3 comments/ 8331 views/ 3 favorites Finding Home By: latineyesdream It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone brightly, and the breeze danced along the ground. It fluttered softly against her. It tugged at her skirt, and pushed the soft fabric of her dress against her body, accentuating the curves she tried to hide behind the baggy dress. She had always thought of herself as fat, but he saw her for the lush goddess he knew her to be. He could remember her soft lush body pressed against him, and the sweet, flowery scent that was her own. There wasn't a perfume or flower created to compete with her soft scent. She stood average height, but her sensible heels gave another inch to her 5'6" frame. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her full curvy hips swayed with every step, it was an unconscious sensual swing. Her bottom was full and round. Her legs were strong, the skin be-hind her knees sensitive. Her body was only part of the torture of wanting her. Her face was so captivating, in the innocence that seemed to shine through. Her skin was a soft, olive tone with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her chocolate brown eyes were so open, innocent, and they held no secrets. Everything she was and felt could be seen in those dark depths. Her eyes had always been his undoing. Her mouth was where the innocence ended. It was lush and pouty, and had instantly put naughty fantasies to mind, of what her mouth could do to him. She had been completely unaware of her appeal. He had walked away from her all those months ago, because he had felt his heart getting away from him. She was everything he never knew he wanted, and he now realized everything he needed. At first he felt that walking away was going to be easy. He had convinced himself that she needed time to discover her new found sensuality. He had been her first lover. He had felt a deep sense of possessiveness when she told him he was to be her first. There had been a deep thrill to know he had been the first to explore her softness. To fill her and hear her breath catch, and feel the tremor of her against him as her body accommodated him. When he found himself so wrapped up in her that they were practically living together, he began to doubt that she could love him. He was an asshole, who would use women and then go on his merry way once he had fucked them. Somehow she had become more to him, and he realized how deep he was in when she was the first thing he needed to see in the morning and when their schedules didn't permit it, he was grumpy and uncommunicative at work. He had dreamed of her, and felt the loss of her in his soul. He was sure she had truly cursed him when he last saw her. He would wake and hear her shaking voice filled with hurt and anger. "You will never find someone that will love you as much as I do. You will never find fulfillment in anyone else's embrace." She had opened the door to her apartment, and didn't say another word to him. His throat felt tight, and his heart screamed out at the fool he was being, but his arrogance spurred him on. He had been so sure that he was doing the right thing. Love didn't exist for men like him, lust he understood that was universal, but she couldn't love him. No one, not even his own parents had loved him. She was new to the game, and was confusing great sex with love. Okay the sex was spectacular, but she wouldn't know to compare him. Months had passed, and he hadn't been able to be with another woman. Somehow when he ventured out into the stream of casual lovers he had before he met her; someone who wanted a hard fast screw with no strings. He couldn't bring himself to actually touch them. The women were always lacking. Their bodies were either too hard, their sexual flirtations too pushy, or their expensive bottled scent was overpowering. He would sit across the table from them, and ache for her. He stood watching, aching, and afraid; praying that he hadn't lost her forever with his stupidity. He knew that she was on her way home, and didn't know he followed her. He had started his campaign to win her back by being a secret admirer. He hoped and prayed that it was working. He would give little hints with each gift, and every time he sent one to her, he sent it with the hope that he hadn't shattered the one chance to have someone love him. Somehow he had thought he could be could be close to her passion, her sweetness and not lose his heart. He knew now that his heart had always been hers. He had lost it when she had turned those big brown eyes, filled with censure, and lectured him on the required silence of the library. Maybe if she didn't hate him completely now, if she ever really loved him she would remember the little hints he was leaving with her. He watched her holding the daisy filled basket and saw she was studying the card as she waited for the light to change. ********************************** She walked along the street oblivious to the beautiful day. She was grateful that she knew her route home so well. Her body was on automatic, as her mind raced. Someone had been sending her little gifts all week. She would read the notes and cards, and her heart would race. She had a feeling that it might be Jake. The one man that she had loved so completely, and being so naïve as to think he could love her back. She wasn't sure why she thought it might be him, other than the fact that her body thrummed to life when she saw what her "secret admirer" had brought her that day. The basket of daisies had held a small post card painting of a woman leaning against her lover as he held her in front of him. The man in the painting has his hand running through her hair, and had his face turned against her throat. There wasn't anything truly racy about the picture. They were clothed in Victorian style clothing and there wasn't anything pornographic about it. It was actually a sweet and tender moment. Except her body had throbbed and a damp heat pooled between her thighs remembering her dream just that morning. It seemed fateful that a post card that held such a simple image had an erotic significance for her. She blushed as she remembered her dream had brought her awake, her body throbbing in orgasm. His erection had filled her to bursting, and he had her on her knees in front of him as he slammed into her from behind. With his hand fisting in her hair, adding that sweet pain as he arched her body against his chest and used his other hand to flick her clit in time with his thrusting. Just as she was reaching that pulsing release he had bent his head to bite her neck. She had cum so hard that she thought she had wet herself. She had shyly confessed that she had loved him taking her that way. He would invade her dreams and it was like they were together again. At night her body would remember him. It had been months since Jake had broken things off with her. Her heart just couldn't heal. She entered her apartment and immediately removed her shoes. She was going to move on with her life. She was young, and she knew that time healed all wounds. She wished for the day when the dreaming would finally stop, and she could move on with her life. Judging by the way she reacted to an innocent picture. She wasn't sure her heart was ready to let go, but her waking rational mind certainly was. She sat on her couch and studied the flowers and post card. Her body was on full alert. She wasn't sure she wanted to know who her secret admirer was. Because she couldn't admit to herself that her heart and body were wishing it was Jake, and she couldn't take it if it wasn't him. Finding Home The final ending to 'Finding Love'. If you haven't read it you should before reading 'Finding Home'. It was a cold and rainy day, typical for mid-winter in Gainesville. My mood was as dark and miserable as the day. I stood watching the sea of black umbrellas pass by from the covered entrance way to Mallory Hall waiting for my wife, Susan, to arrive. Finally, I spotted her bright orange and blue striped umbrella weaving its way toward me through the mass of students scurrying to their next class. I had just finished teaching a class in calculus for my friend and mentor, Paul Jaeger, the Chairman of the Mathematics Department at the University of Florida. He had gone to Chicago with his wife to attend the christening of his second grandchild and had asked if I would take his place for a few days. I was only too happy to comply as I always enjoyed helping students with advanced mathematics. As we met I stood under her umbrella and kissed her, saying, "I have some news for you sweetheart." "And I have some news for you, too," she replied. "But let's get out of this rain first, I'm cold." As we walked over to my car parked in the faculty lot I reflected on the past eighteen months of my life. I had been seriously wounded in the rescue of Susan's father from Taliban kidnapers in Afghanistan. My injuries were so serious that it would require a prolonged period of recuperation and physical therapy. John O'Hara and his wife Carol insisted I stay with them in gratitude for what I had done. It was in his home that I fell in love with his youngest daughter, Susan. After a series of rather bizarre events we were married on Christmas Day. Since then I have been undergoing treatment and physical therapy at the Malcolm-Randall VA Hospital in preparation for return to active duty. My last evaluation revealed that I was fit to return to duty with my SEAL Team. I was dreading having to tell Susan this news. When we were in the car heading home, Susan told me her news. "You know I have been sick to my stomach every morning for the past week or so. This morning my sister took me in to see her doctor. Rick, you are going to be a daddy. From all indications I'm about six weeks pregnant," she said. "Oh my God! That's wonderful. Me a father. I'm thrilled to death," I exclaimed. The rest of the drive home was spent talking about what we needed to do to prepare for the baby. The house we were living in was in a western suburb of Gainesville about fifteen minutes from the university. It was a gift from Susan's parents for our wedding. After pulling into the garage and entering our home we went into the living room and sat together on the sofa. Holding her in my arms and kissing her I, again, told her how happy I was with her news and asked if she knew when the baby was due. She told me the best guess was sometime in late August or early September. Then she asked, "OK. Now what's your news?" Sighing deeply I replied, "Sweetheart, I'm being called back to active duty. I have to report March the first." She started crying, reached for me and hugged me tightly all the while whispering, "no . . no . . no." The next six weeks flew by rapidly. Then it was time for me to leave. The night before as we were in bed together, she made me promise to come home in time for the birth of our son. On her last visit to the doctor the sonogram had revealed the baby was a male and we had decided to name him Frederick John Steiger (Fredrick for me and John for her father). But we both agreed we would always call him Ricky. On March first I flew to Coronado, California to be reunited with my old SEAL team for extensive training. I had promised Susan I would call her every day to tell her what was happening. In the middle of July I was briefed on our mission. When I called home that night I couldn't tell her what the mission was, where we were going or how long I would be gone. It was all top secret. I did promise her that after this was all over I was going to resign my commission, re-enter civilian life and never leave her again. A week later our team was flown to a base in Israel to train with Israeli special forces. Our mission was to enter Iran and destroy a plant that was in the process of constructing a nuclear weapon. Chapter Two It was in late July when Rick called me and said he would be unable to get in touch with me by phone or email for quite some time. Don't worry, he told me. I'll be fine, I love you very much. Monday, August nineteenth I received a telephone call from my mom telling me she and dad were coming over later that morning. Around eleven o'clock the bell rang at the front door and I went to answer it. Standing at the front door was my mother and father and two men in uniform, a Navy Chaplin and a Captain. I knew immediately that I was never going to see my husband again. He was missing and presumed dead on a mission deep in Iran. They couldn't give me any specific details on what had happened, but did tell me that according to all reports he had died a hero. Mom and dad stayed with me for the next several days while I cried my eyes out. My sister, Patricia, and her two little girls came to the house to also help me grieve. The worst thing was I didn't even have his body to bury and to say good-bye. On August thirtieth the telephone rang and my father answered it. After few minutes of conservation he summoned me to the phone saying, "It's the President of the United States and he wishes to speak with you." Handing me the phone I answered, "Hello. This is Mrs, Steiger." After he introduced himself to me he said, "Mrs. Steiger, on behalf of myself, my wife Anne and the American people I want to express my deepest sympathy on the loss of your husband. He was a true American patriot and died serving his country to make the world a safer place. I know you are about to give birth to your first child, but as soon as you are able to safely travel I would very much like you to attend a ceremony at the White House honoring your husband." I thanked him for his kind words and thoughtfulness in speaking with me personally. He added that his office would stay in touch with me and would make all arrangements for me and my entire family to attend the ceremony at the White House. Before ending the call he told me that he had ordered a senior naval officer, who was familiar with the mission, to personally brief me on all the particulars surrounding Rick's death. He was going to be instructed to answer any and all questions I might have to help me bring closure to my loss. I gave the phone back to my father and fell into his arms crying uncontrollably. "Oh daddy . . . daddy. What am I going to do. I miss him so much . . . I miss him so much. It's not fair. I loved him so much and now he is never coming home and never going to see his son." Thursday night, September fifth I went into labor and early the next morning gave birth to my . . . our son. When I looked at him I saw he had his father's eyes, deep blue. I just knew as he grew up he would look just like his dad. That thought brought some comfort to me. Sunday morning I took Ricky home. Mom and my sister were going to stay with me until I could get back on my feet and be able to look after him myself. Six weeks later, on October the tenth, I had a visitor. Admiral Samuelson and two aides came to the house. They had called the day before to ask if it would be ok. I requested that my mother, father, sister and her husband be present to hear what they wanted to tell me. Shortly after one o'clock they arrived and met with me and my family. They told me everything knew about the covert operation to destroy an Iranian nuclear weapons facility. A joint team of U.S. Navy SEALs and Israeli special ops commandos carried out an operation on the underground weapons plant. Explosive charges were placed at several strategic points throughout the plant. As they were leaving, the team was set upon by a force of Iranian soldiers and a fierce fight took place. Rick and one of the Israeli commandos were bringing up the rear and providing cover so the rest of the team could make their escape. The team managed to get out of the facility and made their way to the extraction point. They waited for two hours for my husband and his companion to join up with them but they never showed. When the timed explosive charges detonated, destroying the entire facility, they had no choice but to leave. Because of the success of this operation a possible nuclear war in the Middle East had been adverted. Chapter Three On November fifth an aide to the President called to invite me and my family to attend a ceremony at the White House honoring my husband. Arrangements were made to fly us to Washington, D.C. We would fly up on Tuesday. The ceremony would be held on Wednesday the day before Thanksgiving. Early on the morning of November twenty-sixth a limousine arrived at my home to drive my parents, sister, her husband, their two little girls, my son and me to the Jacksonville Naval Air Station for our flight to the Nation's Capital. When we arrived another limousine, with a police escort, took us to the Hay-Adams Hotel just across the street from the White House. My parents, my son and I shared a two bedroom suite over looking the White House grounds. My sister, brother and their two children had a similar suite of rooms next to ours. The next morning a car picked us up from the hotel and drove us over to the White House. When we arrived we were met by the President and his wife, Ann, on the steps of the North Entrance. After greeting me and my family we were escorted inside. We went into the Oval Office and the President, again, expressed his deepest sympathy to me for the sacrifice my husband had made. After several minutes of conservation one of the President's aides ushered us into the Presidential Briefing Room for the ceremony. We were seated right in front of the Podium from which the President would speak. Seated behind us were members of my husband's SEAL Team, officials from the Israeli Embassy, other government officials and the White House Press Corps. Several dignitaries and some members of the SEAL Team spoke describing the events which lead to Rick's death. I don't remember much of what was said as I was overcome with my emotions. I do remember that each SEAL spoke of my husband's bravery and self-sacrifice and a few actually had tears streaming down their face as they recounted their stories. Finally, the President stepped to the podium. He began by acknowledging me and my entire family and expressing his sympathy along with that of the American people for my loss. Before he could continue, an aide entered the room and, covering the microphone with his hand, whispered something in the President's ear. The President then announced that the ceremony would be temporarily delayed for a few moments. Stepping away from the podium he left the room with his aide. Ten minutes later another aide came to where we were seated and asked me and my family to accompany him back to the Oval Office. When we stepped inside the President was on the phone and all I heard him say was, "I don't care what it takes, just do it." Stepping from behind his desk he came over to where I was seated, knelt down, took my hands in his and said, "Mrs. Steiger, I have some wonderful news for you. Your husband is not dead. He was picked up by a Navy destroyer this morning, along with another man, from a small boat in the Persian Gulf. He is currently aboard the aircraft carrier 'Eisenhower'. I have been assured that, other than a flesh wound to his right leg, he is in good health. I have issued orders that he be flown back here as soon as he is fit to travel." I sat there for a moment not being able to comprehend what he just told me. Then I burst into tears. My sister quickly took Ricky from my arms as I stood and hugged my mother and father. We were all shocked with the news. We were crying and laughing at the same time. My two nieces didn't really know what was going on until my brother, Scott, picked them up and told them that Uncle Rick was alive and was coming home. Then they, too, began to cry with tears of joy. The President than summoned his press secretary to the office and instructed him to return to the briefing room to announce the good news. A few seconds after he left we could hear clapping and cheering echoing from down the hall. After we had calmed down some, the President told us that as soon as he received further information surrounding Rick's rescue he would pass it long to me immediately. He then offered us a private tour of the White House and lunch with him and the First Lady. Later that afternoon I was told that Rick had been airlifted off the carrier and would be flown back to the U.S. after a short stop at the naval base in Sigonella, Italy to be de-briefed. He then would be flown to Oceania Naval Air Station and arrive home late Thursday afternoon, Thanksgiving Day. We would be taken by car Thursday morning and driven to the base to welcome him. Chapter Four At two forty-five the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day a U.S. Navy transport plane touched down and taxied over to where a large crowd of people were gathered. In addition to my family several high ranking naval officers waited with us. The rest of the crowd was made up of moms, dads, wives and children of returning sailors. I watched as the passengers began coming down the boarding stairway. Many of them were wounded and required assistance in disembarking. Finally, I saw him as he gingerly made his way down the stairway. He was met by two high ranking officers and escorted away from the milling crowd of spectators. I watched him searching the crowd as I made my way from behind where he was standing. For a fleeting moment my mind flashed back to that time almost two years ago. He had his back turned to be at that time as well. I remembered taking off my dress, bra and panties and throwing them at him to gain his attention. It worked. Today all I had to do was call out his name and he immediately turned as I rushed into his open arms. I was crying so hard it was difficult to kiss, but we managed. As we embraced the rest of the family surrounded us. Rick saw our son for the first time in my mother's arms. She came up to Rick and gently placed his sleeping son into his arms. As Rick held our son for the first time, he began crying and whispered into my ear, "I'm sorry, so sorry. I broke my promise to you. I wasn't here for his birth." I kissed him and whispered back, "But you were here for the most important part." "What was that," he inquired. "When we made him, silly," I answered kissing him again. Epilogue Susan had the nightmare again and it took me over an hour to calm her down. She finally fell asleep in my arms a little after three-thirty. I did not. As I laid in bed, holding her, I realized that what I did yesterday was the right thing to do or things would just get worse for her. A little after six I quietly got up from bed and left her sleeping. Going into the kitchen I made a pot of coffee. Pouring myself a cup I went outside to sit on the deck to welcome the sunrise. I knew what had to happen, what I had to do, and would be sharing my thoughts with her later in the morning. It was a little after seven when she stumbled out onto the deck and sat in my lap with both of her arms clutching me tightly. "Was it the same one" I asked? "Yes", she replied. "I was at your funeral at Arlington. Mom, dad and so many of our friends and your comrades were there. The Navy Chaplin spoke, but I didn't hear him. Six officers held the flag over your coffin and two more stood guard at either end. At the conclusion, as the flag was being folded, I heard a bugler playing 'Taps' somewhere in the distance." "As the Chaplin approached me with the folded flag, I turned and gave Ricky to my mother to hold. I turned around and accepted the flag and then turned to take Ricky back. Everyone was gone . . . disappeared and when I looked back to your coffin it, along with the Chaplin and entire Honor guard were gone as well. I was alone, all alone." "That's when I woke up screaming," she sobbed onto my shoulder. "Oh, Rick. It was horrible. Everyone I loved and cared about had been ripped away from me." "Sweetheart you are not alone and you'll never be alone again. I made some decisions that I want to share with you," I said softly. "I resigned my commission effective immediately and . . . ," I didn't get to finish my thought when she interrupted me. "Oh no Rick, you can't. I know how much you love your career, you just can't. I won't let you," she said. "Susan, do you remember the day we starting talking again? Do you remember what you did on the reviewing stand to shock me into listening to you? You humiliated yourself without a thought of any consequences." "Why did you do something so outrageous, so against every value you held. Why," I asked? Before she could answer I continued. "Because you loved me and you would have done anything to make me see that. Susan, everyday, while I was in Iran, I promised God if he let me come back to you I would never leave you again." "I love you so very much more than my career. No arguments now. Please accept my decision, sweetheart," I asked. "Ok," she said with tears in her eyes. "I had two options," I said. "Paul offered me a job teaching math to under grads at the university. I enjoy teaching, but I had to decline. I didn't see it leading anywhere and there are no challenges teaching lower level mathematics for me. Second, I spoke with your father and told him what I was looking to do and why. He immediately offered me a position with his firm and I accepted it. I asked him for a couple assurances. One being, I start at an entry level position. I don't want anyone thinking I was hired to an upper level job just because I am the boss's son. The second, would he guarantee that in any travel out of town I could take you with me. I told him I didn't want to be away from you, ever again." "Susan, he accepted my conditions with the provision that he and your mother would be our first choice to watch Ricky while we were away. I start on Monday", I finished. "Oh Rick", she sobbed that's wonderful." I wish I could say that her nightmares stopped immediately, they didn't. But they did become less frequent over time and did stop completely when she became pregnant with our second child, another boy. We named him John, after her dad. I'm happy with my life now and wouldn't change it for anything.