“Lindsey. I got your text. What's up?”
There's a pause, and I hear her tell Lance that she needs to step outside to talk on the phone about adult things, and the creak of her screen door opening and closing. “Hey, sorry about the delay. He's happily eating his dinner. So how was your day?”
“I've had better,” I admit. “One of my troopers had to go to the hospital. But what's up with your message?”
“Well . . . after seeing what Lance made for you in daycare, I made a decision. I think we should tell Lance who his father is. The four-day training holiday is coming up the weekend after next.”
I stop, stunned. “You know I’m all for it. But are you sure?”
“I’m positive. You should see the card he had his teachers help him write for you. It says, Big Brother Aaron, Thank you for the sleepover. I love you. Your Little Brother, Lance. The only thing I can think of that would make it better is if it said Daddy on it.”
I’m stunned, unable to form any words. I take a few seconds, then compose myself with a deep breath, ready to say the words I never did before, but I won’t hold back any longer. “I love you, Lindsey. I've loved you for years, and I don't want to lie about that anymore. I can’t wait to be a father to Lance.”
There's a moment of silence, and I pause, standing outside the company building when Lindsey speaks again. “I love you too, Aaron.”
I can't help the smile that's on my face. Finally, it's out. “Okay. Listen, I've got some company stuff to take care of, then we can talk maybe Thursday afternoon, make some plans?”
“That sounds good. Talk to you later, Aaron. I . . . I love you.”
“I love you too, Lindsey. Good bye.” I put my phone away, and I’m practically whistling when I head into the company offices, stopping when Captain Bradley calls my name.
“Lieutenant Simpson!”
There's nobody else in the office, but the CO sounds pissed, and some of my good mood evaporates as I head to his office. “Sir?”
Bradley's got his glare going, he and points at the chair across the desk from him. “Sit down, Simpson.”
He never calls me by just my last name anymore unless he's pissed about something. Fuck it, time to man up. “Sir?”
“You should be more careful about your phone conversations, Lieutenant. I happened to have my window open, and I overheard you,” Captain Bradley says, fuming. “Now, thank God that nobody else in the goddamn company knows who Lindsey is, but I happen to because I processed the paperwork on your enrollment for this Big Brothers program. For fuck's sake, Simpson, what the hell are you thinking?”
“Sir . . .” I start, then shut up. Nothing to say, really. “What happens now, sir?”
“What happens is, I'd like to bust your ass,” Captain Bradley says, slamming his fist down on his desk. “I'd like to have you standing tall before the man. However, I can't. I've already got our asses in a sling with the Hardy situation, and now you've got another soldier in the goddamn hospital because you're too busy fucking some admin clerk in the MPs instead of being a good platoon leader!”
That pisses me off, and I glare at him, my jaw quivering. “My personal life has nothing to do with these incidents. Nadar slipped on mud, completely out of my control. And I take offense that you're even insinuating that I would be that unprofessional.”
“Don't you dare talk to me about being unprofessional!” Bradley hisses, his eyes blazing. “You . . . of all the fucking rules to violate, fraternization? Fuck, man, isn't there enough pussy running around Fayetteville that you could have kept yourself satisfied outside of post? Fayetteville girls nearly walk bowlegged because of the 82nd!”
“I don't operate that way, Captain. So, what are you going to do?” I ask, ready to feel the hammer drop. “Do I need to talk to JAG?”
Bradley stares at me, fuming for a long minute before shaking his head. “No. First off, I can't stop your promotion, and busting your ass days before you pin 1LT is going to embarrass the battalion commander, who's already informed me that he would like to be the one to pin you Thursday morning at the officer's professional development meeting. Second, if I bring you up on charges or an Article 15, the whole deal for Hardy goes out the window, and he's going before a court martial. I won't have a trooper under my command suffer because his Lieutenant can't stick his dick in the right place. But I’m giving you a direct order. You will break it off with this Lindsey. Do you understand me?”
“I hear you, Captain. Is that all, sir?”