Tawny
I knew better than to ever watch the news anytime there was some war story making the headlines. But my eyes were glued to the television as soldiers were leaving some basecamp to go on a dangerous mission. The reporter said that out of the five thousand who were being deployed, less than half were expected to make it back.
Searching every face the camera showed, I pleaded with God not to let me see August’s among them. The report closed without me seeing him, and I closed my eyes and whispered, “Thank you, God.”
My mother came into the living room, carrying Calum. “This one needs a bath. He helped his grammy in the garden and is wearing more dirt than one should be wearing for a three-year-old boy.
Nearly four years had passed since I’d laid eyes on Calum’s father. I found myself counting the days as my dreams about him grew in number.
Taking my son from my mom, I took him to the shower, a thing he was protesting about. “No! Bath, Momma. I want a bath.”
Turning on the shower anyway, I let him know why he couldn’t have a bath instead. “Calum, you’ve got dirt all over you. If I put you in that bathtub, you’ll make the tub all muddy. Grammy would be so mad at us if we got that tub dirty.”
He allowed me to pull his filthy clothes off since I had used the Grammy-would-be mad-card. My mother could raise up a fuss, and he didn’t like it as much as I didn’t like it. “Okay.”
As I ran my hands through his chestnut hair, I noticed how much it resembled August’s. I even kept Calum’s hair cut in a short military style, just the way I was sure August’s was kept.
I had no idea why I did the things I did with my son. I’d bought him camouflage everything. His little backpack that he carried his things around in and a ton of his clothes sported the sandy-colored material that I knew the military people wore.
At only three, Calum still had baby fat that made his face pudgy. I was positive that one day he would look like his handsome father and that thought made me very happy. I even wondered if one day I would tell my son about his father. And I prayed I wouldn’t have to tell him his dad had died in the war.
The war wouldn’t end. It just kept going and going, like the Energizer bunny. Initially, I had thought that August would be out of the country for a year or so. Now I had no idea when or if he would ever get to come back.
Not that it mattered a lot about him coming back to America since his family no longer lived in Sebastopol. If he did come back, I wouldn’t ever get to see him anyway.
Rinsing Calum off, I turned off the water and put a towel around him. “Okay, story time. I’ll read you a book while you lie in bed and go to sleep.”
He shook his head, tossing water droplets off his wet hair. “Not sleepy.”
I had to laugh. The child always tried to tell me that. But every night, not ten minutes into a book, he would be out like a light. “Come on, you little silly boy.”
After getting him to sleep, I headed to my bedroom to take a bath myself before going to bed. I had to be at the hospital early the next morning to see about getting a position in the maternity department there. I had obtained my license as a registered nurse and was ready to get to the real work.
Stripping my shorts and shirt off, I turned on some hot water, adding some lavender bath salts to the tub. The shower was separate and stood in the corner. I could see it from my position in the antique clawfoot bathtub.
In that shower, August and I had done some pretty dirty things. I closed my eyes and tried to recall every detail as I slid down in the hot water that filled the tub.
His mouth took mine with a kiss so hot, we didn’t need any hot water to create steam. His hands slid over my shoulders, down my arms, then he took each of my ass cheeks into his hands, squeezing them. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around him. He hadn’t penetrated me yet as his cock pulsed back to life after we’d already had quite the romp in my bed only minutes earlier.
Grinding his sex against mine, I felt my pussy pulsing too. It was hard for me to believe that less than an hour earlier I’d had no real idea what sex felt like and now my body was craving it.
But only from him.
My body craved sex from time to time. Masturbation worked to fill the hunger. As long as I kept August as the star of my fantasies, it worked for me.
August pressed my body against the tiled wall, then moved around until the tip of his cock was ready to enter me. With one hard shove, he was back inside of me, and we both gasped with the sensation that being connected gave us.
For a long moment, we just looked at one another before his mouth crashed back down on mine, taking it with a vengeance. I was his. In every way, that was true.
Pumping and grinding, he kept moving until a huge wave crashed inside of me, sending me to a very happy place as he spewed hot cum into me. Panting, we held each other for a while before he let me go.
I opened my eyes, looking at the shower where we’d done that. I pictured him standing there in all his naked glory. His broad chest only had a small amount of hair on it, a thing he’d told me that night that he would be shaving off once he was at boot camp. Going to a hot place like the desert, he’d been told the less hair one had on their body, the easier it was not to die from heat exhaustion.
Using my big toe, I pulled the plug to let the water drain out. All I wanted to do was snuggle up in my bed with the long fluffy pillow I would pretend was August now and then. Especially on nights when a full moon would stream through my window.
I dried off, not bothering to put anything on. I wanted my skin to touch the sheets. I wanted to pretend it was that night again and my naked body rubbed against the sheets as August thrust into me, making me his.
Lying there, I pulled the big pillow up and hugged it, pressing my lips to it. “I miss you more than you will ever know, August Harlow.”
And the fact was, he would probably never know how much I missed him because I would probably never see him again. Sure, there were social media sites where I could keep up with tons of old friends. August had never joined any of those sites. I supposed it was frowned upon to do that when you were an active Marine.
At least once a year, I would try to look up his parents’ names to see if they had joined the ever-growing mass of people who kept in touch through social media. I never saw them on anything.
Each time I looked for them and came up empty, I knew there were other forces at work, keeping us from meeting again. What they were, I guessed I wasn’t meant to know.
I closed my eyes again, thinking the way I sometimes did. I would envision a little white house with a white picket fence going around it. In the front yard, there would be a swing hanging from a tree.
It was picture perfect in my fantasy. And most times, when I thought about the fairytale place where August and I were man and wife, with Calum swinging in the swing and us taking turns pushing him, I would dream about the man.
And that night was no different as I fell asleep.
“Baby, where’s the television remote?” August called out from the living room.
I was busy in the kitchen, baking a strawberry cake for his birthday. That was his favorite flavor. “I think it’s on top of the television, sweetheart.”
“Oh yeah, it is.” He popped his head into the kitchen. “Thank you, love, of my life.”
Waving him away, I didn’t want him to see the cake I had already started to decorate. “Are you trying to peek, August Harlow?”
“Not me.” He smiled then blew me a kiss. “I can’t wait to see what flavor you made me this year, Mrs. Harlow.”
He knew I always made him his favorite flavor, but I liked the fact that he would act as if he had no clue about it.
Calum, now a big boy, came running in through the back door. “Daddy, Daddy, come quick. There’s a squirrel, and it’s trapped at the very top of the tree in the backyard.”
In a flash, August was out the door, running right along with his son to save the poor little animal as I watched out the window. “I’ll grab a ladder and have that little guy down in a minute. Don’t you worry, son.”
“I won’t,” Calum said. “I know you’re a hero and help all kinds of animals and people, Dad.”
August tussled Calum’s chestnut hair. “Aww, thanks, son. Now to rescue this squirrel.”
The tree was tall, the ladder a bit too short to reach the chattering animal which was standing on a thin tree limb, unsure of what to do to save himself.
August had to get off the ladder and climb up the tree. He slipped once, nearly falling, and I gasped then ran outside. “August Harlow, you be careful!”
“I’ve got this, Momma.” August regained his footing then went up higher and higher until I could barely see him, he was so high up in the thick foliage of the tree. “Come here, you little squirrel.” Some chattering could be heard, then August shouted, “Victory! I’ve got him.”
I put my arm around Calum’s shoulders, looking down at our son. “Your daddy is quite the hero, isn’t he, Calum?”
“You can say that again, Mom.” Calum hugged me then looked up at me with a smile. “Thanks for giving me the best dad ever!”
Sighing, I looked up to see August coming down the ladder. He jumped off the third to the last step then put the little squirrel on the grass. “Run away, little guy. Go, be free. But don’t climb so high up that you can’t get down again. You never know when I might not be around.”
The scene blurred, spiraling in on itself until nothing remained but blackness. And in that blackness, I could hear August calling out, “Tawny? Tawny, where are you, baby? I can’t find you.”
“I’m right here,” I shouted back. But when I looked down at what should’ve been my body, I found only more black, empty space. “August, where are you?”
“Tawny, I can’t find you. I’m coming, baby. Don’t give up on me. Please, don’t give up on me. I’ll find you. I will.” His voice faded away until I couldn’t hear him anymore.
And then all I could hear was the sound of a woman wailing.
Sitting up, sweat pouring off me, I found myself crying, the sound so heart-wrenching it tore at my soul.
I gasped for air and tried to calm myself down. “Stop this, you fool! He’s not looking for you. It was just a dream.”
But it was a dream I’d had all too often, especially in the last year or so.
Hugging the pillow, I cried into it, wishing it was him instead of what it really was. I wanted to spend every night in his strong arms. And if fate would allow us to have a second chance, I vowed to spend every night with the man, wrapped around each other.
The end of my dream came back to me as I sniffled and pushed the tears back.
Is August really searching for me?