I spit.
“I don’t feel awkward,” she said, leaning against the door frame. “I mean, we’re married. Married people do that sometimes.”
“Yeah.” I walked past her in the doorway, still smelling the cucumber of her shampoo. I pushed it away. I found a pad of paper in a drawer in the bedside table, and lugged my bag on my back.
“Word,” she said, grabbing her purse and giving me a winning smile. “Awkward silence it is.”
“I don’t feel awkward. I’m just focused.”
“I get it, I get it,” she said. “I mean, I don’t fully get what it feels like, but, yeah. I get it.”
I closed the door and we descended down the stairs. Cassie jogged over to drop the room key in the slot next to the lobby.
We got into the Subaru.
“Here,” I said as we clicked our seat belts. I handed her the piece of motel stationery on which I had written Jacob’s phone number. “You’re my next of kin now.”
She kept her eyes down, reading. “I know.”
She put it in her pocket.
“If anything happens to me, they’re going to come to you.”
Cassie took a deep, shaky breath, backing out of the parking space. “Okay. Yeah, that makes sense.”
The morning light shone through the windshield. So much buildup for deployment, so much training for this day, and it was finally here. No turning back. Whether or not I was a coward, whether or not I deserved to make my life better, it was already decided for me. Either I would get through the next nine months, or I wouldn’t. Starting today.
At the American Airlines drop-off, Frankie and Armando stood, their eyes on every car that passed. When they saw us pull up, they jogged over. I got out of the car.
“Damn, Morrow!” Armando said. “We thought you were going to miss the flight.”
“Let’s go, dude,” Frankie said.
Cassie stood next to the driver’s side, the car idling.
“Salazar, come here,” Frankie said. Cassie came to the other side of the car, and they embraced, speaking quietly to each other. They parted, and Frankie and Armando made their way to the curb, waiting.
I took my bag out of the trunk, and as I passed her, I brushed my hand on her shoulder. “Well,” I said.
“So your brother, Jacob,” she said, touching her pocket. “I guess, have you made arrangements with him in case of, uh, emergency?”
I nodded, squeezing the straps of my bag. “Jake would take care of things.”
“Jacob Morrow,” she said. “In Buda, right?”
“Right.” I got closer to her, speaking low into her ear. “You can tell him about us. Just make sure that you come up with a story for my dad.”
She nodded. “Skype in a couple weeks?”
“If there’s access, yes.” A car behind Cassie’s honked. We ignored it. A pigeon came fluttering down to her feet. We both glanced down, and when we looked up, we realized Armando and Frankie were still looking at us. As far as Armando was concerned, we were still husband and wife. Not only were we married, this would be the last time we saw each other for almost a year. And we were in love. Cassie took a deep breath. One more time.
I leaned down, closed my eyes, and this one was right on target. Soft. She took my face in her hands. My fingertips found her waist. For a moment, the world went quiet. We breathed each other in.
I lingered there until Frankie shouted. When I took a step back, I still couldn’t quite let go, even as she got in the car and drove off. Even as I boarded our flight and I watched Texas and everyone I knew fade away.
Cassie
I was pacing outside Nora’s house, eating handful after handful of raw almond slivers out of a plastic bag, wearing a fringed shawl and high, black witchy boots. Reality check: Every detail surrounding the last two days was very real, and yet did not fit together, like pieces of various jigsaw puzzles. Luke and I were married （the piece with the ring on a finger）， we had consummated （hotel key）， and I had his handwriting in my pocket in case I forgot his family name. We had woken up （his bare shoulder）， gone to the airport （the plane icon）， and I had made out with him in front of all of his friends like the nurse in that World War II photo, but with less back flexibility. We would now be thousands of miles apart for longer than we had known each other. Where did all of it lead? All I knew was that it was Fleetwood Friday, and my first deposit of one thousand dollars would arrive in two weeks.
“Come on, Nor,” I muttered, checking my phone. I had asked her to meet me early before practice tonight so I could make sure I didn’t invent all of this out of some delusional psychotic episode due to low blood sugar. I needed her to tell me everything was going to be okay.