25. Roman
CHAPTER 25
ROMAN
“Daddy, es ist kalt,” Margot complained in German.
I had to agree with her. Even though it was the end of March, Newport, Rhode Island, was cold. You’d have thought we’d be used to the winter weather after being in Germany for over nine months, but the naval base was right on the water, and the wind coming in off the northern Atlantic was frigid.
“I know, punkin. Do you have your mittens?” I asked, trying to remind her to use English since we were back in the States. It took forever to get her to make the switch, and now she refused to switch back. She’d been speaking in German mostly since the plane landed.
“Ja, Daddy.”
She shoved her hands into her “princess” coat. It was just a heavy, black wool pea coat, but she thought it looked like one Princess Kate wore. Whoever that was. All I knew was that my daughter was growing up to be a clothes hound and something of a fashionista.
She pulled her hands out of her pockets and, balled up in her fists, were a pair of wool gloves with a bow on the back. I squatted down to help her, and I couldn’t believe how grown up she looked.
Mama always dressed her well, but from what I could see, there’d been some extra time taken today. Margot’s hair curled and fell around her shoulders. She wore a red tam on her head that matched the red booties on her feet and the gloves I was helping her slide on. Her little legs stuck out from underneath the black and white checked dress and the pea coat she wore. Cable knit white tights encased her legs, and on any other kid, I’d have laughed, but Margot hated to get dirty when she got dressed up, so I knew they’d be fine unless she fell or got pushed.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I grumbled.
Mama chuckled. “As if you haven’t been chomping at the bit to see the man.”
My gaze flew to hers and then darted around to see if anyone heard her. “Mama, you’ve gotta be quiet. You cannot say things like that. Someone could hear,” I cautioned her.
“Sorry, I’m just so excited to see Georgie and Cal again.”
“Mama, you could always fly back to West Virginia to see your friends. Margot and I would be okay for a few days,” I told her.
I didn’t want her to think we didn’t want or need her or that we didn’t appreciate all she did for the two of us, but with me working at the hospital on a base, even one as busy as Landstuhl, we’d be able to get along on our own. At least for a bit, anyway.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Daddy, is it time to see Carson?”
I sighed in relief when Margot switched to English.
“Yes,” I said as I stood.
Taking her hand in mine, I offered Mama my elbow. “Let’s go.”
Margot walked primly beside me. Mama did as well. They were excited to see Carson again, but outwardly they appeared calm. I only hoped I did as well because inside I was a mess. And I still couldn’t wrap my head around how I got here.
Several weeks ago, I came home from dropping Margot off at school, and Mama was on the phone. Not an uncommon occurrence, so I waved at her and headed upstairs to shower and change. I had some errands to run before I got to lay down, and I wanted to get them handled before I lost all my energy.
I came down the stairs and Mama said, “Hey, we need to take a trip.”
“Where?” I asked. She was always coming up with places for us to take Margot. We’d traveled all over Germany and France.
“Rhode Island.”
I did a double-take not expecting that response. Closing my eyes, I pressed my thumb and forefinger against my eyes, pushing them back into my sockets. I sighed and asked, “What have you done?”
“Done? I’ve done nothing.”
Yeah, right.
“Mama?”
“Fine, I was on that social media website and saw Georgia had posted she and the family were going to Rhode Island in a few weeks.”
“And…”
“I just commented and said I’d always wanted to visit the area. She said they were going for Carson’s graduation and she invited us to attend.”
“What else did you tell her, Mother?”
If she outed me, I will throttle her.
“If you’re worried I said something about your feelings or that you’re gay, I didn’t. I just said we’d love to attend.”
“We’re not going to Rhode Island, Mama. That’s a time for him to celebrate with his family.”
“He was our family not too long ago, and if you grow a pair…”
“Mama!”
“He’ll be our family again.”
“Mama…”
“Don’t Mama me. You know I’m right. Plus, it would be an amazing grand gesture. Kinda like that scene from Officer and a Gentleman .”
“I can’t be Debra Winger because I’m a freaking guy…”
“Watch your mouth,” she chastised.
“You have no room to talk. You literally just talked about me growing a pair. And to finish my thought—he’s not Richard Gere.”
Gere had nothing on Carson but height, and I didn’t care how tall he was.
She huffed and said, “Just think it over.”
As if I’d thought about anything else since she first mentioned it. It was all I thought about. Day and night. In the middle of a trauma. It didn’t matter. Mama had planted the seed, and it didn’t help that she refused to shut up about it. Every time we were in the same room, she asked me about going and what the logistics would be. She even told me what the weather would be like and pointed out we wouldn’t need to purchase anything for wear for Margot because she had a whole new winter wardrobe.
The more she rambled, the further down the rabbit hole I fell. I researched flights and reserved a hotel room, all while telling myself I would offer it up to him as a gift. I remembered what it was like. OCS kicked your ass, and all I wanted to do was fall into bed for a month of Sundays to catch up on my sleep and recuperate.
Then, I booked flights for Mama, Margot, and me.
It doesn’t mean anything. They’re refundable.
After doing so, I went downstairs, and Mama, in her pushy, passive-aggressive way, harped and needled at me until I lost it.
“We’re not going!” I yelled.
“Well then, you might want to cancel the flights and hotel.”
Sighing, I scrubbed both hands over my face while trying and failing to hold in the scream that bubbled up in my throat, threatening to come out. How she knew about the flights and hotel, I had no idea. And to be perfectly honest, I was afraid to ask if she’d violated my privacy any further.
“Before you ask, no, I didn’t snoop. You used the card we share to purchase the tickets, and the bank called to make sure the purchase was legitimate.”
I nodded and sighed, walked away, and came back. Twice.
“Fine, I’ll put in for the time, but I still don’t know if we’re going to Rhode Island. I booked us tickets to Virginia. I figured we could get a rental and check on the house, and if we decide to go, we can drive up.”
“Why can’t you admit you want to see him?”
I bit my tongue, kissed her cheek, and left for work.
Of course, I wanted to see him. I didn’t know if I wanted to see him again in the middle of his graduating class and everyone’s friends and family, not to mention Navy brass.
The longing I had for him refused to be denied. It only worsened the closer I got to laying eyes on him again. I was close to rattling apart because. At any moment, he and his classmates would march down this street, and I’d get to lay eyes on him for the first time in nine months.
“Amelia!”
A voice called out, and Mama answered, “Georgia.”
Mama rushed toward Carson’s mom, and they embraced as if they’d seen each other just the other day and not a decade ago.
“Daddy, wer is diese Dame?”
So much for English.
“We’re back in America, punkin. You need to speak English.”
An Academy Award-winning glower leveled at me from below my hip. I ignored it until Margot planted her feet and huffed.
“Fine. Who is that lady?”
Squatting in front of her, I said, “Yes, but ditch the attitude. There’s no reason to be snarky.”
“Yes, sir. But who is she?”
“That’s Carson’s mama.”
“What’s her name?” Margot asked.
“Georgia, but you’ll call her Mrs. Wilcox unless she tells you differently. Understand?”
A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she nodded. She dropped my hand, marched up next to Mama and Georgia, and stood as patiently as someone Margot’s age was capable of. I hung back, watching to see what she did next.
Cal, Carson’s dad, dropped to a squat next to her, and she looked at him like he had three heads.
“Who are you?” she asked, the disdain in her voice written on her face like a billboard.
I stepped forward to chastise her for being rude when Cal tossed his head back and laughed. Dropping my hands to her shoulders, I gave her a gentle squeeze, and she looked up at me.
“Daddy, is he okay?”
“He will be, punkin. That’s Mr. Wilcox. Carson’s daddy.”
Cal reined himself in and said, “This your little one?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hi, sweetie. I’m Cal.”
“Hi, Mr. Cal. I’m Margot Adrienne Ott,” she said, holding out her tiny little hand.
He grasped her hand but looked up at me, and I knew the secret would be out soon.
“That tracks. You two always were attached at the hip. I’m just surprised you didn’t name her Carson, what with so many parents giving girls boy names and vice versa.”
I smiled, glancing around for something to switch the topic to.
“Is it just the two of you, or is everyone else hiding out somewhere.”
“The boys will be along soon. I hope. They couldn’t be on time to save their lives. You mark my words, they’ll figure out how to be late to their own funerals.”
I laughed. “Some things never change.”
“Right you are. Carson was the only one who could ever be where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be there.”
Over the rumble of the crowd around us, the regimented footsteps of a military unit on the move drifted toward us. My heartbeat fell in line just as the repeating echo of a cadence filled the air.
“Cal, where are the boys?”
“Late as usual, Georgie.”
“I can’t see,” Margot said.
I turned to pick her up, but Cal already had her in his arms. I worried for half a second because Margot took to very few people, but she seemed perfectly content with him, which was good because, as awful as it might sound, I couldn’t keep my focus on anything other than the man marching toward us.
They still weren’t in eyesight yet, but the sound closed in with every passing moment. The cadence they chanted took up residence in my chest, sliding in next to my heart. They synced with one another. That steady rhythm was the only thing keeping me from losing my shit.
“Daddy, you can’t go around picking up random kids. This place ain’t like it is back home. The people here are likely to call the cops on ya.”
I glanced toward the voice. I huffed softly before looking back toward where Carson and his classmates should be coming into view. Trip Wilcox hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I saw him. He was a bit pudgier around the middle, and his face looked a little more weary, but if I squinted in the slightest, he looked just like he did a decade ago.
“Holy shit, Roman?”
“Casey!”
As much as I hated to look away from the horizon, I turned and greeted Carson’s brothers. The exchanges felt stilted, and I didn’t know if it was because of the decade that passed or because I kept glancing over my shoulder on the lookout for Carson.
“There they are!” someone yelled.
One of Carson’s family or someone else in the crowd gathered, waiting for their friends and loved ones, I didn’t know who. I didn’t care. I turned, and sure enough, the class was in sight, marching toward us. From this distance, I couldn’t tell who was who. Carson was average height, and while he was a bit brawnier than most guys his size, he blended into the crowd around him.
Until he didn’t.
He marched toward me. Us. At the front of the formation with his head high and shoulders squared. He looked…
Gorgeous.
Pride filled me. It was stupid. It was his accomplishment, not mine, but I couldn’t help being so flipping proud of him. This kid from some no-name town in West Virginia, with dreams of becoming a Navy SEAL, of doing what so few men have done, and he did it so well he earned a shot at being an officer.
And now he’d done that, too.
The epitome of an overachiever.
Dynamic.
Magnetic.
Just being in his presence set my heart racing.
It ruined me for anyone else.
The formation of new officers paused before us for a brief moment. Carson stood before me in his dress blues. My heart lurched when our eyes met, leaping like a frog as if it was about to jump out of my chest.