Valentine’s Day

Word Count: 784

Valentine’s Day

         With a deep breath Jenelle stepped back from the mirror inspecting the finished product of her hour long stay in the bathroom. Painstakingly placed bobby pins push Jenelle’s bangs into a stylish poof, but it was the simple black scrunchy  that drew her long black locks over her left shoulder that finished the look. Having worn make-up for so many years she hardly had to think about applying it. Her full cheeks had a lovely pink tone, a dark eye shadow with black mascara brought her hazel eyes to life, and with the lightest use of lip gloss her full lips looked smooth and colorful. This had been the exact way she had worn both; one year ago to date. Granted she certainly did not look this well put together at the time they had met.

         Thinking about him threw her mind from that shabby little bathroom to the hazily remembered morning at that run down diner by the bay. She looked the part of a girl who’d spent a wild night drinking till morning. The simple fact that it happened to be a, Saturday Valentine morning meant nothing, to a young foolish Jenelle. All she wanted was for that burned coffee to take the horrible dizzy feeling away. At the diner with her was her go to group of crazy loose girlfriends that were always willing to help Jenelle find the next great party. Jenelle had ordered a cheese omelet but could not bring herself to do more than stare sickenly at it. Propping her head on her hand Jenelle only continued to stare at her food while her friends loudly chatted around her.

         Jenelle lifted her eyes from her breakfast and while sipping from her coffee allowed herself to glance around the diner at the other patrons. Though the diner was sparse its main occupants consisted of plaid wearing fisherman, and grumpy old couples. However, it was the odd table filled with four big marines, which captured Jenelle’s attention. Looking back Jenelle cannot recall all but the one dark headed jarhead and he was staring right at her. Their eyes locked only for a brief moment; embarrassment rushing over Jenelle, she whipped her eyes away, why was she embarrassed he was the one staring.

         Rising from her seat Jenelle quickly collected her belongings, and while excusing herself from her friends; she rushed for the door. The door’s little bell only had time to ring once behind Jenelle before it swung back open.

“Excess me,” his voice was deep and raspy, but had a very sweet tone. Jenelle turned to face him, the dark headed jarhead. He was tall and very well-muscled, well his thin lips and sharp nose did not help his plain features; his clear blue eyes screamed at Jenelle.

“My name is Wyatt. I’m sorry that I was staring and I’m terribly humiliated that you caught me.”

“It is rude to stare,” Her tone biting.

“Yes, and I am very sorry.”

“Well, all is forgiven,” Jenelle turned from him. He gently placed his hand on her arm. Turning her back to him,

“Please, tell me your name. I can tell there is a very beautiful girl and a woman with a story to tell in there.”

“Do you make it a practice to be so rude? I thought military men were more respectful.”

“I know I’m pushing boundaries, but am I truly being rude?”

“Yes,” Jenelle snapped at him but fallowed quickly with her name.

         The fallowing days Jenelle and Wyatt spent all their time together; a few short months later they quietly eloped. He was being transferred to some base on the east coast. Jenelle by that point could not nor would not part with him. Neither family agreed with their decision, however, they cared little for much but each other. Jenelle and Wyatt had only been at the base for a short while when Wyatt was deployed to Iraq. Leaving Jenelle completely alone and in a strange place; Wyatt wrote often and called at every opportunity; she counted the days till his return.

.......

         Jenelle’s reflection remained the same but appeared duller in the glossy grey of the tombstone. It read: Wyatt James Oldenburg; March 3, 1977 to October 10, 2003; Loving husband, son, and brother; Proudly served his country for eight years. Wyatt’s family had helped Jenelle move to his home town so she could remain near him. Jenelle visited often, keeping Wyatt’s grave site tidy and freshly flowered, but today was unique; Valentine’s Day, their one year anniversary. Tears flooded Jenelle’s eyes pouring down her face; Jenelle placed red roses at the foot of Wyatt’s headstone. Picturing his face Jenelle sobbed into her hands.