Page 5 of Shifting Years
"Call me Todd. 'Sir' makes me sound like an old, grey wolf, which I am." He chuckled and shook his head thinking about a younger Alpha equally stupid as his Omega. "Oh, I was defending America from people like Mike."
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Chapter Three
March 1969
Todd
I stood at attention, my hand slipping from Donna's as the live band's melody faded into the gymnasium's background. My girl's petite, with blonde hair that stops at her shoulders, and folks say she's pretty. My parents, when they're together, said she'd make a fine wife for me.
Soft lights shimmered over her blue formal dress as she nudged me, gesturing towards the brass band. I clapped politely, as did other young men and women dressed in tuxedos and shiny dresses.
Donna ran her hand through my short hair and narrowed her light-blue eyes. "I'm not sure about this haircut. It's still cute—like you, but the longer hair was more flattering. Made you rugged."
"It's a soldier's haircut," I said flatly. Soldiers cut it close, but she was too delicate to hear about our enemy grabbing long hair, pulling my head back, and then running a knife over my throat.As if they would get a chance.
Her lips curled into a smile. "I still like this new you, even with the cut, and muscles are just dreamy on tall men. My word, you're practicallyburstingout of your tux!"
I nodded out of politeness, but this dance and going through the motions wasn't important. Did nobody else get it? Insidethe gymnasium, people danced as if they were unaware of, well,everything. Not a single person spoke about going overseas to fight the Communists who wanted to destroy America.
Donna's voice stayed soft and sweet. "Kiss?"
My cheeks burned. "It would be inappropriate in public. My father and his friends are here, as is your father."
"I see." Her tone lowered. "So if we were somewhere else?"
My heart raced, and privacy would lead to more than kissing. "Not until we're married," I said with a smile, trying to keep her happy. Images came of me slipping a diamond ring on her thin finger, with me at the altar.
That's exactly what will happen.
"And when is that?" she asked while swirling blonde hair around her pinkie.
I should have a date in mind, but it didn't come. "When I come back from overseas," I said. "The war won't take long."
She stared, but why? I answered her.
"Thirsty?" I asked, pointing towards bright red liquid in a crystal bowl and the Black servers in crisp dinner jackets. After drinking a cupful and feeling the sugar burn my throat, she whispered, "Iamyour girl, right?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't you be?"
She rocked back and forth on her heels. "Well, sometimes a girl needs a sign. It would be nice if you stayed."
"I'mgoingoverseas to do my duty. I'll come back, and we'll do what we're supposed to do."
She repeated my words softly, "Supposedto do, how romantic."
I sighed, "I'm a man, and we don't see weddings the same way."
"So you're going?"
"I have to. My father and uncles served. I couldn't stay here. You want me to be like those, those… hippies?"
"Well, they seem happy," she said with a soft grin. "Yoko Ono and John Lennon got married. I heard about it on the radio, you know?" She clasped her hands as her shoulders rose. "Have you seen how they touch each other in public?"
"Who hasn't?"
She took a deep breath and smiled. "It's like they're on a constant honeymoon."
