Her lips turn as a sad smile forms. “I know you don’t, but life is having it all. You can’t know real love unless you’ve had true pain. You’re life isn’t going to fit in some box. We’re all bigger than that box. You, me, Aaron, Mason, and even Liam . . . we don’t get to define the box. But you,” she clenches my arm, “You’re loving even through your pain. You’re beautiful even when you tried not to be. When Aaron died and you had Aarabelle, you lived because you’re better than the box you’ve put yourself in.”
I listen and let her words comfort me. I take each syllable and savor it, really take it in, because she’s right. I know this, but sometimes I forget. The pain and sorrow are easy to get lost in. For some reason, it’s almost easier to be unhappy, but I don’t want to live a life full of misery. I have a beautiful daughter, a fantastic support group, and I have Liam.
“I don’t want to live in a box,” I admit with tears streaming.
“I won’t let you, but it’s not me who opened the lid and for that reason I think he’s good for you.” Reanell pulls me into a hug then pushes back. “Now, do you still want to go in there or should we go get ice cream?”
I laugh despite the tears and hug her again. “Let’s go get our gym on.”
She groans and her head falls back against the seat. “You’re so damn evil.”
“No, I’m just stepping out of the box.”
“Fucking box.”
“Yup, fucking box.”
I’m dying. There’s no other way to describe the immense pain and discomfort I’m in. I blame the gym. Plus, Aarabelle was sick the last few days and, of course, now I have it. Aches and shivers plague my body and I want to crawl in a hole.
“Aara, please stay in one place,” I plead as she starts to head toward the other end of the room. She’s crawling, which makes this illness a hundred times worse. And she doesn’t nap as often, so I get no time to rest.
Three days of her awake all night was bad enough. Now that I’m thoroughly run down, I get whatever bug she had . . . awesome. Liam is due home today from another work up. I forgot how much I hated the stupid training missions. Gone all the time and then they leave for the deployment. I used to beg Aaron just to go for an extra month so it wasn’t one week here and one week gone. Maddening is how I’d describe it.
When they’re gone, you have your routine. You know what your day will entail. These small training missions screw up your rhythm. Even though Liam and I don’t actually have a rhythm—yet. We speak every night on the phone. He’s trying to let me decide the pace, but for right now, I’m happy with how things are. There’s no real definition. We enjoy each other’s company, he makes me laugh, he’s attentive, and caring. Most of all, he’s good to Aarabelle, which matters more than anything to me.
“Lee? You in there?” I hear a knock on the door, but I must be hallucinating now. Fantastic, the fever has gotten so bad I now hear voices.
I hear the banging again and Aarabelle squeals. “Okay, okay. Shhh,” I beg the door and Aara, since my headache is now full out throbbing.
“Natalie . . . I’m going to use the spare key if you don’t open,” Liam’s voice is warning as I drag my body to the door.
I open it and lean against it. My eyes squint from the bright sun and I moan.
“What the . . . ?” he trails off as he looks at me.
Glancing down at myself I realize what has him mystified. I’m in my grey Navy Wife sweatshirt and orange sweatpants. I lift my hands up to smooth my hair, only to feel that it’s half in a ponytail and half out. Well, no going back now.
“If you’re going to judge, you can leave.” I cough at the end and he steps in the house. “Enter at your own risk. I’m dying.”
Liam chuckles and shuts the door. “You’re not dying.” He steps in and kisses my forehead. “I think you need to take more medicine and go lie down. You’re burning up.”
Sleep.
Sleep sounds good.
Sleep and drugs.
“Okay . . .” I trail off as I drag my feet. “Wait!” I exclaim and then cough.
“What?” he asks, picking up one of the burp clothes with a pencil.
“Aarabelle. I have to watch Aarabelle,” I remind him and start to shuffle back toward the couch.
Liam grabs my shoulders, laughing. “I’ve got her.”
Well, that wakes me up. “Huh?” My eyes are wide as I look at him.
He shrugs and smiles. “I’ve got Aarabelle, you go to bed. Maybe a shower too,” he nags while laughing. Dick.
“Bed. Okay. Are you sure?” I question him one more time. This is his last out. Otherwise, I’m going to bed and taking some heavy medication. I need to kick this virus and fast.
“I’ve fought in wars, survived BUDs, dragged bloody bodies out of firefights, and much worse than a few hours with a kid.” Liam cocks his head and the confidence he has rolls off him in waves.