All Things Visible and Invisible

By P.C. Donan

Lieutenant Nick Bayan meets Julie Earharth at a party and instantly falls in love with her. A few months later they marry and she gets pregnant. He deploys to Afghanistan where things did not go so well during his first mission. He goes home for the birth of his child and his nightmare begins to surface. When he returns to Afghanistan to finish his deployment, he begins to fall apart, consumed, and haunted by what he did. He comes home a broken man searching for salvation, redemption, and love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483511757

Book preview

Tamara

CHAPTER 1

The first time I saw you, or was it the first time you saw me - it does not really matter - I knew you were going to be my wife. There are moments when time seems to stands still, and seeing you for the first time was one of those moments, a rare glimpse into the interweaving of time, space, and love. You, my dear Julie, are my salvation.

When my memories fade, I know you will be there to stitch together the beautiful moments that are still etched in my molecular memory. When passages of pain are best forgotten, but could not be, you, my dear future wife, will keep me from being unglued.

There was no quantum leaping from one space to another, just the classic transmission of light and thought, a certain movement of the eye, the contact, the breakaway, back to the glance, and that certain smile in that crowded room, warped by time and space, in the winter of 2005, when I fell in love with you. But, first, I had to fold the distance between us.

I followed you as you walked toward the host. You gave your hips an extra subtle sway to the left and to the right, to the left and to the right, and I stared at your bottom's rhythmic swinging. The only time I looked up was when you glanced at me and our eyes locked again. You knew as well that the attraction was there.

I followed you because your eyes and hips said so. You will be my wife, but I could not tell you that yet. You will get to know me. You will fall in love with me. I will ask you to marry me. I have patience. You will say yes.

I have to fill in the space. Five feet. I am right behind you. A waft of Coco Chanel lures me in closer. Four feet. I curved in to face you and the host and she introduced us. I moved in to shake your hand.

Three.

Two.

One.

Contact.

I shook your hand and held it longer than normal and you did the same and you smiled and I smiled and we stayed there standing while the music played. The crowd moved to the music and their chatter became white noise. At some point the host disappeared, vanished, sensing she was not needed anymore. It was a hypnotic trance that sped time around us. We locked the world out. Your voice, your words, your eyes and eye lashes, and that thing that you do with your face, you lips, your nose, and the thousand and one ways you moved your facial muscles, the bounce of your brown hair and the sultry movement of your neck contributed to a beautiful time warp. No time machine could ever bring so much pleasure.

CHAPTER 2

And so it began. First a Friday night date then a Friday and Saturday then a whole weekend. The winter's cold wind never stopped me from seeing you; just to be with you, just to walk together in Pike's Place Market, just to see you touch the monkfish, just to listen to you, just to hold your hand and feel its warmth, just to look at you as we drink coffee at Starbucks.

You always like to sit facing the door to watch people come in and out: adults, sometimes walking in alone, sometimes one holding a Bible and another listening; people conducting commerce; people who are lonely, wanting something warm to hold; sometimes women with children. You always notice the women with children; although you never told me you want children, your voice said you did.

Oh how cute. They have matching outfits.

You looked at the mother and children. I looked at you and I knew you are falling for me.

Don't you think so, Nick?

They are, I said, though I have no interest in others' children, just the ones I will have with you.

I love you, Julie said.

You lost your subtlety. There are no more insinuations. You said it without pause or hesitation, but with certainty and absolute truth. From across the table, you reached for my hands and mine met yours in the middle of the round table.

I love you too. I've loved you the first time I saw you.

With that, our lips met.

And then there were telephone calls seven days a week. You began to worry about our future because of what I do. You knew I was a lieutenant in the infantry, but I suppose love makes people worry, especially when one hopes to spend a lifetime together.

We kept moving forward through spring, walking past blooms and green buds of once dormant plants. At the end of the day, when the warmth of the sun was gone, we replaced it with the warmth of the fireplace as we sat drinking wine, watching a movie, your hand on my lap, my hand around your shoulder, my fingers barely touching your breast, and, often, I rested my nose against your head, inhaling your scent.

One night we went to dinner. You looked radiant, lovely, graced by an ethereal presence. Your black dress cut a deep V in the middle of your chest and your milky white breasts pushed up in a rhythmic upheaval every time you breathed in, gloriously held back by a black-lace brassiere that played peek-a-boo. The necklace you wore just became a distraction tothe beautiful mounds of God's creation. The red shawl over your shoulders served as a soft sentinel, protecting you from my lustful gaze.

I tried not to look down and I focused on your face and your emerald green eyes. I managed to do so for a few minutes then your fingers started playing with your necklace and I lost my focus.

You look lovely.

Thank you.

The waiter came and asked what we would like to drink.

A glass of your house wine, please.

Same, I said.

He bowed his head slightly and walked away.

What are you having? she asked.

Not quite sure yet.

My eyes lingered on the steak section of the menu. "I'm debating between the rib eye and filet mignon.