Just Fluff and Stuff

At the Door

Eight hundred, fifty-three days and counting. They warn you ahead of time how hard it can be. Not just for the soldiers, but also for those they leave at home. Duke said we didn't have to get married, just in case, but I insisted he have something solid and sure to come home to. I wasn't going anywhere. I chose this when I chose him as the love of my life.

I didn't have to work, I knew that, but it kept me busy each day that he was gone. I sent prayers to the skies every morning and every evening to watch over my husband. I kept a routine. I visited with the other military families that were friends of ours. I kept everything ready at home for him to return at a moments notice. That's where I was today, coming in the door from work to begin my night routine.

I hung up my coat and put my boots on the drying mat. I shook my head to dislodge the snowflakes that clung to my hair during the walk in from the car. I checked my home phone for messages. There was one from his parents asking if I was coming over for dinner some time soon. I smiled and emptied my pockets on the hall table.

My keys and change all went into the dish on the right, the dish on the left held Duke's keys and a couple of his favourite candies. I went into the living room and watched television for an hour. Then I cleaned the bathroom. It really needed to be done. I put on some hot water to boil for some pasta and started on the sauce. When it was starting to bubble nicely, I threw in the noodles and set the timer.

I set one place at the table and poured one glass of milk to go with dinner. I loaded my plate and finished it with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese. It smelled good. It tasted pretty good. The music from the radio in the kitchen filtered into the dining area and I listened to the Christmas carols nostalgically. The snow swirled outside, blocking the neighbourhood from view.

I was putting my dishes on the counter when the knock came from the door. It took me a second to register that it was coming from my door at this very moment. Did Vicky forget her keys again? There was only so many times I felt a person should get locked out of their own house. I opened the door with a smile and it just got bigger when I saw who was standing there.

It was Duke. He looked just like I remembered him. He grinned as I ignored the cold and snow and leapt into his arms. I hugged him tightly, breathing in the smell of his cologne and feeling his body against mine. I was shaking when he carried me inside. The door shut behind us, and then he managed to shuck off his boots and carry me to the couch without putting me down once.

"What...? How...?" I sputtered into the crook of his neck. His gripped me tightly in a hug.

"I can't stay long." His voice washed over me like a balm to the misery of the past two years and then some. I wiped my tears and put my forehead against his, just staring into those eyes that I had missed so much. He grinned at me, mischievously, before flopping on the couch and smushing me against him. We just cuddled, not moving or speaking for who knows how long.

"Want to watch a movie?" I asked him. He nodded. I set up the television and put on the movie Monsters Inc. He laughed and held me close the whole time. It was perfect. Like he had never even left. We were newlyweds again, making eyes at each other as the movie came to an end. He carried me to our bedroom and laid me on the thick coverlet.

His mouth connected to mine. I kissed back fervently. He peeled away my clothes and I stripped him of his. We stared at each other, gently memorising the planes and curves of each others bodies once more. He prepared me gently, and I received him gladly. Our passion filled the room with the sounds of our lovemaking. It went on for hours, until I was on the brink of sleep.

"I love you. Never forget that I love you." I hear him whisper into the shell of my ear as I teeter on the edge of consciousness. I love you too, I think to myself without the ability to form the words. My vision is blurred, I am drifting away to dreams. I wake up to the sound of the snowplough going by. The spot next to me is strangely empty.

I throw on some pajamas and tiptoe through the house. There is the remains of my dinner, the movie case still out on the coffee table, no boots or sign of him. Not even a drop of water to show that he was there. A knock comes from the door and I go over to open it. Maybe he went outside? Did he just get locked out? I swing the door open and a soldier stands there in a nice pressed suit with a single white envelope.

A/N ...excuse me while I go sob in a corner somewhere...