Chapter Sixty-Two
Sloane
Three days after I mailed my letter to Ashley, I found a pink envelope sitting on my bed when I returned to my barracks after a counseling session, and a few thoughts immediately popped into my head.
One—she’d written back, and two—she’d used her pink stationery. That felt significant since the letter she’d written to me when I was in San Antonio had been on white paper and sent in a plain, white envelope.
Grace was a fucking genius.
Although, I was disappointed that the envelope didn’t smell like her perfume, especially now that my sense of smell had returned.
Three—mail was definitely quicker when you lived in the same city.
I noticed my heart beating a little faster than normal as I ran my finger under the envelope flap. It was an action I’d done so many times before, it was like muscle memory took over.
An actual photo of Millie in a pink outfit lying on a mint-green blanket and smiling brightly at the camera greeted me when I unfolded the pages. It was the first picture I had of her that wasn’t digital, and I knew exactly where I was going to put it—on my mirror, opposite the one of her mama. The one I’d dug out of the banker’s box Colonel Swartz had brought me in San Antonio.
Ashley’s beautiful script as I sat on my bunk to read felt comfortably familiar. A happy difference was sweat wasn’t dripping down my back as I scanned the pages.
Dear Sloane,
I hope this letter finds you healthy and happy.
She was switching up her intro. I liked it.
I loved reading that you’re making good progress, and that your new leg is working out! That made my little PTA heart so happy!
I have to agree with you and Ryan, but I dare to take it a step further. Not only is your daughter the most beautiful baby, but I’m also confident she’s the smartest, too. Stu is convinced she’s already starting to talk. I think that might be stretching it, although I would never tell him that and burst his bubble! LOL
“Your” daughter. She’d said your daughter. Not my daughter, or even our daughter. That had to be a good sign, right?
Of course I’ll send a picture, but just so you know, you’re welcome to visit her anytime.
Reading those words caused a feeling of relief to flood my central nervous system. She wasn’t shutting me out, I was welcome to visit Millie—anytime.
The Jeep really has been a lifesaver. But I insist on returning it when you’re driving again. No arguments!
I wasn’t taking the Jeep back, but that was a disagreement for another day.
The guys are all attending the holidays with their families, so Millie and I will be at my mom’s on Thursday. I’m glad you’ll be getting two dinners this year. You have a few to make up for, I’m sure.
If she only knew how many.
The skin graft sounds encouraging! I’ll keep you in my prayers that it goes smoothly. (See what I did there? Haha.)
Take care of yourself! I hope you continue making wonderful progress.
All my best,
Ashley
Oh, this was fucking promising. I hadn’t felt this hopeful in almost a year, when she’d agreed to come to Miramar and welcome me home with my friends.
I needed to write her back, before today’s mail went out.
****
Ashley
Two days later, my heart skipped a beat when I received another letter from Sloane.
I remembered that giddy feeling all too well.
Maybe the man I fell in love with really did exist. Or at the very least, we could become friends and co-parent our daughter.
I wasn’t greedy. If that’s all that became of our letters, I would be happy with that.
That’s what I told myself, anyway.
Then over the next few weeks, we started sending letters like old times, although not daily. Frankly, I didn’t have time to write him every day. But it was three times a week, and our exchanges were fun, bordering on flirty, but never crossing the line. Plus, he wanted to know more about Millie, I really loved telling him about our child.
On a Thursday evening, my phone dinged with an incoming text.
Sloane: One year ago today, I kissed you for the first time. Is it inappropriate to say Happy Anniversary?
I glanced at the date on my Fitbit and realized he was right. It’d been a year since I met him in person. Tomorrow would mark a possible conception date for Millie.
Me: I’m not sure if “inappropriate” is the right word. Maybe “no longer applicable”?
Sloane: Why not? This will always be a special day for me.
I sent him a smiling face because I had no idea how to reply with words.
Sloane: Anyway, sweetness. I just wanted to tell you that I’m happy you changed my life a year ago, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Me: Are you flirting with me?
Sloane: What if I was?
Me: I’m not sure.
The dots indicating he was replying started and stopped, started and stopped, then finally…
Sloane: Fair enough. Give my daughter a kiss from me.
Me: You should come do it yourself soon.
Sloane: Just Millie?
He couldn’t say things like that to me. But a sliver of my heart, the part I’d clamped down tight, jumped for joy.
I sent back an emoji of a woman shrugging.
Apparently emojis were my go-to when I didn’t know what else to say.
~~~~
We continued exchanging letters several times a week, and when I prepared the Military Angel Thanksgiving packages, I made one for Sloane, too. Since he’d moved out the day before his birthday, I still had part of his present.
“I thought you said cheesecake gets smashed in transit?” Stu accused. “That’s why you don’t send it in care packages.”
“I think this one will survive.”
I didn’t tell him the wedge being sent was only going across town in a Tupperware dish, in a USPS box lined in bubble wrap. I was sending more durable desserts overseas.
“I mean, I’m not complaining. Your cheesecake is probably my favorite thing that you make.”
He wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Also in Sloane’s package was a collage frame filled with pictures of Millie that I’d originally planned on giving him for his birthday. Although I replaced a few pictures with more recent photos of her, I left the one of her in the hospital I’d made a copy of for him, along with the one of her and Tank the first time they met, and a few older ones, so he could see how much she’d grown and changed in just a few months’ time. For old time’s sake, I included some of the store-bought snacks I knew he liked, along with some jerky.
Second guessing myself all the way to the post office about whether I should send it, I quickly paid the postage for all three packages and handed the boxes off to the postal worker behind the counter before I could change my mind.
The night before Thanksgiving, I was in the beach house kitchen making a dessert to take to my mom’s the next day. It was just Millie and I; Stu and Bobby had both left earlier that day to spend the long weekend with family. No one had replaced Crash yet, although Bobby had moved into his room. I guess that side of the house was a lot quieter since it was away from the main living area.
The sound of my phone ringing made me jump, and I lunged for it since my baby girl was sound asleep in her playpen in the family room.
I answered it without looking at who was calling.
“Hello?”
“You are the most thoughtful woman on the planet,” came a deep voice that I still heard in my dreams.
His greeting made me smile, and I put the call on speaker, so my hands were free to keep working on the pie filling I was making.
“I take it you got my care package.”
“I did. It was the nicest surprise I’d gotten since the last one you sent.”
Oh, you mean before you started sending my mail back?
Of course I didn’t say that.
“I’m so glad. I love hearing that. It makes the effort worthwhile.”
“You know I’m stateside now, right? I can buy my own beef jerky and snacks.”
“But you can’t buy my cheesecake or pictures of Millie. And since I had room in the box, I thought I’d include some other things I knew you enjoyed.”
“Like I said, most thoughtful woman on the planet. Thank you, Ash. Seriously. You made my month.”
“Of course.”
There was an awkward pause until he asked, “Are you making dinner tomorrow?”
“No. I’m just in charge of dessert, and I’m making that now.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting. I’m glad you called; it’s nice to hear your voice.”
The minute the words were out of my mouth, I closed my eyes tight. That probably wasn’t something I should have said to him.
He didn’t make a big deal about it, though. Instead, he asked, “How’s Millie?”
“She’s sacked out in her playpen. Stu and Bobby left a little while ago for the holiday weekend, so they kept her awake during her nap time.”
I expected him to ask who Bobby was, but instead he asked, “You’re alone this weekend?”
“Yeah.”
For a second, I thought he was going to invite himself over, but he replied, “Make sure all the doors and windows are locked downstairs before you go to bed.”
Our little portion of the beach was secluded and always felt safe. The neighbors were all friendly, and I recognized almost everyone who walked along the beach. The house next door had just become vacant, but the signs along the property indicated it still had a security system, so I couldn’t imagine there’d be any squatters or anything like that.
Still, I knew it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, I appreciated that he seemed concerned for us.
“I will as soon as I hang up with you.”
“Why don’t you do it now, while I’m still on the phone. I’d feel better knowing you were safe.”
“Okay, let me put this pie in the oven first.”
“No problem. I’m happy to keep talking to you.”
I couldn’t let my heart be vulnerable again, and I tried to give it a reality check.
“So, any word about when you can get back to active duty?”
“Not yet. It’s still too soon.”
But I knew it was only a matter of time. Hopefully, he wouldn’t change his mind about being a father once that happened.
****
Sloane
Ash and I ended up talking for an hour and a half. When I finally hung up, I found myself wishing I had a vehicle so I could drive to the beach house and be with her and Millie in person.
While a valid driver’s license would be a bonus, I’d be willing to risk it to be with them.
Of course, there was that little detail of not being invited, but with how good a conversation we’d just had, I had a feeling she’d let me in the door.
Her bed, I knew, was another story.
But she’d sent me a care package and had taken my call; it seemed like that was a start.