Devastatingly in Love

CHAPTER ONE

Forty-one-year-old, Air Force Senior Master Sergeant Jackson Jack Benning stepped into his parents living room in Rancho Cordova and his heart clenched at the crowd surrounding his wife. Not because Tawnya’s Greek ancestry made her stunning even at forty-one. But because his wife of twenty years, a master sergeant in her own right, was dying.

After Tawnya had been placed on permanent medical leave, Jack had taken time off before heading to the United Arab Emirates for a short stint. As a top Combat Control NCO, he rotated with other high-level, non-commissioned officers to keep the pararescue flights prepared in case of emergencies in the Middle East.

But right now, Tawnya was the emergency. The trip from San Antonio back to the Sacramento area was to inform both sets of their parents of her pancreatic cancer.

Jack frowned. Tawnya never wanted to draw attention to herself.

Dr. Joan Hight, Tawnya’s mother, rested her head on her daughter’s shoulder. The pain of the probability of losing her only child showing in her eyes. Her husband, Ron, sat slump-shouldered in the wingback chair off to the side.

Jack’s daughters, Lesley and Tracy, huddled nearby their mother’s feet discussing the childhood pictures of their mom from Joan’s family photo album. And Cory, his fifteen-year-old son, fluffed his mother’s pillow once again. Tawny’s smile at his efforts appeared more of tolerance than encouragement. Was the family tribe smothering her?

After Jack’s mom, Anita, set down a fresh glass of ice tea in front of Tawnya, he waved her closer to the kitchen. Mom, you said you wanted me to pick up some things at the store?

Mom hurried over with a drawn, faded smile. I’ll write it down. You may want to take Cory with you to carry stuff. She lowered her voice. All this fuss about his mom’s condition is depressing for a teenage boy. Look at his eyes. He’s on the verge of falling apart and knowing him, he’d be embarrassed. He needs some fresh scenery and a brief break from Tawnya.

Jack nodded as his mother scurried into the kitchen for the list she kept on the fridge. He ambled closer and nudged his son from behind. Hey, Scoop. Cory looked up at the sound of his nickname, and Jack offered a smile. I’m going to the grocery store to pick up a few things for your nonna. Why don’t you come with me? He turned from Cory to go get the grocery list.

With the list in hand, he returned to the living room. Everyone, Cory and I are headed to the grocery store. Does anyone need anything not on the list? His eyes landed on his lover and a lump rose in his throat. Anything special, Babe?

When her exotic eyes rose and met his, they drew him into their depths and danced with love. No, but thanks for the offer. You guys enjoy the fresh air. She winked and mouthed, I love you and thank you. Tawny’s smile weakened his knees.

He nodded knowing their hearts were still in sync. Let’s go, Cory.

On the drive to the store, Cory stared out the side window.

Hey, Cory, did Grapaw Tug show you any more tricks for fielding at your shortstop position? I know when he played, he had certain things that helped him with accuracy in fielding and throwing. He snickered. I never could get above mediocre at fielding a baseball and was horrible with a bat.

Yeah, he showed me a few things and promised when he got home from work this evening that he would show me some more.

The grocery store on Labor Day weekend overflowed with Sunday afternoon shoppers.

Dad, look at that guy down the aisle. His pants are about to fall off. Cory dropped the Cheerios and the Raisin Bran into the cart alongside the cake mix and milk.

Jack tucked his head and forced his lips tight to stifle his sputter. I guess that’s the style around here. He pointed down the aisle to the paper towels.

Yeah, I heard it’s called sagging. How do they walk much less run? Cory waggled his head, his light-brown hair—worn high and tight—displaying a discipline absent in the shaggy mane of the youth they assessed. Can we get some sodas?

Sure.

They finished their list and went to check out.

After Jack swiped his debit card, a woman his age with wheat-blonde hair walked in—and with her came a flood of volatile memories. Ragged breaths released as his eyes tracked her over to a grocery cart and down the first aisle. Cheyanne. It had been twenty-two years.

Bagging their purchases, Cory held out his hand. Hey, Dad. Can you pass down the bread? It will fit in with the chips.

Jack clenched his teeth, snatched up the loaf, and handed it to Cory.

When Cory placed the last grocery bag into the cart, Jack took the receipt from the cashier. As he stepped to the exit, he took another glance toward the aisle she’d entered.

Her head turned and their eyes met.

Cory paused at the door. Is something wrong, Dad? Did we forget something?

No, just thinking about my early days here in Rancho. Once more, the bitterness of betrayal left a bad taste in his mouth.

CHAPTER TWO

Cheyanne Rylie Dunning ran her fingers over the small ornaments on the tiny Christmas tree that sat on Daniel’s bedroom desk and smiled. What a special gift he had been to her. How hard he’d worked at his studies. In a few months she would watch him walk across the stage to receive his Bachelor of Arts degree in Criminal Justice at a university down in Los Angeles. He would then move on to graduate work.

At forty, she’d pulled many a graveyard shift in the South Lake Tahoe emergency room to get him to this point. What amazed her was that her son understood her sacrifice. And Daniel had showed his appreciation by achieving the grades necessary to get a full-ride academic scholarship to ease his mother’s financial burden.

Worth it? It had all been worth it.

Cheyanne walked out of his room and went into her own bedroom. Kneeling in front of her open closet, she spun the combination on the safe hidden inside. It held all their legal documents—their birth certificates, her nursing paperwork, and two boxes she’d never told anyone about. She opened the larger one and pulled out the letter it contained. Her emotions splintered as the envelope touched more than her fingertips. Her mind and heart returned to the circumstances of Daniel’s birth and the pain surrounding it. The sadness on Jack’s face when their eyes had met briefly that Labor Day weekend at the store had pierced her heart. She sank down onto her bed and let the tears flow.

Mom?

Cheyanne gasped and clutched the letter to her chest. Daniel, you startled me.

Daniel entered her bedroom, then stopped and stared. With a slight touch of sternness in his voice, he asked, Mom, what’s with the letter?

Until now, Cheyanne had kept the story of his birth hidden from Daniel. He had never pressed the issue. With his question, now was the time.

How do you tell a young man who had grown up without a father that his biological father’s reputation stunk? Thankfully, her son took after her dark-haired father in looks and build, and not tall and blond like his father. At least she didn’t have to be reminded of that slug, Ryan every time she looked at her son.

Okay, I’ll tell you. She sighed as the ache came despite the years gone by. I agree. It’s time to share the whole account with you. She shifted her position on the edge of the bed and patted it. It’s a long story and I hope it will explain most of my decisions about our lives. You can ask any questions after I finish.

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. Mom, before we start do you need some water, tea, or a quick break?

I’m fine. Thank you for asking. Her heart warmed at his concern. They’d always been close. In the last few years, he’d been extra sensitive to her feelings and needs. I dated a wonderful Christian young man in high school. The kind of boy any mother would love to have as her own son—like you—or in a future son-in-law. She smoothed down his hair as memories filled her with sadness. His name is Jackson Daniel Benning. No, he is not your dad. He planned his future responsibly, and he treated me with great respect. Cheyanne brought her fingertips up to cover her lower lip’s quiver.

Daniel reached over and patted her shoulder.

Cheyanne blew out a breath. Jack’s plans included me. He asked me to marry him, and I accepted. We pledged our fidelity to one another for life. Daniel, I promised Jack and God that I would stay a virgin until I married. He left for the Air Force shortly after high school and I prepared to enter nursing school. We planned our wedding after I finished my education and he was stationed at a permanent base.

Daniel raised his hand. Did he die?

"I guess you didn’t hear that I said ‘His name is Jackson Daniel Benning.’ He is very much alive and, last I heard, close to retiring from the service. His career path was pararescue."

Cheyanne had also learned from a former classmate that he’d married and, apparently, had at least a son whom she saw on Labor Day weekend. She prayed continually that he had a wonderful and happy life.

I have not spoken to him since I went to his basic training graduation with his parents. He warned me about some of my supposed friends. I didn’t listen well. The shame of seeing Jack that day twenty-one years ago while at the park pushing Daniel in the stroller crushed her. Hot tears of renewed embarrassment rolled down her cheeks.

Daniel touched her shoulder again. She leaned her cheek into his hand.

At first Cheyanne had only shared what happened that horrible, life changing night with her mother. They’d kept her dad in the dark for months and didn’t tell him the whole story until later. Her unwed pregnancy humiliated her enough. Dad flew into a rage blaming Jack until Cheyanne reminded him that Jack lived almost two thousand miles away at the time of conception. Dad shrunk back from her when she wouldn’t name the father.

I went to my supposed best friend Brandy’s birthday party, where the first of her lies came to light. Her parents were out of town for the weekend. The second lie came knocking on the front door. The lies continued with spiked punch which I unknowingly accepted from Brandy. A shameful warmth washed over her as she revealed the tale to her son. I sipped only half a cup and woke up many hours later half dressed, with Ryan Stoffer, our high school quarterback sleeping next to me, also undressed.

You broke your vow to your boyfriend? The look of disappointment on her son’s face mortified Cheyanne. Despite his response, she needed to get it out.

Brandy hated Jack. She thought he was a dweeb and no fun because he was a Christian. Apparently, she wanted to break us up and did so by putting a date-rape drug into my drink. Cheyanne managed to shove down the constant battle with the anger and hatred, for the umpteenth time.

But Daniel exploded off the bed. What? Your friend drugged you?

Cheyanne clutched her hand to her chest. I’m afraid so. My virginity and any hope of a future with my beloved fiancé died that night when the rape took place. Brandy made sure of it by taking pictures of me that looked like I willingly participated. She walked to her safe, pulled out the ring box inside, then grabbed the envelope that held the pictures sent to her.

Daniel’s mouth hung open. Did you report it?

Only one of the girls admitted to being opposed to what happened and she had been bullied into silence. Cheyanne sighed. The pictures were incriminating and they sent them to Jack. She determined to never let the pictures, that identified the culprit, which Jack sent back to her out of lock and key.

She stared down at the letter she’d dropped on the bed earlier and cringed. Jack’s response had been quick and final. We are finished!

She couldn’t look at her son. I want to warn you that what you are about to see is humiliating for me. It doesn’t show me completely, just my face. However, there is enough circumstantial evidence to inflict destructive results that ended any hope for Jack and me. They said they would tell everyone I wanted it. A few weeks later, I found out about you. She handed Daniel the envelope and the box. She wanted to hide her face from him but chose to attack this head on.

Daniel opened the box and looked at the man’s promise ring with a chain wrapped around it. Then he glanced at the pictures of her and made a sour face.

He placed the box and envelope back on the bed. Standing, he paced the room, scowling. After several passes, he paused in front of her and his face softened. Mom, why didn’t you abort me or send me out for adoption?

Oh, Daniel. You were the innocent one, and you were my child no matter who your father was. You know my stance on a child’s right to life.

Yeah. That was awfully noble of you.

Cheyanne shook her head. Oh, I wasn’t noble. I failed to leave when I heard the first lie by Brandy. I doubled my sin when the boys came and I didn’t go. I didn’t want to be alone with Jack away in Texas, so I stayed. I didn’t want to be a party-pooper like they said my fiancé was. Her shallow, sarcastic laugh crept up without warning. Can you believe that your biological father had the nerve to come up to me in a store and ask me if I wanted to be with him again? I slapped him right there in front of several people.

Daniel spun away and stomped to the door. She could hear his heavy breathing.

Suddenly, he slammed the flat of his hand on the doorframe. He turned, moved back to her, and knelt. Good for you, Mom. Daniel took her hands. Who is he so I can punch him out?

At that moment, Cheyanne was grateful Ryan Stoffer wasn’t around. The murderous look on her son’s face made her stomach knot.

I don’t know where he is because he went back east to play college football. I never heard from him again. I ended all contact with Brandy too. She communicated with me about ten years ago to tell me how sorry she was. I let her know I could never forgive her. She’d never be my friend because she’d broken that trust. Last I heard, she was in an abusive relationship.

Good. She deserves it.

No! Cheyanne brought her hands up to hold his face and stare at him. The Bible says, violence begets violence and ‘vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.’ She reached over, picked up the letter, and placed it into Daniel’s hand. Now you can read it and understand the hurt in Jack’s words. I cry because of the pain he must have experienced at the time due to my weakness of wanting to not be left out of the crowd.

Daniel sat back down on the bed beside her and opened the page with the three simple words. Oh, wow, Mom. That’s pretty direct. He draped his strong arm over her shoulder.

The gesture from her son comforted Cheyanne. Daniel, despite this event, you know that I have never even dated since your conception. Even though Jack doesn’t know the truth, I have never quit loving him.

Why didn’t you go to Jack and tell him what happened?

I was too humiliated and I couldn’t ask him to accept another man’s child.

When Daniel left her room, Cheyanne wept anew for Jack’s anguish at the time. She prayed once more that he would one day forgive her youthful foolishness. Lord Jesus, I know You say to forgive everyone. I know I should but, please don’t ask me to forgive Brandy and Ryan.

CHAPTER THREE

A cool breeze off the Potomac River kept the warm April sun from baking the heads of the mourners. Wisps of white clouds floated above the vast stretch of well-kept headstones at Arlington Cemetery. Jack focused on the flag-draped casket of Master Sergeant Tawnya Sky Benning, his beloved wife and best friend. He had known Tawny for the last twenty-two years and had devoted his life to her for over twenty of those years.

Tawnya chose to be interred at the national cemetery over home at San Antonio’s Lackland A.F.B. because serving her country had been her dream and Arlington became that symbol.

In spite of being at parade rest, Jack stood rigid. His muscles taut as he locked his knees to avoid crumbling to the ground if he so much as relaxed for a moment. A deep shuddering breath challenged him. He couldn’t allow that in front of the children, family, and friends.

The droning voice of the Air Force squadron chaplain lauded Tawny’s immaculate service record and the many citations and awards received throughout her Air Force career as a physical therapist assistant. Tawnya’s mission—fix what was broken.

Despite facing a thankless, endless list of expected end results, Master Sergeant Tawnya Benning had pushed forward. The monotony of the job for her had taken on a different perspective to Jack. Her caring heart and need to do right made her an accomplished person. A swelling pride filled Jack’s heart.

Tawnya’s commanding officer, the mealy-mouthed Major Jorgensen, stepped up to speak. Out of professional obligation, Tawnya had tolerated the man who rode on the backs of his subordinates to advance his own personal agendas.

Jack glanced at his family who’d wanted him to sit with them, front row center. He had apologized and told them he’d explain later his wish to reflect alone. The kids had finally accepted his need to stand off to the side.

Tracy—his thirteen-year-old cuddly, Pooh—sat with her head resting on Tawny’s mother. His daughter was a dead-ringer for his wife with deep, brown hair sweeping across her heart-shaped face of olive complexion. Like Mom’s and Grandma’s, she possessed those eyes you could get lost in, but today they just seemed lost.

Lesley, his stunningly sleek, seventeen-year-old daughter, also the mirror image of Tawny but with Jack’s taller stature, shuddered against her Grandpa Ron in her grief.

Wedged between Grandpa’s other side and Jack’s mother was Cory. On the opposite side of Mom sat the slumped Tug, Jack’s dad.

The solemnity of the front line of mourners sent a shiver up Jack’s spine and a prickly sensation ran across his scalp. He shifted his feet to keep his balance.

Major Jorgensen did his usual and expounded Tawnya’s career in a manner that made him look good. Fortunately, he didn’t do any harm to her exemplary reputation.

Jack shot a quick look at the officer, and to his amazement the man cut it short.

Next up, the man he respected as his spiritual mentor and the pastor of their church, Pastor Agnew. The aging, soft-spoken preacher often stunned his congregation with a booming Holy Spirit sermon. He expounded biblical truth with an authority only found in Enoch of Genesis walking close to God.

Pastor Agnew stepped up to the podium and laid papers on it and his Bible on top of that. Jack had been in the pastor’s home and saw that the man never sat anything on top of the Bible. Jack respected that and had adopted the same stance.

I would like to open up with a passage of Scripture that defines the young lady before us, Pastor Agnew said. I am reading it from the New King James Version as it is a bit more poetic and reminds me of Tawnya. You see, I don’t know her as Master Sergeant Benning. I didn’t know the details of all these wonderful achievements of which the major just spoke, though I don’t doubt them one iota. I just know the woman, Tawnya, wife to a good man and mother to three wonderful children.

Jack’s chest tightened with memories of family vacations and joyful interactions around the dinner table.

Let us read a portion from Proverbs thirty-one, starting at verse ten. ‘Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies. The heart of her husband safely trusts her; So he will have no lack of gain. She does him good and not evil All the days of her life.’ He paused. The rest of this passage describes the woman’s acts of self-sacrifice which would be a portrayal of a day in the life of Tawnya Benning. Let’s move down to verse twenty-seven. ‘She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: Many daughters have done well, but you excel them all.’ He closed his Bible and laid it aside.

I knew Tawnya, the woman, away from her work. I will miss her as a friend. Her legacy is righteousness—not just at church but in everyday life. I could go on for days about her journey through life from my perspective. However, you could follow her children around for a few days and see the impact her life had. I won’t stand here and waste this family’s time on what they already know. But I will read what she shared with me from her private journal the last few weeks concerning each of her children. His brows rose as his soft eyes drifted to each child’s face.

For the next twenty minutes, the tenderness of a mother’s words of encouragement as read by the minister brought smiles and tears to each of the kids.

Then Pastor Agnew’s gaze landed on Jack, and Jack stiffened.

"Jack, I will now read what she wrote to you. I asked her if she wanted me to give