Stolen September: A Military Romance

“And the bride?”

“Her mother assures me it will be an ivory lace dress, but that’s all I know.”

“Hmm.” Miss Maisy taps her finger to her lips, walking around her shop. “I’m thinking burgundy wine-colored fiddle roses or ranunculus, a little foxglove and thistle. Oh, and some Scabiosa, and maybe quicksand roses for that blushing bride look.”

“That sounds flowery.” I have no idea what any of that is, but I hope they look pretty.

“Oh, you!” Miss Maisy taps my chest, smiling. “You’ll have a boutonniere, don’t worry.”

“It sounds beautiful and everything Beatrice deserves. How can I ever repay you?” I’m thinking cash and a round number, but she clucks at me and turns away.

“You have that brother of yours come over and mow my lawn, maybe shovel my walkway if we get those ice storms again.”

“Are you sure, Miss Maisy?” If I get off light on the cake and flowers, I might be able to stretch my budget and get Bea a nice wedding gift—something besides the wedding band. We don’t have time to pick out a proper ring, between our schedules, and she asked me to wait on that until things were settled, but it doesn’t feel right marrying my girl and no diamond ring.

I spot on a shelf in the shop a pair of matching bears. One has a wedding dress and one a suit. I point up at the bears asking, “How much?”

“Well now, I think we can work out something fair.”

I whoosh out a relieved breath.

Miss Maisy motions for me to grab the bears and I do, handing them to her. “I’ve got something for the boy bear you’ll like better.” She takes them in the back and comes out a moment later with a bear dressed in military camo. It’s perfect.

“Aww, Miss Maisy, they’re exactly what I need.”

“Get out of here. I know you got more favors to hit up on your list before the big day. Go on with you!” Miss Maisy shoos me out of her shop and I think of my good fortune. I couldn’t do any of this without the help of the whole town rooting for us.

Tank: How do you feel about ranunculus and Scabiosa?

Honeybee: Are you trying to tell me you have an STD?

Tank: Hell no. Those are flowers.

Honeybee: Are you sure you shouldn’t be seeing a doctor about this?

Tank: I’ll see you tomorrow?

Honeybee: Not unless you get that shit cleared up.

The big day is finally here. My legs shake while I stand in the gazebo, which is covered in white holiday lights. They twinkle and my heart follows the pattern, thumping in my chest. I don’t know if Beatrice will walk down the aisle, and if she doesn’t, I wouldn’t be angry with her. I called in every favor I could—and some I didn’t have a right to—thanks to my family.

The wine-colored rose pinned to my dress blues smells like spring and promises even though it’s the fifth of December. A canopy leads out to the gazebo as dusk rolls in. Most everyone had to work and tomorrow I leave to go back, but tonight is ours and I don’t need sleep. All I need is Beatrice in my arms again, pledged to be mine. It felt like hell trying to get here, but I know heaven is on the other side as long as Beatrice is there with me.

I asked Frankie, who’s in my training group with me, to stand as my best man. We’ve been through a lot and he’s as close to me as my brother Cole. He might as well be my brother from another mother. He’s got his dress blues on while my little brother is playing in the marching band. The music starts and I can’t wait another second. I turn and scan the aisle for my Honeybee.

There’s a hush over the crowd and the pastor wears a concerned look on his face. I don’t know if she’s there; I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s left me standing here. I hear the faint jingle of sleigh bells and smile.

5

Bea

“Are you sure you want to do this, Sweat Bea?” My mother stands in the doorway to my bedroom. Her face carries concern the way only mothers can. She’s been hovering more than usual since my breakup with Tank and my brother gone chasing his own happily ever after across the country.

“Yeah, Momma. I think I do.” I can’t help the smile on my face and the warmth I feel for him. I sit on the bed and finger the lace of the dress she and my aunts worked tirelessly on. I’m going into this marriage with nothing but this dress on my back that carries family memories and traditions I haven't begun to understand in building my own household. I’ve packed a few things, but I can’t take it all as we work out the housing arrangements on base.

She joins me on the bed and brushes a hand over my hair in a soothing way. I lean into her as she peppers me with questions. “How well do you know this boy?”

“Ah, not well enough for this.” I can’t help the giggle that comes out of my mouth. It’s not that we haven’t had family discussions about this until late into the evenings over the remaining pieces of pie and turkey scramble. It’s been a whirlwind of planning, all of which Tank took out of my hands, as promised. He’s been all action and few words lately.