This story is dedicated in all honor and respect to the fine men (and women) of our armed forces, and to the families who wait and watch - and to two men in particular with my personal love, honor and respect - N.C.I.S. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs (who this character is NOT but who inspired a great deal of this story) and to the love of my life...who knows all the reasons why.
# # # #
She heard the first car door slam through the open window above the sink while she was rinsing her dinner dishes. At first glance she thought with some humor that it looked like an ad for that movie...what was the name...oh yeah, "A Few Good Men". Then her wide blue eyes riveted onto the Bible in the hands of the...Chaplain and thought, "aw shit...I wonder who..." They milled briefly at the side of the car, collecting themselves, settling service dress uniforms and gloves. Her neighbor, Rae Jeanne, ever bold and waiting for no man to bring her word, waded into the middle of the group. She continued to mechanically dry her hands on the damp towel, blood already freezing in her veins. Seeing the group, now including Rae Jeanne, moving purposefully toward her sidewalk she said aloud -
"Awww SHIT!"
Smoothing her hand across the mound of her belly when the baby kicked forcefully -
"Ssshhhh... It'll be okay sweetie, I promise."
Putting down the towel and straightening her spine, chin up and dry-eyed as befitted a Marine's wife...widow she corrected...she moved to the front door.
# # # #
His gray-blue eyes took in everything at a glance, the standardized military housing, as well as the neatly trimmed grass, the colorful flower bed, and the wind chimes tossing gaily in the spring breeze. A short, feisty looking black woman had introduced herself as Rae Jeanne Carpenter, saying -
"Alright boys, if it's my man then no need to come no further. If not, then you tell me who it was and I'll go with you to meet his woman."
The Chaplain bent his head to murmur in her ear and she reared back, eyes flashing -
"That one!" She spat on the ground. "Good riddance! Beat that poor girl yonder till she couldn't move sometimes."
The Chaplain paled but HE wasn't surprised, despite the recruiting posters, the uniform did not ensure decency in the wearer. Nodding to the Chaplain, and the tired personnel officer with them, he turned on his heel and started down the sidewalk, the woman Rae Jeanne fell into step next to him. He could feel the eyes from countless other households boring into his back and knew there was mingled grief for the woman in the house ahead of him, and joy that he was not walking down their sidewalk, in those hearts and minds.
A young woman came out on the porch, long copper colored hair caught the late sunlight, drawing his eye, as did her wide turquoise blue eyes. Then he caught her movement as one hand gripped the rail tightly, and the other lifted in a universal gesture to caress and protect the child swelling her belly.
"Awww SHIT!"
He didn't think he'd said it aloud but the woman next to him murmured, "Exactly Gunny" before she darted ahead of them. Reaching the young woman at the head of the stairs she hugged her fiercely, then whirled into the house, calling back over her shoulder -
"I'll put on the coffee pot."
# # # #
Although the furniture in the small room had clearly seen better days he thought the room itself was neat and clean enough that his own drill instructor would have approved it. As for the girl, for all that she was pale and strung tight as trip wire she was dry-eyed, never faltering in civility to them. Courageous little thing, he thought, seeing her nod acceptance of the Chaplain's quiet words of compassion. The only time she faltered, eyes going wide with sudden fear and her hand lifting to her belly again, was when Rae Jeanne came into the room carrying a tray heavy with coffee pot and mugs. Setting it down she interrupted -
"So tell me Chaplain, how long until she and the baby have to be out of housing?"
In all the visits he'd ever made to parents, wives and nowadays the occasional husband, he couldn't recall anyone ever asking THAT before, and it shocked him to realize he'd never given the matter a thought before this. Chaplain Moore deferred to the personnel officer who was clearly uncomfortable and wishing he was somewhere else.
"Rae Jeanne!" She scolded, "We'll be fine. I'm sure it'll all work out."
"The HELL it will!" She wagged a finger at the little red-head. "You're gonna drop that load in another few weeks and you and I both know you ain't got no place else to go girl!"
The P.O. admitted that two weeks was standard but that he and the Chaplain would ask for an extension until she found somewhere else to live, or until the baby was born. He thought about THAT and it left a sour taste in his mouth. She'd already admitted she was "just a housewife" somewhat shyly. So how was she going to go about finding a place, arranging the move...not to mention supporting herself and the baby. Death benefits weren't going to last forever.
By the time they were ready to leave his stomach was tied in knots. This little girl, who looked barely out of her teens, deserved better - better than a husband who beat her, got her pregnant and then died - who had failed in his duty and responsibility to her and to his child - and NOW, the service that had recruited him was going to kick her while she was down. He'd heard that old saw about 'If we wanted you to have a wife and family we'd have issued you one in boot camp' before, but it had never made him feel so angry and bitter as it did now. As she escorted them to the door he bent his head to tell her -
"I'll be back later Ma'am, to check on you. And if you need help, we can go over the details of the funeral. He's entitled to military burial."
She looked at him with gratitude and that was when he saw her eyes fill with sudden tears -
"Thank you Gunnery Sergeant," She peered at the name tag on his chest, "Rourke."
"Just 'Gunny' Ma'am."
"Thank you, Gunny."
She dropped her head briefly, but then straightened and smiled at him and he noticed with a pang that one of her front teeth had been broken at an angle and never fixed.
# # # #
He came back near dusk, deliberately dressed in faded jeans and an old Colorado State sweatshirt, hoping to seem more human in civies. He'd stopped at the supermarket on his way...his mother having drilled into him at an early age than you 'never go calling empty-handed'. He wasn't quite sure what was appropriate though and spent half an hour wandering the aisles before settling on a bunch of daisies and a little rubber duckie for the baby that was coming. Paying for his purchases he thought, there was something about her that reminded him of the daisies - clean, pure and wholesome. He wondered if the baby would be a boy or a girl, if it would have her blue eyes and red hair or the darker coloration of it's father. The boy had been in his unit and aside from a quick temper had seemed okay. In hindsight though he could see there had been a tendency to bully. The military tended to ignore such behavior, knowing that sooner or later it would become self-defeating. While the Corps protected its own, the unit itself was more than capable of disciplining individuals...
The illustrious Rae Jeanne opened the door to his knock saying, "You got the wrong house, son!"
Then, peering at him more closely in the waning light, she exploded in laughter.
"I'll be damned, Gunny!" Waving him in and gesturing at the flowers in his hand, she asked, "You come calling?"
At his flush she went on, "Don't get me wrong! She's gonna need a GOOD man, right quick...but hell, son, he ain't even IN the ground yet!"
He continued to stand in the doorway, uncertain whether Rae Jeanne was giving him her blessing for what he intended, or so protective of the little widow that she intended to drive him off. Finally seeming to make up her mind she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him completely into the front room. When a call came from the kitchen, 'Rae Jeanne, who was it this time?', the black woman held a finger to her lips, hushing any incipient noise he might make. Still holding the front of his sweatshirt she tugged until he bent his head closer to her face.
"But you, by GOD, better be good to that little girl, you hear me, Gunny?"
He flashed a grin at her, suddenly looking far younger than his years, "Yes, MA'AM!", he whispered.
She shook her head, "Lord help us all! You keep smiling like that every woman on this block gonna be over here, panting after you! You ARE single I hope."
He wiggled his ringless hand in the air and she snorted, "Aw hell, plenty you fellas in the military don't wear no rings. That don't mean nuthin'."
"Means a LOT to me, Rae Jeanne." He whispered near her ear.
Just then a vision moved into the kitchen doorway. Wearing only a thin, white cotton gown, she looked like an angel with the light flowing around and behind her, shimmering off the hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders. The translucency of the cotton revealing more of her charms than it hid. He took a deep breath and his hand tightened on the rubber duckie so hard it squeaked. Rae Jeanne cut a glance at him out of the corner of her eyes, muttering -
"Lord help us ALL!" Then, more loudly, "Deedee, honey, look! That nice Gunnery Sergeant came back just like he said he would. Come see what he brung y'all."
The girl moved closer to him, the fresh scent of her hair and clean skin hitting him like a lightning bolt. She took the toy from him, showing her friend and squeaking it with delight. And the way she exclaimed over the flowers you'd have thought she'd never gotten flowers before...but then, he pondered, maybe she hadn't...
"Deedee?" he asked, somewhat blankly.
"Oh!" She blushed ('My God," he thought in amazement. Wondering when was the last time he'd seen a woman blush...) "Yes, most everybody calls me Deedee - Deirdre Delancy - D.D."
