“The government had to debrief me. Here, let me help you.” Sherelle adjusted his pillows. “Is that better?”
Lennie closed his eyes and enjoyed the sweet scent flowing through his nostrils. He stared at her when he felt her touch. She patted his feverish hands and forearm with the cold towel. He had two scrapes on his left knuckles; a large purple bruise at the point of the IV on his right hand. Sherelle placed the cold towel on his hand and held it there.
“Thank you,” he said, shivering from the cold. Lennie noticed how the morning light beamed on her skin. A bright aureole surrounded her petite frame, making her look not only beautiful, but angelic. “Tell me something, why aren’t you bolting out the door to your boyfriend?”
Sherelle moved away and stood at the foot of the bed. “I’ve never been in love.” She shuffled her feet a time or two then silently counted tiled squares in the floor.
Startled, Lennie lifted his head. “How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I’ll be twenty-four this month. May twelfth.”
Aah, yes. Born May 12th in Seattle, Washington to Eric and Charlotte Lindsey, Lennie recalled. “Really? That’s in a . . . uh . . .” Lennie shut his eyes and tried to remember today’s date.
“A week and a half.”
“What’s today?”
“May second.”
How long had he been in the hospital? Lennie remembered he left in late April to rescue Sherelle. He peered at his wristband, but he couldn’t read the tiny print. The medicine flowing through his veins made everything fuzzy. When he looked again at Sherelle, his tension eased. Today’s date no longer mattered. Had he pressed the pain button and hadn’t realized it? He felt sedated, either by his medication or this woman’s warm smile. He strained to keep his eyes open so he'd memorize details of her face, the length of her hair, her smile. He desperately wanted to see the color of her eyes.
“You’ve never ever been in love? Are you trying to say there weren’t any available men in Cairo?”
“Daddy taught me that I shouldn’t rely on a man to take care of me. I can do that myself. But to accomplish that, I needed two things—good grades and a profession worth something.”
“Ookay. But what does that have to do with dating and marriage?”
“I didn’t have time to date. Now that I have my Ph.D. I can take care of myself.”
“I see.”
Sherelle felt a lump form in her throat. She took a step forward. “I want you to know, Major Williams, that I am truly sorry. I feel guilty leaving you like this.”
Lennie thought she looked attractive with her head down, struggling with her words, her hand whisking strands of hair away from her face. “Leaving me like what? We've spent enough time together don’t you think?”
“You weren’t good company,” Sherelle teased. “Besides, being by your side didn’t come close to compensating you for putting your life on the line. I’m so sorry, Major Williams. Really, I am. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be back in the air doing what you love.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. If a soldier goes into the field often enough, this is bound to happen.”
“That may be, but I still feel responsible. If there is anything I can do, please tell me.”
“Once you board your flight home, you’ve given me all that I need. Now, get out of here and go home to your family. I’m sure they can’t wait to see you.”
Sherelle headed for the door before she remembered the flowers. “Here. These are for you.” Like a shy schoolgirl, she removed the flowers from the table and laid them on his chest.
From the window, a ray of sunlight brushed her face then disappeared when she moved, but not before Lennie noticed her eyes resembled an early fall morning. Lennie felt trapped in those irises painted in thick heavy strokes of red and brown and gold. His heart skipped a beat.
“What if I have allergies?”
Horrified, Sherelle snatched the flowers and stepped back.
“I’m just kidding.”
Sherelle breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Major Williams, for everything.”
“Lennie. Call me Lennie.”
Sherelle shuffled her heavy feet through the door. On impulse, she returned and kissed him on the cheek.
That one touch changed everything.
Chapter 4
Despite the doctor’s orders to rest, Lennie hadn’t slept. He had too much on his mind. He also had too many interruptions. Nurses disturbed him every hour. Then General Carter spent thirty minutes doling out directives that challenged Lennie's secret plans to return to Special Forces. A premise Lennie still hadn’t fully relinquished. And only one word fit his last interruption: Beautiful.
Thoughts of Sherelle Lindsey relaxed tension in his neck. He remembered how the sun kindly disregarded the scars on her cheeks and indulged him in her warm amber glow. Bangs swept over her forehead in thin layers. Soft, long, black hair puddled on her shoulders. Lennie thought she had the decorous manner of a queen with a choir girl’s innocence hidden behind her eyes.
Her touch changed his body chemistry. His heart of steel and twisted determination to remain celibate fought with her tenderness. Wherever this beauty came from, Lennie hoped she would reappear. He couldn’t resist picturing her in a guest-filled ballroom in a beautiful white gown dancing in his arms. He hated losing his wings. Grind his teeth every time the thought crossed his mind. But if he had to lose his wings, he didn’t mind at all losing them to her.
Melancholy overcame him as the idea of marriage lingered in his thoughts. Ever since he’d given up his right to be a common man, he had one difficulty after another finding the right woman. Where had he gotten the idea to change a sexually-oriented world one man at a time? Angela. Yes, he had Angela to thank for his celibacy.
He readjusted himself in bed and regretted it. He pressed the pain button hoping he would sleep and not think about Sherelle, or Angela, or about marriage and being alone. Just as he dosed off, he heard someone enter the room.
“Heeey, man. How you doing?”
“Harold, I had a feeling I’d see you today,” Lennie said after the familiar voice disrupted his need to sleep.
“I can’t leave my best friend in this depressing place all by himself.”
“It’s good to see you. But I must warn you that I may not be awake much longer.”
“Just took your meds?”
“This pain is kicking me. I’ve never hurt so much in my life.”
“Taking a bullet might be noble, my friend, but it’s painful. When they got you scheduled to get out of here?”
“Tuesday.”
“Take it easy and maybe you’ll get out sooner. Victoria can’t wait to get you to the house.”
“Harold, I’m so sorry for bothering you like this. I promise I’ll call my parents. I tried to explain to General Carter that he didn’t need to call and bother you.”
“Don’t mention it. I don’t fly out for another two months. They gave me extra time off to take care of your rusty butt. All jokes aside, you know we’re happy to have you. Last night I heard Victoria on the phone with the other military wives. They’re planning to pounce on you. So get ready. You’ll definitely have to repair your relationship with the guys when this is over. Jealous husbands will be fuming, no doubt, including me.” Harold winked. “It wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t so good-looking.”
“Why do women make our lives so hard?”
“They’re just having a little fun, that’s all. Women balance us, Lennie. That’s one more reason why you should reconsider dating.”
Lennie shook his head and looked away.
“Okay, what’s on your mind? You seem bothered by something. Are the drugs working?” Harold sat in the same chair General Carter left beside the bed.
A tear puddled in Lennie’s eyes. “I’m out of ’mission. Ca’miss . . . .” Lennie slurred.
“Are you trying t
o say commission?”
Lennie nodded.
“What does that mean?” When Lennie didn’t answer, Harold leaned over him. “Are you saying you can’t fly anymore? C’mon, talk to me, Lennie.”
“My career is over.”
Harold frowned then took a step back. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you think the doctor rushed things a bit? Don’t you have to recover first and wait to see what you can do before the doctor makes a call like that? He’s talking about ending your career, man. He can’t do that! What is he thinking? You need to get a second opinion. Get a second opinion, Lennie.”
Lennie strained his neck and took a deep breath. “Part of my kidney is gone. Even if the doctor gives me clearance, the Army won’t. General Carter practically said so when he was here earlier. I can’t imagine fighting him and going through all the red tape . . .” —Lennie breathed deep before he closed his eyes— “. . . only to have the Army come back and say I can’t fly. It’s bound to be my health or my age.”
“Lennie, you’re twenty-seven. That’s not old. Your age is the least of your worries.” Harold expanded his chest then rubbed his face several times. “Lennie, I had no idea you were dealing with something like this. I heard you were shot, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” Harold collapsed in his chair. “All over a woman. Was she worth it?” Lennie didn’t answer. Harold shook Lennie’s arm. “Lennie?”
Chapter 5
Lennie wrestled with the decision long enough. After eight months, he made a call to General Carter and they agreed the counterintelligence position in Washington, D.C. fit him perfect. Lennie hated the idea of a desk job, but he needed to move forward. He hoped it might help him recoup connections with his friends.
But seeing his buddies with their families rekindled desires to find a love of his own. Lately, he’d acquired a particular fondness for the children. Seeing the small creatures took him back to days when he and his six brothers were kids. He saw himself, a tiny tot with small hands, trying to help repair wheels on a go-cart they had made from scrap wood. Lennie massaged his thumb as he remembered how it hurt every time he tried to shoot marbles in the school yard during recess. To dismiss memories of their large Thanksgiving dinners and happy Christmas mornings would be akin to cutting out a part of his heart. With his family scattered throughout different parts of the world, Lennie didn’t even have a dog to keep him company.
He rented an apartment on 6th and M, blocks from the White House. Harold and Victoria helped him settle in, pestering him the entire time to find a steady girlfriend. They accused him more than once of brooding over Angela, but quick to add Angela had played no viable role in his life. “All she wants to do is shop and cling to the rich and famous. Too materialistic,” Harold had said. Victoria had less kind things to say. “I’d like to be in a room alone with her. I promise she’d come out a lady, Lennie. I’d have her waiting on you hand and foot in no time.” The perturbed look on Victoria’s face convinced Lennie she would use her own military tactics to persuade Angela of her hollow and deceitful ways.
On more than one occasion, he expressed a need for more time to consider dating. He had no opposition to the chase, but he knew weeding the lemons from that one good apple took an enormous amount of fortitude. Dinner invitations to Harold and Victoria’s ranch produced blind dates anyway. Reluctant, Lennie took the beauties to a movie or to military dinners, but he never phoned after the third date. To escape trappings of lust, beauty, and dreadful, lonely weekends, he removed the dusty cover from his silver and black motorcycle and road the hills of Virginia where he camped and mused at the stars.
###
Sherelle had a host of job opportunities in Seattle. After numerous celebrations at high profile political venues—dinner with Faye Bonner, one of Washington’s U.S. Representatives; dedication ceremonies; participation in the Christmas parade; several paid television interviews—she just needed to choose one. Instead of pursuing an editor’s position, Sherelle accepted a job at the library where she relaxed in peace and solitude. She welcomed the relief—no photo ops, no interviews, no questions about the rescue.
Nine months later one phone call changed her life.
“What? Where? Mr. Osborne, I don’t understand. You’re offering me—what?” Sherelle asked, squeezing the telephone until her hand cramped.
“As executive editor, I’m offering you a copy editor’s position and opportunities to work alongside our foreign affairs editor with The Nation’s News in downtown D.C.,” Randall Osborne said. “There’s plenty of room for advancement. After your harrowing experience in Egypt, I have no doubt you’ll be an asset to our foreign affairs editor. Why don’t you come join our team? We’d love to have you.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Pack your bags and come explore Washington. We really want to work with you.”
“Can you tell me why there’s an opening?”
“My foreign affairs journalist took a job with one of our competitors. After moving some people around to fill his spot, we have a copy editor’s position open. Look, we’re not a huge company, but we’re growing. I think with you added to our team, we can’t help but make it to the top. It’s one of the reasons why I took time out to personally call you. I think you can add a lot of value to our team. In other words, Ms. Lindsey, I’m trying my best to snatch you up before some big-wig out there comes along and hires you. It’s not often a company of our size can grab someone that’s been at the top of their class for the past four years. So, what do you say? Will you come work for us?”
“Yes. Yes. Of course. When do I need to be there?”
“In three days.”
“But I have no place to stay.”
“My assistant will call you this evening. Give her your e-mail and she’ll forward you an apartment listing and any other particulars you might need.”
“Thank you, Mr. Osborne. I appreciate it.” Long after the dial tone sounded, Sherelle stared at the phone.
“Who was that?” Eric asked.
“Dad, that was The Nation’s News. I’ve got a job as an editor.” Sherelle looked at her father with tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe it.”
Eric held his daughter close. His emotions soared then plummeted. Only home nine months, he hated to lose her again. “When you get there, the first thing I want you to do is make sure you get your retirement fund started. Okay? That’s important.”
“I remember, daddy.”
“Okay then.” Eric patted his daughter on the shoulder. “Now let’s track your mother down and go out and celebrate.”
“Dad, I want the three of us to relish this one at home.” Sherelle pressed her palms against her cheeks. “I’ve got to pack,” she said in a whisk of excitement. “Where’s mom?”
“She went to the store. Remember to give your notice to the library,” he reminded her.
“Do you think they’ll be mad at me for not giving them two weeks’ notice?”
“When do you report for work?”
“In three days.”
Eric let out a deep sigh. “That’s quick,” he whispered in disbelief. He cleared his throat. “Sherelle, I don’t think a soul will be mad at you for that. Even so, what on earth can they do? If you worked the next two weeks, there’s no way you’d be able to keep your mind on anything but Washington. They might as well let you go. Look at it this way, if they get too upset, I’ll work in your place.” They laughed. “Tell me, what can I do to help?”
# # #
The hectic move to Washington, D.C. frightened Sherelle. No family, no friends, and only moments ago she’d signed a year’s lease on an apartment she hadn’t seen until now. During a twenty-minute phone call two days ago, she’d put her life in a tailspin by making the decision to move from one end of the country to the other.
Sherelle sat her bags inside her new studio apartment then gazed at the combined bedroom-kitchen area. The rooms smelled of fresh paint. Its cream walls a
nd white wood trim reminded her of a hospital emergency room. She thought of Major Williams. Had his wounds healed? Sherelle shook the thought.
She noticed the maple hardwood floors, nice granite countertops, and spacious maple cabinets that made up for the small bedroom and tiny bath. To the right of the kitchen, black wrought-iron encased a four-by-four cement slab that served as a patio.
She didn’t have a bed. No table and chairs for the tiny dining area. Sherelle breathed deep. Minor details, she told herself.
Her mom, the smart one in the family, insisted Sherelle pack an iron. Though she didn’t need one, her father pressed her to rent a car. She refused. Without a rental, she’d force herself to learn train routes.
Sherelle turned on the faucet and let water run until she saw steam then she shut it off. She opened her bags and tried to decide what she’d wear for her first day on the job. Sherelle chose the color first. Gray. After pulling out a gray pantsuit and a dark blue cowl neck blouse, Sherelle placed a beautiful fake sapphire choker and navy blue heels next to them.
After ironing her clothes on the kitchen counter, she showered. Ready for bed, she stood in the middle of the floor eyeing separate piles of pajamas and underwear, sweaters and blouses, skirts and pants, and a bare floor. No mattress. No television. Not even a wall clock.
First thing tomorrow, she’d buy a bed.
Chapter 6
Within weeks Sherelle learned to weave through Washington, D.C.’s train stations and pedestrian corridors with ease. Months later, at The Nation’s News, she moved from copy editor to assignment editor, bypassing the customary two-year wait for a promotion. Because of intense protests in Egypt and her terrifying experience there, her boss and executive editor, Randall Osborne, encouraged more of her involvement in the foreign affairs area.
By mid-July, he teamed her with David Schiffer to operate the managing editor’s desk while Vivian Cassius recovered from breast surgery. Rumors spread that the White House press secretary had decided to resign at the end of the year. All of Washington expected the president to choose Vivian as his next press secretary. If he did, Sherelle thought she might have a shot at Vivian’s position.
Before long, Sherelle worked weekends and ate on the run. Due to mounting pressures of working two positions and Randall Osborne’s hesitancy to hire additional staff, Sherelle’s days stretched from eight hours to twelve. She skipped meals. Many evenings she couldn’t stay awake long enough to wait on pizza deliveries.