Chapter Twenty-Three
Ashley
I wasn’t taking another day off until Sloane was home, and we were headed to Mexico, so I was back at the VA the day after Christmas.
On December twenty-seventh, I was driving home from work and switched my radio to the FM stations since I couldn’t find anything good on satellite radio.
A man I recognized from San Diego Action News was talking on the station that came on, and I moved to change the channel then stopped suddenly when I heard: Middle East, stationed at Camp Pendleton, and bomb.
I felt the blood rush from my head, and it felt like I was in a dream. I remember pulling over and as my hands shook, I scrolled through my list of contacts until I found Ryan’s name.
The call went straight to voicemail.
No!
I hung up and dialed again, with the same result.
A feeling of helplessness overtook me, but I refused to sit by and do nothing.
Do I have Maddie’s number? Maybe she’s with Ryan.
If not, who do I know at Camp Pendleton?
I swiped through my contact list again until I reached the letter M. There was the entry I was looking for: Maddie Monroe. I hit the telephone icon, and a wave of nausea hit me just as her phone started to ring.
I wasn’t sure which I was more anxious about—her not answering or me puking in my car.
“Hello?”
Thank God she answered.
“Maddie? It’s Ashley.”
She knew immediately why I was calling because she replied with, “Oh, Ash. We saw the news, too.”
“I just caught a little bit on the radio. Do you know what’s going on?”
“The news didn’t say much, just that two military vehicles were hit by a roadside bomb and personnel from Camp Pendleton were involved.”
“Have you heard from Sloane?”
“No, not yet. But you know what?” Her voice got stronger. “That’s a good thing. No news is good news.”
I needed to believe that with every fiber of my being.
“Let’s hope so. I’ve been trying to reach Ryan, since Sloane said he’s his emergency contact…”
“Yeah, Ryan’s not in a good way right now. Grace was in a car accident last week, so between that and him being crucified on Page Six, he’s a wreck. He’s hiding out at Paradise Point Resort this weekend. I’m not even sure he has his phone with him.”
I obviously hadn’t been following the gossip pages because I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Oh no! Is there anything I can do? I should visit Grace.”
“That’s really thoughtful of you, but she won’t know who you are. Grace doesn’t remember anything after August. She has no recall of Thanksgiving, including getting snowed in with Ryan up at the cabin, much less agreeing to even date him. Grace still thinks Sloane is getting ready to ship out the first time.”
“I’m so sorry.” I loved hearing that Grace and Ryan had finally gotten together and could only imagine how devastated he had to be that she didn’t remember any of it. However, I had my own crisis to deal with. I didn’t want to be selfish, but I had to know. “So, if Ryan isn’t able to be reached, how will we know if something happened?”
“Craig is Sloane’s second emergency contact, so, the Marines will contact him if they can’t reach Ryan. We don’t usually bring that point up because Ryan likes the idea of being special.”
That made me laugh, and I could almost picture Maddie’s sly smile.
“So will you let me know if you hear anything?”
“Of course, you’ll be the first to know.”
I hung up the phone and clung to her hopeful words as I finished the drive home. I thought I’d calmed myself down, but apparently, I was wrong because the minute I closed my apartment door, I made a mad dash to the bathroom and lost my lunch.
~~~~
I stayed glued to the TV and internet the rest of the night and again the minute I woke after a fitful night’s sleep.
My stomach was in knots and the idea of food made me queasy. Still, I knew I needed to try to eat breakfast, but it quickly came back up.
Around one o’clock, Tammy showed up at my door with a pizza in one hand and a six-pack of Leinenkugel’s Orange Shandy bottles in the other.
“I just saw the news.”
Seeing her in the doorway, knowing I wasn’t alone, made me drop my guard. Which wasn’t necessarily a good thing because I burst out crying.
“Aw, babe. I’m so sorry,” she soothed as she walked in, dropped the pizza and beer on the counter, then pulled me in for a long hug.
“Is it Sloane?” she whispered.
“Is who Sloane?” I asked as I pulled away and wiped my eyes.
“Action News…” she stopped. I could tell she didn’t want to say anything else, but I prompted, “Is there something new?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it with a frown.
“Tam,” I said sternly. “What did they say?”
“They reported one dead and four seriously injured from Camp Pendleton, but they aren’t naming names yet. I didn’t know if you’d heard anything more.”
Tearing up again, I sobbed, “No! I have no idea what’s going on! I’m just sitting and waiting to hear if he’s okay, and… nada !”
She rubbed my biceps and said in a soft voice, “Maybe it’s because there’s nothing to tell, and you’re making yourself upset over nothing.” Then she realized what she’d said and tried to correct herself. “I mean, it’s not nothing because there are Marines who were killed and injured, but I mean it’s not Sloane.”
I wrapped my arms around my middle and walked over to the couch to sit down and gently rock myself.
“And I’ve been struggling with that since I found out. I mean, how can I pray for it to be someone else? What kind of horrible person does that?”
That guilt had been wracking through me all day.
Tammy sat down next to me and put an arm around my shoulder.
“Babe, you’re not wishing for it to happen to someone else. You’re just hoping it’s not the man you love.”
My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I froze. My whole body was overcome with a sense that I did not want to answer that call. I knew in my soul that Sloane was one of the men involved. What I didn’t know was if he was killed or injured, and I think that’s the only reason I clicked “answer”.
“Hello?”
“Ashley?” a male’s voice asked.
“Yeah…” I said in a tentative voice and braced myself.
“Hey, it’s Craig. I’m calling with news about Sloane.”
My eyes immediately welled up. “Is he okay?”
“No, honey,” he said softly, “he’s not.”
I bit back a sob as he continued, “He was in an explosion and injured pretty badly. They airlifted him to Germany, and he’s in surgery now, but that’s all I know.”
My mind raced, and I immediately went into crisis mode.
“Where in Germany?”
“The trauma unit at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. It’s—”
I cut him off. In my mind, I was trying to remember where my passport was.
“Do you know the closest airport?”
His tone was kind but firm. “Ash, you can’t fly over there. Not yet, anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’d be a wasted trip. They won’t let you see him, and because you’re not immediate family or listed as his emergency contact, they won’t even give you an update on his condition.”
“I can’t just sit here and wait, Craig.”
“I’m sorry, honey. But that’s exactly what you’re going to have to do.”
Crisis mode—having something to fix, I could do. It would keep my mind busy. But sitting around doing nothing while the man I loved was injured halfway around the world?
I wasn’t sure I could do that.
Like Tom Petty said, the waiting is the hardest part .