Chapter Twenty-Six
The Welcome Home Center on Fort Carson could have lit the world for the amount of energy emanating from the families there. Palpable excitement hung in the air. The smiles of children waving American flags astonished me with sheer beauty. This is what joy looked like.
I’d never come to a homecoming ceremony before. Mom had always gone alone, needing that time with Dad, and we’d waited at home, baking god-awful cookies that Dad would devour and claim were the best he’d ever had. It was our tradition.
I shifted in my seat on the bleachers, pulling my sundress down to cover more of my thighs. The wood was slowly putting my butt to sleep. I played with the clasp of the purse in my lap, knowing full well what was inside, knowing the time had come for this envelope. Well, almost.
A little girl, about a year old, toddled up the bleachers, holding her mom’s hand, and sat two rows down. Her tutu was red, white, and blue, matching the obnoxiously wonderful bow in her hair. Her mother fussed with her shirt, and then began tapping her foot, releasing nervous energy.
I knew that feeling, what it meant to wait, knowing everything was about to be okay. The minute he walked through that door, life would stop being a half-existence and would start in earnest again. Despite what I was here for, I smiled, taking in some of that woman’s joy.
Mom made her way around the bleachers, caught my eye, and started up. She was dressed in a simple green sheath, clothed in class and dignity.
She smiled as she took her seat next to me, patting me on the knee. “I saw Sam come in, too. You look beautiful today, Ember.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
We were both drawn to the noise and presence of the room, unable to look away from the joyous anticipation of the families waiting. Five more minutes.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked, concern in her eyes.
I nodded, and the words slipped out before I could stop them. “Mom, I’m sorry I was mad at you. I shouldn’t have been. If Josh ever . . . If he . . . I don’t know if I could go on living, let alone function, and he’s not even mine. Dad and you, that was over twenty years, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you lost him.”
She pulled me against her shoulder and leaned her head against mine. “You had every right to be angry with me. And for the record, it was you. You, Gus, April, that’s what held me here. You’re what made it worth it.”
“I love him so much, Mom. I don’t know how to get past this.”
“Then don’t.” She pulled back, propping my chin up with her fingers. “If you love that boy, you don’t get past him. Love is precious, Ember, and it doesn’t come around very often. What you feel for Josh? It might never come again. Could you live your life knowing you’d let it slip away?”
“I can’t stand by and watch him die. I can’t.” I shook my head, my lips pursing to fight back the swell of emotions. “I can’t start this in fear of where it ends.”
“No one knows where it ends.” Her fingers shook just enough to be noticed. “Why do you think I made you come here today?”
I shrugged, looking at all the waiting families around us, counting down their last moments before this deployment would end for them. “For closure?”
She laughed. “Oh, God, no. All you’ve ever seen from our life is the bad. You’ve seen the good-byes, the moving, the distance. You’ve held my hand through deployments and cared for your siblings when I couldn’t. You’ve seen the folded flags and watched your father lowered into the ground, but you have never seen the high, what usually happens at the end of a deployment. You need to understand why it’s worth it.”
“Nothing can be worth it, Mom.”
A sly smile graced her lips. “I’ll accept my Mom-was-right moment in just a minute.”
Right on cue, the loudspeaker came on. It was time. The families came to their feet, the noise comparable to one of Josh’s hockey games, but more passionate.
I stood with my mother, our arms around each other’s waists, an island of mourning in a sea of unbridled joy; the waves were taking us over.
The doors flung open, and the soldiers marched inside. Cries of delight filled the air, welcoming home heroes like rock stars, tangible relief in the giddy squeals. The tears that threatened me weren’t ones of grief, but an overwhelming need to let out the emotions I couldn’t contain: sadness that this wasn’t our day, happiness for the baby girl clapping in front of me, thankfulness that my father’s soldiers and friends had made it home alive. He would want this. If there was anywhere he would want to be, it would be here, now.
There were two hollow spots in the first row of the company, and my mother let out a smile and a sigh. “They came home with them in spirit.”
I stared at that empty space, imagining my father standing stoic and straight.
After a speech that seemed to last a lot longer than the thirty seconds the clock witnessed, the general ordered, “Dismissed!”
The bleachers cleared like it was the last touchdown of the Super Bowl, a stampede of love avalanching down to consume the gym floor in a melee of hugs and kisses.
I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
My mother squeezed my waist, pulling me in tighter. “This is what you needed to see. There is not one moment I have ever regretted loving your father. Even after losing him, I would go back and choose him all over again, and that has nothing to do with you kids. Even if we didn’t have you, the years I was able to spend with him are well worth the price of this pain.” She gestured to the reunion s going on below us. “These moments, these are the ones you cling to, because it may hurt to send him away, but nothing compares to having him back. It makes you more thankful for what you have, more aware of just how precious it is.”
She turned to me, holding my face, so alike hers, in her hands. “Do not take love for granted.”
“June!” Sam’s mom called out from the floor, dressed in uniform.
“Sandra!” Mom called back. She squeezed my hand and descended, leaving me alone on the bleachers while pictures were taken and hugs were given in front of me.
Sam waved up to me, but stayed on the bottom row, somehow sensing I needed to be alone. She was good like that.
I sat and pulled my purse over, opening the latch and removing the worn envelope addressed to me. I carefully opened the seal and slid out the single 8x10 piece of notebook paper scrawled in my father’s familiar writing.
Yes, if there was anywhere he’d be, it was here, and I was finally ready to hear what he wanted to say.
Oh My Beautiful December,
When your mom named you on that freezing night, it felt fitting. You were such a calm baby, patient and soft like snow. It wasn’t long until I realized what a fire you had within you and knew Ember was what you always would be to me.
I can’t pretend to know what you’re feeling, but if you’re missing me as much as I miss you, then I’m so sorry, baby. Leaving you like this was never my intention. I can’t even begin to apologize for all the things I’ll miss in your life. But I need to tell you a few things:
Hug your mother often, she’s going to need it.
Don’t spend your life making other people happy or doing what you think will fit in those immaculate plans of yours. Take a chance. If you won’t do it for you, then do it for me. You weren’t born to be confined to a roadmap.
Live, baby. Laugh, cry, scream, and love. Realize that every moment you have is worth every drop of sweat and tears you can give it.
I suppose, since apparently I’m dead, I can say this: ditch the jerk-face. You may think you love Riley, but one day real love will amaze you. Move on and find someone worthy.
Always remember that I love you, and have since the moment you were on your way to us.
That’s it, baby. You have been one of my greatest joys, Ember. I promise that you might not see me, but I’m still there, still waiting to watch you get married, graduate college, and begin your life. I’m already so proud of you, and I know I’ll be proud of whatever you choose to do with your life. You are strong, so very strong.
Thank you for making my life worth living.
I love you, December, be brave.
Daddy
My fingers trembled, but I managed to fold the letter and get it back in the envelope. For a few moments, I studied the happy reunion s, the smiling faces and open laughter.
The love that filled this room was the stuff of movies and legends. It was the happy ending of every fairy tale, the epilogue of an epic love story.
Epic love stories needed epic loves.
Who would grasp onto Josh when he marched in from deployment? Who would kiss him good-bye and give him someone to come home to? Who would he lift into his arms and hold in thankfulness?
Me.
I was his, and he was mine. And I was done being afraid.
I scurried down the bleachers, checking my watch: 10:45. Shit.
“Sam!” I ran headlong into her.
“Whoa, who’s on fire?” She laughed. “Girl, have you checked out some of these soldiers? They haven’t seen a woman in a while, and I’m betting I’m right up that—”
“Sam!” I interrupted, grabbing her shoulders. “Can you get me up north in the next fifteen minutes?”
A grin broke across her face. “Feeling like another ceremony needs you more?”
“Yes.”
“About f*cking time!”
We raced to the car, avoiding strollers and duffle bags. We pivoted around kissing couples and dodged between packed vehicles ready to take their soldiers home. Sam’s car was in the middle of the gridlock, locked in. “Shit!” I yelled, scaring the nearest couple.
“Take mine!” My mom raced up behind us, keys in hand and perfectly balanced on her high heels. “It’s there! Take it!”
She pointed to where her Yukon was perched at the very front. A hop over the curb and we’d be on the road. I turned back and hugged her. “Thank you.”
She squeezed me to her for a millisecond before pushing me away. “Go!”
Sam and I slipped past three more rows of cars, and I unlocked the doors as we ran. “I drive faster!” she shouted.
I tossed her the keys and jumped to the passenger side. She had the engine cranked and the car in gear before I yanked the door closed. We jolted over the curb and into the grass before gunning it on the road.
I slammed my seat belt home. “Faster!”
“I’m already going fifteen over, and speeding on a military installation is a federal offense!” She cut back and passed someone illegally.
Once we got through the gate and merged onto the highway, she was a speed demon, taking the speedometer places my mother would never want to know about. There was no time to be nervous about what I was doing. I was too busy cop-spotting and praying for my life.
Seven minutes. We had seven minutes, and we were easily twice that away at normal speeds. Then again, I expected Sam to break into warp in just a matter of seconds. She took the off-ramp so quickly I grabbed the oh-shit handle, and prepared to flip, squeezing my eyes shut.
“You seriously think I don’t know what I’m doing?” she mocked and merged into traffic.
“Sam, that light is red!” She busted through the light, tearing up the hillside to our college.
She raised her eyebrows at my shock. “What? I looked both ways!”
“Incredible. We’re going to freaking die before I can even get there!” She yanked the wheel hard to the left, cutting through the resident parking to get to the building where the ceremony was.
The brakes squealed, and my body shot forward, stopped only by the seat belt before slamming back into the seat. “Sam!” I yelled.
“It’s 11:01! Get your ass in there!”
I threw open the door and bolted across the pavement. “Thank you!” I called back over my shoulder before pulling open the heavy glass door. The hallways were eerily quiet.
“You here for ROTC?” a guard asked.
I smoothed back my mess of hair and straightened my shrug over my shoulders. “Yes, I am.”
He pointed down the hall. “Room 114, but you’re late.”
I nodded to him and took off running, thankful I’d worn flats today. I’d have been all over the place in heels. I skidded to a stop in front of the room, confirmed the number, and slipped in, blending with families as they took their seats.
He was easy to spot. I’d never wanted to see Josh in a uniform, but in blues, he blew me away. He was different, austere somehow, like by putting on the uniform, he’d matured years. I chased away the apprehension and instinct to run. Be brave, Ember. I could do this. I would be strong like my father, and brave like my mother.
The back of the room was lined with windows overlooking the Front Range, and the sunlight was perfect for this time of day. I sat far enough back in the room, about seven rows, that he didn’t notice me. I liked the element of surprise, which caught me off-guard when I saw Jagger in uniform down the line from Josh.
The instructors gathered the sixteen graduates and lined them up with the Rockies as their backdrop. They called the room to attention and started the ceremony. I was too absorbed in watching Josh to listen to the speeches. Not once did he smile, or look happy like the others with him. Instead, he looked resigned, trapped. A stab of guilt pierced me. I had taken this happy moment from him, because he thought it cost him me.
I would never again hold this man down.
The oath of commissioning started, the deep voices of the graduates swearing to defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. It was a beautiful oath that touched me every time I heard it. Selfless service, it was apparent in every one of their faces.
The MC, a lieutenant colonel, explained the pinning process and how each of the graduates had selected someone special to pin on their yellow bars. “Butter Bars,” Dad had called them. Josh was third from the end, and I sat anxiously as the other graduates were pinned.Crap. I hadn’t watched enough of this. I couldn’t remember exactly where the rank went. My sigh of relief was audible when I realized they were using shoulder boards, and I wouldn’t have to freak out about getting the rank on straight.
One by one, I watched them pin, the knot of tension growing in my stomach with each passing second. Was I about to make an ass out of myself? Was Tweedledum here, waiting to pin him? Josh had no responsibility to wait for me. After I broke his heart again last week, was he going to want me?
“Joshua Walker,” the MC called out.
Josh stepped forward, and I lost my heart all over again. Unlike the others who were pinned in relative silence, Josh spoke. “The man I wanted to pin me couldn’t be here today. He saved my life in Afghanistan two years ago, only to fall there this last Christmas. I can honestly say that without his support, I wouldn’t be here.” The MC walked over, ready to pin him.
It was now or never. “His daughter will stand in for him.” I stood slowly and stepped into the aisle, meeting Josh’s shocked gaze. I walked carefully toward him, aware that every eye was on me. Don’t trip and fall. Once I reached him, I held out my hand, and he gave me his shoulder boards. “On behalf of Lieutenant Colonel Howard,” I whispered. I slipped the left shoulder board on. I leaned up on tiptoes, now wishing I’d worn the heels; he was so tall I only reached his collarbone. “On behalf of me,” I whispered again, and slid the right shoulder board home.
I knew the routine. If I’d have been a man, I would have shaken his hand. Instead, I reached up and kissed his smoothly-shaven cheek, taking a millisecond to absorb the delicious way he smelled. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Walker.”
His smile was radiant, though quickly contained as was proper in uniform, and I pulled away. I couldn’t hold back my grin when I took my seat. I’d just delivered Josh Walker the shock of his life.