Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
BYRON
She sent me cookies.
I’d expected the letter; she was required to write it, after all. But I hadn’t expected an actual care package from Livvy. It was the first time the other guys had ever been jealous of me.
I wasn’t sure if she’d purposely sent enough that I could share freely with the squad, or if she just happened to bake in massive quantities all the time. Either way, we were all grateful for the treats.
“This girl is a keeper,” Carlos insisted around a mouthful of chocolate chunk. “These taste like they were baked by an angel.”
“Your mom makes great cookies,” I insisted, remembering all the times he’d shared his mother’s confections with us in the past. Though I had to silently admit that they didn’t come close to Livvy’s treats.
“Not like this,” Tony argued, saluting Carlos with his own cookie. “No one bakes like this.”
“Must be made with love then,” Roger Davies called from his bed.
“My mommy loves me best of all her babies,” Carlos argued, tossing a book across the room and hitting Roger in the stomach.
Roger launched it back, shouting something unrepeatable about vaginas versus clown cars, and I could see Carlos thinking about throwing punches.
“Shut it!” I yelled, rolling my eyes. “You want drills tonight?”
Silence fell fast and hard. I knew they were getting restless. We all were. It had been quiet for weeks. Too quiet. The kind that makes you think there was something big coming. A calm before a storm. But we had no intel beyond base camp, and all we could do was stay vigilant and try not to let petty shit break us down.
“Sorry, Dad,” one of the guys muttered under his breath. It was enough to break the tension, and we all laughed.
“So, what does Angel Bakes say in her letter?” Tony asked, dropping onto my bed next to me. “Or is it private?”
“It is,” I said, surprise in my tone. “Not dirty, just…I don’t want to share.”
“That’s good,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you’ve got someone.”
“It’s a letter.” I rolled my eyes and knocked my shoulder against his. “From a complete stranger.”
“A stranger that sends cookies is not a stranger,” he insisted. “That’s family, bro.”
Family.
Huh.
The guys were like my family. A roomful of little brothers who barely listened to me unless there was gunfire around us.
Livvy didn’t feel like that. Something about her letters felt far more personal. Intimate.
I liked her. And I had no idea what to do with that feeling.
She’d asked me in this letter if I had a girlfriend. She said it was because she didn’t want anyone to be jealous. But part of me wondered if it was more than that. I’d wondered about her a lot since her first letter. Did she think about me?
“You should ask her for a photo,” Tony said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I blinked at him. “Why?”
“Because I’ve known you for almost eight years, and I’ve never seen that look on your face before. You’re sweet on her.”
“She writes me letters and bakes me cookies,” I reminded him. “You’d have proposed by now.”
“Let’s not bring my love life into this,” Tony said, chuckling. “Four broken engagements in two years isn’t even a record in this room.”
We both looked over at Roger, who’d settled back into his bed and was flipping through a magazine, oblivious to the world around him once more.
“Why is everyone in this room so bad at relationships?” I asked.
“Because this is all we actually know what to do.” Tony shrugged. “We shoot, we run, we fight and we don’t take shit from anyone. Not even the women we should.” Tony sighed. “Write her back. Ask for a photo. And…tell her something personal. Bitches love that.”
“Go away.”
He laughed as he stood, clapping me on the back before heading off. I took Livvy’s letter and shut myself in my office to respond, completely unsure what I was going to say to her.
Livvy,
The cookies were a huge hit here. Thank you so much. I’ve never had a cookie that was so good in my life. If you’d have asked before I ate those what my favorite cookies were, I’d have insisted oatmeal raisin. Now that I’ve tasted these, I will never let a different cookie touch my lips again.
You asked about my favorite music. I’m not sure, honestly. I’ve never really thought about it. Maybe, I could just borrow your love of the 80s for now? Not that I’d be caught voguing in the barracks or anything. But I can be Hungry Like the Wolf with the best of them.
I want to assure you that I don’t have a girl. In fact, I’ve never had a girlfriend in my life, so no worries of any misplaced jealousy. Should I reciprocate the question? I know that if I had a girl, and she baked cookies for some dude, I’d be a little worried. Should I be concerned that one day a man will burst in here to demand his baked goods back? Let me know. And if there is, remind him that I have a gun.
That sounds more like something a stalker would say, lol. Please don’t stop writing. I find myself already eager for your response to this letter.
Speaking of, I’d be honored if you’d enclose a photo with your next letter to me. Especially if it does end up being your last. I know that will conclude your class project, so I certainly don’t expect you to continue writing to me if you don’t want to. Though…I hope you do.
I hope it doesn’t sound too forward of me, but I’m enjoying getting to know you this way. It gives me something to look forward to in my days that are full of sand and loneliness.
Ugh. Now, I’m getting sappy so I’ll sign off here. I do hope you’ll send me a picture. I try to imagine you, but all I ever see in my mind is a wide smile and bright eyes. Who knows if either of those are accurate. It’s just a feeling that I get from the way you write.
Until next time,
Byron
I sealed the letter, not letting myself reread it in case I chickened out. I’d been honest with her, and that’s what I wanted. Two letters in, and already she felt so special to me. If we were going to become friends, we would do so without filter.
And if we didn’t, if she had a boyfriend and really was just a friendly, chatty girl about to complete a project, then that was fine, too. I would take what I could get.