Page 35 of The Art of Dying

“It’s called a clicker,” I said, grabbing it off the end table and tossing it to him.

“What the sam hell is a clicka?” he teased, referring to my accent.

I waved him away, grabbed the cordless phone, and closed my bedroom door behind me before I dialed Mack’s number.

“Kitsch?” Mack answered, excitement in her voice. She seemed out of breath. “Oh my God, good timing. The phone rang right when I was unlocking the door!”

“Hi, honey,” I said, settling into my bed, propping the pillows behind my head.

“I’ve missed you! Alecia and Lucas invited me over last night. We went to Blockbuster and rented a couple of movies. I’ll never do that again.”

I chuckled. “Why not?”

“Four hours of third wheeling it with those two? No, thanks. I can’t believe she’s not pregnant.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she said, annoyed. A second later, she snapped out of it. “So, tell me everything.”

“I don’t wanna talk about work. I wanna talk about my girl.”

“Well,” she said, her voice soft. “Work is… work. Sully helped me with some frames I wanted to hang. He also changed the oil in your truck, it was time.”

“Damn. Forgot to do that while I was home. He’s a real one. Don’t fall in love with him while I’m gone.”

She giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile.God, I miss her.

I made a lot of small talk trying to stall before I broached the subject, but Mack could tell something was up.

“What’s your deal, Kitsch?”

“Me? What do you mean?”

“And now you’re playing dumb. You’re being weird.”

“I was just thinking this morning how I’ve officially been gone longer than we were together.”

“We’re still together.”

“It bothers me.”

She sighed. “I know. But we both knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“You know…” I trailed off, losing my nerve. I could stay cool under fire in Mogadishu, but risking rejection from Mack terrified me.

“Spit it out, Kitsch.”

“Yes, ma’am. I was just… thinking,” I swallowed, “I could come home to you almost every night if you were here.”

“Like… move there?”

“Yeah, we could get a place on-base, you’d have health insurance, make friends with the other wives. Oceanside is great, and San Clemente and Fallbrook are right here, too. Camp Pendleton is the size of Rhode Island, plenty here to keep you busy, even when I’m gone.”

“But you’re being deployed this year, as in… soon, right? And… what do you mean? Make friends with theotherwives?”

“You’d be safe here on base and—”

“Terrell.” She only said my first name when she was insistent or annoyed, and she had the tone to match both.

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