in his arms
Chapter 26
People lined the streets, more than I had expected for one single soldier returning from war. Anthony and I had determined his name, Benjamin Garcia.
He was a 30-year-old father of two girls, a five and two year old.
Anthony and I stood together in a line that stretched the length of the street. I leaned over the thin rope, and he kept his hands on my hips as he watched with me.
He loved keeping his hands on me. He loved touching me, not for that reason, but because he liked being close to me. But I didn’t have a problem with it, I loved being touched. I loved the tender feeling of his fingers against my bare skin. I used to feel so ugly, so awkward and unworthy when I first started chemo. But Anthony had a way of making me feel so comfortable in my own skin, so beautiful.
He made me feel beautiful.
“This is awesome,” I murmured as I watched a marching band stomp past us and stop just past us in the street. They played upbeat, patriotic songs in honor of the veteran.
A herd of dancers flew past us as well, and they sprawled about in the center. Their bodies moved so flawlessly, and I was envious.
People along the sides that watched all this happen were in hysterics. They screamed and hollered, adrenaline pumping through them with the excitement of the moment.
And after all the commotion had subsided, a black limo slowly pulled down the street, causing the crowds to scream louder, and I watched as Benjamin exited, smiling widely, still dressed in his camouflage. His wife and two girls followed close behind. They lingered by the limo, the mother holding their hands, while Benjamin walked to the end of the street and began greeting all of the people who came to support him. He shook their hands, and I assumed he didn’t know most of these people. He still treated them like close friends.
He arrived at the person beside Anthony and I. His gruff voice said, “Thank you so much. This means everything to me.”
I prepared to have my hand shaken, but instead, his wide eyes just stared at me as soon as they fell on mine. “Hello,” he greeted.
I smiled, reaching for his hand. “Hi. Oh, this is such an honor, to meet you.”
“An honor to meet me?” he repeated. “Why, it’s an honor to meet you.”
I was a little taken aback. “Do you know me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I only smiled, shaking his hand. I was still confused. “Well, you’re an inspiration.”
“You are too,” he told me, pulling me into an embrace. As he hugged me, he told me, “Keep fighting.”
As he backed up, he looked to Anthony. “Why don’t you all go wait with my wife? I want to talk with you further. I mean, if you don’t mind.”
I glanced up at Anthony, and he confirmed, “Of course.”
We introduced ourselves to his wife and his two little girls. After he was finished, he came back over to us, told us about how amazing we were for undergoing what we were at such a young age, and then handed us his phone number. He said whenever we needed anything, just to call.
As Anthony and I made our way back out to the streets to call a cab, we looked the number over.
“Are we really that big of a deal?” I asked him, smiling.
He shrugged, a grin set across his face. “I mean, I guess so.”
& I present to you the worst chapter of 'in his arms.'
I'm in the mood for an Egg McMuffin but I also don't want to get up so I'm slightly conflicted. Hm.
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