Chapter Fifteen
brENT
The annual squadron Christmas party was always held on a Saturday night in the middle of December. Brent was thrilled to be home for it this year.
He stood tall, ready to show the officer’s club to Clara, especially on a night like this.
He knew the Christmas party would be the perfect way to show squadron life through a different lens.
All she had experienced of the Air Force up to this point had been the sacrifices involved; the hardships of a long separation.
Tonight, Brent was ready to introduce her to the other side. The fun side.
He turned to her with a beaming smile and placed a hand on her back as they walked up the stairs to the entrance of the club. She wore a red satin gown with a high jeweled collar. Her hair was pulled up in a loose twist, soft blonde curls framing her face.
Brent normally hated wearing his military mess dress, accented with the formalness of the bow tie.
The pants were stiff, the jacket short, and the cummerbund ridiculous.
But tonight, he felt good in it. Over his left breast sat a collection of his military accomplishments, including the most recent ribbon earned for his latest deployment.
As they entered, Brent looked up at the soaring cathedral ceiling.
He’d never really noticed the architecture of the club before.
Stately chandeliers descended from wooden beams; dozens of plaques hung in perfect formation with squadron logos and awards from years past; tables were sprinkled throughout the room, each one covered with a white tablecloth and an arrangement of roses.
A Christmas tree towered in the corner, and a four-piece string band played an array of holiday favorites.
“Wow,” Clara said. “I had no idea the officer’s club would be so elegant.”
He nodded, agreeing completely. “Well, you can thank most of the spouses for that. They did all the hard work for this party.” He watched her, his chest swelling as she admired the surroundings. He offered her his arm.
Clara smiled as she took it. “An officer and a gentleman.”
Brent led her to the bar. It was true; he did seem to have an extra confidence about him tonight. Maybe it was the mess dress or the impressive state of the officer’s club. Really, he knew it was from having her there on his arm.
The bartender handed them each a glass of champagne.
Brent gazed around and was struck with an appreciation to be there.
Everything his eye landed on seemed to glow with perfection.
The band started to play “There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays.
” He closed his eyes and pressed the champagne to his smiling lips.
He couldn’t possibly agree with the sentiment more.
The squadron cleaned up nicely, he had to admit, and there was something special about the pomp of a formal military event.
Brent could tell that Clara was impressed with it all, and that made him feel happier than he realized it would.
He wanted her to like this part of his life.
Once they were married, it would become her life too.
“Well, this must be Clara,” said that deep southern drawl Brent had grown so accustomed to over the past year.
He turned around. “Will! Merry Christmas.” He tapped his champagne glass against Will’s beer bottle in greeting and touched Clara on the elbow. “Clara, this is my buddy—and for the past year my roommate—Will.”
Clara shook Will’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Will.”
“You as well. I’ve heard plenty about you already. Trust me.” He gave Brent a playful nudge. “And I’d like you to meet my wife.” Will waved over his wife, who had been talking to someone nearby.
Brent noticed Clara’s face form a tight frown as Will’s wife approached.
Her black dress sparkled, and her lipstick was the brightest shade of red Brent had ever seen.
She bounded over with an enthusiastic grin and introduced herself to Brent with a handshake and a drawl even more honeyed than her husband’s.
Her head tilted with sympathy as she took Clara’s hand into hers, placing her other one on top. “It’s so nice to see you again, Clara,” she said in a hushed tone.
“You too,” Clara said, in barely a whisper.
Brent noticed Clara’s eyes drop to the floor. He hadn’t realized she’d met Will’s wife before, but figured it must have been the day he got home.
“Are you feeling better?” Janie asked her. “You didn’t seem to have your bearings the other day on base.”
Brent’s ears perked up at the mention of her behavior. He met Clara’s gaze for a second before she shifted it away. Everyone was quiet.
“Clara, are you okay?” he finally asked.
Her glance quickly turned back to Janie. “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, of course. I’m fine,” she said. “I think I was just a little nervous about everything. And then it was so shocking. You know, the proposal and all. I guess for a moment I got myself all turned around mentally.”
“Oh, well, that’s completely understandable,” Janie said. “I’ve been there too, when everything feels a bit cattywampus. That’s what we call it in Charleston anyway. It happens to us all.”
Brent shared a look with Will, who nodded at him. “See?” he mouthed. “Adjustment.”
Brent relaxed, knowing Will was right. At least it hadn’t been his imagination.
Clara had acted odd, and other people had noticed it too.
At least he knew why now. She’d said it herself—she had just been nervous.
It made complete sense when he thought about it.
She hadn’t been expecting a proposal on top of the pressure of a long-awaited reunion.
Maybe he should have dropped some hints beforehand instead of springing it on her so suddenly.
Looking at it now, that probably would have been a better plan.
None of that really mattered now, though.
Their relationship was quickly getting back to where it needed to be.
Janie’s mouth popped open as she looked past them.
She waved at someone on the other side of the room, then turned back to them.
“Now, please excuse me, but I’m in charge of running the games tonight.
It looks like they want me to get things started.
” She gave Will a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried off toward the dance floor.
“Well, I believe congratulations are in order for you two,” Will said once it was the three of them.
Brent caught Clara’s eye, and she gave a timid smile back.
Will set his beer on a cocktail table and folded his arms across his chest. “I couldn’t be happier for you both. You two clearly have what it takes to make it in this chaotic military life. And, Clara, I want you to know how much it meant to Brent.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Everything you did for him during the deployment.”
Her eyes popped open, then they shifted to the floor.
“You know, the letters, the gifts, the care packages—they certainly kept his spirits up.”
A silence followed. The band stopped for a moment before starting up again with a jazzy rendition of “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”
Clara appeared to be lost in thought, her focus elsewhere.
Will waited for a response, but she said nothing. He chuckled and picked up his beer again. “I’ve never seen anyone spend so much time on video calls. You two must have set a new record.”
Brent noticed her stiffen. He offered up a nervous laugh, but she remained quiet.
“Not all girlfriends are willing to commit that kind of time to a boyfriend that’s out of sight,” Will continued, oblivious to any awkwardness.
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“Brent knowing that you cared as much as you did, well, it made all the difference in the world for him.”
Brent watched Clara from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but notice the discomfort all over her face. She shifted her weight and moved a stray piece of hair out of the way.
Clara cleared her throat. “That’s nice to hear,” she said. She let out a breath of annoyance that couldn’t be hidden.
“In fact—”
Brent interrupted before Will could go on any longer. “Enough about the deployment. It is a party, after all. Right?” He laughed.
“Okay. Sure,” Will said.
Brent gave him a look of appreciation. He knew he needed to end this conversation; he just wasn’t exactly sure why. He patted Will on the shoulder and took Clara by the hand. “Well, we’re gonna go grab some food. Will, we’ll see you out on the dance floor later?”
“You know it.”
The two men shook hands. Clara looked up to give Will a slight smile before they walked away.
“Come on, those hors d’oeuvres look delicious,” Brent said.
Clara let out an obvious sigh of relief.
He had no idea what was going on in her mind, but he was certain of one thing—she did not want to talk about the deployment. But why? Did thinking about the past year make her sad? Maybe there was an underlying resentment for what she’d endured.
Brent had nothing but fond memories from the past year as far as their relationship was concerned.
Yes, it was hard at times. There were definitely some tough days.
But, overall, he enjoyed thinking back on it to appreciate how much they had gone through—together.
Obviously, Clara didn’t feel the same way.
Maybe she wanted to just forget it had happened.
If that was the case, then maybe they weren’t on the same page at all.
What did that mean for future deployments?
If this one had been so bad she couldn’t even talk about it, would she be willing to go through one again?
Brent felt a quiver in his stomach. No, things were not as they should be.
He had his work cut out for him still. He needed to remind her of the positive things that came out of that year.
He needed her to see how well they knew each other—to understand their connection was stronger than ever.
He needed to prove to her that their relationship then and now was worth everything they had been through.