As soon as I heard that Sean would be home for a short leave in late October, it seemed obvious that I should invite him to tag along with me to the big Halloween costume party some of my friends were throwing. I knew he'd been lonely on his first deployment, and could use all the distractions he could get while he was home.
Sean and I weren't really that close. He was 19. I was 27. He'd enlisted with the Marines fresh out of high school. I was an anti-war liberal who rarely agreed with any decision to send our troops into harm's way. But he was a sweet kid, and there was something about him I'd always liked, ever since his older brother, a co-worker of mine, had introduced us at a work function back when Sean was still in high school.
At my co-worker's urging, I had sent Sean some e-mails while he was on his six-month stint in Afghanistan. That led to putting together a care package on behalf of our office. Soon I was signing up for Skype at Sean's request, so he could chat with a familiar face who wasn't just another relative. And before I knew it, I had, for the first time in my life, a real, personal connection with an active-duty service member on deployment halfway around the world.
It had been an enlightening experience for me, corresponding with him over the past few months. Even though he'd chosen his lot in life, enlisting like he did to follow in the footsteps of most men in his family, the reality of his situation had hit hard as he spent his first real time away from home. He was homesick, he was lonely, and he was, obviously, scared. For me, someone who'd gone through life to this point with zero personal connection to the military, it opened my eyes to the day-to-day struggles of these young men who were forced to grow up so fast.
So, I found myself in new territory. In the midst of my always-busy life, which was usually programmed down to the minute between career and personal obligations, I volunteered to help to plan this young marine's short visit home. When I ran it by his family, they agreed that the Halloween party would be a nice change of pace for him, a rare opportunity to get out of their house, with the steady stream of relatives stopping by to hug their soldier.
***
It was just past eleven in the morning on the day before that party when a knock on my office door pulled my attention away from the spreadsheet I'd been fighting with for most of the morning. Irritated by the distraction as I was just beginning to make progress, I responded somewhat angrily, "Yes, what is it?" Getting no answer, I finally looked up, and my anger quickly dissipated as I saw Sean standing in the doorway, a broad smile on his face.
It took a moment for my brain to make the connection that the muscular young man standing in my doorway was the same person as the scared kid who'd left several months prior. He literally looked like a completely different person. "Sean! I didn't know you'd be stopping by! How are you?" I stood up and walked towards him as I talked, smiling, and accepted his open arms for a big hug. He gripped me tightly, his strong hands clutching my back as our bodies pressed together.
Finally pulling away several moments later, he responded. "Well, my brother insisted that I stop by as soon as I got in. But mostly, I was hoping you'd let me take you to lunch today, Kate?"
His gaze was intense as he spoke, and as I responded, I felt his big blue eyes moving over my body. I had never felt self-conscious around Sean in the past, but now I did - I was suddenly very aware that he was watching my every move, from the way my tight skirt rode up my legs when I sat back down in my office chair, to the rise and fall of my chest as I took each breath, the silky fabric of my blouse clinging to my breasts.
"Ooh, yikes, Sean, I'm so busy, I don't know if I can step away! But please, come in, sit down, tell me about your trip home?"
He proceeded to talk about his experiences, both mundane and profound, for the next half-hour. He pulled out his camera and showed me pictures. Two things gradually became clear: that he needed to talk, and that I wanted to listen. So much for that spreadsheet.
"OK, Sean, I guess I can justify a lunch break after all."
"Really? That's great. I'll drive."
Our drive to the restaurant, about ten minutes away, was filled with more war stories. Just as I would begin to tune out one of his tales about guns or ammo or a lousy CO, he would surprise me with an insightful comment about the conflict, drawing my attention back in. He really had matured since I had seen him last, both physically and emotionally.
He convinced me to have a drink with lunch, something I never did while working, and our conversation gradually tended more towards the risqué, the double entendre, the occasional dirty joke. Some little part of the back of my mind was surprised at my behavior, but it also, perhaps under the influence of the midday drink, felt very easy and comfortable.
The banter between us reached a high point, or perhaps more accurately, a low point, when I played suggestively with the straw in my now-empty drink glass, sucking it in and out of my mouth. Sean quickly took the bait, asking whether it was long enough for me, thick enough for me. I giggled as he mimed with his hands what he thought would be a more appropriate length and girth for my needs. It was about then that I realized I should really be getting back to the office. I was having a great time - naughty banter and a nice long lunch out with a hot young guy - but there was a little part of me that was starting to feel guilty, as well.
"So, Sean, did your brother tell you about the party I want to take you to tomorrow?" I asked as we got back into his car for the drive back to my office.
"Yeah," he replied, "but if it's a costume party, I don't have anything to wear. I don't have anything with me except my fatigues and my old clothes at home, most of which don't seem to fit me anymore."
I looked over at him as he held up his arm and showed off his flexed bicep. It wasn't difficult for my mind to wander to his new, muscular body and how it must be bursting out of his old clothes.
"Hmm, well, I promise I'll come up with something for you."
