A Fresh Start
Copyright© 2025 by rlfj
Chapter 61: Moving Home
Friday, January 22, 1982
The time to dance around it was over. Marilyn and I needed to figure out what we were doing with the rest of our lives, or at least the near future. Neither of us was thrilled with staying in Fayetteville. She wanted to move somewhere more north of here; I wanted to get away from the Army. That part of my life was over, no matter what else I did. Even my deposit on the house in Lawton was gone, it had been nonrefundable.
We had lunch at a small diner near the base. Marilyn dug into her voluminous baby bag and dug out a bottle, and we took turns holding it for Charlie. Otherwise, he was a good boy, and quiet. That would undoubtedly change! We ordered sandwiches for ourselves, and Marilyn reached across the table to take my hand. “Carl, I’m not sure I’ll ever understand why you felt you had to serve in the army, but I’m proud of you.”
I smiled at my wife. “But you’re not sorry I’m out of it, either, are you?”
She smiled back and squeezed my hand. “No, but not as much as you think. It was what you wanted, and that was okay with me. If you can’t be in it anymore, I won’t complain, but I didn’t complain when you were in, either.”
I laughed. “Oh, really? I seem to recall a message I got in Honduras about a future homicide!”
Marilyn laughed, too, causing our son to gurgle and look around for her. “Well, the next time you leave me alone to have a baby, I’ll make good on that!”
The waitress brought our sandwiches, and I stole Marilyn’s pickle and gave her my cole slaw. The waitress chatted with Marilyn and Charlie for a moment, and then went off. “So now what do we do?” asked my wife.
“I guess the first thing is to figure out where to move to. I’ve been thinking about it and more than ever, I think we should at least consider Maryland. It’s where Tusker and Tessa and Suzie live, and where my investment base is.”
“Explain that.”
“Well, the names were in that envelope you weren’t supposed to open. There’s my lawyer, John Steiner, who I’ve known since I was thirteen, and my broker, Missy Talmadge, and Jake Eisenstein, my accountant. They all live in the Timonium and Towson area.”
“I still find that so hard to believe!”
“I’ll introduce you to them. Even if we end up in Kansas, you should know them,” I replied.
“Why would we go to Kansas?”
Marilyn could be a bit literal at times. “I’m just saying, no matter where we end up, you should meet them.”
She nodded. “Given any more thought to what you want to do?”
“No. Maybe after we talk to the brain trust I’ll have an idea. It’s not like I’m under any pressure. Even at a 10% return on my investments, which would be low, I’ll be making at least $3 or $4 million a year. Probably more - there are a number of opportunities coming up.”
Marilyn’s eyes glazed over a bit. “Three or four million dollars! A year? Oh my God! I guess you won’t have to ask my father for a job after all!”
I damn near snorted my Coke out through my nose when she said that. “Good Lord, no! Besides, your dad thinks I’m a loser. He thinks I went into the Army because I couldn’t get a real job!”
Marilyn made a face, as if conceding my point, but she tried to be a dutiful daughter and defend her father. “He’s not that bad!”
“Well, just don’t tell him too much about my money. I don’t need him thinking that the next time he needs a loan he can call us! My terms would be worse than the bank’s! No, I’m not going to work for your father.”
She giggled. “That probably wouldn’t work out too well anyway.”
“No. So, here’s my idea. Why don’t we move back to Maryland and get an apartment for a year? I can show you some rural areas and if you like them, I’ll build you a house. How does that sound?”
Her eyes goggled a bit. “You’ll build a house?”
“Well, no, not me. I’ll hire an engineer or architect or somebody to build a house.” She simply stared in disbelief some more. “So, what would you like in a house? Start thinking about it.”
“I’ve never even thought about building a house. What do I do?”
I shrugged. “Next time you’re at the supermarket, buy one of those house design books and look through it. Get some ideas. It probably won’t happen until the spring, anyway.”
“Wow!”
After lunch, we drove home. I was starting to be able to move well enough that it didn’t hurt very much, though not for long distances or drives. I had also discovered that wearing a heavy Ace bandage on my knee seemed to lock all the pieces into the right position and made my knee a lot more stable.
Charlie had fallen asleep on the drive home, and Marilyn put him in his crib. She found me afterwards standing in front of the mirror over the dresser, looking at my reflection, still in my uniform with the Bronze Star on my chest. It felt weird; after I took it off I would never wear it again. Marilyn came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me from the side. “I don’t think I have ever told you just how handsome you are in your uniform.”
I laughed at that. “I think you must be blind, then. Nobody has ever used my name and the adjective ‘handsome’ in the same sentence.”
“It’s true,” she cooed into my ear. “Why, when we got married, and I saw you standing there in your dress uniform, I got so excited! I always get so hot when I see you looking so good!”
My mouth got dry and my pants got tight! She kept whispering to me, and said, “That medal says you’re an official hero, so I think you need to be thanked like a hero, don’t you?”
I just nodded, and croaked out, “Yeah!”
“Well, I think heroes need a really big thank you! Why don’t you change out of your uniform, and I’ll change into something a little more comfortable, and I’ll show you what I have in mind.”
“Uh, yeah, okay!” You bet, honey! Whatever you want!
I finished undressing and pulled on some shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, commando-style. I looked into the bathroom at that point and Marilyn was in the shower. “Want to make some drinks?” she asked.
“Gin and tonics all right?”
“Thank you.”
I left my cane in the bedroom and limped down to the kitchen, which was where we kept our rather informal liquor cabinet. I cut up a lime and pulled out the tonic, and then made a couple of strong drinks. I carefully carried them back down the hallway to the bedroom. “Where do you want it?”
“In here, on the counter,” she answered. I stepped into the bathroom, but she was still in the shower. “Now, shoo! Go on out to the living room. I’m going to be a while,” I was told.
I headed to the living room and sank down in the La-Z-Boy. I sipped at my gin and tonic and waited for my wife to show up. Please, God, let Charlie have a long, long nap! I had finished my drink when Marilyn showed up.
It was worth the wait. Marilyn came out wearing a criminally short denim skirt that had a row of tiny snaps up the front, mostly unsnapped, and a halter top that wasn’t much more than a bikini top. She also had on some very nice high-heeled sandals. She sauntered over and held up her empty glass. “Care for another drink?” She bent over and picked up my empty glass and flashed me a lot of cleavage.
She headed for the kitchen slowly, really throwing her hips around as she moved out. I struggled to my feet and followed her, just to watch. She smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” so I leaned against the door and let her do it. She made it a work of art! At one point, she rubbed an ice cube over her throat and chest. “It’s so hot!” she complained. Then she dropped the ice cube on the floor. To pick it up, she turned away from me, spread her legs, and then bent at the waist, to pick it up. She must have spent some time in the shower shaving! When she was done with the drinks, she told me to head back out and sit down, and she would carry our drinks.
As soon as I had sat down in my chair, Marilyn crawled onto my lap and sat sideways, completely exposing herself to me. She sipped her drink for a moment, but then wrapped her arms around my neck and began licking and nibbling my neck. “You made me so hot today,” she whispered. “It made me want to do things, nasty things, naughty things.”
Marilyn undid enough of my clothing so that she could have her way with me and do those nasty and naughty things she was whispering to me about. Afterwards she collapsed in my arms. “I don’t know what’s come over you, but I sure like it!” I laughed. I was breathing hard and needed another shower from sweating so hard.
Marilyn giggled at that. “Well, since you’ll be home all the time now, I have to figure out a way to keep you busy!”
“I may need to get a job just to keep from being screwed to death,” I responded. “Hell of a way to go, though!”
“I love you so much!”
Charlie took that moment to wail and announce his presence. We laughed at each other and then disengaged, climbing to our feet. “He’s yours,” she said. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“He can wait. I need a shower myself.”
Charlie survived another five minutes by himself. Marilyn washed up at the sink while I showered quickly. Happily, I noted that afterwards she kept on her little top and skirt and heels. I was going to get lucky later, it seemed.
Monday morning, it was time to start figuring things out for real. I sent Marilyn off with Charlie for a long walk while I started working the phone. Besides, I needed a break! Marilyn had been trying to wear me out, and it was working! Old age was creeping up on me. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, where I could go three or four times in a row. I was only good for twice in a row before I needed a breather before going again. Then again, some things improve with age, like technique, and Marilyn was not complaining on that score!
My first phone call was to my old friend, Explorer Post adviser, and lawyer, John Steiner. I dug out my address book and called him shortly after nine. I had no hope that he would be there or free, but I could leave a message with his secretary to have him call me. I was quite surprised when she said she would put me right through. After a moment, I heard his gravelly voice, “John Steiner.”
“John, it’s Carl Buckman, how are you?”
“Carl! Good to hear from you. How are you doing?”
“Okay. I’m surprised I reached you on a Monday morning! Business slow?”
I got a barking laugh in return. “Funny you should say that. I was supposed to be in a meeting with a client about revising his will, but he died over the weekend!”
“Well, as long as you collected your fee ahead of time...”, I joshed back.
“Very funny! What brings you to call me this lovely morning?” he asked.
“Well, several things. First and foremost, I’m moving back home. I got out of the Army on Friday.”
“What? I thought you were going to go career? What happened?”
I sighed. “The short version is that I made one jump too many and screwed up my leg something fierce. I’ve spent the last month or so in Walter Reed getting rebuilt, and I’m getting medicalled out.”
“Walter Reed? In Washington? You should have called me! I’d have come down and visited. Allen, too! He was visiting for a week last month.” Allen was his son, the President of the Post when I was in.
“You’re right, I should have. How’s Allen doing? Where’d he end up, San Francisco, wasn’t it?”
John laughed. He said, “He seems to like it out there. He says he’s the only straight and single guy in town, and in a supply and demand setting, the demand is high!”
“That sounds like him. He got that degree in economics, so I guess he’s the supply part of the equation.” I had to laugh. Allen had been a pretty straight-laced guy, but he thought with his dick like the rest of us.
“So, you’re out of the Army? Now what?” asked John, getting back on the topic.
“Well, neither Marilyn nor myself want to live in Fayetteville, so I convinced her to give Maryland a shot. What I’m thinking is to rent an apartment for a bit, look around and find a nice piece of property. I promised her I would build her a house and we would settle down.”
“Build or buy?”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.