Dear Claire,

So, I told you that I'd write to let you know that I arrived safe and sound. I have. It occurred to me after I left from base and had time to really think on all of this that I should apologize to you. I'm sorry that I laid all of this on you. I honestly hadn't given much thought to things like my bills needing to get paid in the event I was ever gone. Who really enlists assuming they're going to be deployed? Okay, some people might, but guys like me probably not!

I know it might seem like too much, but I appreciate everything you're doing for me. It's a lot to ask of you, but I wouldn't if I didn't trust you. And, yeah, maybe I should work on trusting more than just you, but I guess it's one of those things built into the way I am. I just don't do that easily. It's hard for me to trust someone who doesn't know everything about me as you do and I don't lay my past on people. Guys suspect, of course, but other than one or two it's not mentioned. Their wives or girlfriends certainly don't know. On the other hand, a positive to that, is I've learned to stop giving a shit what anyone thinks of what they see when I'm without a shirt on or wearing shorts.

I thought long and hard on who I would have asked if I didn't have you, and the only person I could come up with was James' mom. Sad that I trust his mom over my own, I know, but I really don't know who else I would have asked. All I know is if I didn't have you I probably wouldn't have the friends I do have on-base because you're the one who made me realize that friendships can be kind of nice.

If I didn't mention it while there (I think I did), thank you again for going to Sheila's with me. Regardless of how in the past you claim the misunderstanding to be, it was still real nice of you to do. I was glad to see her and hear that she's okay. I'm still not entirely sure I trust Don, but I can only hope knowing what I went through she wouldn't lie to me. If you think about it when you're home over breaks, stop by and see her and the baby once in a while just so I can be assured she's really okay. If you can't, or don't want to, I get that. She's not your concern, and really shouldn't be mine. I just know somewhere along the line my parents were like they were, you know? Young with a baby they probably thought they were going to love.

Seeing little Ericka got me thinking.

Do you want kids? I mean, not like tomorrow (at least I hope not tomorrow). I've never asked other than when I wondered if you were pregnant because I had to meet the parents and you mentioned that you hadn't been drinking at parties. We didn't really talk about it, though. I realize we'd need to be married first. It just got me thinking. You held her and you had this look in your eye. I've been told it's normal, women like babies. It sort of gave me a momentary bout of panic, though. Do you have doubts about having them with me because of how I was raised? I wouldn't blame you. I sure do!

Anyway, I'm going to sign off now before I get even deeper than I meant to. I had nothing but time on my way here to think. Thinking about you was much better than thinking about the big unknown that I was flying over here for.

I'll get this in the box so I can send it on its way to you. I was going to wait to send it (what's in the box with the letter not the letter itself) until I'd been here a couple of weeks, but I was told there may not be another chance for a while. We're kind of on twenty-four hour standby. So, I'm sending it now. I'm sorry if it seems odd I'm sending something to you when I just got here, but I saw these and thought of you. And, well, the next time I see you if you'd like to wear the wearable item and little else I wouldn't complain.

Oh, and for this month only, would you please not look at the credit card statement when it comes? Just pay it. If you do look, don't get mad at me, I took some cash out so I'd have some money in addition to these purchases. Still, it sort of takes the surprise out of buying you something when you're the one sending the check into the company later and have an idea of how much cash I had on me.

Love,

John

P.S. In case I don't get another letter off to you, drive safe when you go back to school. And try not to let that sorority house living interfere with your studying. I'm counting on you to keep making that Dean's List so you can teach all the future kids (ours included one day) of the world.

Claire had been more than a little surprised to have a box waiting for her when she got home from her day at the club with her mom and friends. Everyone was doing what they could to distract her from the fact John had left and she wouldn't see him let alone even talk to him again for months.

She'd known it was a possibility, but she never dreamed he'd be shipped off somewhere when there was no war going on. He mentioned things always going on and that made her wonder how much danger he was in.

Her dad hadn't been too pleased that Claire was now responsible for the things John had put her in charge of. He thought it was too much pressure when she had school and him being gone to worry about. Really, though, what difference would it make if she was responsible for paying a couple of credit cards or not? She'd still worry and probably get distracted from school to some degree. At least this way she felt as though she was helping him beyond writing him letters she wouldn't even be sure he got. He'd agreed eventually, realizing she was an adult and she just would have gone somewhere else to get another notary to witness her signing the documents.

She set the letter down and looked inside the box. It showed how much she missed him already that she chose to read his letter before even looking at anything else. They weren't wrapped or anything beyond some tissue paper. There was a beautiful (absolutely, positively gorgeous) silk scarf that was the most amazing blend of emerald green and purple she'd ever seen.

The other thing obviously wasn't meant to wear, but it was something she could put on her wall. She wouldn't take that school. She didn't want to risk it breaking. It was a decorative plate that looked like it might have been hand-painted.

Both things probably cost him a small fortune, never mind how much it cost him to mail the box to her, and was likely why he was asking her not to look at the credit card statement.

He'd been gone for over a month now, from visiting her anyway. She wasn't entirely positive when he left for wherever in the Mediterranean he was. He'd told her when he left Chicago that he likely wouldn't be able to call her until he was back. She'd expected it, but was still disappointed she didn't get a good-bye phone call. Judging by the postmark on the box, he'd mailed it over two weeks ago. She had no idea if regular letters took that long to get there, she hoped not.

At least she had getting ready to go back to school to distract her. She was going to live in her sorority house this year. Her dad wasn't completely thrilled she was going that route, but she'd decided dorm life wasn't for her. She suspected her parents weren't in favor of the idea because it meant John would have somewhere to stay when he visited her that didn't require them staying at a hotel for privacy.

They hadn't gotten a whole lot of time together when he'd been here. She'd expected that. He had to have, too. Her parents had to at least suspect they were having sex, though neither ever said anything to her. She wondered about that sometimes, the fact that neither of them had to this point talked to her about what she might be doing to not get pregnant.

They didn't want to think about it. She got that, but if she ever had a daughter in this same situation she'd be sure to tell them of their options to avoid pregnancy.

She pulled out her stationery and a pen, sitting on her bed to write him another letter. She'd written him a few already. She wrote to him a little bit every day and then every three or four days mailed a letter. Some days she wrote more than others, but she always wrote something, even if it was just to tell him she was thinking about him at that moment. She read his letter again before starting on hers to him.

Dear John,

Thank you so much for the scarf and the plate. They're both beautiful, the scarf especially. I'm sure you knew that I'd love them both, though. For someone who claims not to have good taste, you did exceptionally well. And, yes, as to your request. I think I can arrange to wear it when you get back. Wherever you want me to wear it even.

I know you won't be able to tell me where you are, but I hope wherever you are it's nice. Both weather and people. I wonder about that, you must be at a base or something. You said the Marines are kind of part of the Navy. I know that's not how you explained it, but that's what I got out of your explanation anyway. So, maybe a Naval base? I shouldn't try to figure it out, but I hate not knowing. Of course wherever you are I hope it's nice, too, from a safety standpoint, but I try not to think about the fact you may not be safe. It makes me feel better just assuming you're over “there” drawing something or someone important with absolutely no possibility of encountering any danger.

Mom and I played tennis this morning. I did all right, but she won as she usually does. I never really paid attention to how good she was until this summer when I've needed to keep myself busy so I've taken her up on her offers to play. She's no Martina Navratilova or anything, but she's really very good for someone who doesn't like to play in front of people. It makes me wonder if she hadn't had Christopher and me if she'd have been able to play professionally.

I had a dream last night about you. I know I shouldn't say anything specific, so I'll just say it was about our last night at the lake house. You can imagine the rest. If not, well, I'm writing down the details of the dream for you so you can read it later. It was a very nice dream, except I woke up missing you. Then, I do that anyway, but I hated the fact you weren't here. Even your time on leave here, waking up to you just at the house not even in bed with me was nice.

Dad says I'll be back at school soon and things will get better. He's right, I know that. I can't wait to get my room set up. I liked Amy, don't get me wrong, but I'll have my own room! I just wasn't made to share such a small space with someone for long periods of time. It'll be so nice not to worry that I'm studying too late and keeping someone awake. Or that I can't talk to you the way I'd like to because she's there when you call. (We'll ignore the fact that I don't know when you'll actually be able to call.)

My brother is meeting us at the club for dinner tonight. I actually only came home to change and get ready for dinner when I saw the box waiting for me. It was a nice thing to come home to! I'll wear the scarf tonight. I have a dress that it'll look absolutely divine with. Thank you again! I hate that you spend money on me, but you already know that. And okay, I don't actually hate it, but I hate that you seem to think you need to. You don't.

You asked about kids. I almost didn't answer because I wasn't sure you really wanted an answer. I know my life wasn't the same as yours, but I have doubts, too. Neither of us had the best examples, I guess. I always said in high school when their fighting and games got real bad that I'd never have them.

That was before I fell in love with you, though. My future at the time was rather hazy. You know? It's becoming clearer, and you are in what I envision.

So, yes, I would have them, but only if you wanted them, too. I wouldn't want you to have one because I want to or you think I want to so we should. I think kids should be wanted from the beginning or it's kind of a screwy way to even begin.

Yes, I know accidents happen like with Sheila so please don't think I'm saying people like her are bad parents. I'm not, just that it has to help the situation wanting them from the part of trying for one. In a few years when I'm done with school and everything, and we've actually had time to spend together for a while, yes, I would.

Is that the answer you wanted? I'm not sure. Maybe you were hoping I'd say no. As to doubts about you being a father. I have none. You told me how you handled the situation with James' sister. If you had any part of your parents in you, you wouldn't have been so calm about it. You also agreed to let me handle the egging of my car situation even though we both suspect it was her. (And, no, nothing else has happened since that night, so maybe she got over her frustrations and has moved onto someone who isn't my boyfriend.)

Anyway, I'll write more tomorrow as I always do.

Love always,

Claire

It was sort of ironic that she got something from him today, because she had been shopping this week for things to send him. She couldn't send him cookies like she had in the past, but she remembered the things he talked about liking best and she was working on putting a box together for him. She remembered, too, the practical things like eye drops, Chap Stick, socks, and boot laces she'd sent him that at the time seemed super silly but he'd commented more than once on their usefulness and that useful things weren't bad.

She had no idea when he'd get the box. She hated that part the most. All of the edible things she bought like nuts and Pop-Tarts were good forever, so she wasn't worried about them spoiling or expiring, but she just hated sending him something not knowing if he even got it.

She folded the letter up, putting it in the envelope with the other letters from the past couple of days and stashed it in her nightstand drawer. She didn't think her mom searched her room, but Claire wouldn't put it past her. Though what her mom hoped to find, Claire wasn't sure. She hadn't smoked pot in the house since high school. She didn't really drink much. She certainly wouldn't keep either thing in her room if she even had it on her. She kept her birth control pills in her purse, which her mom seemed to respect the privacy of. Claire never suspected her mom of searching through that. An unspoken rule between women, she supposed. You just didn't touch another woman's purse, no matter what.

Five more months. She could do this. Her brother had asked her if she wanted to do it. Claire hadn't even thought of the possibility of ending things with John. His getting deployed wasn't his fault, certainly not something to break up with him about. It would be a long five months (she was hoping it was five and not six, but she'd heard him say six or seven months), but it wasn't anything hundreds of other women hadn't gone through.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com