Author's Note: I've had the idea for this one for months before I started writing, and I originally envisioned something shorter. When I outlined it, I noticed that it would have to be a longer work to do it proper justice. This story comes in at just over 52K words with a lot of heat in the middle. I had originally thought to put it in the First Time category but seeing as the romance really defines the story, I ultimately chose to put it there. Enjoy!
*****
"Here you go, man. 136 Midland St, right?"
Kyle Patterson snapped out of his reverie, not realizing that the cab had stopped in front of his childhood home. It was a hot, muggy day in the second week of August, and the heat was already so oppressive that he found his shirt sticking to his back. He hazarded a glance over to the house he'd grown up in, finding it both a familiar and strange sight at the same time.
"Yeah, this is it. How much do I owe you?"
"$15.65," said the driver while reaching his hand behind him. Kyle grabbed some money from his pocket and deposited it in the man's hand. Finding the total all there plus tip, he popped the trunk so Kyle could grab his belongings. Two small duffel bags contained his entire life for the past five years, and Kyle couldn't help but notice how small they seemed on the sidewalk. Placing a strap over each shoulder, he stepped up to the front door.
Not much had changed at the house since he'd left. He was glad to see his dad finally gave her a fresh paint job so the house didn't look so dated anymore. Even with the new exterior look, the deck still creaked at just the right spot, and his mother's flowers still struggled to grow, a fact he always chalked up to a lack of a green thumb on her part. It hadn't been home in a long time but it was for now. At least, it had to be.
Before his hand even touched the door, it swung open erratically, and his mother's face appeared with a look of joyous excitement.
"There's my baby!" his mother squealed, wrapping him up in a hug that only a mother could give. "I'm so glad you're home!"
Kyle clung onto her tightly as a stream of happy tears cascaded down her face. It had felt like ages since he'd seen her last. Of course to her, he'd always be her baby as the youngest child. Even if he was all of twenty-three now with a whole lot of battle experience behind him.
She pulled away and really looked at him. "You have no idea how happy I am to see your face again."
Kyle saw the deeper meaning behind her words. There had been one too many close calls in the last five years. Incidents and fights that might have prevented the reunion with his family. She knew it too, the implied meaning hiding behind the spoken words.
Kyle managed a brief smile and a nod. "Glad to see you too, mom," he said quietly before she shuffled him into the house. As soon as he was inside, the familiar smell of the house hit him immediately. Kyle swore that every house had its own distinct aroma, sometimes good but often bad, yet the house brought back a flood of memories. The smell was just another reminder he was home.
"There's my guy," said his father, looking up from the television set and quickly rushing to his feet. "How's my ex-marine doing now?"
Kyle managed a chuckle. "It's former marine, dad. Don't you know you never say ex-marine?"
His father could only grin. "I learn something new everyday. So how's my
former
marine doing?"
"Not too bad. Glad to be home," said Kyle before looking around. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the honest truth either. The house seemed a lot emptier than he remembered it. Of course, it was only his parents living there now. Both of his older brothers were long since out of the house, even if they were still there before he left to join the marines.
Grabbing his duffel bags, he walked up the stairs to his room, finding the white, wooden door closed. Jiggling the knob, he stepped into what felt like a time capsule. His bed was just the way he left it, slightly disheveled in a way that would never pass inspection now. The football ribbons and trophies hung off the wall, a reminder of his time in high school and days long since past—a gateway into his life before enlisting in the Marine Corps at the tender age of eighteen.
At the time, it had seemed like the right thing to do. At that point in his life, he was in the best shape he'd ever been, thanks to football. Not to mention, he had no idea what to do after school. College didn't seem quite his style. He had trouble staying interested in his high school work so signing up for another four years sounded like a form of torture. In comparison, the chance to play hero and see exotic places around the globe intrigued him. He was probably the easiest sell the recruiter ever had, but it meant that while his high school friends were preparing to move into dorm rooms, he was in boot camp.
Once he was in, it opened up a different world for him. For a guy who'd barely ever left his own county, suddenly he was all over the place. Japan, Iraq, Afghanistan just to name a few. Destinations that he'd only read about in newspapers before. He spent the most amount of time in Afghanistan, over two tours' worth, finding that was enough for a lifetime.
Even when he wasn't patrolling the middle of nowhere, Afghanistan, Kyle learned to rely on his friends. All of them—Leroy, Smitty, Urkel, Garza, Newman, K-Top—members of his platoon. Most of them were just as lost as he was when they signed up at a young age. Yet there was something about combat that had a way of maturing them, molding them into the men they were meant to be. At least, that was what the brochure had said. For Kyle, he felt not quite right after enough time serving. Like there was something missing. The feeling really exacerbated when Garza got blown to bits by a Taliban mortar.
There were other casualties as well. They lost Smitty to enemy fire and Newman to a sniper. Kyle learned quickly to shield his emotions as the best protection against losing a friend in such an environment. In doing so, it buried the loss far below into his core, where he couldn't dwell on it or let it prevent him from completing a mission. But as his core of friends dropped one by one, he found pieces of who he was dying with them.
It was still a dangerous time in that part of the world, despite the nightly news long since having moved off that godforsaken country. But just because there was no coverage of their firefights, it didn't mean the body count didn't still rack up day by day. Kyle eventually had enough, and when he was asked to reenlist again, he answered with two middle fingers. He was tired of watching friends die.
Stepping back into civilian life was almost like another deployment for him. It's a different feeling to know that people aren't trying to kill you from the moment you wake up in the morning, and it takes a while to adjust back into normal life. There were still things that made him jump. He particularly hated garbage day. There was something about the loud trash vehicles that made his heart race. He'd been warned in advance that the fourth of July would be tough too, but thankfully he had almost a full year before he had to experience that.
Kyle sat down against his bed after grabbing a picture from the wall. It was a picture of his homecoming game from senior year, when they had crushed Dayton 52-10. He stared back at the youthful, more innocent version of himself. Part of him wondered what that kid would say to him now. He also wondered what he would say to him in return? Don't enlist and watch your friends die. Don't leave pieces of yourself in Afghanistan. All of that was better said than done.
There was a subtle knock at the door as his father stepped in. "You doing all right, Kyle? You seem a little quiet since you got home."
Kyle put the picture down on his desk quickly. "Yeah, I'm doing okay, I guess. It's just different being back home. I'm still adjusting to all of it."
"Your mother and I couldn't be happier that you're here again. Some of your calls from over there worried us to pieces," his father admitted. "I'm glad it's all behind us now."
Kyle nodded quietly without saying anything.
"So do you have any idea what you want to do now? Any plans for a job or maybe go see a girlfriend for a bit?"
"I'm not sure. I haven't really thought much about it," said Kyle with honesty. "No girlfriend in sight. Not much on the job prospect front either. I guess I'm a little lost."
In more ways than one.
His father put a comforting hand against his back. "You don't have to figure out everything right away. Take some time to enjoy yourself. Relax a little. I'm sure the last five years weren't easy, and getting back into normal life will take some getting used to. Don't put pressure on yourself, and just take it one day at a time."
Kyle started to nod. "I should start looking for jobs though. I will need something to do. After all, I can't exactly live in my childhood bedroom forever."
His father grinned. "Do it on your own time though. When you're ready. And if you need some help, let me know. I have a lot of connections that could use the help of a veteran. If you need help lining up a job interview, just let me know. Do you have any interests in that matter? Any idea where you might want me to start?"
Kyle took a deep breath and then shrugged. "I don't know. I'm still trying to get used to not being a marine."
His father nodded. "Take your time. We're glad to have you home, son."
Kyle nodded his head, finding no response appropriate enough to say out loud. He could see the unspoken words lined up on his father's lips. The nervousness and the worry about the person who'd just returned home. Kyle didn't have to wonder if his father sensed the change in him—his apprehensive gaze already confirmed it silently.
"You should take time to see some of your friends as well," his father started as he walked back to the door. "I'm sure they'd be happy to see you. It has been a long time."
"Yeah, maybe. I wonder who'd even still be here right now. I bet a bunch of them have moved away," said Kyle.
"Some probably have but I bet others haven't. Your mother said she ran into Leslie Butler at the grocery store. I guess Ryan is back for the summer before he goes off to school. I bet he'd like to see you again."
Ryan Butler had been his best friend back in high school. They had both played on the same football team together. Ryan was a big kid even back then, over two-hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle. He made opposing quarterbacks sweat just by looking at them.
"Maybe I'll give him a call," said Kyle dismissively. He hadn't talked to Ryan since he left. He wasn't sure he'd be good company for conversation even if Ryan wanted to see him.
His father gave him one more smile as he tapped the door frame. Before he knew it, he was already gone. As he slipped the duffel bags off the bed, Kyle laid down on it and stared up at the ceiling. He'd heard returning back to civilian life was a tough adjustment. The marines had provided so much structure to his life that he wasn't sure what to do now that he was truly out. The prospect of having unlimited time in front of him was slightly scary.
What the hell am I going to do now?
*****
Kyle had the nagging suspicion that his old friend was "nudged" to reach out to him. It was late in the afternoon that day when his phone started buzzing with a familiar number. Seeing Ryan's name light up on the screen, Kyle decided to answer it.
"Ryan, how are you man?"
"Well, if it isn't the king in the north himself. Finally back home after the longest time!"
Kyle started to chuckle. That old personal joke went all the way back to high school, back when
Game of Thrones
was still running on television. Kyle's pale complexion and dark, black hair with just the right amount of curl at the tips made him resemble the actor who played Robb Stark. It was a joke that picked up in the locker room after a game and just stuck.
