The Other Me

Once Bram was at work, I logged onto MChat using my new profile. Usually, he was on the computer at night, so it was a long shot he'd be active during the day. However, once I scanned all the users, I found him: Darling_B_2626.

My username was Reed_B_1616, with Reed being my mom's maiden name. Before I said anything to the room, I made a silent promise to Bram that I'd be as honest as possible with him during my impersonation. After waiting a few minutes, I sent out a general message.

"Hi. New here. Veteran." It only took a few seconds for the room to welcome me. I watched the messages flood my screen. Everyone was so nice, even Bram.

"Where were you stationed?" he asked.

"You mean overseas?"

"Actually, I meant the bases but yeah, overseas too."

"Afghanistan 2010. But otherwise, I was stationed at Fort Campbell for a little while."

Bram private-messaged me next.

"I was in Afghanistan in 2013. How are you doing since you've been back?"

I paused, unsure how to answer. I knew how much war had changed my mom, and there were plenty of times that she drank to take the edge off. I could use her behavior to lend authenticity to my answer.

"I've been okay but there are a lot of times I don't know how to talk to the people around me. Sometimes the bottle is a better friend."

I could see that he was typing.

"It's hard to talk about and yeah, the bottle is good. But it doesn't stay good. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I wrote.

"Find someone you can talk to. Don't stay in your head too much. I'm guilty of that. It doesn't work." Bram was becoming a mentor to Reed_B. That was a surprise but perhaps it shouldn't have been, given his rank and duty to his troop.

"I think I know what you're saying. But it's tough."

"Not if you find the right person to talk to."

I wrote, "Have you found the right person?", but I didn't hit send. Maybe it was too soon to get that personal. Knowing Bram, it was a bad idea. I deleted it and instead just wrote, "Thanks."

"YW. If you need to shoot the shit, I'm on here from time to time throughout the week."

"I'll keep that in mind. You heading out now?"

"Yeah, but I'll be back later, bro."

"Okay, take care."

Then he logged off.

I hadn't meant for him to think I was a man. I'll have to clarify next time.

***

Later, I was online when Bram came home. I heard him go upstairs so I decided to log into MChat, hoping we'd talk. I could see a lot more people online compared to my last visit. Within a few minutes, his name popped up.

I came out of the side office carrying the laptop. Cautiously, I listened for any movement.

"Bram? What do you want for dinner?" I hollered. I glanced down at the chatroom. Bram was sending me a message.

"Yo. How was the rest of your day?" he asked.

"It was alright. You?" I wrote, balancing the laptop in one hand and typing with the other. I paused and asked again, "Bram? What do you want to eat?"

I watched him typing and then he sent, "My wife is yelling at me."

"Yelling?" I wrote. Was he trying to make me seem like someone who nagged him?

"Yeah. Asking me what I want for dinner. You're from the south, right? Or was that just where you were stationed?"

"I've lived in the south for a while."

"What kind of ribs do you like?" he asked. Was this a test?

"Vinegar-based," I wrote.

He gave me a thumbs up. I hoped he didn't expect me to make those on the fly. Ribs needed to be cooked for hours, sometimes days to get them to come out at the right level of tenderness.

"How about some pork chops?" he suggested.

"K. Sounds good," I answered.

I took some pork chops I'd marinated out of the refrigerator, retrieved a pan, and turned on one of the burners. I glanced back at the laptop. I watched him typing, then he stopped.

I heard movement upstairs. Improvising, I found cooking instructions for our dinner in video format. I played the snippet, pretending to be engrossed. When he stopped to check on me, I wasn't sure why.

"Can you make some pasta salad too?" he asked.

"Yep," I said, without turning around. I heard him walk back to the computer room. Then he sent Reed_B a message. Because I had the volume up on the laptop from watching the cooking video, notifications were ringing out. Loudly.

He sent me another message and I winced as the ding filled the room. I muted the laptop and searched for the settings. As soon as I found notifications, I turned them off for MChat.

I checked what he had sent and then put the pork chops on.

"You feel supported at home?" he wrote. I should probably tell him I'm a woman now … but what if that changed everything?

"Yeah," I wrote. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering if you have a partner to talk to about things."

"I do, but it doesn't always go the way I hope."

"I hear that."

My stomach dropped. I don't know why it bothered me. I knew how he felt, already. I guess I just didn't want to be portrayed as a bad wife.

"I can't always get a real conversation going. Does that sound familiar?" I asked. I could see he was typing.

"Oh, fuck yeah. I don't know if it's like this with you, but for me, my dumb ass forgets how to speak unless I'm giving orders to my men."

I smiled to myself. He was aware of how he behaved, after all. And it sounded like he wanted to be better.

"You high ranking?" I asked.

"E-6."

I debated my next answer. What would a guy say? He'd probably talk it up but not go overboard. I decided to be reserved.

"Cool, man," I replied.

"What's your rank?" he asked.

Fuck. My mom ended up being a captain, but I wasn't sure if I could fake that position if he asked me for details. As I was contemplating my answer from the downstairs office, I noticed smoke had filled the kitchen. Suddenly, the alarm went off. I heard him get up, the office chair swiveling with a loud squeak.

"What's going on?" he shouted. I ran to the pork chops and tried to save them, but they were ruined.

"I'm sorry," I said. He eyed me but then he just walked away. I opened the windows, waved the smoke away with a towel to get the alarm to stop, and tossed the pan in the sink. I decided I'd finish the pasta salad but order some food to be delivered. Spicy tuna sushi was one of his favorites, so I ordered two.

After gingerly walking up the stairs to check on him, I peeked into the computer room. He was still typing on MChat so I went back downstairs.

I opened the laptop again. There were messages from him.

"My wife just nuked our food," followed by, "Damn it. I'm so hungry. Sigh..."

Maybe I should have left the topic alone but instead I continued with, "Yeah, it happens. I'm sure you've had to deal with worse."

"Worse?" he asked. "If you mean women, no, not really."

What the hell did that mean? That I was the worst he'd been with? I had to ask.

"She's bad to you, huh?"

"?"

"What you just wrote. ^."

"Oh, fuck. That's not what I meant."

When he didn't provide further details I sent, "Relationships are hard."

"Yep," he wrote. Then, the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, the delivery driver was smiling at me. I paid and thanked him, then brought the food in. I took the sushi boxes out but hurried back to chatting.

"I got married kind of young," I messaged.

"How old? I was 26," he wrote.

"Me too."

"Cool. How long?"

"Three years."

"Wow. Me too," he wrote. I became worried that it would seem I was trying too hard but then he continued, "It's weird. I was overseas, where arranged marriage is the way life goes. Then I come back to the U.S. and ended up in the same situation."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "No judgment. Just curious."

I wanted to keep the conversation going but I knew he was hungry. I called up to him about the sushi. He came downstairs, took a box of spicy tuna, got some sriracha and wasabi, then brought it back to the computer.

"You don't want to eat down here?" I asked.

"Nope!" he yelled, with a tone of happiness in his voice. He wanted to talk to "me." That felt good. I was helping him!

I ate at the island, dipping my sushi in sriracha and adding wasabi. Mine also had eel sauce which was sweet with a slight taste of soy. I shoved the salmon lover's roll into my mouth. Bram wasn't alone in his love of these fish dishes.

"My dad set it up," he added. "The marriage thing."

"Is it religious?" I asked. I wanted to see how he'd explain this.

"No. It's not faith based. It's a family thing. To get someone good enough for me." I almost laughed out loud. As if he, with his asshole ways was-- "I'm joking, dawg," he speedily added then wrote, "I barely deserve her."

I began to blush. I had to reread that a few times. Was he serious or would this be followed up by a wise-ass comment?

"I think I know what you mean," I wrote.

"Really? In what way?"

"Well, my partner is very attractive, and I don't think I'll ever measure up."

"Oh yeah. Mine is too. Smoking hot. I'd say she's a 10."

"Wow, bro," I wrote. My reaction was genuine. I had no idea he felt that way about me.

"Yeah. And she just got me my favorite sushi."

"Nice :)" I stifled my joyful giggles.

"Yes, definitely."

"Did you say you have a hard time talking to her?"

"Yeah. I'm not the best conversationalist. I can be a dick, sometimes. Not going to lie. You know how it is."

"I'm the same way. What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

"Damn dude, what haven't I done wrong with her?"