Copyright @Calibeachgirl
All rights reserved, 2012
Chapter 25: Bonds can be harder to break than promises.
Two weeks later...
By Friday afternoon, Frank was exhausted. It had been a long week of paperwork and following dead-end leads for no purpose. Between the continuing cheating wives murders and a suspected gun theft ring at Pendleton, the hours seemed to stretch from midnight to midnight with no relief in sight. Today was the first time in days that he was able to take a rest and after opening a Coors, he took a long, cold drink.
He slouched down onto his couch, his feet up on the coffee table, his beer in his hand and carefully looked at Barbara, his partner at NCIS. Her light-chocolate face stared back, wondering what was the cause of his interest. He wondered what might have been if their affair had fully blossomed into marriage, he had been that... what? infatuated? enamored? obsessed? with her.
His problem was the simple question: was he still?
It was too late now, he realized, still casting a furtive glance in her direction. He had married Caitlyn, a given once he had discovered he was the father of Kelly. He did love Caitlyn, there was no doubt about that in his mind but the five years lost still bothered him, lurking in the back of his mind like a hungry spider waiting to pounce whenever circumstances were ripe. Those five years had became a series of furtive wanderings around the American naval bases of the Pacific searching for a peace that never came, no matter how hard he tried to put the past behind him.
"You know," Barbara said, looking at him, "we need to take a break." She stood near the windows, the detritus of numerous beach-combing trips littering the windowsills: shells, bits of twisted and polished driftwood, colored glass floats washed ashore after decades at sea. A grin spread across her face. "I'm for going to Solvang for the weekend," she said, now looking at Caitlyn, "and you're coming with me." She put Kelly down onto the floor and wiped the melted ice cream from her blouse. "This 'auntie' business is messy work. God, I need a break, I'm so sick of all this death."
"I don't know," answered Caitlyn. "There's still..." She looked at her friend who was already starting to close windows, forgetting for a moment that Frank was still in the condo.
"You know as well as I do," she continued, "that this case is just spinning its wheels unless we can come up with some new angle. That goddamn colonel over at Pendleton practically dared us to try and prove it and we all know he's... ah, screw that asshole. Look, we take a short ride up the coast, get some Danish, buy some junk, maybe spend the night or so and then come back and we attack this thing refreshed."
"I still..." Caitlyn looked at her friend who was now heading into the kitchen.
"Then, it's settled. We're going. You pack up what you need for the kid... Maria, pack us a few snacks for the road and we're off. The boys can 'bach' it for the weekend."
..........
A half-hour later, the four were heading north along the 5 toward Los Angeles and were making good time until reaching the 5-405 split near El Toro.
"God, I hate this damn freeway!!!" Barbara said, smacking the steering wheel and honking the horn. Embarrassed, she turned down the radio, not wanting to wake Kelly, now sound asleep in the back seat next to Maria.
Caitlyn put down her paperback and looked at her friend. "Oh, you just get too excited. We'll be there soon enough. Just keep your eyes on the road." Caitlyn gazed back toward her daughter, sound asleep, wondering if driving up the coast was such a good idea, after all.
They slowed to forty miles per hour all the way to the South Bay curve, slowing even further until they passed the Rosecrans exit and almost came to a halt. Barbara looked toward the houses beyond the west side of the freeway as their car slowly crept forward. Maria was staring out the window, quietly listening to her I-pod.
"What?" asked Caitlyn, looking up from her book and wondering what had captured her friend's attention from the highway.
"I used to know someone that lived here..."
Barbara's mind filled with visions of what had been... that first time they had met. It had been a quiet afternoon as she sat on the park bench, finishing her lunch when he had walked up.
Twelve years earlier...
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he had asked, his voice softly belying his handsome features and build, his face in shadow from the sun behind his head.
"No, I'd like the company," she had answered, shyly grateful that there was someone to talk to on such an almost empty day. She scooted over a little, giving him space. She put her small lunch cooler on the ground.
"Hi," he had said, "I'm Jim. Would you like some candy?" Laughing, he had pulled out a bar of Ghirardelli chocolate and passed it to her. "Here," he said, pulling out another, "I've two."
"Thank you, you're very kind," she had said, glad for the attention. Her college studies had taken most of her time and her family the rest.
Before the afternoon had ended, they were sitting closer together, talking about what they did... he was in the Air Force, riding what he called the 'back seat' of an F-15 and she was finishing at UCLA with a degree in criminal justice.
"That must be very interesting," they both said at the same time. They laughed.
"I understand that means good luck..." he said.
"What?"
"When two people say the same thing, you know, at the same time. Good luck. Old Chinese proverb or something...."
"You're making that up, aren't you?" She laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand.
"Why do you do that?" he asked.
"What?" she asked, again.
"Hide your beautiful face behind your hand when you laugh. You have the most wonderful smile and you shouldn't hide it... especially from me." He put his finger to her lips, touching her gently, her tongue touching him.
"Please kiss me now," she had said and his tongue slid between her full lips as his pale hands caressed her darker face.
Before the afternoon had ended, they were walking together, holding hands like it was the most natural thing to do and as they approached the park's small lake, she stopped him. "Is this something special?"
"Like nothing else," he answered.
Before the afternoon had ended, they were falling in love for he had said he was struck by her beautiful mind and quick laughter and she by his pure affection for life and her.
That night, they took a long walk on the beach, occasionally withstanding a less-than-approving glance from someone along the way. He laughed as they passed, wishing them a pleasant evening. He said a man who flies in fighter planes for a living had no fear from some small-minded fools at the shore. He was more afraid of the seagulls flying low nearby determined to ruin their clothes.
The next day, they went to Bob's Big Boy for lunch, all thoughts of going to class lost for the moment, ordering hamburgers and shakes and ice cream sundaes and talking like two teenagers about life and love and happiness and silliness and then more seriously, the future as one hand reached across the table to the other and fingers touched and palms touched and then both hands joined heatedly, friendship and trust and love moving from skin to skin and back again.
He took her to the Western Museum of Flight at Torrance Airport and introduced her to his world, showing her the exotic Northrop YF-23 Black Widow II, now looking like something from Star Wars and sitting on the ground, so far from its natural home in the skies high above.
And the day after that, they saw a revival of 'Casablanca' at a theater in Westwood and then went for New York pizza next door and he had laughed as the cheese stringed from her slice to her smiling mouth and she had laughed when the waitress asked if they wanted a box to take home and he said they were going to finish it there, thank you.
And she couldn't understand how she had ever lived without his smile and he wondered where in his life he would be without her laughing eyes and vowed to never be without her again.
Before the week was over, they had been a couple in love, walking hand in hand everywhere they went, kissing, hugging, touching. Their passion had burned so brightly, so quickly, so passionately. Even now, the memory made her blush so many years later.
Before the month was over, she wanted to make love to him and had thought, "Make love to me now before I have a reason not to," and then realized she had said those words aloud. "Dear God, what have I said?" she blushingly asked.
His hands felt strong and insistent as they drew her to him, though his mouth was surprisingly soft and supple, pliant lips shaping themselves over hers, imparting a taste of their own, mixing with hers into something she hadn't ever tasted before but somehow knew from forever.
The power of his embrace chased off any lingering hesitation she might have had and knew she'd never have a night like this again, for it would be her first time.