'Will you take care of my dog?’ He'd seen the bright sparkle fade from her eyes when the realization of what he'd said sank in. She'd withdrawn from him in a way she'd never done in all the time he'd known her, all the time they had been together. It scared him how hard that had hit her and how her reaction had reflected back and hit him. They were ‘back to normal’ by the end of the evening, at least to all outward appearances, but there was still a distance that hadn't been there before. A ‘demilitarized zone’ of protection that was invisible, but palpable.
The next day he'd gone to see his sister and brother-in-law. When he told them what had happened the night before, Jeff and Sarah had looked at him like he'd grown two heads. They adored Marcy and had been looking forward to welcoming her officially into the family. And, apparently, neither of them considered that he might not make it back as sufficient reason for being an idiot. The whole concept of ‘if she's still single at the end of my enlistment and if I'm still all in one piece and functional then I can ask her’ was met with some very blunt assessments from the distaff side of the family and her spouse.
Jeff didn't mince words either and told him flat out that he was a jerk-and a fool-to let that one stay on the market without his ‘brand’ on her. So okay, it wasn't the most PC statement he'd ever heard, but he understood the reasoning behind it. Sarah, on the other hand, chewed Jeff out for that totally sexist comment, but then turned right around and told Paul he should have taken Beyonce's advice-"If you like it then you should have put a ring on it!"
The pressure eased up as one by one the guys climbed off of him and ambled back into the barracks and out of the cold night. He was still alive. They hadn't tortured him overly much. At least nobody was calling him ‘Teddy’ or ‘BooBoo’ or any other bear-related nickname… yet.
He sat up and looked around at the now empty grounds. At the door as it closed behind the last man. At the ripped open box next to him… with a big, beautiful Christmas stocking laying carefully on top of it to keep it off the ground. A stocking with a huge white fur ruff around the top, and little jingle bells dangling from the bottom of the snowy topping. His name, embroidered in gold above the bells, practically glowed up at him, lit by moonlight and lamplight… and the light of the love that was stitched into it. A beautiful cinnamon-colored bear with pink satin ears and feet and small brown button eyes, dressed in letter-perfect Army camo BDUs and holding a small red and gold box with a big red bow on top was appliqued onto the front. Ranger Bear Callahan.
Paul stared at the stocking for a long time, not moving, then reached out and picked it up and brought it closer. He was careful not to get it dirty, but needed to touch it, feel it. Make sure it was real. He reached out one finger and flicked the tiny little bells attached to the embroidered mistletoe on the cap and smiled. He jingled it a little and the bells sewn around the bottom of the cuff tinkled merrily into the night.
A slight breeze whuffed around him and a flash of white caught his eye. Paul looked back at the flattened box, and there, under where the stocking had been, was an envelope. He laid the stocking across his lap and reached down, retrieved the Christmas card and took out the letter he found inside. He slowly began to read.
"My Darling Paul,
I hope the Stocking wasn't too ‘unbearable’ for you. He comes to you with a lot of love and holds not only Christmas goodies (which I'm pretty sure your DI will have confiscated), but my love for you as well in his fuzzy little paws.
I've spent a lot of time lately with the wives and girlfriends of the guys here on Redstone arsenal. I know from my own family what military life is like, at least for the women, and I'm good to go with whatever you need to do. You have not only my love, but my support, always. Just wanted you to know that.
Love,
Mars
PS, I've organized the Officers’ Wives here into an all-female shooting club. We hit the range every Tuesday/Thursday and some of them are getting pretty good. BTW, Captain Weck's wife wanted to know if you figured out the difference between your rifle and your gun yet? You'll have to explain that one to me when you get home. I'm still working on the whole bridge playing thing … not doing so good on that one… so far.
PPS… Hurry home. Alex misses you… so do I.
As he sat there staring at the stocking, dealing with the aftermath of that rush of adrenalin, a small white flake landed on the nose of the bear, followed by one on its fur-which Marcy had perfectly matched to Paul's own soft brown hair color. Paul looked up as another one drifted down to land on his own nose and then another and another. It was snowing! Two weeks before Christmas and it was snowing in freaking Georgia! Did this mean that hell had frozen over? Or were the silent, peaceful flakes beginning to blanket the earth a sign… perhaps that something rare and special was happening in his life and he should take notice of it? He started to laugh, quietly at first, then louder, until his sides were aching and he was practically rolling on the ground. When he finally stopped and came up for air, he'd made a decision.
This was the woman he wanted to be with forever. He had to confess that he loved her. Desperately. Passionately. She was his heart, his soul, his life, his very reason for living and he couldn't endure another day without her as his wife. He needed to make up to her for that last ‘non-proposal’ with something as unforgettable as she was. But what?
He stood, the stocking carefully protected against his chest, the bear pressed close over his heart, and headed for the barracks and all those dog-piling ‘buddies’ of his. He was almost to the door when he stopped dead still and practically howled at the moon with laughter. All of a sudden he knew exactly what to do to set the seal on this proposal. Paybacks were such a…
Chapter Three
Marcy had finally stopped laughing, but her eyes were brimming with tears, blurring everything and giving it a starry-filter sparkle. She blinked them away and managed to finally get one hand up to her eyes to wipe them. She blinked and wiped again. But some of the sparkle just wasn't going away.
That's when she noticed something she hadn't seen before-something shiny and bright and small-tied to the front of the raft, just within her grasp. She reached out and tugged on the red ribbon holding it to the raft's loop. With that single tug it came loose and fell into her outstretched hand. She brought it up to gaze into its sparkling heart, to lose herself in its fire for a moment. A diamond engagement ring. A beautiful solitaire just like one she'd seen in the window that night right before Paul went to bootcamp and had caught up with her in front of Kay Jewelers. The night he hadn't proposed.
Marcy looked at it again and went very still inside. It wasn't a new ring. It was actually a very old one. She took a deep breath as the reality of what she was looking at truly sank in. In her hand she held the ring she'd seen in a picture of Paul's Great-Grandmother Dorothy. The one his grandmother and his mother had been given when they each became engaged. She gasped and the tears started to gather and fall for real.
A loud ‘pop,’ followed by the hiss of escaping air whooshed around her, and the pressure started to release from the raft pinning her to the wall. She watched it go down inch by slow inch to reveal the figure of a tall, broad-shouldered, chocolate-eyed, cinnamon-haired soldier standing in full Army dress uniform on the far side of the now ruptured Zodiac 8-man, auto-inflating combat raft.