Rochelle Alers - Twins For The Soldier

“I need a credit card and some government ID.” Lee handed him a credit card and his military driver’s license. “I have one available with a kitchen that includes a full-size refrigerator, dishwasher, compact washer-dryer, stovetop and microwave. Your suite will also have Wi-Fi, televisions in the living and bedrooms, and housekeeping services. If you need clean sheets and towels, just hang the placard on the door and someone will replenish your supply. I’m only going to charge you for half of June, with the fifteen percent discount of course, and if you’re still here in July I’ll charge you for that month. We have a policy that you can check out at any time and management will prorate your bill.” He paused as he took a copy of Lee’s driver’s license. “We can’t have folks accusing us of cheating them. That would be bad for business.”

“You’ve got that right,” Lee said in agreement.

Leroy returned Lee’s license and credit card and then gave him two keycards. “Your room is 322. You will find the elevators down the hall on the left. There’s an outdoor pool on the other side of the building, and also an exercise room. I don’t know if you’re familiar with this area, but there are a few chain restaurants and local sports bars less than a quarter of a mile from here. Further up the interstate is a shopping mall. You will find a binder in your room with a listing of stores and shops in the area. There’s also a supermarket close by where you can shop for groceries, or you can go online and order what you want and they’ll deliver them to you. And by the way—thank you for your service.”

Lee wanted to tell the loquacious man that he was more than familiar with the area, but decided to humor him. “It was an honor to serve,” he said truthfully. He was anxious to check in to his suite, shower and change out of the fatigues into civvies. Earlier that morning he’d just returned from overseas when he was summoned by his commanding officer and informed that effective immediately he was honorably discharged. Lee had packed up his on-base apartment and then gotten into his vehicle to leave the 75th Ranger Regiment headquartered at Fort Benning, Georgia, for West Virginia.

After changing he planned to go online to order enough groceries to stock the kitchen. His aunt Barbara, whom everyone called Babs, had taught him to cook, and it was something he enjoyed. Even when he returned to base and settled back into his apartment he preferred cooking for himself to eating in the mess hall.

Lee called his aunt whenever he had the chance. He’d grown to love his guardian as much as he had his mother, and when she’d complained about wanting to move to a warmer climate he’d made all the arrangements for her and her husband to relocate to an Arizona golf community where both had become avid golfers.

He opened the door to his suite and walked into the living/dining area. Lee was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t filled with the ubiquitous hotel furnishings, but was more in keeping with a personal apartment. Varying shades of green and yellow gave it a tropical look. He dropped his bags and made his way to the bedroom. The vibrant colors were repeated in the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling drapes and the bed dressing. The bedroom was furnished with a king-size bed, a double dresser and bedside tables. There was a spacious sitting area with a love seat and chaise. A desk and chair with outlets nearby doubled as a mini-office. He knew he would enjoy coming here to relax, cook or sleep, while readjusting to life as a civilian for the first time in a dozen years. Lee made his way to the bathroom and peered inside. He had the option of soaking in the garden tub with a Jacuzzi or utilizing the shower stall with an oversize showerhead.

Bending, he untied the laces on his boots and then kicked them off. Within minutes he had undressed and left the clothes in a large wicker basket doubling as a hamper and replaced the lid. Lee returned to where he had left his bags and removed a toiletry kit from the duffel. He lathered his face with shaving cream as he studied his reflection in the mirror over a double sink. His hand stilled when he realized he was looking into the face of a younger Emory. There were times when he couldn’t remember what his father looked like because his aunt had removed all photographs of Emory once he was sentenced to prison. It was as if she’d sought to eradicate the memory of the man who’d caused her sister so much emotional pain. Now Lee thought about the times when Aunt Babs stared at him with a perplexed look on her face whenever he stopped by to visit her in Tucson. And he wondered if his startling physical resemblance to her brother-in-law conjured up memories she had buried years before.

Lee knew his aunt loved him and Viviana as if they were her own children, and wondered if she would ever forgive the man who’d deserted her sister, niece and nephew when they’d needed him most. Turning on the hot water, Lee wet the razor and began the task of removing the stubble he’d grown during his last deployment. And like a prisoner counting down the days for his impending release, Lee counted today as his first as a civilian. And he had another three hundred sixty-four before his time would expire for him to reenlist.

Angela sat on a love seat in the enclosed back porch of her mother-in-law’s home, watching her son and daughter put together a large-piece puzzle. They’d gone to church earlier that morning, and services were followed by Sunday dinner. Afterwards it was time to relax and wind down before preparing for a two-week vacation for her and a six-week one for her children.

She’d recently celebrated her first year as a working mother. She was employed at a local medical center, and having accrued vacation, she’d decided it was the perfect time to take it. She had never been away from her children since giving birth to them, so it would be a period of adjustment for all of them when visiting her parents and her children’s grandparents.

She glanced over at her mother-in-law as Joyce Mitchell concentrated piecing squares for a quilt for her granddaughter’s bed. Joyce, a very attractive woman in her midfifties, had been widowed for more than ten years, and had summarily rejected the advances of a number of men who expressed an interest in her. She claimed she was still mourning the loss of her husband and son. Angela hadn’t been widowed as long as Joyce, yet she was realistic enough to know Justin was gone and he was never coming back. Every time Justin left on a mission, his parting words to her had always been that if he didn’t come back alive, then he didn’t want her to spend the rest of her life mourning him. And if she did decide to marry again, to just make certain that the man could love and protect not only her but their children, too.

Joyce had been badgering her to join the military widows’ chapter of a local service club, but Angela saw no use in talking to other women about what was, and she didn’t want to relive the image of her husband’s flag-draped casket before the flag was folded and handed to her. Her sole focus was her son and daughter and their emotional well-being. She hadn’t dated and wasn’t looking forward to dating until her children were older. After all, she was only thirty and had plenty of years ahead of her to think about having a relationship.

“Lee Remington’s back in The Falls.”

Joyce’s head popped up as she stared over her half-glasses at Angela. Her clear brown eyes grew wider, eyes that were the almost the exact color of her café au lait complexion. “When did he get back?”

“It was a couple of days ago.”

“Did you talk to him?” Joyce asked.

Angela nodded. “We chatted for a few minutes before I took Malcolm to the dentist.”