Author's Notes: Most of this was written before season nine. Therefore,
several things have not been factored in (namely Sturgis' new attitude and
Jimmy Kirk Roberts). Thank you for understanding.
AN2: Morgan is about 18 when this starts.
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It was my first week on the job, working as a shelver/bag girl at a grocery store in Arlington, VA. I had been stacking soup cans in a display near the door when I noticed a boy, probably about 12 or 13, wander in. My boss had told me to watch out for kids (especially boys) around that age; shoplifting or some such thing. The boy glanced around, like he was looking for something, and I decided to take action. I walked up to him and asked if he needed anything. He looked at me with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen and spoke so politely and clearly it nearly knocked me off my feet.
"I was just looking for your flower section. Could you point me in the right direction, please?"
"Uhh, flowers? Um, they're right over, over there. In aisle one." I could barely speak. The kid was so...nice. I had never met a twelve-year-old like him. As he thanked me and walked away, I noticed a deep sadness in his eyes, a sadness that shouldn't be in a kid's eyes. He was, otherwise, a normal looking kid. He had dark brown hair and dusky skin. He was slightly on the tall side of medium, probably around 5' 10". He seemed very mature for his age though, like something had forced him to grow up too fast. I decided to follow him, abandoning the soup display and trying to be invisible. He went straight to the flowers, examining the roses carefully. He picked two perfect white roses, and turned around. I grinned sheepishly, embarrassed at having been caught. He smiled back, as if he understood, and it was the most incredible smile I had ever seen. I stared like an idiot at him for a few seconds, before coming to my senses and asking if he needed any more help.
"No, thanks. I've got everything." Once again, the politeness caught me off guard. I had to find out more about this kid.
"Okay, then. I, uh, I guess I'll be seeing you?" What? What was that supposed to mean? Sometimes I say the stupidest things. He looked at me curiously, then smiled again (wow, what a smile) and nodded. I went back to my soup cans and he went to the checkout line. I watched as he laid the roses carefully on the conveyor belt and dug in his pockets for the money. The cashier, chewing gum and looking immensely bored, rattled off the price. The boy's face fell. He dug in his pockets again, a little deeper, more desperately. I sensed his problem but didn't know what to do about it. I chewed my lip for a few seconds, then decided to help. I made my way to the line.
"How much?" I asked the cashier. She looked at me like I was crazy, then rolled her eyes and gave the price again. I reached for my wallet, pulling out the money and handing the roses to the shocked boy. He took them automatically, staring at me like I was a ghost. I smiled at him, and he reluctantly smiled back.
"Thank you." He sounded close to tears, and I could see him working very hard not to cry.
"You're welcome. What's your name?" Before he could answer, a well-dressed man in a trenchcoat walked in, looked around, and came over to us.
"David? Everything all right?" He glanced at me as he said this. I looked at him, and tried to find any resemblence between the man (I assumed he was the father) and the boy. There was none. The man was slightly shorter than medium heighth, had light brown hair streaked with grey, and hazel eyes. His facial features were completely different, and though he didn't smile, I knew that it would be unlike David's.
"I'm fine. I didn't have enough money, so, um..." he trailed off looking at me.
"Morgan." I said.
"So Morgan paid for them. Everything's fine now." He stared into the man's eyes, and eventually the man nodded and looked up at me.
"Okay, David, if you say so. Why don't you go wait in the car for me?" David nodded and left. The man pulled me aside, pulling out his wallet as he did.
"Oh, no, sir, please. It was my pleasure, really." He looked at me doubtfully, then apparently decided I was telling the truth.
"Okay. I just want to thank you, Morgan, was it?, for doing this for David. You have no idea how much this means to him." He turned and walked out of the store, leaving me standing dumb by the checkout lines.
A few weeks later, I saw David come in again with his father. They headed for the greeting card section and, my curious nature prevailing, I followed. They were talking and laughing over the cards, apparently trying to find an appropriate birthday card for an admiral. (I had been right; the man's smile was nothing like David's. In fact, it looked more like a smirk than a smile.)
"What about this one?" The man picked one up and showed it to David.
"Nah. We need a funny one. I keep telling you, the Admiral is really a fun guy." His dad snorted.
"Look, David, when somebody breaks your nose, you don't usually think of him as a 'fun guy'." Broken nose? There was a story there, that's for sure.
"Okay, how about this one?"
"'Happy 75th...Grandpa.' Grandpa? Um, on second thought, let's go with the funny one." David laughed, and his laugh was like his smile: incredible. "I thought so." I stepped out from the rack I was hiding behind and asked if I could help. They looked up and greeted me.
"Hi, Morgan. How are you?" This from David.
"Fine, thanks, David. How are you?"
"Fine. Do you have any cards for someone who's like a grandpa, but isn't?" He gazed at me with those blue eyes, trusting and intense. I stared into those eyes for a second before turning to the card rack.
"Hm, I'm not sure...do you want a funny one or a serious one?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"A funny one. Right?" David looked at his father, who nodded reluctantly.
"And something that won't upset him." The man added quickly.
"Funny card for someone like a grandpa that won't upset him...here's one." I searched the rack and pulled one out for him.
"'It's your birthday...Break out the bran muffins and prune juice!' See, and cake and punch is crossed out. That's great! Thanks, Morgan." David seemed delighted with the card, his father was less enthusiastic.
"Do you think that a former SEAL would deck someone for calling him old?"
"Oh, come on. He's over that. I told you, he just likes to intimidate you." David reassured him.
"He sounds like a great guy." I said, uncertain.
"Oh, yeah, he's a laugh and a half." The man responded sarcastically. "David loves him though. He's been like a grandfather to him. I just had a rather unfortunate experience with him, oh, about twenty years ago."
"Yeah, the Admiral punched him 'cause he was being sneaky and putting people in the line of danger..." David suddenly clouded over, his lighthearted attitude disappearing. The man put his hand on David's shoulder and pulled David to him. David's shoulders shook silently, and his father put both his arms around him. I stood there, unsure of what had happened or what to do. The man looked at me as if to reassure me that it wasn't my fault and that I should just wait. David collected himself and turned, apologizing.
"Sorry, I get like that sometimes..." he paused. "All my grandfathers died before I was born. I guess that's why I'm so close to the admiral." I nodded, still hesitant, but understanding.
"There's Grandpa Frank," his father said.
"Yeah, but he's not the same. Besides, I hardly ever see him."
I continued to stand, shyly, in the middle of the aisle, apparently forgotten by David and his father. They finally looked up at me and asked if I could check them out.
"Sure, I guess. Let me find an open register." I walked down the lines, finally coming to an unmanned checkout line. I rang the card through and wished them a good day. They thanked me and left, leaving me as curious as ever about the boy called David and his mysterious father.
Years passed. I went to college and pursued a career as a school counselor. I returned to my old neighborhood and got a job at the local high school. I saw kids from all walks of life; kids from broken homes and kids from the healthiest homes imaginable. Then one day, a junior walked into my office for some advice and I almost fell out of my chair. I could never forget that face, those eyes.
"David!" I was shocked beyond belief. He didn't seem to recognize me at first, but then I saw it dawn on him.
"Morgan?" He whispered.
"Yeah, it's me. How are you?" I stared at him. He was now quite tall, probably 6' 4". His hair was the same, and his eyes...his eyes were still that piercing blue.
"I'm fine, how are you? I haven't seen you since I was, what, twelve?"
"Yeah. I'm fine, got a good job here. Have a seat. Now, what did you come in for?"
"Well, I need some advice about my classes. My Calculus teacher wants me in an AP Trigonometry class next year, but I can't fit it into my schedule. Can you help?" He looked at me with that same trusting look he'd given me four years ago.
"I'll try. Let's just get your schedule up here, there we go." I pulled his schedule onto the computer screen and we looked at it together. "Okay, AP Trig is first and third period. You have NJROTC and AP US Government. Are you willing to drop either one of those?" He shook his head vehemently. "Okay, we'll just have to rearrange these a little. Mmhmm, uh- huh, okay, there we go. Now you can drop either English, AP Physics, or Latin III. As far as credits go, you're fine, so just choose one of those."
"English," he said without hesitation.
"Okay, English it is. So, we're replacing English with AP Trigonometry. That okay?" He nodded.
"I don't really like English."
"Ah, of course. What do you plan on doing after high school?"
"Naval Academy, flight school, Tomcats," he responded quickly.
"Hmm. Need help with an appointment to the Academy?"
"No, thanks. I got it covered. You remember the Admiral?" I nodded and grinned. He smiled, too, and continued. "Well, he's really in with the new SecNav. Not in a bad way, they're just friends and the SecNav isn't real pushy like others have been. Anyway, so the Admiral's friends with the SecNav, not to mention a Congressman, so I'm okay there. Thanks, though."
"No problem. You got any more questions, or you just want to talk, you know where I am."
"Thanks." He smiled, and I was glad I was sitting down, otherwise my knees might have given out. He had grown from a mature young teen to a mature young man. He was not that much younger than me, and he was the nicest boy - man - I'd ever met. I got back to work, busying myself with other students, my mind never far from David.
Graduation day, class of 2024. David's class. I sat with the other school administrators, watching the seniors and the crowd of parents. I saw David's father and noticed that he had a tear running down his cheek. As the diplomas were given out, his face contorted and tears ran freely down his face. He was sitting next to an old, bald man in a navy uniform, a slightly younger black man, also in uniform, and a middle-aged blonde woman. All three were crying when David received his diploma. After the ceremony, I made my way over to David and hugged him.
"Congratualtions, David."
"Thanks, Morgan. I couldn't have done it without you." He looked at me with those eyes, and I almost collapsed. Those eyes would break hearts.
"David, do you want to introduce us to your friend?" A gruff voice spoke behind us. I turned and saw the bald man, as well as David's father and his other two companions.
"Yes, sir! Admiral, Uncle Sturgis, Aunt Harriet, this is Morgan. Morgan, this is Admiral Chegwidden, Admiral Sturgis Turner, and Commander Harriet Sims. Morgan is my counselor, but she's also my friend."
"Nice to meet you all. Nice to see you again, Mr..." I shook hands with all of them, pausing hesitantly at David's father. He looked confused.
"Webb. Have we met before?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. I believe it was about six years ago. The grocery store, the roses, the card?" I prompted. His eyes widened.
"That was you? Well, Morgan, it's very nice to see you again." he shook his head in disbelief.
"Your parents would have been proud, David." The Admiral spoke kindly. David nodded, tears running down his cheeks. Now I was confused. Wasn't his father right there? And...wait! The surname on David's school file was not Webb. What was going on?
"Thank you, sir."
"I wish they could be here to see you, David." Admiral Turner said. He hugged David tightly.
"They're watching over you, David. Just remember that." Commander Sims said, hugging David as well.
"Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me." He glanced around. "Where's James?"
"It's finals week in Rosslyn; they don't get out til next week. James really wanted to come, David." 'Aunt Harriet' said softly.
"Oh, right. I forgot. Oh, well, I'll go see his next week." He paused, then explained to me, "James is Aunt Harriet's son and we're like brothers. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bud were real good friends of my parents." I nodded, inwardly trying to figure this out. Were? Were David's parents dead? But his father...slowly it dawned on me: Mr. Webb wasn't his real father.
I accepted their offer to join them for a celebratory dinner. Talking and laughing our way through the meal, I learned more about David and his 'family'. The Admiral Chegwidden was a former SEAL, 'Uncle Sturgis' a former submariner. Mr. Webb had been in the CIA. This all impressed me, but what I really remembered was when the conversation turned to David's parents. They had both been killed when he was eight, leaving David in Mr. Webb's care. Aunt Harriet's husband, Bud, had also been killed. David's mother had been a Marine, his father a naval aviator. Both had turned to the law, becoming JAGs. They had met in a rose garden, put together by Mr. Webb and introduced by the Admiral.
"They had fallen in love within weeks of their first meeting," the Admiral told me, "but were too thick to realize it."
"They had their ups and downs over the next five or six years, finally becoming the best of friends. Then they figured out that they couldn't live without each other and got married." 'Aunt Harriet' contributed this piece, beaming with the memory. I could see a slight sadness behind her eyes, but she was a sweet, motherly type.
"They tried several times to have children and were starting to fear that they were too old. Then David surprised us all," 'Uncle Sturgis' told me. "She had a complicated pregnancy and delivered in the Admiral's office." At this, the Admiral sniggered.
"That office has seen its share of babies born. Look out, Sturgis." They all laughed, but the joke went right over my head.
"Before David, the Admiral delivered a Marine Corporal's baby in his office. That was after he delivered my first son," Harriet explained to my confused look. "Then my second. And third."
"Harriet works a little too hard sometimes." The Admiral put in, and this time I laughed with them.
David was, to my surprise, quite animated and involved in the conversation. After his 'episode' in the store those years ago, I had thought the subject of his parents was pretty much closed. I guess I was wrong. He pulled three pictures out of his wallet and handed them to me. I looked over them, trying to figure out what they depicted. The first was of a tall man standing with a very pregnant woman. The woman was tall (though not as tall as the man), blonde and blue eyed. It was an old photo, probably out of the sixties. They were gazing at each other with a look of pure love. The second photo was another old one, a black and white, of a young boy sitting in a fighter jet, his father looking at him proudly and protectively. The father appeared to be the man in the first photograph. The last photo was a relatively new one, probably only about twenty years old. It showed, like the first, a man standing with a pregnant woman. Though the man looked almost the same as in the first two, the woman was very different. She was shorter and darker skinned, with brown eyes and brown hair. The man was tall, with bright blue eyes and dark hair. I realized immediately where David had gotten his looks. He explained the snapshots.
"The first one is of my father's parents. The second one is my father and my grandfather, they were both fighter pilots. The last one there is of my parents, and of course, me." He became very quiet as I handed the photos back, thanking him for showing me. I was wrestling with myself, trying to decide if it would be too insensitive to ask how they had died. I lost my opportunity when the conversation took a lighter turn.
"Harriet, the boys coming up for the Fourth?" The Admiral asked.
"I think little AJ might make it, with Tracy and the twins. Mikey can't get off, but Catherine and Jason are coming. James and Scotty, of course, are still here."
"You have four sons?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered proudly. "And three wonderful grandchildren: Patrick, Mackenzie, and Jason. The twins are five and Jason is one."
"What do your sons do?" I was immensely curious about the people David obviously considered family.
"Well, little AJ is 25. He's not so little anymore. He works at a computer programming company. Mikey is 21 and a sonar operator on the USS Texas. James is 17, graduates next week, and he wants to go to Annapolis and flight school with David. Scotty is 13, almost 14, and in eighth grade. He's thinking about medicine, probably in the Navy." She ended with a smile, glowing with pride.
"Wow. That's some family. May I ask why AJ didn't go into the Navy?" I almost regretted asking, but my ever-curious nature got the better of me. Again. A faint shadow passed over her face and she hesitated for a moment.
"Well...twenty two years ago, when AJ was three, Bud...stepped on a land mine." She stifled a sob, quickly wiping her eyes and looking back up.
"It's alright, you don't have to tell me." I said hastily, not wanting to dredge up the past and ruin the happy evening. The Admiral, seated next to Harriet, put his arm around her shoulder.
"No, it's okay. I just...haven't talked about it for a long time." She paused to collect herself before continuing. "For a while, we didn't know if Bud would even live. He survived, but he lost his right leg below the knee. Recovery was...a trying time for all of us. Bud was impatient with his progress and I was a little overprotective. AJ was too little to really understand, but as he grew up he began to resent the Navy for placing his father in a place where that could happen to him. He went through a phase where he was angry at everyone and everything, especially the Navy. Bud and I explained to him about duty and serving your country, and it seemed to calm him down. But then, when he was fifteen, Bud...was killed." Tears ran silently down her cheeks, but she seemed determined to continue. "That was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. AJ refused to have anything to do with the Navy, or any military service, and estranged himself for awhile. Now, though, he's come back to us, though he still doesn't want to join." She was able to smile through her tears, and I thanked her for telling me. I was sorry to leave them after dinner. They were as close as any family I had ever seen; in fact, they were a family. I wished desperately that I had a family like them. Sure, my parents lived about a mile from my apartment and my brother about two, but I almost never saw them. I felt closer to David's family, whom I'd just met, than to my own. I sat in my apartment, staring at a wall and mulling over my thoughts for a few hours, then went to bed early. I had never realized how lonely I was.
I came home from a walk on July 1, going into my bedroom to change. I noticed a blinking light on my answering machine and played the message, continuing on to the bedroom. The voice stopped me in my tracks.
{Hi, Morgan. It's David. I was wondering if you wanted to join us for our annual Fourth of July celebration. We usually have a picnic lunch in the park and then go down to the waterfront for fireworks. If you want to come, call Aunt Harriet. She's in the phone book under Roberts. See you, I hope. Bye.}
I was elated. This would be my first proper Fourth celebration in years. I looked up Harriet in the phone book, dialing hurriedly in my excitement.
{Hello?} A young male voice answered, and I assumed it was either James or Scotty.
"Hi, is your mother home?"
{Yeah, just a minute.} I heard him call his mother in the background, and then Harriet's comforting voice came on. {Hello?}
"Hi, this is Morgan," I started.
{Morgan, dear! It's nice to hear from you! Are you calling about the Fourth?}
"Yes, David called and told me about it, and I'm not doing anything else, so if I'm still invited..."
{Don't be silly, of course you are! We'd love to have you. We'll meet at Headquarters at 1300, sorry, I mean 1:00. Let me get you directions...Okay, here they are. Do you have a pen?}
I copied down the directions, thanked her, and told her I'd see her there. I looked forward to the day like it was Christmas.
I woke up early on the Fourth, not sure what to do with myself for the five hours I had to spare. I decided to visit Arlington National Cemetery; I had never been despite living in Arlington my whole life. I walked the paths, gazing at the rows upon rows of graves and thinking about all the men and women who had given their lives for this country, for me. I was deep in thought when I felt a hand on my shoulder and instinctively whirled around, ready to flee. I relaxed when I recognized the young man: David.
"Morgan, what are you doing here?"
"Well, I'd never seen it, so I decided to come...pay my respects." I looked at him, a strange feeling in my stomach. "Why are you here?"
"I come every Fourth, and every November 13, to visit my parents." He was matter-of-fact, not emotional in any way. His face was a mask, but his eyes...his eyes showed the pain I had first noticed in them.
"Could you," I started, not sure if I should ask. "Could you show me?" I thought he would be offended, maybe even angry, but instead he just looked surprised.
"Uh, sure. No one's ever asked me that before. I'd like you to meet them." He gazed into my eyes, and I felt like I was drowning in the sea- blue of his. We were jerked out of the reverie by a pushy tourist shoving past us on his way up the path. David beckoned and I followed. He led me to a slightly newer area, where the marble was still white and the names still readable. He walked purposefully to two graves, side by side, and stopped. I came up softly behind him, reading the names. He began to speak.
"Hi, mom, hi, dad. How are you? I'm doing better. I graduated last month and I was appointed to the Academy. James is coming, too." He paused, tears running down his face, and took a deep breath. "I'd like you to meet someone. This is Morgan. Remember that year I told you I couldn't afford the roses, and so someone bought them for me? This is her. She's been helping me a lot the past couple of years, and she's almost part of the family now." He stopped again and appeared to be listening. Then he turned and looked at me, his green-blue eyes glistening. No words were needed. He started back toward the path but I lingered for a few moments. I felt something brush my cheek and realized I was crying, too.
I followed David out of the cemetery and he walked me to my car with three hours to go before the picnic. We stood awkwardly by my little VW, not knowing what to say but not wanting to say goodbye. Finally, David broke the silence.
"Um, I was going to go buy Scotty and the twins birthday presents. Do you," he stared at the ground, "Do you want to come?" He looked up at me, his eyes full of doubt, bracing himself against my denial.
"I'd love to," I said softly. He smiled and I had to hold on to the car door for support. "Hop in."
We drove around town, looking for a perfect gift. It gave us an opportunity to talk, really talk. I found myself listening more than talking and I learned even more about David.
"I was eight when my parents were killed, but I remember them like it was yesterday. My dad used to sit me on his lap and tell me stories about his dad, his flying years, and my mom. My mom would sit in the other chair and listen, smiling. When I got a little older, my dad took me up in his Stearman. 'He taught me to want to fly'. That's what he always said about his dad, and that's what he did for me. My mom, she was awesome. She would do mom stuff, like taking care of me when I was sick and making sure I always had clean underwear, you know. But then sometimes she would be all Marine. Once, I stole a candybar from a convenience store. I didn't really know it was wrong 'cause I was only six, but she chewed me out like a DI, then made me take the candybar back, apologize and pay for it. I never stole again." He paused, smiling a little at the memory. "My parents both had tough childhoods, especially my mom. She was pretty 'unprivileged', and her dad was basically a drunk. I don't think he ever hit her, but he beat up her mom and verbally abused her. Her mom ran off when she was fifteen. She became an alcoholic, and then married a real jerk. He got arrested on auto theft a few months later. My mom was in a car crash that killed her friend, and after that her uncle took her out into the desert and dried her out. She joined the Marines, like her uncle, and that really straightened her out. You'd've never guessed about her background just looking at her.
"My dad actually had it pretty good compared to my mom. He grew up in a middle-class family, his dad was a naval aviator and his mom was kind of a homemaker, I guess. But when he was six, his dad was shot down over Vietnam. Christmas Eve, 1969. He grew up on his dad's letter tapes, determined to find him someday and bring him back. He ran away when he was sixteen, went to Vietnam looking for his dad. He didn't find him, and after that it became kind of an obsession. He spent all his free time following leads which mostly turned out to be false. When he finally got a real 'tip', sort of by accident, he went to Russia to track it down. My mom, at this point still just his partner, followed him the whole way and was there when he found out that his dad had died twenty years before. That really tore him up, but I think it was good for him to finally find out. After that, though, he was kind of lost for a while. He had spent so much of his life trying to find his dad that his search had become part of him. After it ended, he didn't have anything solid in his life. Well, except my mom. She was always there for him, and he for her.
"They actually made a promise to each other when AJ was born that they'd have a baby together in five years if neither of them was in a relationship. Well, five years rolled around and they were both in a very serious relationship. They got married on May 18, 2004, AJ's fifth birthday. I came along two years later. Weird thing, too, James and I were born on the same day, both in the Admiral's office! We've been closer than brothers ever since. I think my parents would have left me with the Roberts, except that they were struggling a little already with four kids. They had in their will that Clay would be my guardian if anything happened. So he was, then he adopted me. He's great, but I still can't call him Dad. My dad was the same way. His mom remarried a few years after his dad went down. Grandpa Frank is a great guy, but Dad always called him Frank." He stared out the window for the rest of the ride. I don't think I offended him, I think he was just tired.
We arrived at the toy store and had a blast picking out presents for the five-year-old twins. We moved on to a bookstore, looking for a gift for almost-fourteen-year-old Scotty. David said he was into unexplained phenomena and extraterrestrial life, so we got him a book about the Bermuda Triangle. By the time we were finished, it was time to go to the picnic. David gave me directions, since I'd forgotten Harriet's at my apartment. I pulled up to the guard gate, not sure how we'd get in without ID. David, however, just leaned over and greeted the guard.
"Afternoon, Corporal Greer. Can my friend and I come in?" He flashed the corporal a smile.
"Go ahead, David." The guard opened the barrier, letting us into the parking lot. I pulled in and got out, staring at the large brick building. It was beautiful.
"Wow..." I whispered, awed.
"Yeah, it's something, isn't it? I practically grew up here." He took my hand and led me in, greeting the door guards in much the same way as he'd greeted the gate guard. "This is the bullpen," he explained to me. "Over there is Uncle Sturgis' office, and everyone else's is all around the perimeter. There's Aunt Harriet, let's go."
We walked over to Harriet, who was looking slightly frazzled but beaming all the while. She greeted David and me with a hug.
"Morgan! So glad you could make it! David, could you take her to Sturgis' office? We're just waiting on AJ and company."
David led me into a beautiful oak-finished room. The Admiral sat in a large leather chair behind a desk that matched the room. I was reminded of the Oval Office, somehow. A bunch of people were milling around, talking, waiting. Uncle Sturgis came up and greeted us. I again had the distinct feeling that I belonged. I saw Mr. Webb over in a corner, surveying the crowd. Other than that, I didn't recognize anyone. There was a 40s-ish man speaking to the Admiral. A woman stood close to him and I assumed they were married. Across the room was a similar aged man, chatting with a young woman holding a baby. Two boys were approaching us, one about David's age and one a bit younger. They looked almost identical.
"Hey, David! What's up?" The older one called, shaking David's hand and looking at me.
"Whose your date?"
"She's, uh, she's..." David stammered.
"Not his date." I finished for him. "You must be James, and Scotty. David's told me all about you. I'm Morgan." James stuck out his hand and I shook it, then Scotty's.
"Nice to meet you Morgan. If you're not his date, what brings you to our picnic?" His tone wasn't offensive, just curious.
"It's a long story, starting about five years ago. David came in to --" I started. I stopped when I saw Harriet appear at the door.
"Okay, everyone! We're all here now, so let's get going!"
We left the building, driving our own vehicles in a convoy to our destination. It was a beautiful spot; a grassy area shaded by cherry trees right on the Potomac. Harriet enlisted our help and we got the picnic blankets set up. After we ate, we sat and talked, watching Scotty play with his twin cousins. David introduced me to everyone.
"Tiner, this is my friend Morgan. Morgan, Master Chief Jason Tiner. And this is his wife, CPO retired Jennifer Coates." I shook both their hands, recognizing the couple that had been talking to the Admiral earlier. Next I met Lieutenant Commander Mikey Roberts, the elder. Apparently he was Uncle Bud's brother. After him came Catherine and Jason Roberts, wife and son of Petty Officer Mikey Roberts, the younger. The petty officer couldn't make it. Finally came the man about my age.
"Morgan, this is AJ Roberts. AJ, Morgan. This is AJ's wife Tracy and over there are their twins, Patrick and Mackenzie." I shook their hands, desperately hoping I could keep everyone straight. David seemed to sense my mounting stress. "Do you want to take a walk?" he asked. I agreed, grateful for the chance to relax a little. He told AJ we were going to take a short walk and helped me up off the grass.
We walked along the river in silence. It was a comfortable silence, though, not at all awkward. I had never been good at silence, it always made me nervous. But with David...it worked. We could just...be. After a little while, David looked at me like he was trying to decide something. Finally he asked softly, "Do you want to know how my parents died?"
I was a little surprised, but he looked at me with those eyes..."Only if you want to tell me," I responded. He did. He told me how it had happened, how he had heard, how he had felt. For the first time since I had met him, I saw tears flow freely down his face. I didn't know quite what to do but on impulse, I reached toward him and hugged him tightly. He thanked me and we continued on.
We reached a bend in the river, right underneath a huge cherry tree. Blossoms graced the ground all around it, making a ring - a ring of beauty and security. David took my hand and led me into the shadows, right up to the trunk of the tree. I turned to him and got swept off my feet by the look in his eyes. It was intense, it was pure, it was...love? A warm, wonderful sensation was spreading through my body, making me feel light as air. We leaned toward each other...and kissed. I have never liked that word. Kiss. It's so overused in today's society that it's practically meaningless. But this...this was indeed a kiss. Pure, untainted love flowed through it.
I have kissed other guys. With them, it was all the same. It wasn't bad, it just was. But with David...it went deeper than the physical. I was completely lost in him, but I was also completely myself. It was the strangest feeling I have ever experienced. I learned later that that is exactly what true love is - the truest sense of self perfectly intertwined with an understanding of your bond.
We pulled apart at the same time, gazing deep into each other's eyes, trying to read the other's thoughts. David smiled slowly at me, and I smiled back. No words were needed. We turned and headed back to the picnic area.
I went home from that picnic totally confused and at the same time more sure of some things than I had ever been. I knew that I had a family now, a family closer than blood ties could ever bring them. I also knew that I loved David. I don't think I had ever truly loved anyone before David. I was pretty sure he had the same feelings for me, judging by that kiss this afternoon. Past that point, I felt like someone had tossed my thoughts into a blender and pushed 'Frappe'. Completely exhausted, I went to bed early, still thinking about David.
I woke up earlier than usual, the sleep having cleared my head wonderfully. I got dressed and was about to make breakfast when someone knocked at my door. A little surprised and very wary, I opened the door slowly and cautiously. (I didn't have a peephole.) There stood David, a dozen roses in his hand, looking slightly unsure. He flashed a quick, heart-stopping smile though and handed me the roses. I took them, stunned and pleasantly surprised.
"Hi," he said softly.
"Uh, hi," I replied, snapping out of my stupor. "Come on in."
"Oh, no thanks. I just, well," he stumbled. Looking at his feet, then back at me, he continued in a rush. "Can I take you out to breakfast?"
I smiled. "I'd love to. Just give me a second to get ready." He nodded and I went back to my bedroom to put on some shoes. My heart felt like it was skipping every other beat and I felt an insane urge to giggle uncontrollably. I locked the door behind me and took David's hand.
Breakfast was great. To this day I cannot tell you what I ate, but I will never forget our conversation. It started out harmless enough. We talked about politics, school, careers. Then we moved into more dangerous waters. I guess I started it. It had been a pretty normal conversation about dating and exes when I decided to make a joke. Sort of.
"I mean, have you ever been in love?" I asked, half-laughing. I should have known better. David looked at me, through me, with those eyes and I felt my heart flip over. I suddenly realized what I'd said and felt sick. Great, I thought, here comes the end of a great friendship. What does he think I meant?
Then I realized that he wasn't looking at me like I was crazy, or like I had offended him in any way; he was seriously considering the question. My eyes widened and I went from "what did I say?" to "what will he say?"
He took a breath and I held mine. "Well," he started. "I'm not entirely sure I know what love is. But," he paused, framing his next words. I couldn't have been distracted by a stripper. "If it's what I saw in my parents, in Uncle Bud and Aunt Harriet, and what I feel for you, then...yes." His final comment came out in barely more than a whisper as he looked down at his hands and then back up at me. I was so elated that I didn't see his question coming. "What about you?"
Okay, that was fair. He'd just poured out his heart to me; the least I could do was respond. But how? Less is more, I thought. I just looked straight into those green-blue eyes and said, "Yes."
The look in his eyes was so shocked I almost laughed. I guess I looked about the same way: ecstatic, puzzled, startled. And he looked afraid. No, not afraid...cautious. A second later the look was gone and I dismissed it. The biggest question on my mind was, "What now?" I knew we couldn't get married until after he graduated from the Academy, and I figured that at this point that was a good thing. We needed to spend more time together, get to know each other more, form a plan of action. From the look on his face I could tell David was thinking much the same thing. We smiled tentatively and then he walked me back to my apartment, holding my hand the whole way.
That night I found it difficult to fall asleep. My mind was whirling with thoughts of David. I finally drifted off into a restless half-sleep and with the sleep came dreams. I saw a farmhouse, out in the country. A young woman stood on the porch, weeping silently. A baby slept soundly in her arms. A young sailor in a World War II uniform kissed her and the baby gently, then turned and walked down the road into eternity. The scene shifted. There was a different woman standing on a different porch. By her side was a small boy, no more than five. Her sailor was in a more recent-style uniform, I guessed around Vietnam. The sailor bent and ruffled the boy's hair, kissed the woman sweetly, then he walked down the road never to return. The scene changed again. This time, only a boy stood on the porch. He was older, perhaps eight. An older sailor and a woman in uniform hugged him tightly, then walked together down the road. They, too, did not come back. Throughout the whole dream I had known, in that way one knows in dreams, that the three sailors were three generations of the same family. I had seen no faces to this point, but the boy on the porch lingered. He turned, and I saw it was David.
Three years, Eleven months later...
(USNA Graduation Day, 2028)
I sat with the whole 'family', waiting for David to walk across that stage and shake the President's hand. He hadn't changed at all; he was still that dashing almost-flyboy that I loved. Finally, finally his name was called. As he stood and strode across the platform, his eyes searched the crowd. When they found mine, his ever-present grin subtly shifted. No one else would have noticed, except maybe Clay, but I knew David like no one else. He had several smiles: one to get in and out of trouble, one for his family, one for when he was really happy, and one for me. I know it sounds cheesy but it's true; I had watched him closely for four years and I had never seen him use that smile on anyone else. I smiled back as he shook the President's hand and walked back to his seat. I couldn't wait to see him up close again, even if it had only been since Christmas.
I had spent the past four years with the family, as I called them, while David was at the Academy. He came home on leave every few months, of course, and it was during those times that we talked and grew ever closer. In the meantime, I bonded with the family. I went to Scotty's school functions, Aunt Harriet's get-togethers, and the Admiral's golf tournaments. They all accepted me like I was one of them and I found myself becoming just that: one of them. James and Scotty became my brothers, Harriet my aunt, the Admiral my grandfather. I had my own family, of course, and I didn't break with them. But David's family became almost more real to me, like I had been living in a dream and had only just now woken up.
After all the graduates had finished, we made our way over to where James and David were standing with their fellow midshipmen-turned-ensigns. To my enormous shock, all 158 of them suddenly came to a stiff attention and saluted us. I was, to be honest, pretty scared. Then I saw the Admiral return the salute and understood. The Admiral was in full dress whites for the occasion, complete with two conspicuous stars on each shoulder and tons of 'scrambled eggs' on his cover. The new ensigns, of course, had just spent the past four years being drilled in respect for senior officers. I had grown so used to the Admiral (as a friend and in civilian clothes) that I often forgot about his rank.
After that little episode, David and James found us. Waving goodbye to their friends of four years, with the usual promises to write and call, they walked with us to our cars. We were going out, all together, for a celebratory dinner. Having not seen David in months, I was eager to talk and catch up with him. He seemed...distant, though. Almost distracted. I was about to ask him about it when he turned and graced me with a dazzling smile. I didn't forget about his strange behavior, but I pushed it aside for the moment. We had a great dinner, talking, laughing, and remembering. It reminded me of David's high school graduation dinner, where I had first really gotten to know him. Flooded with warm thoughts and happy memories, the family split up for the night and headed home. I started for my car but David held me back. Holding me with his eyes, he spoke.
"Could we, um, take a walk?" This struck me as strange. True, it was a warm summer night in Washington, but it was almost midnight and Washington is not known for its stellar criminal record. I also noticed the look in his eyes. Distracted, like he had been acting earlier.
"Er, it's kind of late, David," I responded, trying to get the reason out of him. No such luck.
"I know, but...I need to talk to you." Uh-oh. Not a good sign. Still, I decided to humor him. After all, it was a beautiful summer night and I wasn't a bit tired.
"Okay." He almost visibly relaxed. He was still distracted, or nervous, but he seemed to have cleared his first hurdle.
We walked down a couple of streets before breaking out into the open. Walking along the Potomac, I kept questioning David, trying to get an answer out of him. He didn't say a word. We stopped and I finally realized where we were: under the cherry tree where we had first kissed. Something like alarm bells were going off in my head. Were we breaking up? I had not seen this coming at all. I had thought we were doing fine. What happened? David took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Oh, boy, I thought. Here it comes.
"Morgan, we've been seeing each other for four years now. That's a pretty long time, you know, and well...I think we should stop dating."
I'm not the type to cry at every little thing; in fact, I hate to cry. But this...this was literally the worst moment in my entire life. I couldn't help it; my eyes filled and a tear slipped out. David looked bewildered at my response, then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
"Oh, my gosh! No, that's not what I meant. Ah, this is going all wrong. Look, Morgan, what I meant to say was...well, here I think this says it better."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. Now my eyes widened. He held it out and I took it hesitantly, not daring to hope. I opened it slowly, carefully; wanting to see and afraid to look. Finally it opened enough to where I could see a small glimmer of light. Abandoning all caution I flung the box all the way open and gasped. There sat the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen. Of course, that may have been because it was David giving it to me, but nevertheless...I looked up at David, hoping to confirm my wildest dreams. He was watching me nervously, judging my reaction, bracing himself for the worst. When I looked up at him he immediately dropped to one knee and said the five most wonderful words I'd ever heard.
"Morgan, will you marry me?"
I started to tear up again, this time from sheer joy. I leaped into his arms and all but shouted, "Yes!" If his relief was obvious, so was his shock. He stared at me, unconvinced.
"Really? You're sure?"
I laughed. "Yes, I'm sure! Are you trying to talk me out of it?"
His eyes lit up. He gathered me in his arms and we kissed like never before.
Six months later...
(December 12, 2028)
It was finally here. The day I'd been waiting for for six months - our wedding day. I had been making preparations with my mother and Aunt Harriet while David was at flight school. He had come back just a few days ago to Aunt Harriet's orders and directions. Great sport that he was, he just followed along without any questions. Ours was to be a military wedding, so the guys' clothes were taken care of, but dresses still needed to be bought, decorations planned, and a church rented. Not to mention finding a place for the reception, making a guest list, and on and on. I was starting to wonder if we shouldn't just elope.
But the day finally came and I saw the end of all our hard planning. A light snow the night before had coated the church with a Christmas-card icing without messing up the roads too much. The inside was gorgeous, all white roses and lace. I was almost immediately shuttled away into a back room for last minute touch-ups. Aunt Harriet was fawning over me, adjusting this and picking at that. My mother was no better. She sat in the corner, staring at me and crying her eyes out. I couldn't take it anymore. Claiming nature's call, I fled the room and stood in the hallway taking deep breaths. I was about to go back in and face them again when I heard voiced coming from one of the other rooms. My ever-curious nature kicked in and a crept over to see what it was about. I recognized David's voice and also...Clay's. My ear pressed to the door, hoping no one would walk by and see me, I was able to make out their conversation.
"David, I can't tell you how happy I am for you. Morgan is a wonderful girl and you two are perfect for each other. Oh, you look just like your father did on his wedding day..." I heard a sniff.
"Clay? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's just...I never told you this but...I loved your mother. She never felt the same way about me; she loved your father. But I always held out hope...The day they got married was the day I knew I'd lost her. I was happy for her, of course, but I was so jealous of your father...When you were born I was elated for her but crushed that you weren't mine. Raising you brought me closer to your mother than I ever could have been..." He broke off in a sob.
"I already knew that. You didn't have to tell me; it was in the way you talk about her, the way you look at her picture. I understand...Dad."
I gasped, then, not wanting to be discovered, retreated back to the brideroom. David had told me long ago that he could never call Clay 'Dad'. I wondered what had changed. Perhaps he felt a deeper connection with Clay after his little confession. I wanted to think about it more, but it was almost time. I was getting nervous.
I had no doubt of my love for David, or of his for me. The problem I had was with the dream I'd had years ago. The one where I'd seen David's great- grandfather, grandfather, and both parents die early. I don't believe in curses, but those kind of statistics (which had been verified by David later) make you wonder. I knew David's job would be dangerous: flying fighter jets is no cake-walk. I also knew that the Navy was not careless with their personnel. The Admiral had been a SEAL, Uncle Sturgis a submariner. They were safe and had lived long, full lives. Even Clay, in the CIA, had survived to bring up David. My uneasiness lingered.
I walked nervously to the door with my father. I watched nervously as my brother, Mikey Roberts II, James, and Scotty filed in. I watched nervously as my sister-in-law, Catherine Roberts (Mikey's wife), Aunt Harriet, and Sydney Callahan (a good colleague/friend of mine) sashayed to the altar, taking their places opposite the groomsmen. I watched nervously as Jason Roberts (Mikey's son) traipsed down the red carpet, holding a pillow importantly in front of him. I watched nervously as Mackenzie Roberts (AJ's daughter) and my niece stepped delicately between the pews, tossing rosepetals everywhere.
Finally it was our turn. I heard the bridal march begin and thought I might throw up. Stepping into the sanctuary with my father, I could finally see the whole scene. David stood at the altar, resplendent in his dress whites and even more handsome than ever. Looking into his eyes I wondered how I could ever have doubted this moment. And yet, I still did. My father gave my hand to David and we stepped closer to the pastor. Unable to look directly into David's eyes anymore, I scanned the audience. In the back of the sanctuary, standing in the shadows, I saw someone. It looked like it might be a couple, possibly in uniform, but I couldn't be sure. Thinking this might be part of the military ceremony, I tried to ignore them. But something wouldn't allow me to let them go. Just after my vows and before David's, I turned back. I heard David next to me repeating the pastor's words. I squinted, trying to see them better.
What happened next, I'll never be sure. A bright light, like a camera flash, exploded in my eyes. I kept my eyes on the couple at the back. After the stars cleared from my vision, I tried to see who they were. They were gone, leaving no evidence as to their identity. I only saw one thing in the flash: a glint of gold on the man's chest. A glint that looked almost like...wings.
AN2: Morgan is about 18 when this starts.
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It was my first week on the job, working as a shelver/bag girl at a grocery store in Arlington, VA. I had been stacking soup cans in a display near the door when I noticed a boy, probably about 12 or 13, wander in. My boss had told me to watch out for kids (especially boys) around that age; shoplifting or some such thing. The boy glanced around, like he was looking for something, and I decided to take action. I walked up to him and asked if he needed anything. He looked at me with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen and spoke so politely and clearly it nearly knocked me off my feet.
"I was just looking for your flower section. Could you point me in the right direction, please?"
"Uhh, flowers? Um, they're right over, over there. In aisle one." I could barely speak. The kid was so...nice. I had never met a twelve-year-old like him. As he thanked me and walked away, I noticed a deep sadness in his eyes, a sadness that shouldn't be in a kid's eyes. He was, otherwise, a normal looking kid. He had dark brown hair and dusky skin. He was slightly on the tall side of medium, probably around 5' 10". He seemed very mature for his age though, like something had forced him to grow up too fast. I decided to follow him, abandoning the soup display and trying to be invisible. He went straight to the flowers, examining the roses carefully. He picked two perfect white roses, and turned around. I grinned sheepishly, embarrassed at having been caught. He smiled back, as if he understood, and it was the most incredible smile I had ever seen. I stared like an idiot at him for a few seconds, before coming to my senses and asking if he needed any more help.
"No, thanks. I've got everything." Once again, the politeness caught me off guard. I had to find out more about this kid.
"Okay, then. I, uh, I guess I'll be seeing you?" What? What was that supposed to mean? Sometimes I say the stupidest things. He looked at me curiously, then smiled again (wow, what a smile) and nodded. I went back to my soup cans and he went to the checkout line. I watched as he laid the roses carefully on the conveyor belt and dug in his pockets for the money. The cashier, chewing gum and looking immensely bored, rattled off the price. The boy's face fell. He dug in his pockets again, a little deeper, more desperately. I sensed his problem but didn't know what to do about it. I chewed my lip for a few seconds, then decided to help. I made my way to the line.
"How much?" I asked the cashier. She looked at me like I was crazy, then rolled her eyes and gave the price again. I reached for my wallet, pulling out the money and handing the roses to the shocked boy. He took them automatically, staring at me like I was a ghost. I smiled at him, and he reluctantly smiled back.
"Thank you." He sounded close to tears, and I could see him working very hard not to cry.
"You're welcome. What's your name?" Before he could answer, a well-dressed man in a trenchcoat walked in, looked around, and came over to us.
"David? Everything all right?" He glanced at me as he said this. I looked at him, and tried to find any resemblence between the man (I assumed he was the father) and the boy. There was none. The man was slightly shorter than medium heighth, had light brown hair streaked with grey, and hazel eyes. His facial features were completely different, and though he didn't smile, I knew that it would be unlike David's.
"I'm fine. I didn't have enough money, so, um..." he trailed off looking at me.
"Morgan." I said.
"So Morgan paid for them. Everything's fine now." He stared into the man's eyes, and eventually the man nodded and looked up at me.
"Okay, David, if you say so. Why don't you go wait in the car for me?" David nodded and left. The man pulled me aside, pulling out his wallet as he did.
"Oh, no, sir, please. It was my pleasure, really." He looked at me doubtfully, then apparently decided I was telling the truth.
"Okay. I just want to thank you, Morgan, was it?, for doing this for David. You have no idea how much this means to him." He turned and walked out of the store, leaving me standing dumb by the checkout lines.
A few weeks later, I saw David come in again with his father. They headed for the greeting card section and, my curious nature prevailing, I followed. They were talking and laughing over the cards, apparently trying to find an appropriate birthday card for an admiral. (I had been right; the man's smile was nothing like David's. In fact, it looked more like a smirk than a smile.)
"What about this one?" The man picked one up and showed it to David.
"Nah. We need a funny one. I keep telling you, the Admiral is really a fun guy." His dad snorted.
"Look, David, when somebody breaks your nose, you don't usually think of him as a 'fun guy'." Broken nose? There was a story there, that's for sure.
"Okay, how about this one?"
"'Happy 75th...Grandpa.' Grandpa? Um, on second thought, let's go with the funny one." David laughed, and his laugh was like his smile: incredible. "I thought so." I stepped out from the rack I was hiding behind and asked if I could help. They looked up and greeted me.
"Hi, Morgan. How are you?" This from David.
"Fine, thanks, David. How are you?"
"Fine. Do you have any cards for someone who's like a grandpa, but isn't?" He gazed at me with those blue eyes, trusting and intense. I stared into those eyes for a second before turning to the card rack.
"Hm, I'm not sure...do you want a funny one or a serious one?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"A funny one. Right?" David looked at his father, who nodded reluctantly.
"And something that won't upset him." The man added quickly.
"Funny card for someone like a grandpa that won't upset him...here's one." I searched the rack and pulled one out for him.
"'It's your birthday...Break out the bran muffins and prune juice!' See, and cake and punch is crossed out. That's great! Thanks, Morgan." David seemed delighted with the card, his father was less enthusiastic.
"Do you think that a former SEAL would deck someone for calling him old?"
"Oh, come on. He's over that. I told you, he just likes to intimidate you." David reassured him.
"He sounds like a great guy." I said, uncertain.
"Oh, yeah, he's a laugh and a half." The man responded sarcastically. "David loves him though. He's been like a grandfather to him. I just had a rather unfortunate experience with him, oh, about twenty years ago."
"Yeah, the Admiral punched him 'cause he was being sneaky and putting people in the line of danger..." David suddenly clouded over, his lighthearted attitude disappearing. The man put his hand on David's shoulder and pulled David to him. David's shoulders shook silently, and his father put both his arms around him. I stood there, unsure of what had happened or what to do. The man looked at me as if to reassure me that it wasn't my fault and that I should just wait. David collected himself and turned, apologizing.
"Sorry, I get like that sometimes..." he paused. "All my grandfathers died before I was born. I guess that's why I'm so close to the admiral." I nodded, still hesitant, but understanding.
"There's Grandpa Frank," his father said.
"Yeah, but he's not the same. Besides, I hardly ever see him."
I continued to stand, shyly, in the middle of the aisle, apparently forgotten by David and his father. They finally looked up at me and asked if I could check them out.
"Sure, I guess. Let me find an open register." I walked down the lines, finally coming to an unmanned checkout line. I rang the card through and wished them a good day. They thanked me and left, leaving me as curious as ever about the boy called David and his mysterious father.
Years passed. I went to college and pursued a career as a school counselor. I returned to my old neighborhood and got a job at the local high school. I saw kids from all walks of life; kids from broken homes and kids from the healthiest homes imaginable. Then one day, a junior walked into my office for some advice and I almost fell out of my chair. I could never forget that face, those eyes.
"David!" I was shocked beyond belief. He didn't seem to recognize me at first, but then I saw it dawn on him.
"Morgan?" He whispered.
"Yeah, it's me. How are you?" I stared at him. He was now quite tall, probably 6' 4". His hair was the same, and his eyes...his eyes were still that piercing blue.
"I'm fine, how are you? I haven't seen you since I was, what, twelve?"
"Yeah. I'm fine, got a good job here. Have a seat. Now, what did you come in for?"
"Well, I need some advice about my classes. My Calculus teacher wants me in an AP Trigonometry class next year, but I can't fit it into my schedule. Can you help?" He looked at me with that same trusting look he'd given me four years ago.
"I'll try. Let's just get your schedule up here, there we go." I pulled his schedule onto the computer screen and we looked at it together. "Okay, AP Trig is first and third period. You have NJROTC and AP US Government. Are you willing to drop either one of those?" He shook his head vehemently. "Okay, we'll just have to rearrange these a little. Mmhmm, uh- huh, okay, there we go. Now you can drop either English, AP Physics, or Latin III. As far as credits go, you're fine, so just choose one of those."
"English," he said without hesitation.
"Okay, English it is. So, we're replacing English with AP Trigonometry. That okay?" He nodded.
"I don't really like English."
"Ah, of course. What do you plan on doing after high school?"
"Naval Academy, flight school, Tomcats," he responded quickly.
"Hmm. Need help with an appointment to the Academy?"
"No, thanks. I got it covered. You remember the Admiral?" I nodded and grinned. He smiled, too, and continued. "Well, he's really in with the new SecNav. Not in a bad way, they're just friends and the SecNav isn't real pushy like others have been. Anyway, so the Admiral's friends with the SecNav, not to mention a Congressman, so I'm okay there. Thanks, though."
"No problem. You got any more questions, or you just want to talk, you know where I am."
"Thanks." He smiled, and I was glad I was sitting down, otherwise my knees might have given out. He had grown from a mature young teen to a mature young man. He was not that much younger than me, and he was the nicest boy - man - I'd ever met. I got back to work, busying myself with other students, my mind never far from David.
Graduation day, class of 2024. David's class. I sat with the other school administrators, watching the seniors and the crowd of parents. I saw David's father and noticed that he had a tear running down his cheek. As the diplomas were given out, his face contorted and tears ran freely down his face. He was sitting next to an old, bald man in a navy uniform, a slightly younger black man, also in uniform, and a middle-aged blonde woman. All three were crying when David received his diploma. After the ceremony, I made my way over to David and hugged him.
"Congratualtions, David."
"Thanks, Morgan. I couldn't have done it without you." He looked at me with those eyes, and I almost collapsed. Those eyes would break hearts.
"David, do you want to introduce us to your friend?" A gruff voice spoke behind us. I turned and saw the bald man, as well as David's father and his other two companions.
"Yes, sir! Admiral, Uncle Sturgis, Aunt Harriet, this is Morgan. Morgan, this is Admiral Chegwidden, Admiral Sturgis Turner, and Commander Harriet Sims. Morgan is my counselor, but she's also my friend."
"Nice to meet you all. Nice to see you again, Mr..." I shook hands with all of them, pausing hesitantly at David's father. He looked confused.
"Webb. Have we met before?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. I believe it was about six years ago. The grocery store, the roses, the card?" I prompted. His eyes widened.
"That was you? Well, Morgan, it's very nice to see you again." he shook his head in disbelief.
"Your parents would have been proud, David." The Admiral spoke kindly. David nodded, tears running down his cheeks. Now I was confused. Wasn't his father right there? And...wait! The surname on David's school file was not Webb. What was going on?
"Thank you, sir."
"I wish they could be here to see you, David." Admiral Turner said. He hugged David tightly.
"They're watching over you, David. Just remember that." Commander Sims said, hugging David as well.
"Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me." He glanced around. "Where's James?"
"It's finals week in Rosslyn; they don't get out til next week. James really wanted to come, David." 'Aunt Harriet' said softly.
"Oh, right. I forgot. Oh, well, I'll go see his next week." He paused, then explained to me, "James is Aunt Harriet's son and we're like brothers. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bud were real good friends of my parents." I nodded, inwardly trying to figure this out. Were? Were David's parents dead? But his father...slowly it dawned on me: Mr. Webb wasn't his real father.
I accepted their offer to join them for a celebratory dinner. Talking and laughing our way through the meal, I learned more about David and his 'family'. The Admiral Chegwidden was a former SEAL, 'Uncle Sturgis' a former submariner. Mr. Webb had been in the CIA. This all impressed me, but what I really remembered was when the conversation turned to David's parents. They had both been killed when he was eight, leaving David in Mr. Webb's care. Aunt Harriet's husband, Bud, had also been killed. David's mother had been a Marine, his father a naval aviator. Both had turned to the law, becoming JAGs. They had met in a rose garden, put together by Mr. Webb and introduced by the Admiral.
"They had fallen in love within weeks of their first meeting," the Admiral told me, "but were too thick to realize it."
"They had their ups and downs over the next five or six years, finally becoming the best of friends. Then they figured out that they couldn't live without each other and got married." 'Aunt Harriet' contributed this piece, beaming with the memory. I could see a slight sadness behind her eyes, but she was a sweet, motherly type.
"They tried several times to have children and were starting to fear that they were too old. Then David surprised us all," 'Uncle Sturgis' told me. "She had a complicated pregnancy and delivered in the Admiral's office." At this, the Admiral sniggered.
"That office has seen its share of babies born. Look out, Sturgis." They all laughed, but the joke went right over my head.
"Before David, the Admiral delivered a Marine Corporal's baby in his office. That was after he delivered my first son," Harriet explained to my confused look. "Then my second. And third."
"Harriet works a little too hard sometimes." The Admiral put in, and this time I laughed with them.
David was, to my surprise, quite animated and involved in the conversation. After his 'episode' in the store those years ago, I had thought the subject of his parents was pretty much closed. I guess I was wrong. He pulled three pictures out of his wallet and handed them to me. I looked over them, trying to figure out what they depicted. The first was of a tall man standing with a very pregnant woman. The woman was tall (though not as tall as the man), blonde and blue eyed. It was an old photo, probably out of the sixties. They were gazing at each other with a look of pure love. The second photo was another old one, a black and white, of a young boy sitting in a fighter jet, his father looking at him proudly and protectively. The father appeared to be the man in the first photograph. The last photo was a relatively new one, probably only about twenty years old. It showed, like the first, a man standing with a pregnant woman. Though the man looked almost the same as in the first two, the woman was very different. She was shorter and darker skinned, with brown eyes and brown hair. The man was tall, with bright blue eyes and dark hair. I realized immediately where David had gotten his looks. He explained the snapshots.
"The first one is of my father's parents. The second one is my father and my grandfather, they were both fighter pilots. The last one there is of my parents, and of course, me." He became very quiet as I handed the photos back, thanking him for showing me. I was wrestling with myself, trying to decide if it would be too insensitive to ask how they had died. I lost my opportunity when the conversation took a lighter turn.
"Harriet, the boys coming up for the Fourth?" The Admiral asked.
"I think little AJ might make it, with Tracy and the twins. Mikey can't get off, but Catherine and Jason are coming. James and Scotty, of course, are still here."
"You have four sons?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered proudly. "And three wonderful grandchildren: Patrick, Mackenzie, and Jason. The twins are five and Jason is one."
"What do your sons do?" I was immensely curious about the people David obviously considered family.
"Well, little AJ is 25. He's not so little anymore. He works at a computer programming company. Mikey is 21 and a sonar operator on the USS Texas. James is 17, graduates next week, and he wants to go to Annapolis and flight school with David. Scotty is 13, almost 14, and in eighth grade. He's thinking about medicine, probably in the Navy." She ended with a smile, glowing with pride.
"Wow. That's some family. May I ask why AJ didn't go into the Navy?" I almost regretted asking, but my ever-curious nature got the better of me. Again. A faint shadow passed over her face and she hesitated for a moment.
"Well...twenty two years ago, when AJ was three, Bud...stepped on a land mine." She stifled a sob, quickly wiping her eyes and looking back up.
"It's alright, you don't have to tell me." I said hastily, not wanting to dredge up the past and ruin the happy evening. The Admiral, seated next to Harriet, put his arm around her shoulder.
"No, it's okay. I just...haven't talked about it for a long time." She paused to collect herself before continuing. "For a while, we didn't know if Bud would even live. He survived, but he lost his right leg below the knee. Recovery was...a trying time for all of us. Bud was impatient with his progress and I was a little overprotective. AJ was too little to really understand, but as he grew up he began to resent the Navy for placing his father in a place where that could happen to him. He went through a phase where he was angry at everyone and everything, especially the Navy. Bud and I explained to him about duty and serving your country, and it seemed to calm him down. But then, when he was fifteen, Bud...was killed." Tears ran silently down her cheeks, but she seemed determined to continue. "That was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. AJ refused to have anything to do with the Navy, or any military service, and estranged himself for awhile. Now, though, he's come back to us, though he still doesn't want to join." She was able to smile through her tears, and I thanked her for telling me. I was sorry to leave them after dinner. They were as close as any family I had ever seen; in fact, they were a family. I wished desperately that I had a family like them. Sure, my parents lived about a mile from my apartment and my brother about two, but I almost never saw them. I felt closer to David's family, whom I'd just met, than to my own. I sat in my apartment, staring at a wall and mulling over my thoughts for a few hours, then went to bed early. I had never realized how lonely I was.
I came home from a walk on July 1, going into my bedroom to change. I noticed a blinking light on my answering machine and played the message, continuing on to the bedroom. The voice stopped me in my tracks.
{Hi, Morgan. It's David. I was wondering if you wanted to join us for our annual Fourth of July celebration. We usually have a picnic lunch in the park and then go down to the waterfront for fireworks. If you want to come, call Aunt Harriet. She's in the phone book under Roberts. See you, I hope. Bye.}
I was elated. This would be my first proper Fourth celebration in years. I looked up Harriet in the phone book, dialing hurriedly in my excitement.
{Hello?} A young male voice answered, and I assumed it was either James or Scotty.
"Hi, is your mother home?"
{Yeah, just a minute.} I heard him call his mother in the background, and then Harriet's comforting voice came on. {Hello?}
"Hi, this is Morgan," I started.
{Morgan, dear! It's nice to hear from you! Are you calling about the Fourth?}
"Yes, David called and told me about it, and I'm not doing anything else, so if I'm still invited..."
{Don't be silly, of course you are! We'd love to have you. We'll meet at Headquarters at 1300, sorry, I mean 1:00. Let me get you directions...Okay, here they are. Do you have a pen?}
I copied down the directions, thanked her, and told her I'd see her there. I looked forward to the day like it was Christmas.
I woke up early on the Fourth, not sure what to do with myself for the five hours I had to spare. I decided to visit Arlington National Cemetery; I had never been despite living in Arlington my whole life. I walked the paths, gazing at the rows upon rows of graves and thinking about all the men and women who had given their lives for this country, for me. I was deep in thought when I felt a hand on my shoulder and instinctively whirled around, ready to flee. I relaxed when I recognized the young man: David.
"Morgan, what are you doing here?"
"Well, I'd never seen it, so I decided to come...pay my respects." I looked at him, a strange feeling in my stomach. "Why are you here?"
"I come every Fourth, and every November 13, to visit my parents." He was matter-of-fact, not emotional in any way. His face was a mask, but his eyes...his eyes showed the pain I had first noticed in them.
"Could you," I started, not sure if I should ask. "Could you show me?" I thought he would be offended, maybe even angry, but instead he just looked surprised.
"Uh, sure. No one's ever asked me that before. I'd like you to meet them." He gazed into my eyes, and I felt like I was drowning in the sea- blue of his. We were jerked out of the reverie by a pushy tourist shoving past us on his way up the path. David beckoned and I followed. He led me to a slightly newer area, where the marble was still white and the names still readable. He walked purposefully to two graves, side by side, and stopped. I came up softly behind him, reading the names. He began to speak.
"Hi, mom, hi, dad. How are you? I'm doing better. I graduated last month and I was appointed to the Academy. James is coming, too." He paused, tears running down his face, and took a deep breath. "I'd like you to meet someone. This is Morgan. Remember that year I told you I couldn't afford the roses, and so someone bought them for me? This is her. She's been helping me a lot the past couple of years, and she's almost part of the family now." He stopped again and appeared to be listening. Then he turned and looked at me, his green-blue eyes glistening. No words were needed. He started back toward the path but I lingered for a few moments. I felt something brush my cheek and realized I was crying, too.
I followed David out of the cemetery and he walked me to my car with three hours to go before the picnic. We stood awkwardly by my little VW, not knowing what to say but not wanting to say goodbye. Finally, David broke the silence.
"Um, I was going to go buy Scotty and the twins birthday presents. Do you," he stared at the ground, "Do you want to come?" He looked up at me, his eyes full of doubt, bracing himself against my denial.
"I'd love to," I said softly. He smiled and I had to hold on to the car door for support. "Hop in."
We drove around town, looking for a perfect gift. It gave us an opportunity to talk, really talk. I found myself listening more than talking and I learned even more about David.
"I was eight when my parents were killed, but I remember them like it was yesterday. My dad used to sit me on his lap and tell me stories about his dad, his flying years, and my mom. My mom would sit in the other chair and listen, smiling. When I got a little older, my dad took me up in his Stearman. 'He taught me to want to fly'. That's what he always said about his dad, and that's what he did for me. My mom, she was awesome. She would do mom stuff, like taking care of me when I was sick and making sure I always had clean underwear, you know. But then sometimes she would be all Marine. Once, I stole a candybar from a convenience store. I didn't really know it was wrong 'cause I was only six, but she chewed me out like a DI, then made me take the candybar back, apologize and pay for it. I never stole again." He paused, smiling a little at the memory. "My parents both had tough childhoods, especially my mom. She was pretty 'unprivileged', and her dad was basically a drunk. I don't think he ever hit her, but he beat up her mom and verbally abused her. Her mom ran off when she was fifteen. She became an alcoholic, and then married a real jerk. He got arrested on auto theft a few months later. My mom was in a car crash that killed her friend, and after that her uncle took her out into the desert and dried her out. She joined the Marines, like her uncle, and that really straightened her out. You'd've never guessed about her background just looking at her.
"My dad actually had it pretty good compared to my mom. He grew up in a middle-class family, his dad was a naval aviator and his mom was kind of a homemaker, I guess. But when he was six, his dad was shot down over Vietnam. Christmas Eve, 1969. He grew up on his dad's letter tapes, determined to find him someday and bring him back. He ran away when he was sixteen, went to Vietnam looking for his dad. He didn't find him, and after that it became kind of an obsession. He spent all his free time following leads which mostly turned out to be false. When he finally got a real 'tip', sort of by accident, he went to Russia to track it down. My mom, at this point still just his partner, followed him the whole way and was there when he found out that his dad had died twenty years before. That really tore him up, but I think it was good for him to finally find out. After that, though, he was kind of lost for a while. He had spent so much of his life trying to find his dad that his search had become part of him. After it ended, he didn't have anything solid in his life. Well, except my mom. She was always there for him, and he for her.
"They actually made a promise to each other when AJ was born that they'd have a baby together in five years if neither of them was in a relationship. Well, five years rolled around and they were both in a very serious relationship. They got married on May 18, 2004, AJ's fifth birthday. I came along two years later. Weird thing, too, James and I were born on the same day, both in the Admiral's office! We've been closer than brothers ever since. I think my parents would have left me with the Roberts, except that they were struggling a little already with four kids. They had in their will that Clay would be my guardian if anything happened. So he was, then he adopted me. He's great, but I still can't call him Dad. My dad was the same way. His mom remarried a few years after his dad went down. Grandpa Frank is a great guy, but Dad always called him Frank." He stared out the window for the rest of the ride. I don't think I offended him, I think he was just tired.
We arrived at the toy store and had a blast picking out presents for the five-year-old twins. We moved on to a bookstore, looking for a gift for almost-fourteen-year-old Scotty. David said he was into unexplained phenomena and extraterrestrial life, so we got him a book about the Bermuda Triangle. By the time we were finished, it was time to go to the picnic. David gave me directions, since I'd forgotten Harriet's at my apartment. I pulled up to the guard gate, not sure how we'd get in without ID. David, however, just leaned over and greeted the guard.
"Afternoon, Corporal Greer. Can my friend and I come in?" He flashed the corporal a smile.
"Go ahead, David." The guard opened the barrier, letting us into the parking lot. I pulled in and got out, staring at the large brick building. It was beautiful.
"Wow..." I whispered, awed.
"Yeah, it's something, isn't it? I practically grew up here." He took my hand and led me in, greeting the door guards in much the same way as he'd greeted the gate guard. "This is the bullpen," he explained to me. "Over there is Uncle Sturgis' office, and everyone else's is all around the perimeter. There's Aunt Harriet, let's go."
We walked over to Harriet, who was looking slightly frazzled but beaming all the while. She greeted David and me with a hug.
"Morgan! So glad you could make it! David, could you take her to Sturgis' office? We're just waiting on AJ and company."
David led me into a beautiful oak-finished room. The Admiral sat in a large leather chair behind a desk that matched the room. I was reminded of the Oval Office, somehow. A bunch of people were milling around, talking, waiting. Uncle Sturgis came up and greeted us. I again had the distinct feeling that I belonged. I saw Mr. Webb over in a corner, surveying the crowd. Other than that, I didn't recognize anyone. There was a 40s-ish man speaking to the Admiral. A woman stood close to him and I assumed they were married. Across the room was a similar aged man, chatting with a young woman holding a baby. Two boys were approaching us, one about David's age and one a bit younger. They looked almost identical.
"Hey, David! What's up?" The older one called, shaking David's hand and looking at me.
"Whose your date?"
"She's, uh, she's..." David stammered.
"Not his date." I finished for him. "You must be James, and Scotty. David's told me all about you. I'm Morgan." James stuck out his hand and I shook it, then Scotty's.
"Nice to meet you Morgan. If you're not his date, what brings you to our picnic?" His tone wasn't offensive, just curious.
"It's a long story, starting about five years ago. David came in to --" I started. I stopped when I saw Harriet appear at the door.
"Okay, everyone! We're all here now, so let's get going!"
We left the building, driving our own vehicles in a convoy to our destination. It was a beautiful spot; a grassy area shaded by cherry trees right on the Potomac. Harriet enlisted our help and we got the picnic blankets set up. After we ate, we sat and talked, watching Scotty play with his twin cousins. David introduced me to everyone.
"Tiner, this is my friend Morgan. Morgan, Master Chief Jason Tiner. And this is his wife, CPO retired Jennifer Coates." I shook both their hands, recognizing the couple that had been talking to the Admiral earlier. Next I met Lieutenant Commander Mikey Roberts, the elder. Apparently he was Uncle Bud's brother. After him came Catherine and Jason Roberts, wife and son of Petty Officer Mikey Roberts, the younger. The petty officer couldn't make it. Finally came the man about my age.
"Morgan, this is AJ Roberts. AJ, Morgan. This is AJ's wife Tracy and over there are their twins, Patrick and Mackenzie." I shook their hands, desperately hoping I could keep everyone straight. David seemed to sense my mounting stress. "Do you want to take a walk?" he asked. I agreed, grateful for the chance to relax a little. He told AJ we were going to take a short walk and helped me up off the grass.
We walked along the river in silence. It was a comfortable silence, though, not at all awkward. I had never been good at silence, it always made me nervous. But with David...it worked. We could just...be. After a little while, David looked at me like he was trying to decide something. Finally he asked softly, "Do you want to know how my parents died?"
I was a little surprised, but he looked at me with those eyes..."Only if you want to tell me," I responded. He did. He told me how it had happened, how he had heard, how he had felt. For the first time since I had met him, I saw tears flow freely down his face. I didn't know quite what to do but on impulse, I reached toward him and hugged him tightly. He thanked me and we continued on.
We reached a bend in the river, right underneath a huge cherry tree. Blossoms graced the ground all around it, making a ring - a ring of beauty and security. David took my hand and led me into the shadows, right up to the trunk of the tree. I turned to him and got swept off my feet by the look in his eyes. It was intense, it was pure, it was...love? A warm, wonderful sensation was spreading through my body, making me feel light as air. We leaned toward each other...and kissed. I have never liked that word. Kiss. It's so overused in today's society that it's practically meaningless. But this...this was indeed a kiss. Pure, untainted love flowed through it.
I have kissed other guys. With them, it was all the same. It wasn't bad, it just was. But with David...it went deeper than the physical. I was completely lost in him, but I was also completely myself. It was the strangest feeling I have ever experienced. I learned later that that is exactly what true love is - the truest sense of self perfectly intertwined with an understanding of your bond.
We pulled apart at the same time, gazing deep into each other's eyes, trying to read the other's thoughts. David smiled slowly at me, and I smiled back. No words were needed. We turned and headed back to the picnic area.
I went home from that picnic totally confused and at the same time more sure of some things than I had ever been. I knew that I had a family now, a family closer than blood ties could ever bring them. I also knew that I loved David. I don't think I had ever truly loved anyone before David. I was pretty sure he had the same feelings for me, judging by that kiss this afternoon. Past that point, I felt like someone had tossed my thoughts into a blender and pushed 'Frappe'. Completely exhausted, I went to bed early, still thinking about David.
I woke up earlier than usual, the sleep having cleared my head wonderfully. I got dressed and was about to make breakfast when someone knocked at my door. A little surprised and very wary, I opened the door slowly and cautiously. (I didn't have a peephole.) There stood David, a dozen roses in his hand, looking slightly unsure. He flashed a quick, heart-stopping smile though and handed me the roses. I took them, stunned and pleasantly surprised.
"Hi," he said softly.
"Uh, hi," I replied, snapping out of my stupor. "Come on in."
"Oh, no thanks. I just, well," he stumbled. Looking at his feet, then back at me, he continued in a rush. "Can I take you out to breakfast?"
I smiled. "I'd love to. Just give me a second to get ready." He nodded and I went back to my bedroom to put on some shoes. My heart felt like it was skipping every other beat and I felt an insane urge to giggle uncontrollably. I locked the door behind me and took David's hand.
Breakfast was great. To this day I cannot tell you what I ate, but I will never forget our conversation. It started out harmless enough. We talked about politics, school, careers. Then we moved into more dangerous waters. I guess I started it. It had been a pretty normal conversation about dating and exes when I decided to make a joke. Sort of.
"I mean, have you ever been in love?" I asked, half-laughing. I should have known better. David looked at me, through me, with those eyes and I felt my heart flip over. I suddenly realized what I'd said and felt sick. Great, I thought, here comes the end of a great friendship. What does he think I meant?
Then I realized that he wasn't looking at me like I was crazy, or like I had offended him in any way; he was seriously considering the question. My eyes widened and I went from "what did I say?" to "what will he say?"
He took a breath and I held mine. "Well," he started. "I'm not entirely sure I know what love is. But," he paused, framing his next words. I couldn't have been distracted by a stripper. "If it's what I saw in my parents, in Uncle Bud and Aunt Harriet, and what I feel for you, then...yes." His final comment came out in barely more than a whisper as he looked down at his hands and then back up at me. I was so elated that I didn't see his question coming. "What about you?"
Okay, that was fair. He'd just poured out his heart to me; the least I could do was respond. But how? Less is more, I thought. I just looked straight into those green-blue eyes and said, "Yes."
The look in his eyes was so shocked I almost laughed. I guess I looked about the same way: ecstatic, puzzled, startled. And he looked afraid. No, not afraid...cautious. A second later the look was gone and I dismissed it. The biggest question on my mind was, "What now?" I knew we couldn't get married until after he graduated from the Academy, and I figured that at this point that was a good thing. We needed to spend more time together, get to know each other more, form a plan of action. From the look on his face I could tell David was thinking much the same thing. We smiled tentatively and then he walked me back to my apartment, holding my hand the whole way.
That night I found it difficult to fall asleep. My mind was whirling with thoughts of David. I finally drifted off into a restless half-sleep and with the sleep came dreams. I saw a farmhouse, out in the country. A young woman stood on the porch, weeping silently. A baby slept soundly in her arms. A young sailor in a World War II uniform kissed her and the baby gently, then turned and walked down the road into eternity. The scene shifted. There was a different woman standing on a different porch. By her side was a small boy, no more than five. Her sailor was in a more recent-style uniform, I guessed around Vietnam. The sailor bent and ruffled the boy's hair, kissed the woman sweetly, then he walked down the road never to return. The scene changed again. This time, only a boy stood on the porch. He was older, perhaps eight. An older sailor and a woman in uniform hugged him tightly, then walked together down the road. They, too, did not come back. Throughout the whole dream I had known, in that way one knows in dreams, that the three sailors were three generations of the same family. I had seen no faces to this point, but the boy on the porch lingered. He turned, and I saw it was David.
Three years, Eleven months later...
(USNA Graduation Day, 2028)
I sat with the whole 'family', waiting for David to walk across that stage and shake the President's hand. He hadn't changed at all; he was still that dashing almost-flyboy that I loved. Finally, finally his name was called. As he stood and strode across the platform, his eyes searched the crowd. When they found mine, his ever-present grin subtly shifted. No one else would have noticed, except maybe Clay, but I knew David like no one else. He had several smiles: one to get in and out of trouble, one for his family, one for when he was really happy, and one for me. I know it sounds cheesy but it's true; I had watched him closely for four years and I had never seen him use that smile on anyone else. I smiled back as he shook the President's hand and walked back to his seat. I couldn't wait to see him up close again, even if it had only been since Christmas.
I had spent the past four years with the family, as I called them, while David was at the Academy. He came home on leave every few months, of course, and it was during those times that we talked and grew ever closer. In the meantime, I bonded with the family. I went to Scotty's school functions, Aunt Harriet's get-togethers, and the Admiral's golf tournaments. They all accepted me like I was one of them and I found myself becoming just that: one of them. James and Scotty became my brothers, Harriet my aunt, the Admiral my grandfather. I had my own family, of course, and I didn't break with them. But David's family became almost more real to me, like I had been living in a dream and had only just now woken up.
After all the graduates had finished, we made our way over to where James and David were standing with their fellow midshipmen-turned-ensigns. To my enormous shock, all 158 of them suddenly came to a stiff attention and saluted us. I was, to be honest, pretty scared. Then I saw the Admiral return the salute and understood. The Admiral was in full dress whites for the occasion, complete with two conspicuous stars on each shoulder and tons of 'scrambled eggs' on his cover. The new ensigns, of course, had just spent the past four years being drilled in respect for senior officers. I had grown so used to the Admiral (as a friend and in civilian clothes) that I often forgot about his rank.
After that little episode, David and James found us. Waving goodbye to their friends of four years, with the usual promises to write and call, they walked with us to our cars. We were going out, all together, for a celebratory dinner. Having not seen David in months, I was eager to talk and catch up with him. He seemed...distant, though. Almost distracted. I was about to ask him about it when he turned and graced me with a dazzling smile. I didn't forget about his strange behavior, but I pushed it aside for the moment. We had a great dinner, talking, laughing, and remembering. It reminded me of David's high school graduation dinner, where I had first really gotten to know him. Flooded with warm thoughts and happy memories, the family split up for the night and headed home. I started for my car but David held me back. Holding me with his eyes, he spoke.
"Could we, um, take a walk?" This struck me as strange. True, it was a warm summer night in Washington, but it was almost midnight and Washington is not known for its stellar criminal record. I also noticed the look in his eyes. Distracted, like he had been acting earlier.
"Er, it's kind of late, David," I responded, trying to get the reason out of him. No such luck.
"I know, but...I need to talk to you." Uh-oh. Not a good sign. Still, I decided to humor him. After all, it was a beautiful summer night and I wasn't a bit tired.
"Okay." He almost visibly relaxed. He was still distracted, or nervous, but he seemed to have cleared his first hurdle.
We walked down a couple of streets before breaking out into the open. Walking along the Potomac, I kept questioning David, trying to get an answer out of him. He didn't say a word. We stopped and I finally realized where we were: under the cherry tree where we had first kissed. Something like alarm bells were going off in my head. Were we breaking up? I had not seen this coming at all. I had thought we were doing fine. What happened? David took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Oh, boy, I thought. Here it comes.
"Morgan, we've been seeing each other for four years now. That's a pretty long time, you know, and well...I think we should stop dating."
I'm not the type to cry at every little thing; in fact, I hate to cry. But this...this was literally the worst moment in my entire life. I couldn't help it; my eyes filled and a tear slipped out. David looked bewildered at my response, then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
"Oh, my gosh! No, that's not what I meant. Ah, this is going all wrong. Look, Morgan, what I meant to say was...well, here I think this says it better."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. Now my eyes widened. He held it out and I took it hesitantly, not daring to hope. I opened it slowly, carefully; wanting to see and afraid to look. Finally it opened enough to where I could see a small glimmer of light. Abandoning all caution I flung the box all the way open and gasped. There sat the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever seen. Of course, that may have been because it was David giving it to me, but nevertheless...I looked up at David, hoping to confirm my wildest dreams. He was watching me nervously, judging my reaction, bracing himself for the worst. When I looked up at him he immediately dropped to one knee and said the five most wonderful words I'd ever heard.
"Morgan, will you marry me?"
I started to tear up again, this time from sheer joy. I leaped into his arms and all but shouted, "Yes!" If his relief was obvious, so was his shock. He stared at me, unconvinced.
"Really? You're sure?"
I laughed. "Yes, I'm sure! Are you trying to talk me out of it?"
His eyes lit up. He gathered me in his arms and we kissed like never before.
Six months later...
(December 12, 2028)
It was finally here. The day I'd been waiting for for six months - our wedding day. I had been making preparations with my mother and Aunt Harriet while David was at flight school. He had come back just a few days ago to Aunt Harriet's orders and directions. Great sport that he was, he just followed along without any questions. Ours was to be a military wedding, so the guys' clothes were taken care of, but dresses still needed to be bought, decorations planned, and a church rented. Not to mention finding a place for the reception, making a guest list, and on and on. I was starting to wonder if we shouldn't just elope.
But the day finally came and I saw the end of all our hard planning. A light snow the night before had coated the church with a Christmas-card icing without messing up the roads too much. The inside was gorgeous, all white roses and lace. I was almost immediately shuttled away into a back room for last minute touch-ups. Aunt Harriet was fawning over me, adjusting this and picking at that. My mother was no better. She sat in the corner, staring at me and crying her eyes out. I couldn't take it anymore. Claiming nature's call, I fled the room and stood in the hallway taking deep breaths. I was about to go back in and face them again when I heard voiced coming from one of the other rooms. My ever-curious nature kicked in and a crept over to see what it was about. I recognized David's voice and also...Clay's. My ear pressed to the door, hoping no one would walk by and see me, I was able to make out their conversation.
"David, I can't tell you how happy I am for you. Morgan is a wonderful girl and you two are perfect for each other. Oh, you look just like your father did on his wedding day..." I heard a sniff.
"Clay? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's just...I never told you this but...I loved your mother. She never felt the same way about me; she loved your father. But I always held out hope...The day they got married was the day I knew I'd lost her. I was happy for her, of course, but I was so jealous of your father...When you were born I was elated for her but crushed that you weren't mine. Raising you brought me closer to your mother than I ever could have been..." He broke off in a sob.
"I already knew that. You didn't have to tell me; it was in the way you talk about her, the way you look at her picture. I understand...Dad."
I gasped, then, not wanting to be discovered, retreated back to the brideroom. David had told me long ago that he could never call Clay 'Dad'. I wondered what had changed. Perhaps he felt a deeper connection with Clay after his little confession. I wanted to think about it more, but it was almost time. I was getting nervous.
I had no doubt of my love for David, or of his for me. The problem I had was with the dream I'd had years ago. The one where I'd seen David's great- grandfather, grandfather, and both parents die early. I don't believe in curses, but those kind of statistics (which had been verified by David later) make you wonder. I knew David's job would be dangerous: flying fighter jets is no cake-walk. I also knew that the Navy was not careless with their personnel. The Admiral had been a SEAL, Uncle Sturgis a submariner. They were safe and had lived long, full lives. Even Clay, in the CIA, had survived to bring up David. My uneasiness lingered.
I walked nervously to the door with my father. I watched nervously as my brother, Mikey Roberts II, James, and Scotty filed in. I watched nervously as my sister-in-law, Catherine Roberts (Mikey's wife), Aunt Harriet, and Sydney Callahan (a good colleague/friend of mine) sashayed to the altar, taking their places opposite the groomsmen. I watched nervously as Jason Roberts (Mikey's son) traipsed down the red carpet, holding a pillow importantly in front of him. I watched nervously as Mackenzie Roberts (AJ's daughter) and my niece stepped delicately between the pews, tossing rosepetals everywhere.
Finally it was our turn. I heard the bridal march begin and thought I might throw up. Stepping into the sanctuary with my father, I could finally see the whole scene. David stood at the altar, resplendent in his dress whites and even more handsome than ever. Looking into his eyes I wondered how I could ever have doubted this moment. And yet, I still did. My father gave my hand to David and we stepped closer to the pastor. Unable to look directly into David's eyes anymore, I scanned the audience. In the back of the sanctuary, standing in the shadows, I saw someone. It looked like it might be a couple, possibly in uniform, but I couldn't be sure. Thinking this might be part of the military ceremony, I tried to ignore them. But something wouldn't allow me to let them go. Just after my vows and before David's, I turned back. I heard David next to me repeating the pastor's words. I squinted, trying to see them better.
What happened next, I'll never be sure. A bright light, like a camera flash, exploded in my eyes. I kept my eyes on the couple at the back. After the stars cleared from my vision, I tried to see who they were. They were gone, leaving no evidence as to their identity. I only saw one thing in the flash: a glint of gold on the man's chest. A glint that looked almost like...wings.