Aaron's a barely visible god as he gathers my things in the light that's filtering through the window, and I'm reminded of the nights under the moonlight at West Point. Aaron brings me my things, and I make a quick visit to the bathroom to wash.
We walk back to the living room hand-in-hand, and when we reach the living room, Aaron lets go to go to the kitchen, where he comes back a moment later with a lantern flashlight. “First time the power went out here. All I have is my TA-50 flashlight,” he says, setting the little lamp down. “So I bought this. Not much, but it only needs a single triple A to run. How's Lance?”
“Out like the power.” I chuckle, going over to Aaron and wrapping my arms around him.
We sit down on the couch, and I snuggle against his chest. I can just hear his heartbeat in my right ear, and I'm comforted, safe and happy when he wraps his arms around me. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.”
“What?” Aaron says, both of us keeping our voices low. It's not that we're worried about waking Lance. He's sleeping through a thunderstorm, after all, but just that there's no need to raise our voices. Not right now.
“The whole time, were you really celibate?”
Aaron chuckles and nods. “Yes. A few times I tried, especially when I was at the Academy, but every time I got to that big tipping point, I couldn’t.”
“And how did you take care of that physical need?” I ask shyly. “My best friend sent me a vibrator that I got very familiar with.”
“No vibrator here,” Aaron teases, then chuckles. “Let's just say I spent extra time in the shower.”
“Hmm, a shower . . . we never did try that,” I purr. “We should try that next time. And . . .”
“And what?”
“Next time,” I reply, knowing that while I'm not ashamed, there are other things to talk about. “So I guess this means . . .”
“Seems so,” Aaron says, kissing my neck and making me shiver. “Are you worried?”
“A bit,” I admit. “We may be Lindsey and Aaron, but there's a whole base that thinks otherwise.”
“We did it before, when I was under a lot bigger microscope,” Aaron reassures me. “At least now, we can leave post. I don't know how we'll handle it with Lance, but . . . to be honest, I don't care.”
“It could cost you your career. Mine too,” I whisper, and Aaron shrugs.
“Any Army that won't let me have you in my arms, let me have Lance as my son, is not an Army I want to serve in,” Aaron says with deep intensity. “We'll figure it out.”
“So you do understand that I'm not a single woman anymore,” I hum happily. “I'm a package deal, you know.”
“Which is exactly what I want,” Aaron says, turning my head and kissing me softly. “I want you, and I’m going to be his father. I know I missed a lot of time, but I’m over it. It’s time to look to the future.”
Monday afternoon, and I'm thinking about the weekend. Sunday was perfect, with Lance happy to wake up after a 'sleepover' at Aaron's house. Aaron brought back breakfast from the store before we left to go home. Now, finishing up my work, I'm smiling lightly the whole day, my body still tingling.
I get an email on my computer, and I see that it's from Beanie. It's a bit more info about me re-upping, and I think about it, wondering. After this weekend, I'm leaning toward leaving the Army, but where am I supposed to go? I know that even with the feelings that I have for Aaron, I don't want to become an 'Army wife,' where most of my life is controlled by his deployments, his chain of command, and the whims of his commanders. Some of them love it, but it’s just not for me.
Maybe I can talk it over with Aaron. I know that this is a decision that really hinges on him as much as me. I send a quick reply to Beanie, thanking him and letting him know that I'm still thinking about it, then I get ready to leave the office. The nice part about being in the Adjutant General's Corps is that I rarely have to waste time with end of day formations. I just leave the office. I enjoy it as I see infantry units getting together for their end of day formations, some of the troops looking pretty tired and raggedy after a long day.
I get to the post daycare center, parking and going up to the entrance. Fort Bragg is pretty relaxed about soldiers visiting their kids. The post commander knows that troops work weird hours and sometimes that one-hour gap in the middle of the day might be the only chance a soldier has to see their kid awake, so the staff is on a first-name basis with nearly everyone.
“Hey, Lindsey,” Jill, the lady at the front desk, says. “How was your Monday?”