"I'm not in the Rangers yet. That's at least a year off, if then. But at least now I have the possibility of being accepted.” He paused before gently continuing. “I waited until you got out of college and got settled into the new job. I wanted to make sure you were all set before I headed out."
"Headed out,” she parroted almost soundlessly. “Sounds like you're not planning on coming back."
Paul grabbed her arms and made her look directly into his eyes. “NO! That's not what this is about. Don't even go there.” He pulled her up tight against his body and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Mars. I always have. This is just something that I have to go do.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “I will be back. I'll always come back to you."
She sighed and snuggled back down against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his body that radiated out even through his jacket. “I guess it won't be so bad. I mean, how long is bootcamp and all that other training? Six weeks? Six months? We were apart a lot longer than that when you first went away to college without me. We'll get through it and then you'll be home."
Paul stiffened under her fingers. “Honey, if I make it through bootcamp then there's AIT-Advanced Individual Training. After that there's at least one year in the Infantry and then I can apply for RIP-Ranger Indoctrination Program. If I make it through that… then I go to Ranger school, and… then… I go operational and I'll be deployed. An enlistment is a minimum four-year commitment and most of it won't be Stateside. Not with the country fighting two wars and God only knows how many more skirmishes around the world in the coming years.” His words made her realize she hadn't thought it through. He tried to soften the blow as much as possible. “I will get leave and we will be rotated out, so I'll be Stateside some of that time, and with you every moment I can be."
Her eyes drifted up to the festive lights strung across the walkways, lighting the night and shining down on happy couples and families she watched walking along, window shopping. They seemed to mock her, the lights. She looked away from their fairy brightness and as her eyes adjusted, her heart clutched. Paul had caught up to her right in front of Kay Jewelers. There, in the shop, was tray after tray of engagement rings and wedding bands… and none of them were hers… theirs. She closed her eyes to block out the sight of so many promises of happiness, took a deep breath and did what she always did: stepped up to support Paul in whatever he wanted or needed her to do.
"So what can I do to help? I mean, do you have everything you need already? Can I exercise my shopping genes on your behalf? Or… something?"
Paul squeezed her tight until she squeaked for breath before letting off on the pressure. “So, you forgive your idiot boyfriend for spoiling our last date night for a while?"
Marcy snorted at Paul's description of himself. He had just gotten a new nickname in her book. “Don't I always?” She nuzzled her head up under his chin. “Seriously though, what do you need me to do to help you get ready?"
"I'm fine for now. Basically, we show up in our skivvies and Uncle Sam takes it from there."
"Winter's coming on soon. It's going to be cold this time of year. I've seen pictures of those bootcamps. Most of the time the guys look like they're either going to die of heat stroke or hypothermia."
He chuckled. “I'll be fine. You know I love camping out and ‘roughing it.’ Only thing I won't have is you next to me to keep me warm."
A wry smile quirked her lips. Her humor was her armor. Always had been. It got her through tough times and hard things when nothing else could. It would in this case, too. So, okay, she obviously couldn't make him unsign the enlistment papers; she wouldn't if she could because she knew how long he'd wanted this. Nor could she go to bootcamp with him, but there was no sense in not having some fun with his last remark.
"Well, no.” She gave a big, overly dramatic sigh. “I can't go with you to keep you all nice and warm at night, but I could make you one of those big, soft specialty teddy bears with your name embroidered on it. They even have little green fatigues you can dress them in at the Build-A-Bear shop I passed by the other day at the mall."
Paul's blood ran cold at the thought of her sending him a teddy bear. He knew this woman intimately, and her thought-should he think of it more in terms of her ‘threat'-of sending him a bear was not something to be taken lightly. She'd do it! And oh he would be so dead. He wasn't even IN the military yet, but he knew enough to know that ‘mama's boys’ had a hard time and a teddy bear would brand him for life as the ‘boy who brought his BooBoo to bootcamp.'
"Oh honey… nonononononono… you can't. Really!” He held her away from him to stare pleadingly into her eyes. “You do that to me during bootcamp and I'm dead meat."
She twinkled back at him. “Why, Paul, I don't know what you're talking about. You know I would never do anything to embarrass you."
"Yeah. Sure you wouldn't. Let me tell you something, Marcy Grayson. If I wind up getting pummeled because of you and some stupid bear, I-I-I'll…” He fumbled around looking for a suitable threat that might make an impression on the hardheaded female he'd lost his heart to all those years ago. “I'll send you an auto-inflating raft booby trapped to go off in your living room. Then you'll be sorry."
The ice and fear between them cracked a bit as she grinned up at him. Of all the ridiculous bluffs he could have threatened her with, an auto-inflating raft was the best he could come up with? Her boy was seriously losing his touch.
She knew then that this was going to be an ongoing joke between them and that she would continue to torture him with the promise of sending him a teddy bear to keep him warm and comfy at night. She loved her ‘idiot boyfriend'-as he would forever be known as after this night of non-proposal-and would never intentionally do anything to make his bootcamp tougher for him. Realllllly. But she wasn't above having a little fun with him in the meantime.
And have fun she did. Over the next few weeks that he was away at bootcamp, Marcy kept the post office in business with cards and letters. She'd done a little investigating and tracked down his mail station. The first letter, welcoming him to the next phase of his adventurous new life, had actually arrived the same day he reported. And letters and pictures, all that was allowed to be sent, arrived in a steady stream to remind him of exactly what he was going through bootcamp for. Some were pictures of her and Alex and ‘home.’ Others were cutouts of fully operational US Army Rangers in camo paint holding big, scary-looking things that went bang and boom and that you had to yell, ‘incoming’ about. Written at the bottom in bold black marker was, “Ranger Paul!"
And with each letter, the mention of how much she was enjoying designing and building his bear… what it looked like… how pretty its white fur and big chocolate brown button eyes were. In one letter, she had even taken pictures of various bear outfits in the shop-her favorite was the pink ballerina bear-and included a little form to fill out of which ones he liked best along with a self-addressed stamped envelope so he could send it back to her. Marcy had laughed until she couldn't breathe at what he'd sent back and saved the reply for the scrapbook she was making for him. She could practically feel Paul squirm as he read her letters and knew that if he'd been able to call her from bootcamp there would have been a little tinge of worry in the back of his voice that she might actually carry through on the ‘promise.'