Page 7 of Pen Me

It was Spring Break somewhere, had to be. The airport was extra busy with people my age or younger scurrying everywhere. The buzz of their energy just didn’t match my own as I sat in the lounge, waiting for the chance to board my flight.

I rolled my thumb, making my ticket slide against my military discharge papers, and the envelope containing my original test results with follow up instructions that I’d jotted on the bottom. I couldn’t bring myself to return to Medical. It was too embarrassing. I didn’t even know which one was his wife.

No way.

The nurse who walked me through the instructions was more sympathetic and professional than the first, but still, I wasn’t risking a scene. I was still reeling from the one I had with my former superiors. I abruptly stopped shuffling the discharge papers around and shoved everything but the ticket into my bag when my flight was called.

As I neared the loading ramp, the television on the wall flashed to a picture with the shape ofIllinois on it. There was a star over Alton. When the screen flipped a reporter stood outside of a shady-looking bar.

“Witnesses are mum, but one thing is for certain, organized crime bubbles beneath the surface of the latest violent episode in Alton, Illinois. What started out as a beautiful evening ended with one man in intensive care last night after a known member of the notorious Outlaw Motorcycle Gang, The Dirty Savages MC attempted to slit the throat of an unsuspecting patron,” the reporter quickly summarized.

“Fucking hell,” I scoffed.

This was that shit the service saved me from.

This.

I shook my head. What the fuck was I going home to? Which one was it? My father? My brother? The last I heard of Sauce, he was patching in and proud of it. I wasn’t happy about it then, and my disposition on the matter hadn’t improved any since. He needed to be starting his life, not signing it away to that cesspool of dead-end bastards.

We hadn’t spoken since I confronted him about his decision over a Christmas Eve phone call.

I put my sunglasses on so no one would notice my misty eyes or the misery behind my smile. I hadn’t told anyone in my family I was coming home. My father was the president of an outlaw motorcycle gang, it was true. He was also a veteran, and he took pride in the fact that he had served his country with honor. How the hell was I going to tell my dad I got kicked out of the military for fraternizing?

It wasn’t a conversation I intended to have anytime soon. No, Sir.

My mother was another matter. We weren’t overly close, and anything negative in any of us kids’ lives was often blamed on our father. She couldn’t very well call my father up and chargehim with me picking out the wrong bedmate, but I had no doubt she'd try to find a way to pitch it.

I swallowed a groan as the plane took off and tried to close my eyes and nap. Everything would be fine; I told myself for the hundredth time. I’d let my best friend, Maelyn Rossi, know that I was coming home over an E-mail two days ago. I asked her not to say anything, making it seem as if I was working on a surprise arrival for my family. I kind of felt bad for not being real with her about my discharge, she thought it was just another leave.

Some friend I was.

By the time the plane landed, I had a headache. Someone was struggling to soothe a screaming infant near the front and my brow tensed with each shrill protest the baby gave, and it seemed to take forever before we were allowed to exit the aircraft.

Maelyn looked great, radiant almost, as she waved me down. She ran over and gave me a big hug that I inadvertently sank into a little bit too much. It embarrassed me when I realized I was clinging to her, and I straightened up and forced a smile.

“God, it’s good to see you.” I awkwardly laughed.

She didn’t seem to notice, she rubbed my back and guided me to my luggage. She still had the same jeep her parents had purchased for her in high school, and something about the familiarity of riding in it made my mood lighten a little. Mae chattered endlessly as we navigated the interstate toward the Mississippi.

“Yeah. I was so lucky to get that lease. The storefront is glass, but I’ll paint it and get some curtains.”

“Sounds awesome.” I smiled since she was and started to thaw enough to follow her conversation.

“Yeah, I got to doin’ senior pictures for the kids and it just took off. Everyone wants those, and then I became known in the area for weddings. Now this…” She gushed. “It feels edgy, and I love helping the women feel good about themselves. It’s empowering and I love that for them.”

“Boudoir…did you say it was called?” I vaguely thought I’d heard that through my fog.

“Yeah.” She nodded as she switched lanes for the bridge.

“It doesn’t get…weird?” I imagined photographing strangers while they stripped could be– well, weird!

“No, it’s completely professional. It isn’t like that at all,” she assured me.

I gave a slow shake of my head, unsure I could do that all day, “I’m glad you found your thing, I can tell you’re super happy about it.”

“I am. I really am.” Maelyn smiled.

She’d been so busy taking care of her terminally ill mother after high school that she put off choosing a career path. She had lamented being older than her dorm mates the first year of college once she arrived, but seemed to be faring well enough now that she was settling in with a business of her own.

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