In a Book Club Far Away(9)
“In fact, I have a book on my nightstand,” she pointed out.
He snorted. “The Bible is not, technically, a book.”
“Don’t let my mother hear you say that. It’s a family heirloom.”
Logan stretched out a hand, a signal for her to come close, to snuggle in. This was another routine step in their silent apologies to each other. Because he wasn’t the type to say sorry—and, well, she, she was always right, so why should she?—she stepped forward and buried her face in his chest while he kissed the top of her head.
“Lemme see that invite,” he said.
Regina placed the invitation in his hand and grabbed a soda from the fridge. She plopped down in one of the chairs of their two-person dining room set and brought her knees to her chest.
His eyes gleamed. “Oh, fancy.”
She popped the can open. “Hand-lettered. You know it’s serious.”
An eyebrow rose. He slipped the marbled paper from the envelope. “From Captain Chang’s wife? I didn’t realize they decided to live off post. Oh, and printed fancy paper, too. ‘Hello, neighbors! Since we’re all connected to Fort Fairfax but live off post, I thought I’d start a book club. For our first meeting, I picked the book just so we can get it started. It’s called The Hunger Games. It was just published a few years ago, but I hear it is a page-turner. Now, don’t be wary that it’s teen fiction! I know most of us have read Twilight—don’t pretend you haven’t! Book club will be four weeks from today, August 28, at my house: 2110 Bell Street Apartment A, Millersville Heights Apartments. Can’t wait to meet all of you.’” He snickered. “Book club. You’re more of a movie club kind of person, don’t you think? And even then, if it’s not up your alley, you fall right asleep. And snore, too, actually. Speaking of, that should have been covered in our premarriage counseling: how to handle each other’s snoring.” He was practically yelling over the exhaust, and with the kitchen window open to the expanse of the shared backyard, where kids were playing and parents hovering nearby, Regina winced. She imagined the quick spread of gossip like peanut butter on toast that ended up all over the gosh-damn place—Did you know that Regina Castro snores like a Mack truck? That is, if the neighbors already weren’t talking about their raised voices last night.
She could’ve clapped back that their premarriage counseling also didn’t cover a husband who seemed incapable of acting like an adult. That somehow, his bachelor housekeeping skills had disappeared the moment they got married. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t stay awake. She was exhausted.
And yet, when he ditched the letter and cursed the pot of burnt noodles as he plated the dish, worry etched in the lines of his forehead, she refrained from saying a word.
He was joking. And neither of them was perfect.
She countered. “I dunno. It sounds interesting. I’ve never been invited to spouse stuff.”
Being dual military sometimes put her in the between. She was sometimes accidentally excluded from spouse functions, because she herself was active duty. And the fact that she and Logan lived in the first community beyond Fort Fairfax’s gates often kept her out of the loop of social functions. Though, interestingly, while she and Logan had wanted to be away from the pressure of living next to people they worked with and opted for Millersville, they soon learned that every single neighbor was also connected to the post.
“Should I go?” Regina asked.
“It’s your call. Captain Chang is the new company XO. It would be a good way to get to know his wife before the unit deploys. He seems like a good guy, so she’s probably nice enough.”
Regina bit her lip, understanding the politics of it all. But she wasn’t good with women. Men, yes. She could banter with her brothers, could shoot the shit with her cousins. But women? Maybe she was meeting the wrong kind of friends, but she had always been labeled rough, sarcastic, and competitive.
But it was important in any line of work to get to know the leaders, and Logan was right. Since the 701st Infantry Battalion would soon pack up and head out for their routine cycle in Afghanistan in a little more than a month, it would behoove Regina to be plugged in. This was going to be their first deployment.
“The Hunger Games is a children’s book,” she said as a final objection.
“I’ve never even heard of it.” He hiked his hands on his hips; his forehead was sheened with sweat. “But, um, babe?”
“Let me guess. We should order in. Or I cook.”
He nodded guiltily.
Regina hefted herself to her feet and gestured toward the living room. “Out of my way, solider.”
She might not have been a big reader, but she could cook anything out of nothing.
CHAPTER SIX
Adelaide
August 2011
“This isn’t your first rodeo. Buck up,” Adelaide whispered into the antique gilded mirror she’d purchased from a Flohmarkt in Germany, she and Matt’s last duty station. She’d haggled and gotten it for a steal at fifteen euro, though it could easily have cost her over three hundred dollars in the States, because despite its age, there wasn’t a crack in the glass. And to her great amusement, it had fit into this tiny powder room in their new apartment.
Everything was minuscule in these Millersville Heights apartments. Small closets, tiny kitchen cupboards; arms out, Adelaide could’ve reached from one end of this bathroom to the other lengthwise. She wasn’t sure how the movers had gotten her antique German Schrank through the narrow hallway. But housing on Fort Fairfax, which was larger, didn’t allow certain dog breeds, and Scout, their seven-year-old bulldog, was like her son.