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first tour he went on after we met.
    It was two years ago when I went to the party with Julianna.   My best friend and the only other person who loved horses as much as I did; she was into cowboys and loved to drink and party with them.   Some of her friends from down in Redmond were having a bonfire party for someone’s birthday and we were invited.
    It was on the edge of town, in someone’s backyard.   The fire was huge, the music loud, and the alcohol plentiful.   And there were a good fifty people in attendance.
    I’m not a people person, and the scene was overwhelming.   I hung on the outskirts, beer in hand, but for the most part, undrunk.  
    “I thought birthday parties stopped after you turned ten,” a voice behind me said.   I turned to see a guy standing behind me, watching the scene.   He had a beer in his hand as well, but his too was mostly still full.   He was fairly tall, around six feet.   His hair was sandy, styled forward but windswept.   But it was his eyes that grabbed me.   Intense and blue through the dim evening light.
    “Looks like someone really likes attention still,” I said as he walked up to my side.  
    “Not really, but his buddies like any excuse to party,” he said, his expression slightly embarrassed.
    “This is your party?” I said, trying to not give him a smirk.   “How old are you now?”
    He chuckled and shook his head.   “I’m twenty-five today.”   He took a small drink.   “But I just got home on leave, so they wanted to do a double celebration.”
    I stiffened slightly, instantly recognizing the military cut hair and seeing the chain of dog tags around his neck that disappeared into his shirt.   The military life isn’t an easy one, and no one knows it better than a “military brat.”
    “How long you home?” I asked.
    “Six weeks,” he said with the most charming smile I’d ever seen.   “By the way, I’m Cal Richards.”
    Six weeks later, Cal Richards and I were in love, deep and hard.   I said I’d wait for him while he was on his next tour.
    And I did.   He came home nine months later for another six weeks.  
    Right in the middle of that, Cal asked me to marry him.   I said yes.
    He went on what was supposed to be his last tour.   Nine more months and then he’d stay home with me.   We’d spend our summer planning the wedding, get married, and he’d stay for forever and be my husband.
    But just three months into that tour, I got the call.
    I trace my finger over his face in the photograph.   Cal was tough and a Marine.   But he was also sweet and kind and so funny.
    I look back out at Lake’s apartment and feel a twinge of jealousy.   He’d gotten to spend time with Cal in those last days.   He’d gotten to laugh and joke with him, while I was here, missing Cal like crazy.
    My heart aches.
    “Riley, have you invited Lake to dinner yet?”   Mom’s voice carries up the stairs.
    I look at the clock and realize I’ve just been sitting here for the last fifty minutes.
    I walk down the stairs and the air smells heavenly.   Mom’s had a roast in the crock pot since this morning, and I can tell there are rolls in the oven.   “Dinner in fifteen minutes,” she says without looking at me.   She’s busy with the food.
    My rain boots are well-worn and threatening to leak, but I pull them on and open the back door.   The rain has finished, but the ground is soggy and puddles are everywhere.   The stairs creek as I walk up to the apartment.
    I knock softly on the door and wait.   When no one comes after a minute, I place my hand on the knob and push it open just a bit.
    “Lake?” I call quietly.   No reply.
    I push the door open a bit more and step inside.   I look back toward the bedroom.   As far as I can see, it’s empty.   And the door to the bathroom is open and the light off.
    “Lake?” I call once more.
    A soft snore pulls my eyes to the couch, and there I find him.
    He’s changed into a pair of dry