lonely, and horny.”
“Damn, old man, what are you doing thinking about me that way?” I jokingly asked him.
“Defensive? That’s never been a good deflector during an interrogation.”
“So, now I’m being interrogated?”
“Hmm. One would think my old man would’ve trained you up better than to answer a question with a question?”
I swallowed the growl that built in my throat and glared at him when his head fell back as he burst out laughing at me.
I stood up and headed out the door, stopping when my phone buzzed in my pocket. My heart hit my feet before bouncing up into my throat. I grappled for something to keep me upright. I couldn’t believe it. He’d emailed me. Which meant he got the package.
“Declan? You okay?”
The owner of the voice didn’t even register as I rushed out of the living room to the bedroom. At the door, someone grabbed me from behind. I spun, fists up, my phone clutched in one of them.
Walker stood with his hands in the air. “Hey! It’s just me.”
I sighed and lowered my hands.
“Now that I know you’re not going to take my head off, what’s wrong?”
I shook my phone. “He got the box. He emailed.”
Walker’s face split into a smile. “That’s good. So why the crazy act?”
“What if…”
“Turn that shit off. If he didn’t want to hear from you, he wouldn’t have emailed. My guess is he’s been kicking his ass since he stepped on that plane because he didn’t make sure you knew how to get in touch with him.”
“How…”
“Cause I did the same damn thing with Lillian when she and I first met.”
I nodded, then tipped my head to the bedroom. “I’m gonna…”
“You do you, but I wanted to let you know that Uncle Marcus called me. I let it roll to voicemail, but I thought I should give you a heads-up.”
Holy motherfucking shit balls, this was bad.
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“No. You know how he is. He just said, ‘Call me sooner better than later.’”
Yeah, that was Daddy. He only said it that way when he had a bone to pick with you.
“Thanks, I’ll… fuck,” I growled, rubbing my hand over my face and into my hair, giving it a tug.
“Yeah. That about sums it up.”
“Do you think he knows?”
“What do you think? The man has a knack for knowing shit.”
“Yeah. I’ll figure it out, but I appreciate the heads-up.”
I walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. My ass dropped on the foot of the bed, and I fell back. Mama and Daddy being Mama and Daddy were the last thing I needed right now. It would be different if Hayden were in the country. I’d prepare him for the craziness that was Ellen and Marcus Holt and invite them out here so we could be done with it, but he wasn’t. I would need to handle this on my own.
But first, I had an email to read. I took a deep breath and opened the email.
From: Marin, Hayden
To: Holt, Declan
Subject: Hello, stranger.
Or maybe I should have said, hello, husband. Either way, I’m damn glad you found a way to contact me. I apologize for not making sure you knew how to go about it. As for the worry that jumped off the pages of your letter and punched me right in the face, toss that shit in the trash. You have no reason to worry I don’t want to hear from you.
Let’s talk about the box I found that letter tucked in. I’m not sure how you managed to get all that shit in there, but damn, vato. You knocked it outta the park. Thank you. I’ve never gotten a care package before.
Never.
BTW, are there any socks left in California? There were more pairs of socks in that box than I could possibly wear on this cruise, so Priest, Cameron, and Scott said to say thanks.
The jerky was amazing. I didn’t realize it came in so many varieties. Who knew there was a market for dried alligator, rattlesnake, and ostrich meat? I won’t even discuss some of the other varieties. That was just odd. It didn’t go to waste, though. We had a taste test in the NCO office trying to name the flavors. That was the funniest shit. I think some of the guys got it on video. I’ll have to ask.
Would you like to watch it? You might have to wait until I get to port. Fuck knows when that will be. If you don’t wanna watch it that’s fine. It probably seems stupid to everyone else, but contests and games are how we pass the time onboard.
Otherwise, it’s pretty boring on the ship. Other than the care package to end all care packages showing up and the jerky contest, it’s just been a lot of training. I’m so tired of following Cameron’s ass around deck. I know it’s muscle memory and what’s needed to make us a cohesive unit but damn, I’d like some leave time and to see something other than water in every direction.
I don’t have much time left on break before I have to get back, but again, thank you.
I think this is the part where I’m supposed to say something sweet and sappy. I think we both know I’m not that guy. I don’t think you are either. Although the letter you sent was edging into that AO. That’s area of operations for the non-military folk like yourself.
So… something sweet. I miss you. Is that strange? We knew one another for ten days before I shipped out. Oh well, if it is, so be it. I mean, who else would I be strangely sweet to besides my husband?
Now for the sappy something or other. I think about you constantly. Well, not really. I do have a fairly dangerous job. People do shoot at me on occasion, so I gotta focus when the time calls for it. I don’t wanna come home with any extra holes in my ass. But the minute the warrior powers down, be it a minute between training run-throughs or when everything is said and done for the day, you’re there. It’s strange. I seem to say that a lot about you. But it’s also reassuring to know, even when I’m floating around earth’s bathtub, that you’re with me. I never would’ve said deployments were lonely. Other than my dad, I don’t have anyone at home to miss, and dad and I, while we’re close, neither of us are good at staying in touch, so this has been… odd, I guess you could say.
Look at that. I didn’t call you strange. You should be proud. I’m expanding my vocabulary.
Take care, carin?. Thanks again for the care package. I was the envy of the ship. Oh, btw, I didn’t know you could bake?
Hope to see you soon,
Papi ;)
I dashed tears from my cheeks at the sappiness, but I couldn’t get rid of the grin that stretched my face so much my cheeks hurt.
I hit reply and fell into my own vat of sappy bullshit. I couldn’t wait to see my man. In the meantime, I’d fill his email on the daily.