Wait for Our Turn - A Prequel to The Past Life Series Read online

  “I know,” I say. “I’m glad.” Then after a pause, “Dad would be glad, too.”

  Liam nods his head and smiles. He misses his brother every bit as much as I miss my dad. Next month will mark a decade that Alec Hartmann has been gone. In many ways, Uncle Liam stepped up to fill in during my dad’s absence. Liam is also my closest friend. We work together, play together, and confide in one another. I’m incredibly grateful to have him in my life.

  “I’ll try to summarize to spare you the gory details,” I begin.

  “Alright,” Liam replies. “Give it a shot.”

  “You know that blonde chick from supply? Stephanie?”

  “I think so,” he says. “She’s only been around for a few months, right?”

  “Right,” I confirm.

  “She’s the bottle blonde with the caked-on makeup who always looks like she’s trying too hard?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say with a chuckle. “Wish I’d paid more attention to that tidbit.”

  “Uh, oh,” Liam returns.

  “Yeah,” I say again, nodding my head and grimacing.

  “So, what happened?” he asks.

  “Partying on Dupont Circle, then going back to spend the night at her apartment happened,” I answer. “I was so hungover that I woke up not realizing where I was. When I finally remembered, I immediately regretted my decision to go out with her. Let’s just say she doesn’t look nearly as good at home as she does at work. And her apartment is tacky and dirty.”

  “It happens,” Liam reassures. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re a young, good-looking guy. Quite the eligible bachelor. Women will want to be with you. And they can be very persuasive.”

  “Well, there’s more to the story,” I add. “I swear, Liam, it was almost a disaster of epic proportions.”

  “Really?” he asks.

  “I kid you not,” I reply as I pull the plastic bag with the condom out of my pocket and hold it up to show him.

  “Is that?” Liam asks in disbelief, his eyes getting huge as he looks back and forth between the road ahead and the plastic bag. “What in the hell?”

  “Exactly,” I respond. “That crazy bitch had this in her medicine cabinet. Fresh product here. It has to be mine. And she tried to convince me we didn’t use a condom.”

  “What in the hell?” he asks again.

  “Yeah, and we’re not done yet,” I add. “It turns out she’s married to some guy named Aaron who is stationed in Korea. A picture of the two of them was right there in plain sight on the nightstand.”

  “Are you serious?” my uncle asks.

  “Serious as a heart attack,” I say. I hear it as it comes out of my mouth. Poor choice of words. My dad died of a sudden, massive heart attack. I shouldn’t throw that phrase around lightly. Liam sits up straighter in his seat and I can tell it bothers him, too. “Very serious,” I correct.

  “Did she mention being married before you two went out together?” he inquires.

  “Of course not,” I say. “You know I wouldn’t have messed with her at all if she had. I’m no home wrecker.”

  “Damn,” Liam says as he ponders the magnitude of the situation. “She had you all lined up for a future you don’t want any part of.”

  “That’s an understatement,” I add.

  “Thank God you had the presence of mind to get yourself out of there with your ‘product’ in hand,” he says with a laugh.

  “Exactly,” I reply. “I feel like I just dodged a bullet.”

  “I’d say you did,” he confirms.

  “What’s going on with me?” I ask. “I can’t keep doing this.”

  Liam shrugs. He’s not the type to criticize. He won’t tell me what to do.

  “You know what? Come to think of it,” I add. “I almost had a situation with a married woman in Vegas last month.”

  “Yeah?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I continue. “When I was out at Nellis Air Force Base. Several of us drone guys went down to the Vegas Strip together one weekend. This hot brunette was all over me. Leilani was her name. She looked gorgeous. She was from Hawaii and had that exotic island look about her. Long, dark hair with sultry brown eyes, a tiny waist, and curvy, muscular legs on display for my viewing pleasure. It wasn’t all about the physical though. She was intelligent, too. She owns her own company on Oahu and was in Sin City for a conference of executives. We met when we happened to be seated next to each other at a dinner show. We spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing poolside at her hotel, which led to a steamy make out session in an unoccupied cabana.”

  “Sounds amazing,” Liam says.

  “Oh, it was,” I confirm. “I was into it. We had a real connection. I found myself thinking about how to see her again.”

  “Was she married?” Liam asks.

  “Unfortunately, she was,” I reply. “She was running her hand over my pecs when I looked down and noticed a tan line where a wedding ring would be. She was wearing another ring over top to hide it, but that ring slid down just enough for me to notice the tan line and see that it was a different shape that didn’t match up with the ring she had on.”

  “Damn,” Liam says, shaking his head. “You’d hope for better behavior from someone as smart and accomplished as you say she seemed.”

  “I know,” I say. “I was disappointed, to say the least. I asked, and she admitted to being married. I ended things right away.”

  “So it stopped short of getting into bed with her?” Liam inquires.

  “It did,” I say.

  “Good thing,” he replies.

  “Agreed. But what’s going on with these married women?” I ask. “Is it something I’m doing? Or not doing?”

  “Well, you’re doing the right thing by cutting things off as soon as you find out they’re married,” my uncle says.

  “Yeah,” I affirm. “I don’t know though.”

  This conversation is making me realize that I’ve never actually thought about what I want in a woman. I’ve never preferred one specific physical type over another. My tastes in terms of what I find attractive are all over the place.

  I dated the most gorgeous African American girl during my senior year of high school. Naomi Edwards was my first real girlfriend. She was also my first kiss and, later, my first time making love. At least I can describe it as making love, unlike what happened with Stephanie last night. Naomi and I had a good thing going. We broke up when we graduated and went away to college because life was moving on and we knew our romantic relationship wasn’t meant to continue. We’ve remained friends though. We have nothing but mutual respect and admiration for each other. I thought Naomi was beautiful the moment I first saw her. Her rich, dark skin and her big brown eyes easily captured my heart. She was athletic and her muscular build was beyond sexy. Her round backside and perky, small breasts provided my teenage libido plenty to work with. I was a mess when I first arrived in Ithaca, New York. Dad had just died, and Mom had moved us away from all of my friends and everything I’d ever known in Brooklyn. John Wendell and Grandpa were there for support, but grandparents can’t begin to replace friends when you’re that age. I didn’t expect to feel at home in Ithaca, but Naomi gave me a reason to.

  I haven’t had a serious relationship since, save for a few repeat dates here and there. That hasn’t stopped me from having plenty of sex though. I’ve been intimate with a wide range of physical types and have enjoyed all of them. I’m not sure I could nail down a preferred ‘look’ if I had to. Maybe I’ll know it when I see it.

  “Liam?” I begin.

  “Yeah, buddy?” he replies.

  “Did you have a type before you met Estella?”

  “Kind of, sure,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve always liked women with olive skin and long, dark hair. Ethnic types. I love that my wife is from Colombia.”

  “So, when you met her, you knew she was your type?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says. “That’s true. I guess that did kind of help me zer
o in on her right away. But my love for my wife is about so much more than her physical looks. She’s a beautiful soul. Her intelligence, her quick wit, and her artistic talent are but a few of the things that make me wild about her.”

  “That knowing must feel good,” I say.

  “It does,” he says. Then after a pause, “Are you thinking about a future Mrs. Hartmann right now?”

  I take a deep breath and raise my eyebrows in response to his question. “I don’t know about all that. I guess I’m thinking about how more and more women in my age range are married. Maybe the Universe is trying to bring that to my attention.”

  “That’s one way to look at it,” Liam says. He’s getting a kick out of this.

  “I’m not saying I should get married just because everyone else is,” I clarify. “I’m just twenty-six.”

  “I know,” Liam confirms.

  “But maybe I should start thinking about what I want instead of moving through the dating world aimlessly.”

  “You have plenty of time,” Liam assures.

  “On one hand, probably,” I say. “And that’s been my philosophy. But on the other hand, if I do want a grand love in my life… If I want a family... “

  “You might want to get on with it,” he adds.

  “Maybe so,” I say, fiddling with the seam on the side of my jeans absentmindedly as I talk. “By the time Dad was the age I am right now, I was in preschool. I don’t know whether he thought he had plenty of time or not.”

  “It didn’t turn out that way, did it?” Liam asks.

  “No, it most certainly did not,” I confirm.

  “Well, nephew, what do you envision your future wife being like?” Liam inquires.

  A rush of wetness flows to my eyes and takes me by surprise as we near my apartment. The row houses in Capitol Hill are all decorated for Halloween and, for some reason, I’m noticing couples and families out enjoying themselves together. I remember the Halloweens of my own childhood. I can almost feel the warmth and the weight of the Halloween costumes Mom used to sew for me. I remember the cold air on my little cheeks and Dad’s big, strong hand holding mine as the three of us walked from house to house trick-or-treating.

  “I’ve never really thought about that,” I say quietly.

  “Why don’t you think about it now?” my uncle prompts. “I’m listening.”

  “Honestly, Liam,” I say. “It’s hard to imagine.”

  “Give it a try, George.”

  I lean my head gently on Ruby’s door frame as I consider what life may hold for me.

  “I hope she’s kind,” I begin. “I hope she’s smart. And beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” my uncle says, nodding his head and smiling.

  “I hope she’ll be a good mom,” I add. The words barely make it out of my mouth before tears stream down my face.

  “Awe, buddy,” Liam says as he pulls into a parking spot near my building and shifts Ruby into park. “You want this.”

  “I don’t know,” I manage.

  My face crumples against my will and I let out a loud sob. Liam puts his arm around me and pulls me in for a hug. I can’t hold back the tears. We stay like that for several minutes before I sit up and try to regain my composure.

  “There’s no shame in yearning for love, George,” Liam says. “True love is a beautiful thing. It’s one of the very best parts of life. Your parents had it. Estella and I have it. John Wendell and your Grandma have it. You’ll have it one day, too.”

  I nod my agreement. “It’s just…” I begin. “Thinking about Dad has me choked up. Until today, I’ve thought mostly in terms of my missing him. I hadn’t considered his perspective of being a young man like me and looking towards a future that didn’t happen. That’s terribly sad.”

  “It is,” Liam agrees. “Alec had dreams of watching you grow into a man.”

  The emotion catches in my chest and I’m sobbing again.

  “My brother had dreams of standing up with you at your wedding,” Liam continues. “I think he hoped you’d want him to be your best man, although he never would have mentioned it if you didn’t ask.”

  “I would have asked,” I say through tears. “You know I would have.”

  “I know,” my uncle confirms. “Alec dreamed of becoming a grandfather. He used to say he’d be the kind of grandparent who would spoil the kids rotten and then send them home tired and cranky, but filled with wonder.”

  I smile upon hearing this. It soothes my aching heart and breaks it all at the same time.

  “I had the best dad,” I say.

  “That you did,” Liam agrees. We sit in silence for a few minutes as we each remember what a fine man Alec Hartmann was.

  “Liam?” I inquire once I’ve collected myself again.

  “Yeah, buddy,” he returns.

  “Maybe I’ve avoided thinking about having a family of my own because it hurts too much to imagine doing it without Dad by my side.”

  “Awe, buddy,” Liam says. He looks like he’s tearing up, too. “I can understand that.”

  “Do you really? That doesn’t sound crazy?” I ask.

  “Not at all,” he confirms. “George, if and when you want a wife and a family of your own, I’ll be right by your side every step of the way. I know I can’t replace your dad…”

  I stop him mid-sentence with another big hug. I pat my uncle hard on the back as I wrap my other arm tightly around his shoulders.

  “That means everything to me, Liam,” I say. “You’re my uncle and my closest friend. If and when I have a wife and a family of my own, I’ll happily take you up on that offer.”

  I say goodbye to Liam and ascend the stairs to my third-floor loft as I think how ironic it is that I’m talking for the first time about having a wife of my own while physically covered in funk from Stephanie Skogg and her wretched apartment. I make a vow to myself to stop that kind of bullshit. If I want something real and true, I can’t be fooling around and getting myself mixed up with people who are-- at best-- nothing but negative distractions.

  3

  Young Love

  In the weeks that follow, I sharpen my focus and take inventory of my station in life. As far as my daily routine is concerned, I continue to do the things I’ve always done. I work out regularly, I make sure to get enough sleep, and I eat plenty of fresh, nutritious foods. To a casual observer, nothing has changed. But on the inside, everything has changed. For starters, I no longer make arrangements to have casual sex with my coworkers. The Stephanie Skogg ordeal brought me a clarity I’m not sure I would have found otherwise. Maybe one day, I’ll look back and feel grateful that Stephanie intruded upon my life as she did. Maybe she will have been the wind which turned my sails towards the place where I belong.

  I’m almost finished with my Ph.D. and I’ll be defending my doctoral dissertation soon. I’ve been studying Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering at George Washington University on the Air Force’s dime, so the higher-ups are busy making plans to put my knowledge to best use when I’m done. I won’t officially graduate and go back to active service until May. I expect to receive my duty assignment by early January though. It will be nice to have some time to prepare and plan for wherever it is I’m going next. There are only so many places the military puts those of us who design and engineer drones, so I have a pretty good idea of my options. Luckily, since Uncle Liam is in the same career field, I’m virtually guaranteed to see him now and then even if we aren’t stationed at the same base. I really enjoy having him nearby though. Maybe I’ll get lucky and be allowed to stick around the Washington, D.C. area. From what I understand, the Air Force plans to keep Liam here long term. I’d be happy to join him. I wouldn’t mind a heavy TDY travel schedule if it meant I could home-base here. I know they say not to get too attached to any particular base or duty station, but it’s too late for that. D.C. feels like a home. I’m technically up for reenlistment around graduation time, but I’ve already told my superiors I’m staying in. I’m expected to re
enlist, given the fact that the Air Force has supported me through graduate school. I don’t think I’d separate from the military even if I could though. I’m fairly certain I will make a career out of it and stay in until my time to retire.

  It’s late November now and the trees around our nation’s capital have nearly completed their annual show of color. A smattering of deep orange leaves hangs on desperately against the cold. Although maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe the trees are the ones hanging on in a futile attempt to resist the inevitable. I know how they feel. I want to move in the direction of whatever destiny has in store for me, yet I don’t know exactly how or what will happen. Maybe the trees and I should let go and trust the process.

  Today is Thanksgiving, and I’m on my way to Liam and Estella’s house for a traditional turkey dinner. I’m excited to spend the day with my uncle and his wife, but am missing Mom, John Wendell, and Grandma, who all stayed home in Ithaca for the holiday. We’ll be eating a holiday dinner together soon enough though. I’m taking two weeks leave at Christmas time and heading north. And besides, John Wendell already called to tell me happy Turkey Day and to chat for a while. I jokingly refer to him as Father Time, because he never misses acknowledging a special day. I can always count on a phone call or a message on my answering machine, a greeting card, and, like clockwork, a check for twenty-five dollars on my birthday. Never a day late. I can even predict what time of day he’ll call. I made sure I was home this morning when I expected to hear from him so as not to miss the chance to talk with my grandfather. We always have lots to talk about. Today, we reminisced about attending the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade together when I was a kid and lived in New York City. He and Grandma would travel from Ithaca to Brooklyn every Thanksgiving to eat dinner with us and go watch the parade in person. It kind of slipped out, but this morning while we were talking, I mentioned how I’d love to take my own kids to the parade someday.