We'll Begin Again Read online

Page 8


  "Ready to see your new look?"

  "You mean my hack job?"

  "I'm still holding the scissors," I warned.

  When he didn't respond, I held up the mirror and watched as his eyes focused in on his reflection with fierce concentration.

  "Whoa!"

  That was all the reassurance I needed to hear.

  "I bought a new razor and some shaving cream for you, too. It's in the bathroom."

  William nodded and took off the Superman cape. He strode to the bathroom with a noticeable spring in his step. I poured myself a glass of wine and patted myself on the shoulder. Now, I just had to sweep up the hair and wait for him to shave.

  Twenty minutes passed, and silence filled the apartment. I knocked on the door. "Everything okay in there?"

  "Yeah!" he called back.

  "Well, what's taking so long, then? Let me see what you look like."

  My heart thudded with excitement. I felt like I was living Jumanji when Robin Williams comes out of the game looking like a wild man, only to clean himself up afterward and become a brand-new man.

  The door opened slowly, and I stepped back to give William room to come out. My palms were sweating as I held my breath. He inched out of the room with his head down. I couldn't see his face.

  "Well?"

  Then, he looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. The man who stood before me looked like an entirely new person. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought William jumped out of the window, and a distant cousin took his place in my bathroom.

  "Wow," was all I could muster.

  A warming sensation maneuvered its way to my loins while my pulse raced. William was... HOT. His haircut made him look not only like a new man, but a professional one. He shaved his beard but kept a five o'clock shadow, which made me imagine the sensation of his scruff against my cheek. I wondered how his lips would taste. Wait! Whoa! What was happening to me? I only met this guy a few weeks ago, and I was imagining all this? I scolded myself and put down my wine.

  His eyes pierced my soul, and it felt as though I was meeting William for the very first time. I imagined all the girls who must have chased after him years ago.

  "That a good wow or a bad wow?"

  "Good," I gulped.

  He blushed, and adrenaline pumped through my veins. My body hadn't reacted this way to a man in a very long time. This was dangerous. Very freaking dangerous.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Like I lost a few pounds in hair," he said with a smile.

  "You look, um-"

  "What?" His hands darted to his face.

  "Handsome," I finally managed to say.

  He exhaled. "Thanks. And, thank you for helping me with, you know, everything." It was the first time he sounded more grateful than bitter.

  "Thank you for letting me."

  My hormones and wine had gone straight to my head. I hoped I wouldn't scare William away. Especially because we’d come so far from the first time we met. He opened up to me a little more each time we were together and lowered his walls a touch by letting me cut his hair.

  Yesterday, I took a last-minute volunteering shift at the shelter. When I arrived, the other volunteers, ranging in ages from sixteen to sixty, prepared dinner to serve to those in attendance. Mark handed me an apron and a hairnet. William’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when I served him his portion of meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

  “You again?” he asked.

  “Me again,” I confirmed.

  After dinner, we took a walk around the block. A cot was already reserved for him, so he didn’t have to worry about someone stealing his place for the night. We strolled the streets and gazed at the stars overhead. Even though the city lights washed out most of the stars, a few constellations peeked through.

  “My dad died on September eleventh,” he’d said.

  My heart lurched. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “That’s why I enlisted after college. I wanted to fight for his honor.”

  “That’s a very honorable reason.”

  “Are you scared you’ll miss out on Charlie’s life?” he had asked me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, by working so much. Aren’t you afraid you’ll miss something?”

  I considered what William asked. Of course I wanted to be in Charlie’s life as much as possible, he was my only child, I loved him more than anyone could love another human being. I wanted to see him grow and live to his fullest potential. I wanted to be there to kiss his bruises, wipe away his tears after his first heart break and watch him walk across the stage at graduation. I often imagined the day I’d dance with him at his wedding or hold my grandchild for the first time. Would I actually miss out if I kept up my current pace at work? Cal constantly warned me when we were together that I’d turn into a ghost of a mother. I’d be in Charlie’s life, but only as a fleeting image of who I once was or could have been.

  “I try to be there for him as much as I can. I can only do so much being a single mom.”

  “We can always do better,” he had said thoughtfully.

  A crater appeared in my gut. Could I do better? Could I be home more for Charlie? I shook away the revelry and brought myself back to the present moment.

  "So," he said.

  "So?"

  "What now?"

  "You gotta try on the suit!" I reminded him.

  William shuffled his feet. "That's right. Uh, but is a suit really necessary? I mean, it’s only a maintenance job."

  “I don’t think it could hurt your chances. Better to overdress than underdress, right?”

  “Uh, yeah. Right.”

  I dashed to my bedroom, and William followed. I opened my walk-in closet with him at my heels, then handed him the suit from the clothing rack by my shoes.

  "This closet looks like something out of a movie.” His eyes bulged and he ran his hands along the clothing neatly hung with care.

  "Well, Cal never let me have anything like this at our house, so I figured I'd splurge this time around."

  William looked down at the suit I'd handed him. "So, this is your ex's suit, then?"

  "Yes, but it should fit fine. Go! Try it on." I ushered him back into the bathroom.

  "Do you mind if I take a quick shower first? I don't want to get the suit all dirty." He shrugged as color returned to his cheeks again.

  I never spent much time thinking about how William managed to bathe, if he did at all. By now, I’d grown accustomed to his musk.

  "Not at all. Be my guest.”

  He smiled and closed the bathroom door behind him. He turned the water on, and the powerful jets pounded against the tiles. While William showered, I stood by the island in the kitchen and started dinner.

  I didn't have too many ingredients available to make something super fancy and filling, but I had everything I needed to make fettuccine alfredo. I mixed the ingredients for the sauce on the stovetop when I heard the bathroom door click open followed by soft footsteps sounding on the hardwood floor.

  I looked up, and my heart stopped: William decked out in a suit combined with his new haircut shocked me like an electric current.

  "Does it fit okay?" He slowly turned around.

  "It's perfect!" I exclaimed. "You're going to wow everyone tomorrow. I just know it."

  "I'm not getting my hopes up," he said.

  "What are you talking about? You're going to knock 'em dead!"

  "I don't have much job experience outside of the military, Amelia." Frown lines creased his handsome face. “And it’s not like I can use my old bosses as references for the jobs I had after I left the Army. Plus, you’re still forgetting I don’t have a permanent address.”

  "You deserve a second chance, okay?"

  He stared at his feet, and I sensed his walls build back up again.

  I cleared my throat. "Listen, William. It's a great opportunity, and we've all gotta start somewhere. I put in a good word for you, and even though I'm n
ew myself, I seem to have some pull already."

  He nodded. "Well, what if I get it?"

  "Then we celebrate!"

  "I mean, what would I do for an alarm clock to get there on time? What would I do for transportation?" I saw the panic in his eyes as his chest rose and fell quickly. He struggled to catch his breath and sat down on the living room couch.

  I lowered the heat on the alfredo sauce and strode over to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed him against my body. It was the first time he let me give him a hug. His acceptance of my gesture surprised me, but I rolled with it.

  "Everything will be okay. I promise. I will help you with anything you need."

  William finally pulled away, but his smile lingered. In that instant, everything made sense: we were magnets, finally connected, fitting perfectly in each other's arms.

  “And, I do have a solution for your address problem.”

  “What do you mean?” His smile wavered.

  “I was talking to Mark, and he told me about a halfway house near the shelter.”

  “That place costs money,” William said.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I have some of that.”

  “I can’t let you do that.” He shook his head, a frown forming on his face.

  “Don’t worry. You can pay me back once you get the job.” I waited for the smile he wore earlier to return.

  “I can’t accept your money.

  “What if I charge you interest? Like a loan?”

  “I’ll have to think about it,” he answered, biting his lip.

  As much as I tried to help him, it felt like taking two steps forward and three steps back. I realized he wasn’t used to this much help, having lived on the streets for the past six years, but it was time he figured it out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  William

  I heard how dry and hot the desert was, but it didn't set in just how brutal the conditions were until I traveled to Afghanistan for my first tour overseas. The heat suffocated me, and I felt as though I was breathing in the sand with every breath. The first day, I sweated through my uniform within the first hour and reminded myself to drink as much water as possible to avoid dehydration. Even with the air conditioning turned on in our makeshift tin shelters, the temperature still read eighty degrees.

  The desert went on for miles and miles, far past my eye could see. I never thought I'd miss the sight of grass and trees, but I did. Luckily, I had Spence and Hudson by my side. We endured together, as always. I never imagined the camaraderie we shared was possible. We relied on each other more than anyone else and entrusted our lives to each other's protection.

  We didn't know a whole heck of a lot about our first mission when we landed, but it soon became clear what it entailed. There was a group of Taliban rebels taking down soldiers delivering emergency supplies on the ground to other military bases, and civilians caught in the middle suffered fatal consequences.

  Three humvees in the past month alone were attacked as they planned to deliver food, medicine, and clean water. Our goal was to hunt those motherfuckers down and show them not to fuck with America.

  First, we needed intel of who these bastards were, where they were coming from, and the kind of weaponry they carried. With the help of several intelligence agencies, we found out the specific Taliban group consisted of twenty to twenty-five men from a local village. They had automatic weapons and kept a post of men who rotated shifts as they held a lookout for American planes, helicopters, and foot soldiers.

  We had a few locals on our side, but the majority of those in the area were Taliban. Once the few and far between Arab men joined our side, we had to provide them protection. If their village or the Taliban ever found out they teamed up with the Americans, they and their families would be slaughtered without question. We had trouble communicating with them at first, as their English was broken. But with the help of an interpreter, working together became easier and easier every day.

  Sama, the interpreter, grew up in a village not too far away. She was a badass who intimidated most of the men on base. She helped ease the tensions many times, too. When you bring two cultures together, there's bound to be a few disagreements. It also didn't help that some of the men referred to the Iraqi soldiers as "camel fuckers." As I said, it wasn't easy at first. While the days and weeks passed, though, we taught each other bits and pieces of our own cultures. Soon, the Iraqis on our side became obsessed with American movies, and we became enthralled with the local cuisine. I’d never had hummus before, but once I tasted it, I couldn't get enough.

  During a morning briefing, our captain told us we were about to see some serious action. The plan was simple: a decoy plane, flown and controlled offsite, would distract the Taliban group we sought so a humvee could get through to bring the emergency supplies the local civilian villages desperately needed. Most supplies traveled through the Pakistan border. Unfortunately, we couldn't always trust those at the border not to tip off members of the Taliban. While the decoy plane drew out the terrorists, we'd hone in on them and take down as many of those fuckers as we could.

  We spent the rest of the day relaxing, as we knew our orders didn't begin until the following morning. Many of us liked to kick a soccer ball around to waste time. Others sat in a circle and played hand after hand of blackjack and poker. If we weren't working out, telling stories, or playing games, we didn't have much else to occupy our time while we awaited orders. Spence, Hudson and I watched as the others sweated like pigs kicking the damn ball back and forth to each other. We'd just finished working out and now relaxed under the brutal sun. Even though our thermometer said it was well over one hundred degrees, we couldn't stand the idea of going to lie down in our cots. We already slept as much as we could; I was getting bored of sleeping. Sixteen year old me would be disappointed.

  "Can you believe we're here?" Spence asked.

  "I can't, man. Feels surreal," Hudson replied.

  "Whatever happens, I'm happy to have you guys by my side."

  "Oh, look! William's getting soft on us!" Hudson said as Spence chuckled.

  "I may be an only child, but you two fuckers are my brothers."

  "Who knew we'd be here together?" Spence asked.

  "The big man upstairs did," Hudson said. "He brought us together, and he'll keep us together.”

  We passed around a big jug of room temperature water and reminisced about training and all the hard work we'd put in to get here. It felt like the last supper, but I hoped we'd all make it out alive. I couldn't lose anyone else in my life; I really couldn't. Burying my dad was hard enough; I couldn't say goodbye to my brothers, too. I thought about what Hudson said about God bringing us together. While I was a man of country, I wasn't a man of church. But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered what the chances were of us being brought together, of us serving together. Maybe it was God, or perhaps it was fate. Either way, I knew if I had to be in the hot-ass desert, I was happy to be here with Spence and Hudson.

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins that night. I couldn't sleep. None of us could. I heard my brothers toss and run on their cots for hours on end. This was it: what we'd trained for. This was why we were here. This was my chance to honor my father's memory and remove as much evil from the world as I possibly could. Did it bother me I wielded power to take someone's life? Not in the least bit, because I knew when they flew into the World Trade Center, killing hundreds and hundreds of people, they believed in their cause. And I believed in mine. For my country and my father, I would delight in killing as many terrorists as possible.

  At oh-six-hundred, a knock pounded on our shelter as the Captain came in and said two simple yet captivating words, "Let's go."

  We suited up. Hudson and Spence each sported a giddy grin to match mine. Everything we'd learned, everything we stood for, would be tested today. We packed the rest of our gear, most of which had already been put together in each of our multiple packs. I checked to make sure I had my bulletproo
f vest, ammo pouches, medical kit, grenades, canteen, ear plugs, night vision goggles, sunglasses, gloves, wet weather gear, helmet, and my M-4 rifle I'd named Sally. Don't ask me why.

  To civilians, it would seem nearly impossible to carry the weight into battle, but for me, it was like any other day. We'd walked miles and miles with our gear in training to prepare us. I was ready. Although, I felt like I'd traveled into the pages of Tim O'Brien's masterpiece.

  The decoy plane was set to land about twenty miles south of our base. My battalion would drive to the planned location in our military-grade convoys to meet the Taliban once they arrived to shoot the plane. Electricity in the air surged through my veins as we drove to Location X. A few men's faces glowed a bright shade of green, but the majority of us wore smirks of revenge across our faces. In a pocket, I carried a photograph of my dad. As the Captain announced we were less than five miles away, I pulled out the picture and stared intently into my father's eyes. I missed him like hell, and I still felt as though a piece of my soul was ripped away that day. I carried the burden of grief everywhere I went. But I'd never forgotten how much I loved my father and how much he loved me. It was this love that helped me carry on. My love for my father would help me through this.

  The convoys stopped, and we all lurched forward. Our Captain reported to us through our earpieces and ordered us to go outside and fall into position. In a half hour, the decoy plane would arrive and draw out the Taliban forces just in time for us to surprise them and ruin their day.

  When we emptied the convoy, my battalion picked ideal divets in the earth to post up and wait for the rat fuckers to come out of hiding. That was the hardest part: waiting for time to pass. My heart pounded forcibly against my chest, and nervousness coursed through my veins. Sweat soaked my body already, despite darkness blanketing the sky. During the night, Afghanistan dropped well below comfortable temperatures. Sometimes, the relief was much-needed, and others, I froze my ass off.