Valentine Love Story Writing Contest Landing a winner

1111The rules were simple. We asked for a clever ending to this year’s love story, “Waiting in the Wings,” using 750 words or fewer by the Feb. 2 deadline.

Some of the endings were too long. A few were too late. But most were exactly what we asked for — a creative happily-ever-after ending.

These are the judges’ favorite three. To read some of the other entries, visit www.vindy.com/lovestory. The stories are unedited.

Here is the beginning of the love story:

The plane was cramped, the buckle of her seat belt dug into her waist, the in-flight meal was awful, and the flight attendants were terse and rude.

Nonetheless, Sgt. Allison Andrews’ ebullient mood couldn’t be tempered. After a long two-year deployment in Afghanistan, she was finally heading home.

As part of a female military engagement team, she had worked with six other female officers as they assessed the needs of women and children in Afghanistan and helped find solutions to their problems. They visited women’s centers, orphanages and education centers, delivering supplies and conducting assessments at various sites around the country.

Sure, she wasn’t in a combat zone, ducking mortar fire or avoiding land mines, though she had great respect for her fellow soldiers who faced those each day. But she couldn’t deny the warm feeling of pride she held for her job and the impact it could have for future generations in Afghanistan.

Allison really and truly believed that even when she was long gone from the world, there might be some good out there that she, in part, made happen.

Above her head, the plane’s seat-belt icon blinked and then turned off, eliciting a thankful sigh from Allison. She released her belt and reached into the overhead compartment, searching for her rucksack.

From the front pocket of her bag, she pulled out three letters. The edges of the envelopes were tattered, and the pages inside were tearing at their folds. The paper was crinkled, and the black ink now looked a bit gray.

The letters were from home, as indicated by the stamp of her local post office on the corner of the envelope, but there was no return address.

She couldn’t figure out the identity of the author of the letters, but she deeply treasured their words. There were words of great pride about her service and what she had given up for her country. “You’re not forgotten while you’re away,” the author wrote. “You’re on my mind each and every day.”

The words in the letters were present tense, but they made Allison dare to dream about the future, about what she wanted to accomplish and when she wanted to settle down.

She had kept the letters in the inside pocket of her uniform since she received them. Their words helped her the most on days when she and her team went into places that seemed beyond help or on days when Allison was haunted by the thought of friends headed into dangerous battles.

On an overhead monitor, a plane icon showing the progress of her trip slowly but surely came closer to home.

She squeezed the letters and felt her stomach do a little flip. The last letter had ended with the message, “I’ll be there to welcome you home.”

As the plane descended, her heart thumped as every emotion regarding the letters bubbled to the surface. Would the mystery author be whom she expected?

Allison was one of the last passengers who left the plane, and her bag was one of three suitcases still spinning on the baggage carousel. She headed toward the waiting area, and in the distance, saw her name written on a large white sign. Unable to see who held the sign, she began to run until the face of her mystery writer became clear. ...

AND THE WINNERS ARE:

FIRST PLACE

Name: Bobbi Ennett Allen

From: Youngstown

Prize: $100 gift certificate from Rulli Bros.

She began to run until the face of her mystery writer became clear. ...

Crystal blue eyes held in a face ravaged by time stared at her. One wrinkled, worn hand held the sign with her name, the other hand held fast to a cane. His face said he recognized her. She hesitated, but only for a moment, because those clear blue eyes held her and beckoned her forward.

He smiled and introduced himself with a chuckle that immediately put her at ease. “I’m not what you expected, I’m sure. But I can explain.”

She smiled and told him that his letters were a treasured gift from home and encouraged her more than she could say. “But,” she said, “I’m afraid I have no idea who you are.”

“I am a soldier. My name is Staff Sergeant Joseph Allen,” he proudly stated. “Retired.”

Allison relaxed. He probably belongs to one of those groups that pick a name from a hat and write to encourage the men and women of the Armed Forces, she thought to herself. Not Prince Charming, as she had so fervently hoped, but safe enough. She had let her imagination take her down the wrong road. It would be a nice afternoon with a very engaging old man, but that was all.

“I fought in the Second World War many years ago,” he explained as they sat to have coffee.

Allison told him that her grandfather had fought in that same war and her father had served two tours in Vietnam. “It was their sense of pride in serving their country that made me choose this path,” she told him. “They are both gone now, and I’d like to think I made them proud when I enlisted.”

“I know they are proud of you,” he said. And as Allison looked into those eyes, she believed him.

“My son was a fine soldier, and my grandson just returned home on leave this week,” he told her.

Those clear blue eyes misted with unshed tears. “My son died in Vietnam. He never saw his only child, but I know he is proud of him.” He wiped a tear away and smiled. “Your father was with him when he died. He wrote to me after he came home, and we met a few times to talk. He was a great comfort to me.”

“I didn’t know,” Allison said softly.

“No, we never told anyone. I don’t think your mother or my wife knew. Two soldiers who have seen too much loss, met occasionally to talk of things only we understood. We lived in the same town, but we guarded our friendship closely. Memories can be hard for some, but so needed by others. Something only a soldier understands.”

He was quiet for a moment then he slowly shook his head. “I have watched over you from a distance. A favor your dad asked of me when he first knew about the cancer, and one I gladly accepted. I placed a wreath on your father’s grave when you left for this tour of duty. It was my way of asking him to watch over you while you were gone. I wanted your homecoming to be something special. I owe your father a great debt. And this country owes all you young people so much!” He looked over her shoulder and smiled.

Allison’s eyes filled with tears when she remembered the day she left for Afghanistan. A wreath with red, white and blue flowers stood on her father’s grave. She hadn’t known who placed it there until today.

He saw that she was upset and quickly said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to take you to lunch before we take you home!” he said. “And, in case you didn’t notice, I’m a bit too old to be driving, so my grandson has graciously offered to go along and be our chauffeur.” He stood and placed his hand on the shoulder of another soldier.

“Allison, this is Daniel,” he said. And, for the second time today, Allison looked into the most engaging blue eyes. Eyes that held her and beckoned her forward.

Prince Charming smiled as he took her hand. …

SECOND PLACE

By Mary Joyce Dillon

Allison spotted Sam’s adorable, scruffy face before she saw the wheelchair parked close by. It was obvious by the exhuberance that Sam had not forgotten the love that they had shared nearly two years before in that faraway place.

After lots of hugs and wet kisses, Allison turned her attention to Sam’s companion in the wheelchair. Immediately Allison visually registered the prosthetic legs, but then she recognized the bright, shiny eyes, the warm smile and the name tag sewn on the Army fatigue shirt, “C. DAVIS.” Memories flooded over Allison.

Allison was busily involved with empowering the women and children in Afghanistan when she met Sam and experienced love-at-first-sight. After several days of pure joy for both, Allison discovered that Sam belonged to another person, who had been recently seriously injured in the war. Despite Allison’s devotion to Sam, she was compelled to see that Sam was reunited with the other person who had also been captured by that special love.

Allison accompanied Sam to the hospital for the reunion. She spent only a few minutes with Sam and C. Davis before she was confident that she had made the right decision. The two of them were meant to be together, and now more than ever they needed each other.

Allison left the hospital with only a photo of Sam in her pocket and an emptiness in her heart. Looking at the picture and reading the mystery letters that arrived later always brightened an otherwise dark day for Allison. Now, nearly two years later, Allison was standing before Sam and C. Davis once again. It was obvious that their love was as strong as ever.

C. Davis spoke first: “Allison, Sam and I have not forgotten you and your selfless gesture. We thought about you and talked about you every day. At the hospital on the day we first met, I mentally photographed the name on your shirt. … “A. Andrews” and focused on it during the long, painful days of rehab. When I was stronger, I made it my mission to find you and maintain contact through letters until we could meet again. Sam and I hope that our letters sustained you while you bravely served our country and the women and children in Afghanistan. It is our hope that you will be part of our lives forever.

Before Allison could respond, Sam eagerly wagged his tail and barked in total agreement. Allison experienced a second chance at love-at-first-sight.

THIRD PLACE

By Steve T. Shelton

Allison had volunteered for the female military engagement team that assessed the needs of women and children primarily because of the opportunity to visit and work with orphanages and education centers. Back in the States, she herself was an orphan who grew up in foster care from the age of 2 and spent much of her early childhood with a few foster families, most of whom she had fond memories. She still felt the sting of being moved around within the system, until she was finally adopted by a truly loving set of parents by the name of Andrews. Her new mom was Ellen, and her father was Robert Andrews and they had no children of their own and were so excited to hear they were adopting little Allison, who was just 7 years old at the time.

Allison grew up quite happy on the East Side of Youngstown, even though her family had little by way of financial things and both of her parents seemed to work long hours. She always felt loved and really didn’t go without, because her mom and dad always put her first. She was their princess and the center of the family.

Occasionally, Allison couldn’t help but let her mind wonder back to those days she spent in foster care and one particular little friend whose name pops in and out of her little brain, Abby. But as quickly as the name pops in, she gets distracted and soon it fades to a distant memory.

When it came time to graduate, she had to make a decision on her future and it seemed to come down to attend YSU or go into the Army. During a visit to the local Army recruiter is when she found she could join the Army and be assigned to the female engagement team working with orphanages and children, she was all in. Robert and Ellen were so proud of her decision and just knew she was going to make a real difference in children’s lives. That summer she forwarded her enlistment papers to Washington, D.C., and soon was in basic training waiting for assignment.

In November of that year, her assignment came through with directions to work with the engagement team in Afghanistan. Some six months later, the assignment papers came across the desk of a young Army private, who had just recently been assigned to the desk position at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. What caught her eye was the date of birth, April 24, 1991. She at first thought “Hey, that is the same birth date as me.” She was curious and looked further and saw that she was born in the same city, which was Youngstown, Ohio. She knew this because she had been looking for her birth mother for some five years and had the date and location imbedded in her mind.

Taking down the name and phone number, she immediately called the number to hear Ellen answer on the other end. She identified herself to Ellen and told her of the search for her birth mother when she came upon Allison’s birthdate and place. Could it be? Ellen was as shocked as anyone, as if a lightning bolt had hit her.

Over the next few months, Ellen and the young lady talked, compared notes and agreed to meet. When the young lady agreed to come to Youngstown to meet Ellen, it became clear she was a splitting image of Allison. Soon after, Ellen wrote the first letter telling Allison how proud she was of her service and she hadn’t been forgotten and she was especially on her mind every day.

The third letter was written by the young army private and talked about a shared future and simply said “I’ll be there to welcome you home.” It closed with love and lots of X’s and O’s.

Allison clutched the letters as she ran down the airport hallway toward the sign to see her Mom and Dad holding the “Welcome Home Allison” sign, tears running down everyone’s face and after a big family hug, her Mom said, “I have someone I want to introduce you to” and then stepped aside while Allison stared into the smiling, tear filled face of the Army private. Both were dressed in their military best. She had a face that smiled back and looked just like Allison’s face. The young lady stepped forward and said, “Hello, my name is Abby and I think we may be twin sisters.”