A Summer Sunday in Savannah

Mike changed into casual attire quickly and returned to the living room to join Vanessa.

"I was serious! Bring the uniform back out here and tell me what it all means."

He did so while almost dismissing the importance of the awards he had received with a litany of self-deprecating and humorous comments.

"You are far too modest; it would appear that you are a legitimate war hero."

"Anyone who serves in combat, does their job and come home to talk about it is a war hero in my book....not forgetting those who do more than their job and don't come home."

"I know you are being modest, Mike. My real point is that it adds credibility to your story. As they say, you've, 'been there and done that and have the tee shirt to prove it'. It's really mom's area of expertise but the inside of the back cover leaf will include a brief bio. You're not some hack journalist contriving a story about life in war based purely on observation and, all too often, personal prejudice. You're the real deal. Believe it or not, a lot of potential book buyers will read that bio before they turn a page. You'll have to do interviews...help sell the book. You'll be asked about your own experiences. You need to be thinking about how you'll deal with those questions. Modesty is a virtue; you have an easy style and good looks which will play well on the book circuit. You don't come across as stiff or, dare I say, 'too Army' but this is a book about heroism and the lack of it in some cases. Give some thought to how you can give the viewer and potential reader an anecdotal feel for what you experienced."

"Where do we need to start?" Mike inquired.

"I need to understand some motivations and voice issues; I don't think this will take as long as it often does. Once I understand a given character a little better we can move on fairly rapidly."

"Fairly rapidly" ended up lasting for the next three hours. In the end Vanessa was parsimonious with her recommended changes. Mike accepted the majority of them without angst. They tussled on a couple of issues; Vanessa gave in to her author.

"Okay, so let's get this to your typist and make the changes?"

"I'm the typist; the word processor is at my office. I should have time during the day tomorrow to do the edits and print off copies of the changed pages. I hope the family wasn't expecting you for dinner?"

"No, I told them not to expect me. On the other hand I definitely could eat. Anything here we could whip up?"

"Not really; I always dump the fridge before I leave town and haven't had time to shop for groceries."

"I love seafood but a big juicy steak would certainly make me happy."

"I know just the place; it's very casual without a lot of fanfare but the steaks are quite exceptional."

Throughout dinner Mike found it increasingly impossible not to stare at Vanessa. He loved watching her eat; she was certainly not a slob but she enjoyed a good meal and for him, watching her consume twenty-some ounces of Porterhouse was an almost sensual experience.

"What are you staring at Army man?" She said, making no attempt to hide the flirtation.

"I've never enjoyed watching anyone eat as much as I'm enjoying watching you."

"What, a woman isn't supposed to enjoy a great piece of prime dry-aged beef?"

"It's the 'Southern Lady' syndrome. Someone told most of the women I've met in this town that eating consists of pushing good food around a plate and eating almost none of it. It drives me nuts."

"And have your courted a number of the young ladies whose ancestors came over on 'The Good Ship Anne'?"

"Dated sparingly, courted not so much."

"You're not one of those confirmed bachelors are you?"

"Hardly! 'Just haven't had much time for serious romantic pursuits. How about you?"

"Oh, marriage, children and the whole nine yards is definitely in my future...sooner rather than later, I hope. The Baker-Simms women all get married and have kids---even Virginia. They haven't always tended to stay married and I'd like to avoid that bit of family heritage."

"No legacy of divorce on this side; I intend to get married and stay that way until 'death do us part'. Any clue as to the cause of the ultimate matrimonial failures among the Baker-Simms clan?"

"We're all strong, self sufficient, opinionated women. We're all bright and well-educated and work in professions wherein we are surrounded by and I suppose attracted to 'men of letters'---bright, interesting, even fascinating men. Unfortunately while the literary world attracts strong women it also seems to attract weak men...men with issues...men who don't stand the test of time or the rigors of a real relationship. Too many are poseurs, adopting the persona of a favorite character. When you 'peel the onion' so to speak the inherent weaknesses shines though. Either the Baker-Simms woman grows tired of the tedium of a sniveling, superficial, insecure mate or the male in question decides he can't deal with it anymore and runs for the exit. You're not one of those men...are you Mike?"

"What do you think, Vanessa?"

"After knowing you for a little over twenty-four hours my instincts say no, not remotely. Your female characters, sparse as they are in a story from a combat zone have strength and character. Even more important your male protagonists have genuine affection and respect for their 'women folk'. I'm pretty convinced you're the real deal from the machismo perspective...more than adequate testosterone levels. Yet you don't come off as macho; you listen. No posturing. You pay attention. You don't leer or undress a woman with your eyes---always the gentleman---yet...and it is those damned eyes...you wordlessly show your appreciation for who a woman is...what she hides from view...what she will only share with that special man...her man...the one...the only one...the one she'll spend the rest of her life with. How am I doing on the seduction meter, Mike?"

"You had me yesterday afternoon when you thanked me for my service and gave me a hug."

"Good...same here! I'm really way out in uncharted territory here. We should get to know each other, date, discuss each others' core values, make out with increasing intimacy and ultimately sleep together after a suitable period of mutual exploration. I'm not remotely a slut and you need to know how completely out of character this is for me but we're both done with our steaks and I don't need desert or coffee...any chance we could just drive back to your place, get naked and see how things work out on the carnal level? Baker-Simms women tend to be extremely forward and aggressively go after what they desire and right this minute you are the only thing in the world I want."

"Yeah, that might just work. It's not the way I planned it but 'when in Rome'..."

"Or Savannah?"

"Exactly!"

Magic? Sublime? One of those unique 'felt the earth move' first couplings? All that and more. At times incredibly tender and loving; often playful and teasing and in the end all of that coupled with a level of pure passion...excitement...lust and animalistic abandon. As the two new found lovers paused to renew in the hours between midnight and sunrise, Mike spoke first.

"I guess it's a little late to call your mom and tell her you're running a little late?"

Vanessa slapped him playfully. "I'm certainly past the age of majority; more important, my mother knows me better than anyone in the world. She saw the signs yesterday. Aunt Ginny will have some disapproving words but that's neither here nor there. My grandmother will just grin knowingly. So, what do you think Mike? I'm talking way past, 'was it good for you' crap. What are our chances?"

"I drove home last night picturing you and I raising kids...growing old together. I can't remember ever doing that before. When I first saw you...you took my breath away...I couldn't take my eyes off you...still can't, particularly since you're an incredibly beautiful and completely naked woman now nestled in my arms. This just feels right---the astounding sex aside---I'd be a fool to screw this up. The chemistry is there...can't deny that...I'm a little scared...way out on my own limb here."

"Me too, big fella', me too. "Better to have loved and lost'? God I've never done anything like that before...telling a man to take me home and fuck me! It made me feel like a drug addict and terribly slutty. For the record the main event surpassed my wildest expectations. Oh damn!"

"You weren't just feeding me a line to get in my pants, were you young lady?"

"I don't really even know you...but then I've read your words and I feel like I've known you my whole life. I know you're not like any man I've ever known...which excites me beyond belief...and scares me a little. I feel so damn safe here with you. Little Miss Independent who was raised never to 'need a man' and I need you so much it hurts. I'm not a star when it comes to relationships with men. My gut tells me this is pretty damn real and unless we're both complete idiots it's all upside. Risky...true...but...oh, Christ! The pot at the end of this rainbow is too precious to pass up. Let's go for it!"

"I'm thinking along the same lines. On a more serious note, you insatiable woman, unlike you, I do have to get up for work in less than three hours. And...oh shit! My boss wants to invite you and the whole group to dinner at his house...Wednesday night, day after tomorrow. 'See any problem with that?"

"We may have to drug Aunt Ginny."

"The Colonel didn't just fall off the watermelon truck; rest assured he can deal with Virginia."

"So you need to sleep now?"

"Sorta, kinda."

"Can I stay right here in your arms?"

"I was hoping you would."

Mike was glad he awoke a few minutes early in the morning as Vanessa chose to join him in the shower. Even at that he slipped out the door a few minutes later than normal. Fortunately the headquarters was half empty and the boss was out for the day. With the majority of the staff and the Commanding General on leave there weren't any crises to deal with. Mike attended to the edits on the word processor and printed off the few changed pages making copies to insert in the other manuscripts. Just before 1600 he sent his secretary home and checked in with the ranking officer in the building, a relatively junior lieutenant colonel.

"Sir the night duty officer has arrived and I'd like to suggest we close up shop; what do you think?"

"Works for me Mike! Why don't you take that to the other side of the hall and I'll spread the word on this side."

Mike arrived home a half an hour later, disappointed but not surprised that Vanessa was no longer there. He was beat; he laid down for a quick nap and woke up two hours later when the phone rang. It was the Colonel, checking up on the day's events and confirming the dinner invitation. Twenty minutes later as he was exiting the shower the phone rang a second time. It was the woman who was quickly stealing his heart.

"I didn't call earlier because I sensed you might want to catch a cat nap. The Baker-Simms women are hungry and thirsty and have selected a local eatery which I suspect is a tourist trap with abysmal food." Vanessa told him their choice. "How about if we swing by and pick you up in about twenty minutes?"

"The twenty minutes will work; the Robert Louis Stevenson place is interesting to visit but not high on my list of great dining establishments. Did you consider..." He asked, naming a famous local restaurant noted for its wonderful ambiance and incredible fare.

"We couldn't get a table for five on a weeknight in the middle of the summer!"

"Let me give it a try; it's one of the Colonel and Angie's favorites and we often use it to entertain visiting VIPs. If not, I have some other thoughts. It's slightly dressy...no shorts and I'll need a collar and a jacket. 'See you soon, love."

Mike was instantly successful in getting one of the best tables at the restaurant in question. He told the truth; special friends from out of town. The manager acted as if he actually knew Vanessa's grandmother---the literary critic---by name but it occurred to Mike that he might just have been trying to impress him with his worldliness.

The ladies arrived on schedule and sandwiched Mike into the back seat of the rental between Vanessa and her mother. They arrived almost thirty minutes later and were greeted by the obsequious and somewhat affected 'concierge' as he preferred to be called. To Mike's astonishment the man did in fact know who Cornelia was, produced a scrap book of damn near every book review she had ever written and begged her to autograph it which she did.

"So if I'd made the call for reservations and identified myself..."

"Apparently, Cornelia. I thought he was just blowing smoke but you definitely seem to have a following and a major fan! We dine here often with visiting VIPs but I have to say that reception exceeded any I can recall."

The dinner at the establishment in question never disappointed and the service, while always impeccable, was even more personal. Victoria wanted to talk business. She had a book to publish and a promotional campaign to develop. Mike had lots of questions and received the appropriate answers.

"So, Victoria, as I understand this, you and I need to formalize this relationship? I need to sign something?"

"A simple letter of intent to allow us to act as your agent and publisher will suffice for the moment. You need to decide how you want to be compensated; we're not big on advances but in view of the quality of the work..."

"'Don't need nor desire an advance. The lawyer in me says I need to understand the percentages...what's reasonable and customary. I did a little research in that area a while back but I'm really a babe in the woods when it comes to the financials."

Mike was being modest as was his custom. When Victoria laid out the financial splits he immediately realized that he was receiving, "favorite son" status, unusual for a first time author. An expectation of works to follow, he wondered or an expectation that if not a son he might well be a potential son-in-law?

"I can get the office to type it up and overnight it down here. I insist that you have an attorney review it...one with a background in publishing contracts."

"The Colonel is better connected here than I am; he was stationed here years ago and fell in love with the place. That's why he decided to retire here. He bought the house that you will hopefully see on Wednesday evening 'way back when' for a song and is restoring it. He published several works---not fiction but more in the line of technical policy pieces---I'm sure he can steer me in the right direction."

"Your Colonel is a writer?" Virginia asked verging on incredulity.

"My Colonel quite probably would have chosen your line of work had a war not intervened. He's planning to teach part time at a local university when he retires in a few months. He's a graduate of my alma mater, holds two masters degrees---Columbia and Stanford---a Doctorate from the Kennedy School of Business and a second PhD from George Washington in International Affairs. He recently turned down an offer to work for the current National Security Advisor as his deputy."

"Why?"

"He differs with the current administration when it comes to foreign policy and he hates politics and politicians. He's been an outspoken albeit polite critic of U.S policy vis-a-vis war for at least a decade; it's why he's retiring without receiving a star---making General Officer. Virginia, he's probably as unfavorably disposed to this war we now have as you are, just for different reasons. He's fought and commanded troops in three named wars and numerous skirmishes. He's not, 'anti-war' but nor is he a strong proponent of armed response as a first option nor is he pleased with how this conflict is being waged. The difference, Virginia, with all due respect, is that he has been there; he has watched men die in battle. He's 'done the deed' not simply read about it."

"Why did he make a career of the Army?"

"You should ask him that question. I suspect it's a combination of things, some esoteric like duty, honor and country, others more definitive. The camaraderie of the 'military family' means a lot to him. The early recognition that he had the warrior spirit and was good at it---and saved a hell of a lot of young lives as a result certainly comes to mind. He's a very special man and I love him as if he were my own father. He saved my life---not in a single act but in the kind of combat zone mentoring that you just can't find in the manuals. I had the privilege of returning the favor about a month before he came home. That anecdote is pretty factual in my book."

"That chapter...I recall it distinctly...that was you...and him?"

"Virtually verbatim and since it was also 'his story' I asked him to help me fill in the gaps. I will dedicate the book to him without question...as well as to the men under my command who didn't come home. He put me in for the Medal of Honor; officers almost never win that one...at least not living ones. It was downgraded to a Silver Star. A moot point, really; rescuing a man I admired and cared for was all the reward I ever desired."

The table grew silent. Mike had not intended to inject the degree of seriousness which had come over the group. He looked at Vanessa; she was smiling softly. He knew in that instant that he was madly in love with her. He had no way of knowing that she had just come to the same conclusion about Mike Carson.

"Enough of this! Let's drink a toast to new, special friends and new possibilities and successes!" The table quickly reverted to a more jovial and relaxed tone.

No one batted an eyelash when they arrived back at Mike's place and Vanessa exited the car with him. The other Baker-Simms ladies politely declined the invitation to come in for a nightcap. The two were in each others arms before the car pulled out of view. They were certainly naked and entwined well before the rest of the family arrived back at their beach house rental.

"It does occur to me that I know much less about you than you do about me." Mike observed in the wee hours. "I don't even know where you live!"

"Atlanta."

"That's not very far away; I guess I assumed you lived up North...where the rest of your family is from."

"Mike whether or not I ultimately choose to assume mom's role in her publishing enterprise, I knew I needed to learn the business away from the huge shadows of my mother and grandmother. I work for a relatively new publishing concern but one that is growing handsomely and is making significant inroads on the old houses by distributing through their own retail outlets. Hardly anyone I work with knows of my 'legacy' and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Is there any animosity between your employer and your mom's enterprise?"

"Not in the least! Our forte is mass market printing and distribution; hers is finding good literature and bringing it successfully to market. In a real sense we often 'out source' what mom's firm does to her company. It's a symbiotic relationship...'win-win' all the way."

"Any chance that my novel will come off of your presses?"

"It certainly would fit our business model but you are mom's author and thus it's her call. I have no financial incentive either way but I do believe we could do well by you."

"You already have." Mike said, again exploring Vanessa's slippery folds and moving his mouth along her firm young body.

"Don't you have to go to work in the morning?"

"It's not that late."

"A very good answer." Vanessa replied, nipping him playfully and aggressively taking charge of the situation. She had a fleeting thought about her past sexual past experiences. Being the aggressor...taking charge...being on top...telling a man what she wanted...needed. In her experience some men needed a woman to 'direct the action' and then afterwards seemed insulted or even demeaned that she had done so. Others were so pitifully ignorant that taking charge was the only assurance that either participant would enjoy a satisfactory experience.