Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, this chapter gave me huge writer's block :'( Special thanks to LittleGirlPhoenixand Jodee for telling me that the new format was hard to read! I had no idea and I wish they would've said something earlier! So back to the old format it is!
Disclaimer: I own nothing :'( not Army Wives, not the characters, not even Lake Greenwood…it's a real place :) I googled SC campsites!
It was an early Saturday morning in South Carolina; brisk but not chilly, bright but not sunny, the perfect kind of weather for Colonel Frank Sherwood's plans.
Silence decorated Ft. Sherwood, not even a cricket's chirp could be hear at this early hour. The blonde Colonel rose from bed at 0300 and quickly prepared for his adventure. Not even bothering to slip anything over his boxers, the man wandered through his home in the early morning with one destination on his mind. His long muscled legs carried him up the stairs and down the hall, to his sleeping son's room.
Quietly, a strong arm tore open the wooden door, revealing his slumbering nineteen year old son. Private Jeremy Sherwood laid in bed, semi-peacefully for once not tossing around viciously. Frank almost felt bad for what he was about to do…almost.
Walking into the room silently, Frank switched the light panel on, filling the room with soft light. Although Jeremy was a light sleeper the new illumination wasn't quite enough to wake him. The Military Man stood up straight in front of his son's bed, almost straight enough to be at 'attention'. Frank gently tugged the covers off his son, effectively waking the Army Private. In response Jeremy rolled from his back to his stomach. He had been told once that if a bear attacks you, you're supposed to play dead and they'll go away and that seemed to be his best plan of action. Though it was probably wishful thinking, because Jeremy knew his father was smarter than the average bear.
"Morning, boy. Up and at 'em." Frank said, poking his nineteen year old's tattooed back. Jeremy let out a low moan.
"Mmmhh….Stop poking me…Dad it's three in the morning. And you sorta just interrupted the best night's sleep I've had in weeks." Private Sherwood groaned, shrugging the Major's hand away from his back. He pulled the covers back over himself.
"I know that, boy. Now come on, gotta get up. We have plans." Frank pulled the covers back down. He almost chuckled, Dee wasn't a morning person either. Yup, Jeremy definetly wasn't Private Sunshine.
"What plans could we possibly have at 0300?"
"Member that camping trip you asked me to take you on?"
"The one from when I was twelve?" His dark brown eyes opened, completely shocked that his Old Man was dragging him out of him warm bed at 0300 because of a camping trip he wanted seven years ago.
"Yeah…well, you and me both got time and I figured it's 'better late then never' and all. We leave for Lake Greenwood this morning and get back Monday morning. The LeBlancs, Roland, and Moran's boy are tagging along. Michael couldn't make it, he's been dying to see the fishing action down in Greenwood for months but he can't get off work."
"Can't it wait a couple hours?"
With one soft chuckle, he gripped the bottom of the mattress, roughly pulling it upwards and tipped it over, effectively throwing his son on the floor.
"Nope. Now hit the showers, boy. Then get your gear together, we're roughing it Army style. And you might wanna leave a message on Emmalin's voicemail, so she won't worry."
Lake Greenwood, one of the biggest state parks in South Carolina had plenty of open camp grounds this morning. Deep green ever wood's decorated the horizon, leaving patches of cloudless blue sky above their heads. The birds were chirping, the frogs were hoping, and the bees were doing….well they were doing whatever it is they do.
Ohhh yes, Colonel Frank Sherwood was a man who loved the great outdoors and Lake Greenwood, it seemed, was the greatest of the great outdoors. The smell of forest pine, the cool mountain air, and the warm sunshine on his skin was enough to get the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Sure he spent months out of the year, stationed in a tent out in the dessert but that was hardly camping. There wasn't any fishing or swimming, or tree climbing at work but there sure was at Lake Greenwood, all of which where how Frank and his companions spent the morning.
The camp was assembled and now fully functional. A tent for Frank and Jeremy, a tent for Roland and Trevor, and a tent for Lucas, TJ, and Finn. Everything was going as planned, the fire pit was being assembled for tonight's cookout. Frank couldn't be more pleased.
"Not to sound like the odd man out… but do I stack these in a triangle or just pile them together?" Roland asked Frank, attempting to make a fire pit. The poor Chicago doctor had never been to the "great outdoors" and he was honestly not finding what was so great about. There was mosquitoes and dirt, and he felt like a retard since he couldn't even figure out how to make a fire. Honestly, he knew seven year old boy scouts that could make fires blindfolded.
"Whichever you prefer." Frank shrugged. A knife in his hand was being used to gut the trouts that had been caught fishing earlier.
"I'm from Chicago…I don't know what I prefer." Dr. Burton admitted, slightly embarrassed to admit this to the Colonel.
"They don't camp in Chicago?" Frank chuckled, putting down his current fish to look at the good doctor.
"You've never been to Chicago have you?" Roland laughed as Frank kneeled down next to the fire pit to lend a hand.
"I don't wanna be the odd man out…" The Colonel quoted from earlier.
"How are you and Jeremy doing lately, Frank? I'm guessing that's what this whole trip is about." the Army Husband asked as he passed Frank a long, thin piece of wood.
"Well…he prefers Emmalin to his ol' man." Frank shrugged. Things had been rough between them in the communication department now that they stopped attending counseling together with Dr. Burton. Frank and Jeremy had always had a hard time talking, especially since the Colonel had spent so much time away from home when Jeremy was little. And when he had been home Frank hadn't always been there to talk too, he'd been a drill sergeant and hard to be around. Frank would give anything to go back for a second chance.
"Naturally." Roland teased, impressed as Frank effortlessly light a fire. Okay…he might have been a little bit jealous that he hadn't been able to figure out the campfire.
"Whenever I try to talk to him, it just seems like neither of us knows what to say." the Blonde sighed, glancing across the campground to where his son was. Jeremy was teaching Lucas Moran how to rope together a net for crawdad catching.
"You can talk about whatever, just as long as you're talking." explained Roland, who was pulling a can opener from his knapsack. Roland knew from personal experience that the Sherwood men couldn't talk about their feelings to save their darn lives.
"But I…and he…I don't think he wants to talk to me, Roland. Neither one of us has ever been good with words." Frank struggled to describe the situation to Roland.
"Crap…it's raining!" Trevor LeBlanc called from across the campsite. Thick rain drops began to pelt from the sky, quickly getting bigger in the three seconds it took everyone to respond.
"Everyone to their tents! Before it starts to pour!" Colonel Sherwood shouted above the loud thundering. The remaining camper's followed suit and made their way quickly to their tents, which thankfully happened to be waterproof.
Frank held open the tent flap as he and Jeremy stepped into the camo-colored vinyl, taking refuge from the weather. As the blonde pulled the zipper shut, the rain began to fall outside as heavy as a speeding semi-truck. The Colonel turned to see the dim outline of his son stripping out of his wet clothes and into fresh ones, his back turned.
"It's raining." Frank suggested, a pathetic attempt at starting a conversation with the nineteen year old. Wordlessly the blonde flipped on a battery-powered lantern, filling the tent with soft illumination. The new lighting revealed his son in dry, faded blue jeans and a soft blue hoodie.
"Yes, Sir." Private Jeremy Sherwood replied. His father had been acting weird all day and that three A.M. wake up call was only the beginning. Frank had been giving him strange looks since they left for Lake Greenwood that morning.
"Sooo…how are you?" Frank questioned. He never said the right thing at the right time. The Colonel knew he and his son were constantly treading on thin ice with each other. Was it wrong that he was slightly jealous of his wife's way with words? Denise had always been the good communicator.
"Umm…wet?" Jeremy suggested, pulling a dry shirt over his head as he spoke.
"Ohh…me too."
"Yeah."
"I meant how are you…erm, feeling and crap?" Okay, okay so he wasn't the most sensitive give on the planet.
"Ummh…why do you ask?" The nineteen year old asked. He turned his head to look at his father. Was this a trick question? What the hell was his father getting at?
"Just curious is all." Frank answered, running a hand over his fair hair.
"What's this all about, Dad?" Jeremy sighed, trying not to lose his temper.
"What da ya mean, boy?" Frank raised a brow.
"What's with the game of 20 questions you keep trying to play? What's with this sudden camping trip? What do you want from me?" Raising his voice so he could be heard over the loud storm.
"I just…wanna talk to you, boy? You're a man now and….and I feel like I don't know the first thing about you." Frank admitted shrugging. He felt guilty and like an ass. God, he'd give anything for a do-over.
"What's this about?" Jeremy asked, more confused then ever. What was with his father's sudden interest in him? He paced the tent floor quietly waiting for his father's response.
"I was with Trevor the other day and he knew everything about those two boys, Finn and TJ, and they're not even really his. And I sat there and I didn't even know half that stuff about you and you're mine… He knew their favorite colors." Frank couldn't keep his eyes off the floor or the sleeping bags, anywhere but his son. He almost couldn't stand to face the nineteen year old. Frank could lead a platoon like no one else but he felt to ashamed to look his son in the eyes?
"Blue." the Private said simply.
"Come again?" He asked confusedly.
"My favorite color is blue. I like sports. I have a temper and hate talking about my feelings. I can't cook, I suck at laundry and stuff…" Jeremy suggested, running his hand over his dark buzz-cut. His old man had never acted like this before.
"I always liked blue…what's your favorite movie?" Frank smirked, patting the spot on the tent floor next to him. Jeremy reluctantly sat next to his father, close enough to show that he was making an effort but far enough that he couldn't be touched.
"The Godfather." Jeremy shrugged. The Godfather was a classic, no argument."
"Last time I checked, you were four and your favorite movie was 101 Dalmatians. I swear to God, you and I must've watched that video 101 times." Frank chuckled, pulling his shoes off and tossing them near the rest of his stuff.
"We did?" His eyes widened in disbelief. Jeremy couldn't remember that.
"Yeah. You and I sat on the couch in our P.J.'s for three whole days one time. God, your mother was so upset at me for it. I had just got leave and I spent my first three days home with you watching 101 Dalmatians." The Colonel explained, changing into dry clothes. When he finished he made sure to close the distance between him and his son.
"I don't remember…I can't remember you at all from when I was little." The Private felt a little more than guilty admitting this.
"I was gone a lot." It was Frank's turn to feel a little more than guilty now.
"I know." the Military Man agreed.
"If I could go back-" the Blonde started, before being cut off.
"Don't." He didn't want to hear it. It was too late and he didn't want to hear any 'would've, could've, or should've' s.
"It's just-" Frank tried again.
"Don't." Jeremy was determined to get the last word on this one.
"Okay." Frank took in a deep breath, "If you had gone to college, what would you have been?"
"An architect." Jeremy was great at math and he was good at drawing.
"I always knew I was gonna be in the Army. I wanted something better for you, boy. I wanted you to have a great job, one that didn't take you away from your family constantly-" Frank sighed, before once again being cut off by his son.
"Don't." He didn't want to hear anymore about how his father he fucked up his life by turning down WestPoint. He didn't want to go to WestPoint, and he didn't want to talk about not going to WestPoint.
"Okay…tell me more. Just…anything, anything I should know about you but don't." Frank requested, studying his son thoughtfully.
Jeremy looked like Denise, Frank thought. Well mostly, if Frank squinted he could see a little bit of him in his son too. They had the same eyes, and broad shoulders, and the same big feet. Upon further inspection he noticed that Jeremy preferred to sit 'Indian-style' just like him. They both were left handed, they both ran their hands through their hair when they were nervous or didn't know what to say, both had awful tempers, and they both never knew what to say. Laughing Frank realized that his son was just like him.
"My favorite food's lasagna, I get really bad heartburn all the time, I like the Army but I don't like hurting people or seeing people get hurt, I think it's morally wrong to put ketchup on a hot dog…" Jeremy started. He was dead serious about that hot dog thing too.
"Me too. I hate that. I'm prejudice against telemarketers, the damn S.O.B.s, I was born in Colorado and I get heartburn too. I keep a bottle of Tums in my glove box in the truck and another one in my desk at work." He smirked.
"I used to keep Tums in my locker back in high school." Jeremy chuckled.
"How are you and Emmalin?" Frank asked, before any awkward silence could engulf the tent like a thick blanket of fog. Frank handed Jeremy a bottle of water
"I don't think we should talk about her." the nineteen year old said, taking the bottle from his father.
"Why?"
"She's the Post Commander's daughter and…it's probably not a good idea for us to mention that." He didn't think there was any way his father could listen about his relationship with his boss's daughter and not end up in a fight over it. He loved Emmalin and he couldn't stop telling his friend's about her, but the solider didn't want to talk with his father about her.
"I wanna hear about her." The officer insisted, slugging his son playfully on the shoulder.
"What do you wanna know?" He caved, figuring that if he didn't tell his father about the seventeen year old then they'd have a fight anyway.
"Everything, boy." Frank was looking for much, just whatever Jeremy was willing to give. Roland always said that it was important to take baby steps.
"I love her. I suck at telling people I love them, and she's the only girl I've ever been in love with. So…I love her." Jeremy shrugged. He didn't know what was off limits to talk about in this subject matter. They had never talked about girls before. Denise had been the one to give him the gory 'Birds and the Bees' speech.
"Are you sleeping together?" Frank asked, reaching for a handful of trail mix from a Ziploc baggie in his knapsack.
"No." Jeremy said simply…but if he was being honest he would've said that he thought about it constantly.
"So…how far have you gotten then?" Frank passed Jeremy the trail mix, smiling when he saw his son grimace and start picking out the raisins. He hated raisins too, Dee loved them.
"Can we even talk about this?" Jeremy groaned, his hand sliding through his hair again.
"I don't see why not?" He shrugged, pulling socks on his feet. He always had cold feet. He had always had big feet, big cold feet. Looking over at the ankles peeking out of Jeremy's jeans, he saw big giant feet that mirrored his own.
"Umm…can I plead the fifth?"
"Hmm…fine but I getta ask you any question I want and you have to answer it?"
"Sure."
"Do you resent me? You know as your father and all. If you could trade dads with someone, would you?" Frank inquired, his voice soft.
"I…I don't know." Jeremy said reluctantly.
"Sure you do." He sighed.
"Sometimes I resent you… but I wouldn't trade dads." Jeremy admitted, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I don't blame you. I feel like I failed you, boy." the Colonel granted. He patted the nineteen year old's shoulder gently.
"You did… You weren't there when I needed you. You weren't there to teach me to shave or show me how to ride my bike or stuff. You didn't come to any of my sports games or teach me about girls. And when you were there you didn't act like my father." Jeremy's mouth was set in a firm line. They had problems sometimes…err, all of the time but they loved each other. Without a doubt in his mind, Jeremy knew his father loved him.
"I acted like a drill sergeant… I'm sorry, you know." Frank stuttered, "…And I'm the one that taught you all you know about sports, boy. I went to one of your Little League games and your mother gave me a lifetime ban." Frank chuckled, smiling at the memory.
"Mom banned you from my baseball games?" His voice filled with questioning. That didn't sound like something his mother would do.
"Yeah…there was this umpire that kept fouling you for no reason and…I sorta threw a cherry snow cone at his face. Let's just say I hit the bull's eye." That was honestly one of Frank's most shameful deeds. Losing his bad temper like that wasn't his proudest moment.
"You threw your snow cone at an umpire?"
"Not just any umpire, an umpire that was my superior officer and the FRG Leader's husband. His wife assigned your mother to wear the clown suit, big red nose, rainbow afro and all, for the annual FRG Carnival for two years after that. I swear Dee's never forgiven me!" Frank laughed. That was one of the two times Denise had made him sleep on the couch during their twenty year marriage. The other time was when he told her father to 'suck it'.
"I don't remember any of that." Jeremy chuckled, a small smirk dangling off his lips.
"You were really little, five or six. You said you hated me once, you remember that?" Frank asked.
"Nope." He shook his head. Jeremy could never remember telling either of his parents that he hated them. Jeremy had never once thought that he hated his mother or father.
"God, I remember like it was yesterday. Ahh, you were three years old and I was taking you to a doctor's appointment, we were in my old truck and you looked at me and said 'Dad, I think I might hate you' and I looked at you stunned and asked why, and you said 'Because whenever you go away, you make Mommy cry. I don't wanna see Mommy sad anymore.' and woo doggies, did I feel like the biggest asshole on the face of the planet." Frank reminisced, slugging his son playfully on one broad shoulder.
"What'd you do?" Jeremy asked, slugging his father back gently.
"I bought you dog."
"I had a dog? I've always wanted a dog."
"Yeah, you did even back then but you're mother and I wouldn't let you have one because we moved around so much." the Officer laughed, "But I brought you this little chocolate lab puppy home and you were just so happy. You named him Bandit and taught him to play fetch or well tried to teach him to play fetch, you were only three at the time. And then your mother found out why I got you Bandit and she made me get rid of him. Said that buying your love wasn't right. Poor Bandit was only with us for four days."
"I had a dog for four days." Jeremy laughed, he had been a dog person for as long as he could remember. Always wanted one, maybe that was part of why he was so found of Lucky LeBlanc.
"Yep. Do you remember your pet goldfish?" Frank said taking a swig of his bottle of water.
"Yeah I got a pet goldfish named Spot when I was nine." the Private shrugged, not sure what his old pet fish had to do with anything.
"Well, I sorta killed him…on accident. I got some 'Taco Bell' hot sauce in his bowl and it turned out to be pretty lethal." Frank admitted begrudgingly, he had felt guilty about killing Spot for ten years now…and it felt really, really good to get it off his chest.
"You told me I forgot feed him! I thought I killed him and I felt so damn bad that I never got another goldfish!" Jeremy was in shock. He had never gotten over that goldfish thing. Spot was the only pet he ever had and his mom promised that if he kept Spot alive for three months he could get a dog. Spot made it two and a half months before he swam to that great fishbowl in the sky, and Jeremy ended up dog-less.
"I was scared you'd hate me! And I've felt so guilty for the last ten years about that fucking fish, boy I tell you, you have no idea!" Frank laughed.
"I can't believe you killed my fish and lied to me about it." Jeremy shook his head.
"You wanna stop by PetCo and get another one on the way home?" the Colonel suggested. Maybe they could get a clownfish this time? Like the one in Finding Nemo.
"No, because when we get home you're just gonna kill him again. Another round of hot sauce." Jeremy declined teasingly.
"Damn, I feel so much better about that fish thing now."
"Me too. All these years I thought I was a fish murderer."
"I love you, boy." Frank said.
"Love you too, Dad…maybe not as much as Emmalin, but still a lot." the Private joked.
"Well I won't let you shove your tongue down my throat, so I'm okay with coming in second to Emmalin." Frank chuckled.
"Or maybe, it's cause she hasn't killed my pet goldfish."
The night continued on much in that fashion. Colonel Frank Sherwood felt closer to his son than he ever had. The purpose of his big camping trip had been accomplished and he finally felt like he had gotten back on the right track. Frank had missed most of Jeremy's milestones as a kid, but it's 'better late, than never'. He was just a little late is all.