He twisted his mouth into a frown and knocked on the door.
A long moment later, he knocked again but louder.
I heard the shuffling of footsteps then the door cracked open. Gwen’s sleepy eyes squinted at us from between the crack. She wiped her eyes then smiled, opened the door and stepped to the side.
“Good morning, Gwen.” I gave her a kiss and entered.
“Morning?”
“Hello Gwen.” Travis gave her a kiss and entered.
“Did we wake you?” I asked.
She shuffled back to the bed and collapsed, face first onto it.
I chuckled, looked at Travis and said, “I’ll take that as a yes.” I went to her and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry we woke you. We would have come sooner, but we figured you were busy.”
She mumbled into the sheets, “But I’m not busy now.”
Travis chuckled. He undressed, folded his clothes and set them on the table beside the window.
I wasn’t as patient. But I was still sleepy from my interrupted nap, so I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed beside her. She rolled over and kissed me on the forehead.
“Take your clothes off,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I, reluctantly, pulled myself off the bed. While I undressed, Travis slipped into the bed. He lay on his back, hands locked behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. Gwen nestled her head against his shoulder, wrapped her leg around his and laid her hand on his chest.
I stood there a long moment looking at them. They appeared so peaceful, so content. However, there was a wide empty space beside Gwen. I smiled and slipped into bed, nestled my body against hers, my hand on her shoulder and her head snug under my chin.
Travis and I, we both needed to wake up at five thirty, and we both needed to get our sleep—Gwen, too. So we didn’t do anything more than lie with her, holding her, matching the rise and fall of our chest to hers.
“It feels so good to lie with you,” I murmured.
She murmured something back. I didn’t understand what she said, but I felt the vibrations flow from her chest to mine. I pulled the hair back from her face, nestled my mouth against the back of her neck and gave her a kiss. “Good night.”
In the morning, we slipped out of bed quietly, before she woke, and we were gone.
I saw Alexa again later that week—the last time I’d probably see her before we were shipped out. My relationship with Gwen had really brought us closer. I had so much I knew I could learn from Alexa and her experiences. I had many questions for her, but mostly I just knew that I should listen. I knew enough to know that I didn’t know much.
We went for dinner on the pier and then we took a walk along the beach. It was a cool enough evening that there weren’t many people out, but it wasn’t cold enough to be uncomfortable. Alexa didn’t see it that way. She shivered, and I gave her my jacket.
She got me up to date on what was going on with Mom and Dad. I had very little contact with Mom and much less with Dad. Alexa encouraged me to reach out to them. “Mom worries about you,” she said. “It would mean so much to her if you reached out before you left.”
I put my arm around her and we walked along the beach in silence. I knew she was right. But I doubted I would act on her encouragement; I had my own worries to deal with, and those of Gwen. Besides, what could I say to them? I couldn’t tell them about Gwen, and she was the most important thing in my life now. I couldn’t tell them about the deployment, that would only make them worry.
Without anything to say to them, it made it difficult for me to reach out. We’d never been close, really. And these last few years we’d become even less so.
“I don’t have anything to say to them,” I said. “We’re strangers.”
“They’re your parents, and they love you.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“I hope so.”
When we walked back to her car, I mustered up the courage to ask her the question that had been burning in me for some time now.
“Alexa?”
“Axel.”
“There’s this thing I wanted to ask you about.”
“Ask away.”
“It’s this thing; it’s like a game we play,” I started timidly.
“You and the squad?”
“And Gwen.” I cleared my throat. “We treat her like she’s our property.”
Alexa slowed down and looked at me with wide eyes.
“We don’t treat her like she’s our property,” I said defensively. “It’s more like the way we talk; it’s like a game.”
Alexa didn’t say anything, so I continued.
“I don’t know, at first it was fun; it was funny.” I rubbed my chin. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say. I knew, though, that I was uncomfortable and that I had a hard time finding the words to express why. “But I know she’s not my property. I respect her. I care about her. But—”