Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
It rained for three days. Chloe and I were going a bit stir crazy.
My doorbell rang. It was Lauren.
She gave me a careful smile. “I thought I'd drop by and say hi.”
I held open the door. “Come in.”
I put on coffee as she wondered around our family room. She turned, holding up my baby book.
“You’re pregnant.”
“22 weeks.” I brought her a cup of coffee.
She eyeballed my stomach. “How are you feeling?”
“Fat.”
She smiled. “Just wait until you are 38 weeks.”
We sat down.
“Where are your kids?” I asked, trying to be conversational.
“My mother-in-law is visiting. What happened to your arm?”
“I was in New York, and I tripped backward over a stool. I have a hairline fracture in my wrist.”
We fell into an uneasy silence .
“Lauren, I don’t mean to be rude, but you didn’t seem that enamored with me at your BBQ.”
“Harper is my best friend.”
Ah. That made a lot more sense. But that still didn’t explain why she was here.
She started, “Your husband is an exceptional soldier.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She looked down at her coffee. “My husband was on night patrol. And he got jumped by some insurgents. He said he was about ten seconds away from being killed and Jackson saved his life.”
My eyebrows went up. Trying not to imagine that scene. Night time. Men with guns. What Jackson would have had to do to save her husband’s life. “My husband asked you to be my friend.”
“I'd do anything for Jackson.”
My face grew hot. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”
“He reminded me that you hadn’t been given a fair chance.”
“People love Harper.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “Jackson never wanted to settle down. I’ve seen dozens of women fling themselves at him, but no one could hold his interest.”
“Until Harper.”
“Everyone thought that she was going to be the one. They were together a long time.”
“Then he came back from New York with me in tow.”
“No one seems to remember that Jackson has the right to marry whomever he wants. Everyone just looked at that situation and felt bad for Harper.”
“He got me pregnant.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, he never looked at her like he looks at you.”
Apparently, she had missed the fiasco at her BBQ. “I never meant to hurt anyone. I didn’t even know about her until I got here.”
She gave a short laugh. “No. But you get the blame.”
I looked down at my hands. I didn’t know if I should be thrilled to be talking to someone other than Chloe or devastated that my husband had to call in a favor to get someone to come over and talk to me.
“What is this?” she leaned forward and was looking at some of the sketches I had done for Alien’s mural.
“Just some preliminary drawings for a mural I’m doing.”
Her head shot up. “You paint?”
“You want to see?”
Five minutes later, Lauren stood in Alien’s room.
“This is incredible,” she turned and looked at me. “You did this?”
“I have a lot of time on my hands.”
She cleared her throat, hesitating. “My daughter loves Elsa.”
“You need a mural?”
“Are you for hire?”
I tried to think of how my granny would handle this opportunity. “I'd do it for an exchange.”
“What kind of exchange?”
“I need to meet more people, but I don’t even know how to do that.”
“I know everyone.”
We looked at each other.
She held out her hand, “I think we could make a deal.”
A couple of nights later, after dinner, Jackson called me on Skype.
“Hi,” I peered at him on the screen. He sat outside under the shade of the military netting. His camo baseball hat was pulled low over his eyes. His hair was sticking in all directions from beneath his hat, making him look adorable. “How are you? ”
“Good.”
“Are you safe?”
He just smiled at me.
“So, Lauren dropped by the other day for coffee.”
“Oh yeah?” His expression looked innocent.
“Embarrassing that my husband had to call in an old favor to get me a coffee date.”
His expression was hard to read. “How did it go?”
“She has commissioned me to paint Elsa on her daughter’s wall.”
“Who’s Elsa?”
“You’ll find out soon enough if Alien is a girl.”
“What’s the commission?”
I shook my head.
He leaned forward, intrigued. “What?”
“I’ve been invited to a Scentsy party and a bridal shower.”
“You’re bartering for friends.”
“Chloe told me the other day that I’m starting to repeat my stories.”
He laughed. “That bad?”
“I’m desperate.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“She got me an invite. I still have to win them over.”
“You've got this.”
“How did you save her husband?”
He was about to speak when suddenly a loud explosive boom happened off camera. Jackson turned, shielded his face, and then he hauled an enormous scary automatic weapon up from his side. He stood up and looked towards the sound of the explosion.
“No,” I said as he moved, disappearing out of view of the camera. I sat there, my hand over my mouth, staring at that netting, and listened to the worst sounds I had ever heard. Men shouted. The pop pop pop of gunfire. I saw other men run by with huge guns, in the direction that Jackson had disappeared. Another explosion. More shouting. Terrifying gunfire that never seemed to take a break. Then the camera was falling and lying on the ground. And then everything went black.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” I looked at the screen. I was crying. “Please call back. Please call back.”
I sat there for an hour and dialed his Skype number to no avail. The absolute worst things were going through my mind. Visions of Jackson lying in that dusty sand, bleeding. Hurt. Possibly even dead. I texted him. I emailed him. I tried to call him. Nothing.
There was no communication at all from him. Where was he? What had happened? I knew he was a soldier, I knew he was a SEAL, but what I had just witnessed, made me realize first hand that this was real. Jackson lived and worked a dangerous job. He could die at any moment.
I could not erase from my mind the sight of him heading into a gunfight. If something happened to him, I would not survive. I couldn't imagine my life without him. The thought alone made me sick. I knew what death was. I knew what loss felt like, but to have Jackson die, that would feel like all the oxygen would be sucked out of this world. I would never make it.
I paced the length of the house, too freaked out to sleep. I made up some rules for myself.
If Jackson survived this, I'd never bother him again with my shit.
Going forward, he’d get sunny, happy me on Skype telling him how awesome life was.
The house could burn down around me, and I'd tell him everything was great.
I wouldn't distract him with my petty problems.
I wouldn’t get emotional or give him bad news.
He needed my support, not my issues.
At 5 AM, precisely nine hours since I last saw Jackson on Skype, I crawled upstairs and wrapped myself around his pillow, falling asleep with my iPad in my hands. When I woke up, I didn’t let the iPad leave my sight. I kept it charged and the volume on full. I constantly checked to see if it had power and if the volume was on. Chloe didn’t get her walk. I spent the entire day, sitting on the couch waiting. Waiting to hear from Jackson.
Seventeen hours later, my Skype rang. I opened it, and there he was. Looking dirty, hot, a bit pissed off and alive.
I worked to not burst into tears. I had vowed to support him going forward. This wasn’t just about me. This was about him, staying safe and coming home.
“Emily,” he gave me a look. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.”
“Were you worried?”
I moved the iPad away from my face so I could quietly sob. Then I wiped my tears and came back.
“Em, I know you’re crying. Why are you hiding that from me?”
I sniffed, “I don’t want to distract you.”
“From my job?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
“You know what makes me good at my job?”
“What?”
“My ability to completely focus. So you never have to worry that you’re distracting me. I can get the job done here, no matter what's going on there, okay?”
“I waited and waited for you to call back. I didn’t know what to think.”
He gave me a regretful look. “We had a blackout after our incident.”
“What does that mean?”
“Means that they turn off all outside communication for the entire group during notification of NOK.”
“What is NOK?”
“Next of Kin.”
I covered my mouth. “Someone died? ”
“Yeah.”
“Oh no!” my eyes filled with tears. “That’s so bad.”
“It isn’t good.”
“Was it a friend of yours?” I asked in a small voice.
He shrugged. “Just knew him by name, didn’t know him. But he has a kid and another one on the way.”
I shook my head unable to speak for a moment. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.”