Pulling out the project, I held it out to her. That’s my heart in your hands, I thought. No one in the store said a word. It was as if we were all holding our collective breaths.
And then…then Sam started to sob. “Oh God, Sam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what I’d done, but I was damn sorry for it. Actually I’d done so many shitty things that I probably couldn’t say those words enough. She allowed me to cradle her in my arms. Sound burst all around us. Mrs. Bend was trying to explain that I was a dear boy, and Dorothy was fluttering around looking for tissues.
I didn’t know if I should take Sam to the back where there was a sofa or out to my truck. What I did know was that I wasn’t letting go of her.
Pushing away from me slightly, Sam made the decision for me. Wiping her tears with the backs of her hand, she held the blue bit of yarn between us. “Did you make this for me?”
I nodded. “It’s the stars portion of your afghan. Mrs. Bend was trying to teach me your interstitial—no, intarsia—technique. See,” I pointed to a blotch of white, “that’s supposed to be a star.”
She started laughing and crying at the same time. “This is about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Through her tears she beamed at me. “You really do love me, don’t you, Gray Phillips?”
“I really do, Samantha Anderson. More than the world has stars, I love you.”
I wasn’t an officer and not much of a gentleman, but I could carry the shit out of stuff. Scooping Sam into my arms, I carried her out the Knit Together shop.
“So much better than the Lion yarn trunk show, Margo.”
EPILOGUE
Samantha
"IF YOU AREN'T READY IN the next minute, I'm leaving without you," I yelled down the hall. My roommate Karen was still primping in the bathroom. We were both on our way to meet the boat down at the Dock. Karen's girlfriend was in the Navy. The Navy carried the Marines everywhere, or almost everywhere, so if a Navy guy comes over to the Marine base everyone thanks him for the "ride."
Pausing in front of the entryway mirror, I double-checked my appearance. Karen had used a flat iron to make big beach waves in my hair, and I'd applied eyeliner, mascara, and a little blush. I probably didn't need the blush. My cheeks were red with excitement. No lipstick, Karen counseled, because Gray would eat it all off in the first five seconds of getting off the boat. That made me more excited than it probably should have.
The six-month separation had been difficult because it came so soon, just a couple months after I’d arrived in San Diego. Gray had re-enlisted and then got sent to the Phillippines. His duties included drinking snake venom with the Philippine Army, at least according to one of his platoon members. Out of all the tall tales that his friends liked to joke about, that was actually one I believed.
Karen's girlfriend was a medic, and we’d met when I was looking for an apartment to rent. Gray said it made sense to room with someone to defray the apartment costs, particularly when I wasn't going to be spending a lot of time there. The military frowned upon single men cohabiting. It would've been easier for Karen and her girlfriend to get by together, but since Rose had come out, they’d decided not to push it.
It made for a perfect set up. Rose spent most of her time with Karen in our apartment, and I spent most of my time with Gray in his. None of us were "living" together in violation of the unwritten rules of the Corps, but I hadn’t slept one entire night in my apartment. Even with Gray gone, I liked to sleep in our bed, wrapped in his scent, surrounded by his things.
It was hard on Gray to be gone. He struggled with his issues of jealousy and trust, so I did what I could to allay those concerns. When we Skyped, which we could do regularly, I gave him a general rundown of my day, including who I might have seen or run into. He never once asked, trying hard to show me how much he trusted me and how much he'd grown, but why torment him, I thought. Besides I liked sharing what I'd been doing. It made us seem closer even though we were miles apart.
Today he was coming home, though, and I wanted to make his homecoming special. I waxed, shaved, plucked, and perfumed every inch of my body. Underneath his favorite dress—the red-and-white polka-dotted one I wore when I first returned to him—I had brand new panties and a red-and-white polka-dotted lace bra. My three-inch heels would make it easier for him to kiss me, I figured. I dabbed a bit of my favorite citrus perfume on the backs of my ears and a little in the small valley of my breasts. Over the top I added a white cardigan. It was colder now, and I needed it.
Karen finally charged out of her bedroom dressed in high-waisted grey checked slacks and a fire-engine-red poet's shirt with billowy sleeves. Her hair was styled Katherine Hepburn-esque with soft waves molded close to her head. She looked like the embodiment of a 1950s glamorous actress.