My Last(36)

“If you don’t want the answer,” they both finished in unison.

“How is the Colonel?” Riley asked, the affection he obviously felt for him shining through.

“Good,” Chelle was happy to report, “He’s slowing down a little, but what can you expect? He’s about to be ninety. His age has done nothing to dull his sharpness, though. He’s just as feisty as ever.”

“Man, I’ve missed the Colonel,” Riley said with a nostalgic grin, “I’m really looking forward to catching up with him.”

“I didn’t realize you two were close,” Chelle said.

“Yeah, he moved to town right after we lost Mom, and I was…well you probably remember. I was mad at the world, kept getting into trouble. Then, the night I got taken in for the B&E at the grocery store, the Colonel happened to be taking his nightly stroll and saw them hauling me into the police station.

“He came in and got them to release me to him and drop the charges. I still don’t know how he did it. On the walk back to my house we had a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting about the reality of what my life would be if I continued heading down the destructive path I was on.

“He told me he had lost both of his parents to measles when he was sixteen and, due to the sudden loss, he went a little crazy and started acting out. Then he told me that the only one who could ruin my life was me, and I was also the only one who could make something productive out of myself.

“I called him the next day and he drove me to the recruitment office. I had just turned eighteen, which was part of the reason why the Colonel was so concerned. I was of legal age and my record could have been ruined. I left the day after graduation, which was a few weeks later, and I really haven’t had the chance to thank him for taking the time to help me pull my head out of my ass.”

“You know he has a Facebook page right?” Chelle offered, knowing that he would still want to thank him face to face, but also thinking he might like to keep in touch with him when he moved to Louisiana.

Riley eyes widened in shock and he laughed a little, “You’re kidding me. Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Chelle smiled, “and he has more ‘friends’ than I do.”

“Wow, well I guess I’ll have to send him a friend request.”

“You should, I think he would love that,” Chelle said. But what she wanted to say was, ‘Great, and hey - why don’t you send me one, too? That way I can torture myself with your updates while you're meeting ten thousand available women in the bar you own in New Orleans.’

But...probably good that she showed restraint. She looked down at her plate and realized she had cut her pancake into pizza slices. She smiled, realizing that she hadn’t done that since she was a kid.

“I almost sent you a friend request.” Riley’s voice sounded a little more serious, and Chelle's eyes darted up meet his. Yep, he looked serious, alright.

“Why didn’t you?” she asked somewhat hesitantly. If she was completely honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“You were engaged, I didn’t want to overstep. I wasn’t sure how David would feel about it.”

Chelle scrunched her brows, “David wouldn’t have cared. He never got jealous over stuff like that. Actually, he never got jealous about anything...but I guess now we know why.”

So much of David’s behavior made sense in light of everything that she now knew about his extra-curricular activities. Including (but not limited to!) the fact that they hadn’t slept together in over six months.

Holy Flipping Moly!

It really had been over six months.

What in the name of frickety frack had she been thinking during that time? She searched her memory. She vaguely remembered attributing it to him being tired, working long hours, the stress of the wedding...she shook her head. It made her blood run cold to think about it now, but she mainly remembered...well, frankly...not giving it a second thought.

“Well, I didn’t know that. The last thing I would want to do is to put you in an awkward position by having to decline my friend request.” He smiled and she knew he was teasing her, but she still wanted to make sure that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that would never happen. Self-deprecating jokes, after all, do often have their roots in real insecurities.

“Riley,” she said solemnly, putting down her fork, “It doesn’t matter who I am with - I could be married with five kids - and I will still accept your friend request.”

Riley's eyes grew a little darker and his expression grew grim, but before she had a chance to follow up by asking him what was wrong, what she had said to upset him, he abruptly changed course.