Chapter Five
Sarah
T hree days. Three. Days.
That was all I’d been given to find a way to say goodbye to my son.
“How am I supposed to even begin ?” I’d asked my mom after telling her the devastating news. “He’s not even five. He’s not going to understand. Not really.”
My mother had gathered me into her arms and held me while I’d sobbed. She’d cried too, and my father had swept us both into his arms.
“I don’t know,” she’d told me eventually. “But just spend time with him. All the time you can. Make an impression. We’ll ensure he grows up knowing his mom was a hero. That she saved the lives of millions because of what she did.”
There was no question they would raise Jake. Not to them. I’d never even brought it up, and they’d assured me they would.
I just hated that they had to. My anger over the entire situation had grown by the hour. Now that the appointed time had nearly arrived, I was a seething ball of rage.
“Mommy? Are you okay?”
Nodding, I rerooted myself firmly in the moment. “Yes, of course, baby. Mommy is fine.”
It was a lie. A horrible lie, but one I felt had to be told in the moment. Yet another thing I’d vowed never to do with Jakub, or any future children, and there I was, breaking it. Trying to preserve the image of me in his mind as someone strong, someone he could look up to, if I were lucky.
My shoulders shook as I fought back another sob. He’d probably grow up resenting me for leaving. For not being present.
As I would resent myself.
“What do we do today, Mommy?”
I gathered him into my arms, hoisting his growing frame up to my hip. “You’re going to spend the day with Grandma and Grampa, okay, little buddy?”
Innocent brown eyes looked up at me, entirely uncomprehending why we’d spent so much time together over the past three days. Not realizing it was the last time we’d get.
I’d tried to make the most of it. We’d gone to the zoo to see all the animals, which was one of his favorite things to do. I’d brought him to the White House, somewhere he’d always wanted to go once he found out what I did, but which I’d tried to keep him away. We’d seen a movie in the theaters and eaten so much popcorn our stomachs hurt.
Then we went shopping for pillows and blankets and built the absolute biggest pillow fort anyone could conceive of. From its openings, we’d battled hordes of zombies and evil alien space monsters with our ray guns—painted cardboard tubes—and celebrated our victory by eating the delicious alien insides—which looked and tasted suspiciously like ice cream cake.
With my mother’s blessing, we’d even gone and adopted a puppy. Something Jake had been asking for, but I’d had to say no to because of my job. Now, the little head-tilting mini-velociraptor was currently inside being chased by my dad. But it was cute. I doubted the name SuperPawMegaDog would stick.
Not that I would ever find out.
“Yes, little buddy. Today is a day with your grandparents.”
“Are you going back to work?”
I bit my lip, nodding slowly. “Something like that, baby, something like that.”
Jake took that in, thinking slowly. “Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I don’t want you to go back to work. Can you stay with me?”
My arms trembled to the point I had to set him down. I crouched to his level, so I could keep him wrapped up. “No, I can’t baby. Not today. Today, Mommy has to g—”
Words failed me. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes as my stomach churned like the seas in the middle of a hurricane.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t. He was my baby! How could anyone make me leave him? It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair …
“Mommy, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Tiny little arms wrapped themselves around my neck as my four-year-old son gave me his version of a bear hug.
Pieces of my heart shattered, falling in slow motion. How could this really be the last time I’d ever get to hold him? It didn’t seem real.
Outside, a deep-throated rumbling engine came to a halt at the bottom of the driveway.
“No,” I whispered, eyes darting to my wrist. Was it that time already?
My mother appeared in the hallway, her eyes glistening as she dabbed at them with a tissue. We exchanged looks. Our goodbyes had been said the night before as I cried into her shoulder like I was the child again. Though to her, I suppose I always would be.
None of us spoke. It was as if we knew that doing so would shatter the moment and make it real.
“Hey! You! Give that back!”
A ball of fur came hurtling through the door from the study, holding something that looked suspiciously like a slipper. My father came barreling after it, holding something over his head that may have been the other slipper. They came and went in a flash.
“At least things will be interesting around here,” I said, trying to be humorous.
“If there’s one word I’ve learned to use to describe your father over the years, it would be ‘interesting,’” my mother said with a wry smile, though it faded swiftly, leaving us with the growl of the Chevy Suburban waiting for me on the street.
It was time. I locked eyes with my mom, who nodded and stepped forward, arms outstretched to take Jakub from me.
“You go with your grandma now, okay?” I said. “You be a good boy for her and do what she says. Do you understand?”
Jakub nodded. But as I tried to pass him over, he grew squirmy and thrust his arms out toward me. “Mommy, please don’t go! I don’t want you to go. I’ll be good. I promise. Stay!”
“Oh, Jake!” I sobbed, gathering him back up in the biggest hug I could muster.
Behind him, my mother turned away, but not before I saw fresh tears rolling down her cheeks too.
“I love you,” I said, stroking and kissing his head. “You know that, right? You know your mommy loves you?”
“Love you, too,” he said, squeezing tighter.
Four years old or not, I could have sworn he understood the situation better than I gave him credit for. He was always surprising me like that, showing deeper comprehension than it seemed on the surface.
“I’ll love you now and tomorrow, forever and always. You’ll always be my baby boy,” I half-sang into his ear.
We stayed that way for a few more minutes. There was no honk from the Suburban, but even if there was, they could go to hell and wait a bit longer. I wasn’t leaving until I had to. Every extra second with Jakub was worth it.
But as with all things, time eventually comes for them.
There was no spoken signal, no noise from outside. Just a feeling. A quiet notice from somewhere deep inside that “It’s time.”
“Okay, baby.” I set him down, where he proceeded to cling to his grandmother’s leg. “You be good. Make sure to help your Grampa with SuperPawMegaDog, okay? He looks like he needs you.”
Like I need you .
“Uh-huh. I will.” He nodded as seriously as a four-year-old could.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I bent over and kissed him on the crown of his head. Some of my tears splashed across his hair. He didn’t say anything. Neither did I.
“Thank you,” I whispered, gathering my mom in a hug.
My dad came out at that moment, sensing it was time. SuperPawMegaDog was under his arm, happily chomping away on the slipper he’d stolen.
“Time?” he asked, looking back and forth.
I nodded, and a second later, I was swept into a giant bearhug.
“Love you, my baby,” he said. “Take care of yourself, okay? We’ll hold the fort down until you can come back.”
We both knew I wasn’t coming back, but I appreciated him saying it, nonetheless.
“I will,” I said. I hugged Jakub once, and once I let go, he clung tighter to his grandmother’s leg, if that were possible. The seriousness of the moment was getting to him. “I’ll always remember you, little buddy. Don’t forget me, okay?”
“I won’t.”
Did he even know what he was saying? I wasn’t sure.
Then it was time. I hoisted my bag and opened the door, staring daggers at the big black SUV waiting at the end of the driveway.
My chest rose as I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
You can do this.
I stepped from the house onto the front walkway.
“ Mommy! Wait! Come back!”
“ Oh, baby!” I cried, turning to sweep my son into my arms as he charged down the sidewalk bawling his eyes out.
I spun him around, squeezing so tight I thought I might hurt him.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise! Just don’t go!”
The tears flowed like waterfalls. “Oh, my baby. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? You understand me? You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a good boy. This isn’t about you?”
“Why you going, then?”
“Beca-because … because I have to,” I said, my voice breaking.
“To protect the people?” he asked hopefully. That was what I told him I did for work.
“To protect the people,” I repeated. “That’s what Mommy does.”
“Okay, Mommy,” little Jakub said as if that made everything right in the world. “Time to go to work.”
“Yes, my baby,” I said, ruffling his hair and kissing his head. “Time for Mommy to go to work. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I kissed him again, and before I could do anything else, I turned and walked down the driveway. The passenger popped out of his front seat and opened the door for me. He wisely said nothing and didn’t try to make eye contact.
I waved goodbye one last time before the door shut and the tinted windows shut me off from his sight. Then we were gone, pulling away before I could rush back out one more time.
Then it hit me, and I bent forward, forehead on the seat in front of me as the bottom of my stomach gave out and emptiness flooded me.
I whispered into that vacuum. “ What have I done?”