One More for Love The Story: Chapter 10 - Good Night

“Dude! How was your Christmas break?” asked Bobby as I entered the break room on my first day back to work.

        
“Brutal bro.  Melissa and I broke up on Christmas Eve.” I responded sitting down at the computer next to his.

“Are you serious? So I guess it was like the worst Christmas ever.”

“Not exactly…”

I went on to tell Bobby how I’d found out Melissa was cheating and how I felt more relieved than saddened by the whole experience.  By the time the story was over, I was fully logged onto my work computer, checking my email and secretly wishing I could check my new MySpace account to see if I’d been friended by any of the local ladies. 

Even though I was single and internet mingling, I was excited to be back at work.  I was sure that Stacy and I had both opted to take Christmas break off and not the New Year’s break, which meant she’d be back at work the same night I was and I could not wait to tell her the latest and final story in the chronicles of Melissa.  Just as the thought had entered my mind, a civilian mechanic named Gordon, who was better known for spreading rumors than for troubleshooting aircraft, sat down next to me and began to log into a computer.

“So Hart, did you hear about Sergeant Morey?” he said, giddy with gossip.

“What do you mean?” I usually didn’t encourage his story telling, but if it was about Stacy and had any truth to it, I had to hear him out.

“You mean you don’t know?” he asked, reminding me why I don’t like to talk to him.

“Just tell me.” I said, impatiently.

“She’s getting deployed.” I paused, stunned.

“How do you know?” I asked, flustered.  “How’s she gonna close on her house?”

“I heard the shift chief talking about it.  I guess she’s been trying to get out of it because she has to close, but they’re sending her anyway.  She does not want to go.”

“I’ll bet she’s devastated.  She really wanted to be here to close on that house.  What time’s she coming in tonight?”

“Coming in tonight? She leaves for the desert in two weeks.  She’s on leave then she’s on a plane to the sand pit man.  We won’t see her for another five months at least.”

“Five months?” In disbelief, I immediately logged off the computer and went on a hunt for information from a few more reliable sources.

After checking with the shift chiefs and supervisors, I found out that everything Gordon said was true.  Stacy was on leave until a few days before her departure, just enough time to out-process and get on a plane going over the ocean.  She had put a tremendous amount of time and effort into having her new house built and was devastated by the idea of not being able to close and begin to create a home with her own personal decorative touches.  But, when it comes to the military, her time had come and there was nothing she could do but accept her fate and step on that plane…it’s what she signed up for.

I felt numb.  If I would have known the last time I saw Stacy I wouldn’t be seeing her again for almost half a year, I would have at least told her goodbye.  I would have told her how much I appreciate her friendship.  I would have told her how the nights we worked together went by in a flash while the nights I worked without her dragged on for hours on end.  I would have hugged her. Not a romantic embrace, but a hug to tell her to be safe and to come home in one piece.

I had never been deployed and was afraid of the things I didn’t know.  I had no idea where she’d be or what she’d be doing.  I didn’t know what kind of danger she might be in or how close to the war zone she’d be. All I knew was…she’d be at war.

I had heard enough stories to know that most of the assignments for aircraft mechanics were at an airport away from danger.  But, many times to get from the hotel or barracks they used for lodging to the airport would require a convoy or travel through towns where stopping was not an option.  The vehicle went full speed from point A to point B, and improvised explosive devices (IED’s) were a constant threat.  Many of my fellow military co-workers had informed me of how far away from the action they were and how being deployed was no big deal, but for every five stories of safety there was one story of mortar rounds going off so loud they would shake the barracks like an earthquake.  

My thoughts were in a tail spin.  I began to envision what Stacy would be telling her family while they were sitting around the dinner table on the last week before her deployment.  Was she scared?  Or was she playing it down like it was going to be no big deal?  I felt cheated.  I was aware enough of the dynamic of our relationship to know that even though she was a big part of my life, I was a small part of hers, but why didn’t she tell me?  I had to find out from Gordon in the break room?  She couldn’t have sent me a text? Or given me a phone call?  It wasn’t fair. 

That night was one of the longest nights of my life.  I cycled between selfishness and worry until I eventually coped with the idea that what was done was done, there was nothing I could do to change things, and the sooner I realized that her world didn’t revolve around me, the better off I’d be.

On my drive home that morning, I made a decision that the best thing I could do for myself was not to think about it and move on.  My thoughts were tied to my emotions and I wasn’t doing myself any favors by spending my emotional energy on a woman who was in a relationship and would soon be thousands of miles away.  This approach seemed to work until one night when I was out looking for love on the Dover bar scene; I ran into Chris Bollard.