Shortly after, I was laid off from my job. Michelle saw me moping around, and said it would do me good to get away. “Come with me to see your brother. You can help Richie and me plan the wedding. It will take your mind off things.”
So I went.
Michelle was right. The trip was fun. We stopped at attractions that looked interesting to us, ate out every night, drank wine, stayed at motels and even watched XXX movies on TV, giggling at the peccadilloes as well as the peckers of nude actors. Up until then I had only lived at home. This was my first time as an adult completely out on my own. Well, not really alone — I was with Michelle, but we were both young and relishing a sense of freedom, on an adventure.
I guess it was the fourth day that reality broke into our reverie. Shouldn’t we have reached Alabama already? We looked closer at the map. We were certainly far south — too far, in fact, in Lake Charles, Louisiana, about 500 miles west of the base where Richie was stationed. I had followed the wrong line. We had been so involved talking and having fun that neither of us had realized it.
It was nothing to get upset over. We laughed off our error, re-plotted the route and got in several miles in the right direction before finding a motel and treating ourselves to a good dinner and bottle of wine at the restaurant next door. The wine soon got us laughing even harder, and joking about our navigational abilities.
“Any terrorists following us to the target would sure be confused,” Michelle said.
“The government should hire us as disinformation specialists,” I responded. “Keeping the troops safe,”
The waiter brought dinner, along with a second bottle of wine. “Oh no,” I told him. “We didn’t order that. We’re still working on this one.”
“It’s compliments of the gentlemen over there,” the waiter responded, gesturing toward a table across the small dance floor, occupied by two young guys, one in army fatigues, the other wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a military-style cap. The one with the cap smiled and raised his wine glass in a salute.
I didn’t know how to respond, but Michelle, who had always been more outgoing and was more experienced in social situations, returned the greeting and called out, “You gallant men in arms aren’t going to let two ladies drink alone, are you.” The guys looked at one another, the one with the cap giving a subtle thumbs-up sign to the other. They rose, and I heard one tell the waiter they were taking new seating for when their food was ready.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I whispered to Michelle.
“Relax, Lisa. It would be rude to let them buy us a bottle and just blow them off. It doesn’t mean we have to sleep with them. We’ll just talk a little.”
The guys approached our booth. “Hello, ladies,” said the one with the cap. “We were hoping to find some interesting civilian companionship to round out the first full day of our two-week R&R. I’m Brian and this fellow, so proud of the colors and so eager to get home that he forgot to pack his civvies, is Shane.” Brian slid onto the seat next to Michelle. I moved over on my bench to give Shane room, but he just stood there a couple seconds until Brian gave him a look. Then he sat down, nodding at me with a slight smile, but keeping a respectful distance.
We introduced ourselves, and exchanged light banter with our new acquaintances, who were in their early 20s, about our age. Brian said they were activated national guardsmen, currently on leave and headed to their homes in Texas. Michelle asked where they were stationed, and it turned out to be the same base that was our destination.
“My boyfriend, Lisa’s brother, is stationed there too,” Michelle said. “We’re on our way from New Jersey to visit him. His name is Richie Accardo. Do you know him?”
“Can’t say we do, ma’am,” Brian replied. “It’s a big place with a lot of personnel. Less of us lately, since guys are being discharged what with hostilities winding down, and we’re expecting to be let go soon too. But if y’all are coming from New Jersey, y’all are a little far west, no?”
Which brought a laugh from Michelle. She told them the story, and Brian laughed heartily while Shane smiled.
“And how about you Navigator Lisa,” Brian asked. “Do you have a sweetheart at the base too?”
“No, she’s sworn off men,” Michelle said before I could answer. I cringed as she added, “Lisa broke up with her boyfriend recently because she didn’t like his other woman.”
“Sounds like Lisa and my bud here have something in common,” Brian replied. Shane flashed him a look and a no-no hand signal, but Brian went on. “He wrote his girl a couple weeks ago that he’s coming home and she wrote back something like, ‘Dear Shane, I’ve found someone else to keep my feet warm.’ That was nice of her, so’s he wouldn’t bust the bank on candy and flowers.” Shane looked embarrassed. “Hey, old bud, better to find it out now than ten years and two kids from now,” Brian told him.
There was a lull in the conversation. Michelle filled it, asking them what their plans were when their discharges came through. Brian said he was going to open a garage and get into sports car and vintage car restoration. Michelle excitedly told him Richie was an old car nut too, and was working on a TR3 she loved to ride in. They got into an enthusiastic discussion about wire wheels, leather interiors and things like that.
Shane still hadn’t said much, and I asked if he liked cars too. He shrugged, saying his tastes were more along the lines of hunting, fishing and rural living. He was planning to look for some good land to farm, ranch and raise horses on. I told him that when I was small my family went to the Poconos on a farm vacation, and there was a beautiful palomino mare I loved to ride. His eyes brightened, and he came out of his shell to offer some information about different breeds and their characteristics. He had a deep voice with a soft southern accent, a ruggedly handsome face with blue eyes and thick wavy black hair.
The guys’ food arrived, and Michelle and I ordered some strawberry pie for our dessert. Before long we had all gone through that second bottle of wine, and Brian ordered a third. The place was getting busier. A band cranked up, playing some Nashville style country rock.
“Hey, how ’bout you teach me to dance?” Brian said to Michelle. She eagerly accepted and they took the floor on a fast number. Michelle was a good dancer, but Brian kept up with her well. Their twists and turns and Brian’s moonwalk soon drew cheers from other patrons.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” Shane offered, apologetically. “No lessons where I come from, and I’m not much of a self-learner, like Brian is.”
I told him that was okay, and it was nice just talking, but the band switched to a slow one soon, and he surprised by inviting me to dance. I found him more proficient than he had let on. With a firm grip and hand on my back, he guided me decisively around the floor. It was fortunate he was a strong lead, as I was a little tipsy from the wine, and also surprised to find it was not unpleasant being close to a man again. I even leaned into him a little.