Chapter 2: The Letter
Disclaimer: owns Twilight
Two weeks after the wedding, I was still chewing on Angela's edict. Chewing, and chewing—it was so hard to swallow. But then, a letter came in the mail from Maria. Setting things in motion, it read:
Dear Bella,
I hope life's treating you well. How are you doing in your classes? You lucky dog, must be nice walking on a campus full of sunshine. Going to school at Washington State is WET. It's raining, and hasn't let up for days. Maybe I should transfer to ASU, huh?
My sister got engaged last Tuesday. We're all excited about it. She's the first one in our family to tie the knot. About time too; she's twenty-seven.
More news about a certain guy. Now, don't cringe. Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but what the hell ... Jacob will be coming home for r & r next month. He'll be here for 15 days, just in time to celebrate Billy's fiftieth birthday.
The party will be on the 16th. By Billy, I mean Jacob's dad. It's a big deal. Billy would be chief of our people, if we still held onto that tradition.
I wish you could be here. Jacob still asks about you. I'll bet he'd love to see you too (I couldn't resist). I still think you two would make a great couple. By the way, have you broken up with that James guy? No offense, but he sounded like trouble. If he was out of the way, you and Jake could be together as soon as he finishes his tour. Hint, hint ...
Well, better go. I've got a stupid term paper due this week. Yuk!
Write soon,
Your friend,
Maria
It was now or never. The semester would be over soon, and there would be a break before the next one. How ironic, I'd be going to see him in December, the month when all this heartache started. Would he really be glad to see me, or would it just reopen old wounds? Gosh, this was a whole month away, and already my butterflies were churned up.
Renee was standing over me as I sat at the table finishing up some homework. "Are you crazy? Why would you waste your time going to some poverty-stricken reservation in Washington State? If you're so desperate to see one, there are plenty of them around here. Gila River isn't that far away.
"Think about it ... You'd have to drag Michel with you, not to mention you'd need warm clothing, gas and food. Where are you going to get the money for all these expenses?"
The pen dropped from my hand in frustration. "Mom—stop! I'm twenty years old. I know what I'm doing. I have to go. If it's a big mistake, then it's a mistake. You can say, I told ya so, when I get back. Geesh, if I had known you were going to react like this, I wouldn't have told you about it."
Mom walked to the opposite side of the room, genuinely agitated. Banging cupboard doors, and taking down pots and pans to prepare dinner, she continued her tirade. "Mark my words, young lady; no good is going to come of this. You should never have begun writing to him in the first place. And another thing ... what kind of person would start up with someone knowing that she had a boyfriend at the time?"
My ire was up now. "And what kind of mother would go through a daughter's personal belongings and destroy her love letters?"
Renee leaned over the counter, staring into the pan setting there. Then, suddenly she slammed the pot onto the surface. "Love letters—what right did he have to send you love letters? Unless ...To think ... my own flesh and blood, leading that boy on. You did, didn't you?"
The chair scratched the floor as I pushed it away from the table, and stood. "I. Did. Not! I don't know why he fell in love with me. I didn't encourage him in the least. Anyway, this trip would be unnecessary if you had kept your hands out of my dresser. You were also the one that made me stop writing, so now I feel it my responsibility to apologize—to set things straight. He didn't deserve to be treated like that."
I heard Mom's tongue click.
"Well, you're not going, and that's that."
Just watch me! I picked up my books and papers and carried them to the living room. "Adios. The air in here is suffocating."
The couch squeaked under my weight as I sunk onto the cushion. Charlie walked through the front door at that moment. With his mouth contorted in a frown, he took off his jacket, slinging it onto his lazy boy. "What's the matter, kitten?"
I looked up, my face probably still flushed with anger. "One word—Mom."
"Is that all? You should be used to it by now. So, may I ask what the discussion was about this time?"
"Well, remember that boy from La Push—the one that I used to write to?"
Charlie sat across from me, moving his jacket to the side as he did so. "I remember; what about him?"
"I've been considering ... about going to see him during semester break. I need to tell Jacob how sorry I was for not explaining my situation to him. What do you think?"
"I think you're old enough to make your own decisions. I might add, what you're doing is very commendable. It takes a lot of courage to admit when you're wrong. I wish the boy didn't live so far away though."
"Me too. Thanks, Dad."
My dad shrugged. "What's a father for?"
He smiled, then turning his head, yelled over his shoulder. "Hey, honey, I'm home. What's for dinner?"
JPOV:
For once, I had a good night's sleep, but the next day didn't start off to be very promising. Right outside the CHU, Metcalf was waiting for me.
"Today good for you, Scrapper? C'mon, I'm dying to cut you down to size. You're a little too big for your britches." He removed the cigarette from his lips and dropping it, crushed it under his boot.
Jeez, I was not in the mood. "I don't wanna fight you, Metcalf. I've got work to do. Maybe some other day, huh."
"What's the matter, lost your nerve?"
"No, I just think that being officers, we should act like officers, and settle our differences some other way."
Bull took a step forward, trying to intimidate me. He didn't have to—I knew what pain he could inflict with his iron fists.
His big face was scrunched up into an ugly scowl. "Now see, this is why I don't like you. You're a smart ass. You have an answer for everything. Well, here's my answer."
Bull suddenly lunged at me. He was stocky, and powerful, but I was a head taller and more agile. Lucky for me, he missed my face with that first blow. Unluckily, the next one connected. Hooh boy, that guy could throw a mean punch. My face would be stinging for hours.
I got in a few good licks myself. Meanwhile, Already was trying to pull us apart. By then, a crowd started to gather, cheering us on. Great—they were chanting our names. What the hell ...? The bloodthirsty spectators were happy to see us annihilate each other.
I couldn't get him off me. Finally, a couple of MPs broke up the fight, and hauled us off to a dressing down by Captain Fairfax.
The captain was pacing, looking down at the floor. "So ... you two want to fight, huh? You know, there is an enemy out there, beyond Warhorse." He looked up into our battered faces at that point, and shouted, "But we can't fight them, if we're fighting among ourselves. You got that?
"You are both grounded for a week. I'm putting the two of you on work detail. You're going to work side by side—and like it. Sergeant Crowley can use your help maintaining the helos."
At least it was something I enjoyed. "Thank you sir. I'm good with mechanical equipment."
Bull muttered under his breath, "Of course you are. Damn show off!"
The captain's eyes narrowed. "What was that, Lieutenant?"
"I said, of course he could show me how."
"All right then, you two battling idiots are dismissed."
We performed a salute and cut, but before I got to the tent flap, the captain grabbed my arm. "I changed my mind. Metcalf is dismissed, you are not."
Doing an about face, I stood at attention. Bull snickered and continued out into the open.
The captain's intense eyes were glued to mine. "At ease. Look, Scrapper, it's bad enough I have to see the men squabbling among themselves, but I never thought I'd have you in here. Please tell me you didn't pick a fight with that brute."
"No sir, I did not."
"Maybe you can help me out, then. Seems I get a lot of complaints about Metcalf, but no one ever gives me the whole scoop. Now fess up—tell me what's going on. I promise whatever's said stays in this room."
"Metcalf's a bully, sir. The men are afraid of him. He was a boxing champion, you know. He picks on the little guys, or those he's jealous of, namely me and my friends from La Push. I guess we made too good an impression during basic training. Anyway, he didn't like something I said recently, and jumped me for it today. I tried to avoid a fight, but he wouldn't have it ... and here I am . . . sir."
"I'm putting this incident in my report, but I'll keep your name out of it, so it won't go on your record. In the meantime, try to stay out of his way, huh? Now, get goin'; Crowley's waiting for you."
The captain and I saluted again, and I was on my way to get cleaned up and then on to see my new work assignment.
Crowley was pretty easy going, like me, so it wasn't hard to get the job done. I whistled or talked alongside the mechanic. Bull, though, got through the day with a few grunts. I guess he communicated more with his knuckles than anything else.
Working with the sergeant was enjoyable, but it was still punishment. Keeping me from sitting in my Black Hawk's pilot seat was pure torture. You better believe I would watch my mouth around Bull from now on. The captain couldn't have doled out a more severe sentence.
I was chompin' at the bit to get back on that cyclic, and those sticks, and those familiar pedals. Mac greeted me on my first day back, handing me a foil-wrapped piece of Wrigley's as I hopped onboard. "Welcome back, kid. Strap up, and let's give 'em hell."
It was great soaring through the wide blue yonder once again. The whole shift that day wasn't so shabby either. We waltzed in and out of the LZs—ass and trash runs, mostly. Only took a few hits too. We got home just in time for chow and the mail delivery. And damn if I didn't have a letter waiting for me. It was from Maria.
Forget about dinner! I was more hungry for news from home. I grabbed my letter and took it with me to the CHU, so I could devour it in private. Already was still out with Smokey, so I had it all to myself.
Maria always wrote long letters, full of detail. My dad wrote too, but it wasn't the same. Women seemed to have a knack to say what we men needed to hear. She wrote about her sister's upcoming wedding, her studies at WSU, her new garden, and described the car she bought. The description was so vivid, I could practically hear the engine turn over. I couldn't help smiling as I read, until I came to the last paragraph:
I just wrote to Bella Swan. She's still living at home with her parents at the same address. She sounds pretty lonely. I hope you don't mind, but I told her you were coming home on leave. Maybe you two can get together, and I told her as much. I think I did the two of you a favor, seeing as you're both too stubborn to admit you're in love with each other. You can pay me later.
Well, that's it for now—stay safe, and don't volunteer for anything for crying out loud.
Your friend,
Maria
Jeez—did she have to mention her name? And I was having such a good day too. I put the letter back in the envelope, and lay back on my cot. Flickers of long ago memories burst in flashes across my mind—dancing in the Bx, the ride in the bus as we headed toward the officers' club. I remembered the smell of her light perfume, the way she felt in my arms, and hooh boy, the way she kissed me. That was the kiss that woke up my long dormant heart. I could almost taste her lips; they were like a sun kissed strawberry, newly picked from the summer garden. It lingered all this time even though we were miles apart, physically and emotionally. Then like a knife cutting through my soul, I thought about the day we got on board the buses to our separate homes, and the last letter I received from her. The scar across my heart was flayed open, the pain as fresh as the day I realized she wasn't coming back to me.
Maria couldn't know what misery her last words cost me. I wished that Already would return soon, so I could distract myself again, but it would be hours 'til his helo reached the base. So I was alone with my thoughts, brimming with the vision of her, and the sound of her voice. I drifted off at some point, the envelope falling from my hand onto the bedding.
