Page 5 of Service and Sacrifice
She braked to a stop and looked around atthe empty lot as she parked the car. Her gaze flicked towards thecrest of the hill, searching, and she didn’t know if she should berelieved or disappointed when no one waited for her there,either.
Blanket, water, and scrapbook in hand, sheclosed the door and shoved the keys into her pocket. Same car,different story this year. She’d gotten an anonymous giftcertificate in the mail about six months ago for the local repairshop, and it had been more than enough to cover the work needed. Nomore half-done fixes; everything was running smoothly now. She justwished she knew who to thank.
At Martin’s grave, she’d already spread herblanket and gotten set up before she noticed the addition. A crisp,new American flag had been placed next to the headstone, and thegranite looked wet. She touched it with her fingers and lifted themto her nose, sniffing delicately. The liquid held the distinctiveodor of whiskey.
Amanda looked around again, hopeful, evenknowing she wasalone.Tears slid down hercheeks. For today, this one day, she’d allow herself to feel thegrief that never seemed to truly leave.
“I miss you.”
She did, probably always would. But as thebiker had promised, the past few months had crept around a cornersomehow, and life had gotten easier.
“I got a new job. Did I tell you?” Anopening had been posted on social media for a night manager at alocal hotel. She’d stared for a long time at the pile of bills thatnever seemed to get any smaller and had called the next day tobegin the application process. “Started last month.”
She wiped both cheeks before picking up thescrapbook, and she flipped towards the back. As her fingers workedthrough the pages, she quietly told him, “That’s why I haven’t beenhere as much.” The night shift hours were wrecking her head, butafter nearly six weeks into it, she felt like she was finally inthe groove. The first time she’d slept through her normal visit tothe graveyard, however, she’d lost it, climbing into the shower inher pajamas and huddling under the spray, crying until the waterran cold.I can’t tell him that. The illogical nature of herthoughts didn’t matter, because on this anniversary of his death,for this span of time, these hours spent here one day a year, itwas all his.
“Another local boy died a few months agoduring his deployment. We went to school with his older brother.”She flipped the pages until she found the one with the clipping.“There was a big honor ride, just like with you.” Gently,reverently, she smoothed out the edges of the newsprint. “Alex wasthere. I didn’t see him myself, but he’s in this picture.” Shetouched the image, careful to keep away from his face. She had twospare papers stashed in a crate at home in case she needed toreplace the article inserted into the scrapbook, but she wanted tokeep it as pristine as possible. “You remember him. He was herewith me for a while last year.”
After he’d left, riding away into thesunset, she’d curled up on the blanket and wept more, sobbingherself to sleep, awakened by the calls of coyotes in nearbyfields. Cold and stiff, she’d gathered up everything and trekkedback to the car. Alone.
She glanced at the flag. “Was he here beforeme?” He hadn’t wanted to intrude, she remembered him sayingthat.
She remembered everything he’d said.
For the first month after meeting him, herdreams had seemed evenly split between Martin and him.
Martin’s were always the same, movie reelsof the milestones in their lives. High school prom, graduation,wedding, officer school graduation, first deployment. Known events,ones that made her smile upon waking, until she remembered and thereality of her life came crashing back in on her.
The ones featuring Alex had been different,more like an old Technicolor movie where the hero was aswashbuckling larger-than-life character, always setting out tosave the damsel in distress. She was consistently cast as thedamsel, and as weeks went on, her swooning reactions to hisappearance became more and more erotic. She’d woken just yesterdaymorning with her hand in her panties, shocked to find anunfamiliarslippery wetness there when shechanged her underwear.
Cheeks flaming hot, she ignored thosethoughts as she flipped more pages in the scrapbook. This was partof the ritual she’d missed last year, and Amanda was determined tostay on track today. She began the familiar recital of all thethings that made up their lives. “Do you remember when…”
A couple of hours later she was back besidethe car, blanket held high in the air as she folded it intomanageable squares. She heard motorcycles in the distance, comingcloser, and clutched the material to her in anticipation. Nervesshe didn’t know she still had zinged through her chest and belly,and she turned to catch the first glimpse of the riders.
There, at the very front of the line ofbikes, was Alex. His head turnedandhe gaveher a graceful wave with his free hand. The riders behind himlooked at her, heads swiveling to match Alex’s, and a few handsrose in a similar wave. She lifted her hand in response, holdingher breath until they’d completely passed by, the roar and thunderof their pipes fading just as quickly as it had swelled.
Hands shaking, she finished folding theblanket and tucked it away, then climbed into the car. Amanda satthere a moment, fingers tight around the steering wheel.
He’d remembered.
Six
Monk
The cemetery disappeared into the distance,and Monk settled deeper into the seat of his bike. Even without thereminder on his calendar this morning, he’d known he would bedetouring the planned ride to pass by the place where Amanda’shusband lay.
The past year had started out as a shitstormof epic proportions.Bladehad wrecked out,and for a couple ofdaysit hadn’t looked likehe’d make it at all. Then the docs weren’t sure if he’d be the sameif he woke up. He’d proven them wrong, and Monk had been therebeside him every step of the way, his arms the first to help hisbrother stand, his voice the loudest one arguing with the man whenBlade wanted to give up.
There’d been plenty of that, too. In quicksuccession, he’d attended funerals of three men he’d served withoverseas. Gun, drugs, and a bridge abutment had been their exits ofchoice, and he’d stood at the foot of each grave, back straight,chin lifted, trying not to see the faces of the family they’d leftbehind.
Just yesterday, Blade had thanked him, histersely spoken, “Don’t know what I’d’a done without you, brother,”music to Monk’s ears.
A year ago today, his brothers had askedwhere he’d been, and Monk hadn’t offered the real story,insteadgiving out winks and nods that letthem draw their own conclusions, all of them wrong.
Not that he would have minded theirversions. Not at all, and his body had reinforced the idea sincehis cock stood at half-mast whenever he thought about Amanda. Noteven needing one of the little blue pills he hoarded like a miser.Amandain his lap? Boom, stiffy. Amandasmiling at him as she said the ridiculous word “ixnay” and yeap,stiffy. Amanda touching him, palm to his chest as she offeredheartfelt condolences over the death of a woman she’d never met?Wham, stiffy. That one he’d acted on, and found the orgasm easierto chase, the ending more satisfying than any he couldremember.
The BFMC had a support club in her town, andhe’d used those contacts to keep track of her. When his manreported in that her car hadn’t moved in days, he’d gone down tocheck it himself. The engine had a cracked head, and the tranny wastrashed, all a result of hard driving in the vehicle’s past heattributed to her dead husband. A quick recommendation by his manhad Monk conducting a transaction at a local mechanic shop.
He’d slipped the envelope with the giftcertificate into her mailbox himself, heart racing as he rang thedoorbell like a kid doing ding-dong-ditch and sidled around thecorner of the building. He’d held his breath as the door opened andclosed, then opened again, and he’d heard the rattle of themailbox.
