Curtis (12 page)

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1966

I suggested something new today. I asked Mrs. Walker if I could cook dinner and if we could have the entire family home for it. I was surprised to see the smile that lit up her face. She agreed, then the two of us worked in the kitchen together. She told the kids that they had to be here, and everyone showed up. Afterwards, I helped her clean the kitchen, and we agreed that, from now on, we would have supper together on Sundays. I like the idea of that. I think it’s a great tradition, one that I want to have with my own kids one day.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1966

It has officially been two years since Curtis left. Two years since I’ve seen his handsome face (in person). He’s been sending me pictures, but those are still just images on paper and not as good as the real thing. I remember when he told me he enlisted, he said he would be gone for three years. I thought I would get to see him at least once. I thought that was how it worked, but it seems as though Curtis isn’t allowed to come home. He has only called a couple of times since the day I broke down on the phone, but he hasn’t spoken to me, only to his mother. I can’t exactly blame him. It probably wasn’t easy listening to me sobbing uncontrollably, so maybe that’s why he doesn’t call. He knows it’s hard on me. He has mentioned how much he is working, and I’m glad that he’s not on the front lines in harm’s way. That helps to ease my mind a little, but nothing would be better than if I got to see him. I miss him terribly.

chapter EIGHTEEN

~ 1967 ~

Letter from Curtis:

January 26, 1967

Lorrie,

There are two parts to this letter. First, the details on what I’m doing. The second … well, just keep reading.

Tensions are rising in North Vietnam. Things are escalating, and we got word today that we will likely be sent there. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but honey, this is my job, my responsibility. I would give anything to come home to you, and if we can end the war, that’ll be possible. So please understand. I love you and I miss you.

Now for the second part… You mentioned in your letter that you’re ready to make love to me. If you only knew what that does to me, how that makes me feel. Even now, as I write this letter, I’m so hard I can hardly see straight. Remember the day that I kissed you for the first time? You asked me if I had ever kissed a girl? What you didn’t ask was whether or not I’d ever made love to a girl. I know there were always rumors going around about me, but Lorrie, I’m still a virgin, the same as you. I’ve never been with a woman before, and you’re the only woman I ever intend to be with. I have and will always put you first, but you should know right here and now, sending me letters like that makes my dick hard. It makes me think of all the things I plan to do to you when I get home. And baby, I plan to do a lot of things.

Now that that’s out of the way, I hope you know I love you, and even before you sent that, I ached to come home to you, now even more so.

I love you.

Curtis

P.S. Hold off before you send me another letter. The address is going to change. I’ll make sure you get that information.

FRIDAY, MARCH 3, 1967

I received another letter from Curtis, but this one wasn’t like the others. Then again, after the last letter I sent him, I didn’t expect it to be. I had managed to get up the nerve to tell him how I feel, and in return, he did the same. As I sit here, thinking about him, my body aches for his. In ways I never imagined.

BUT… If he thought he could throw me off by adding the sweet stuff in the middle, he is sorely mistaken. Even though I loved getting the letter so I could hear how he was doing, the last few words stole all the pleasure out of it. This one made me panic. Once again, I cried like a baby, but this time my heart is filled with fear. He’s being sent to Vietnam. I won’t lie and say I know much about what is going on other than what I hear in town or on television from time to time. It’s like the people here are turning against the soldiers, thinking somehow this is their fault. I don’t like that they think that way. I think I’ve been too scared to really focus on it, but I know it’s not good. They say the war has been going on for too long. That we will not win. I just want Curtis to come home to me.

People are dying, lots of people. I ask myself those what-if questions every day. What if he gets shot? What if he doesn’t come back the same as when he went away? What if, God forbid, he dies? What if I never get another chance to tell him how much I love him? The not knowing that he will come back to me is the hardest part. He owns my heart and my soul, and I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without him. Still, I try not to think about those things, but it’s hard.

I know these are rough times for both of us, what with having to be away from each other and all, but I know in the end it will be worth it. He will be home one day (hopefully soon), and we can start our life together when he does. I’m trying to be a grown-up about this because I’m no longer a child. I’m married now, and I have to remember that. No matter what, I refuse to regret any decisions that we’ve made, because in the end, these are the decisions that will lay the groundwork for our life.

MONDAY, APRIL 15, 1967

For just a moment, I’m going to stop pretending to be a grown-up. I miss my husband. I want him to come home. I’m so mad at him for leaving me behind. Sometimes it feels like someone cracked my chest open and is squeezing my heart. I’m trying to keep up appearances, smiling until my face hurts, laughing at everyone’s stupid jokes, cooking dinner, and acting as though I’m not being gutted every minute of every day that Curtis is away. I’ll keep this to myself because it doesn’t do anyone any good to hear it. I definitely don’t want Curtis to know. He has so much to deal with. But being without him is killing me. Slowly.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 26, 1967

Today I turn nineteen. Not that it’s any different from when I turned eighteen. I still don’t get to spend the day with Curtis. I haven’t received a letter from him in a while, which makes my heart hurt. I know he’s okay because Mrs. Walker made Gerald find out for sure since he’s the only one who calls. Gerald tried to reassure Mrs. Walker, telling her that Curtis didn’t have the same privileges as an officer. I get that. Kind of. The good news, Curtis is not in combat, but he is in Southeast Asia, I’m told.

Once again, I’m starting to wonder if he is purposely not sending letters or calling. It didn’t slip by me that he never responded when I stated in my letter that I thought he was avoiding me. I mentioned it to Mrs. Walker one day, and she told me to remember that this is just as hard on him as it is on me. I know that. I do. I think I might lose sight of that at times because I miss him so much.

I just want to hear from him, and the more days that pass, the harder it gets for me. I still cry every day, though not quite as much. I’m wondering if I’ll ever stop crying. Then again, the day that I do might not be a good day after all.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 4, 1967

I’ve been watching the news a lot more lately. From what I’ve seen, we now have around five hundred thousand troops in Vietnam, and they just sent forty-five thousand more. It hurts my heart to know that Curtis is one of them. Gerald has already been over there, fighting, even getting wounded. Curtis was right, things are escalating. Now, the only thing I seem to do is pray. I can’t stop worrying that he’ll get hurt, maybe killed. This is serious. They’re fighting day in and day out, and it’s only escalating. I need God to keep Curtis safe, to bring him home to me.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1967

It’s been another one of those days when I don’t feel like pretending anymore. I need to hear from Curtis. I’m slowly going crazy. At times, I’m so upset I want to stomp my feet and scream until I can’t scream anymore. I’m doing my best not to let anyone see that side of me, but I know I can’t hide it all the time, even if I try. I can’t wait until he comes home. I keep reminding myself that will be soon. I hate that I’m beginning to get angry. I told myself in the beginning that I wouldn’t. I can’t seem to help it, though. With him being gone, I feel abandoned.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1967

I went to see Momma today. I don’t know if she was happy to see me or not. She acted like she was, but she made the comment that I hadn’t bothered to come until now. She said Mitch comes by a couple of times a month. I didn’t bother to remind her that she didn’t go to my wedding or even my high school graduation. It’s not worth arguing about. I didn’t see Daddy, but that was on purpose. I made sure he wasn’t going to be there before I went over.

We talked for a little while and I played with Owen. He’s so cute. Kathy and Celeste weren’t there. Everything seemed so different than when I left. Momma looks a lot older now. She doesn’t smile very much at all. I asked her if I could come by again, and she said yes, so that’s what I’m planning on doing.

I’ve also started counting down the days until Curtis comes home. It should be soon. It’s been almost three years. I can’t wait to see him.