Duty: A Secret Baby Romance by Lauren Landish Page B

Lindsey's told me that I don't need to pay for anything, but still, the only big purchase I've made in the past few months is in my duffel bag that has all my uniforms for Airborne School. After this weekend, I'm going to fly back home to Michigan for a few days to see my parents before the Army pays for my trip down to Georgia. When I get back to West Point, I’ll be a squad leader, and I’ll have two months of pay sitting around with nothing to spend it on except Lindsey.
    Lindsey and I check in, and our room is up on the third floor, just high enough that I can see the hints of some of the stuff in the distance. “So what would you like to do?” I ask, setting my bag down. “It's a bit early for dinner.”
    “How about Central Park?” Lindsey asks. “It's only a half-mile away, not that bad of a walk. I've never been to the Met. You up for some art?”
    We head out, getting to the museum just as a big clock nearby rings out five o'clock. “Glad we came on a Saturday then,” Lindsey remarks as we look at the hours of operation. “We've still got hours to enjoy it.”
    As we wind our way through the collections, I'm caught breathless time and time again as we encounter works of artwork that stun us both, leaving us amazed. “I've never seen anything so beautiful,” Lindsey whispers as we look at an authentic Ming vase from China. “Have you?”
    “I've seen something nearly every day for the past few months that beats it,” I tell her, reaching up and stroking her hair. Lindsey blushes and blinks before taking a deep breath, looking at me.
    “Aaron,” she whispers, touching my cheek. There's pain and something else in her eyes, and I’m confused. “Aaron . . . I'm so sorry.”
    “Why?” I ask, confused. “I know this isn't the ideal time, but what’s the problem? Aren’t we in lo—”
    “No,” Lindsey half-strangles, putting her fingers on my lips. “No, don't say it. This is hard enough as it is.”
    Lindsey turns and leaves the museum, leaving me stunned for a moment. I watch her nearly run from the room before I follow, finally catching up with her on the walkway outside, the one that leads deeper to Central Park. She's crying, but I just don’t understand why. I step in front of her and wrap my arms around her, trying to offer what comfort I can.
    “Lindsey,” I whisper in her ear as she cries, “I don't know what's wrong. I don't know why you're sad. This is the best weekend I've had in months. What’s bothering you?”
    Lindsey sniffles and wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “It hurts, Aaron. I didn't say anything because it hurts too much.”
    “What does?” I ask, stroking her golden hair. “That we're going to be apart for the summer? It’ll be okay. It’s what, eight, nine weeks at most? That first chance we get to spend some time together, we're probably going to have to be careful we don't start making out in the middle of Buff Soldier Field.”
    Lindsey shakes her head, stepping back. “There won't be eight or nine weeks from now, Aaron. This . . . this weekend is it for us.”
    “What do you mean?” I ask, even more confused. “Are you . . . what happened?”
    Lindsey wipes at her eyes and touches her jeans pocket. “You're going to Benning . . . and yesterday, my orders came in. Come my June promotion, the Army's decided that there are too many Specialists in the S-1 shop. I'm being sent to Fort Lewis, Washington.”
    I swallow, understanding. Transferred across the country, to a real unit. No more bike rides together, no more walks, nothing. “But . . . we can do a long-distance thing, can't we?”
    “How?” Lindsey asks, crying and smiling in agony at the same time. “How am I supposed to be able to write you? You know the damn Goldcoats read your email. They snoop the system all the time. They keep you guys on a tight leash, Aaron. We've been pushing our luck as it is. So, we can't see each other. We can't talk.”
    “But . . .” I whisper,