Memories of Summer (Seasons of Sugar Creek)

1. A Dark Christmas

1

A DARK CHRISTMAS

S ummer Blakely pasted on a smile as she stepped into the communications room. She feared it didn’t reach her eyes, but maybe her parents wouldn’t notice.

Of course, they’ll notice . She sighed.

They always did. Summer saw their concern even though they never said anything outright. She sat at one of the stations to start the video call. Her happiness became more genuine when the screen lit up, and she saw her mother’s face, which was so much like her own, down to the splatter of freckles across their nose and cheeks.

“Merry Christmas!” Her mother waved and then called off-screen. “David, she’s on.”

Summer’s dad appeared and sat on the couch. They leaned together to see the screen, and it looked like they held each other up by sitting close. Her mom had bits of silver in her hair, but her dad was completely bald. Summer inherited her thick dark hair from her mom, but the slight wave had come from her dad. She also got her pale skin and tendency to freckle from her mom, but she had her dad’s hazel eyes and high cheekbones.

Her parents looked like they’d aged since she last saw them in September. Summer missed them more than she thought possible and wondered for the hundredth time in a month if it was time to leave the Army. She simply didn’t know if she could handle moving back to Sugar Creek. There were so many memories of who she’d been and what she’d lost there. Especially now that Brandon had moved home. There were also a host of well-meaning townies who would ask awkward questions she didn’t have answers for. Shaking off that train of thought, she refocused on her parents.

“Merry Christmas. Did May and Autumn come home this year? What about Hunter?” Summer asked about her siblings since none had made it home for her mom’s birthday last fall.

“Hunter came for a few days, but Autumn and her husband are staying through New Year’s. May brought her boyfriend with her. He’s a nice guy,” her mom answered.

“What did you think about him, Dad?” Summer asked with more than a little bit of teasing. Her dad constantly told them no man would be good enough for his girls.

“He was okay.” He shrugged. “I’ll get used to him if they’re serious.”

Summer shook her head. She could tell from the tension in his face that he didn’t like the guy. Her dad wasn’t much for talking about his feelings. She got that from him as well. It was easier to say everything was okay, even when it wasn’t, rather than dig into wounds and make them bleed.

“How’s Afghanistan this go around?” her mom asked.

Summer mimicked her dad and shrugged. “The same as before. Miserable. It’ll take a month to get the sand out of everything.” And the smell, but she didn’t share that with her parents. There was an odor that you couldn’t escape—burning fires, garbage, human waste—it hovered in the air and seeped into everything.

“Are you safe?” her dad asked.

“As safe as everyone else.” Summer didn’t elaborate. Her parents didn’t need to know how quickly things could go wrong. To change the subject, she asked, “Can you show me the tree?”

“Of course,” her mom jumped up, the computer camera shifting as she moved from the couch to the front window where they always set up the Christmas tree .

Glimpses of the house flashed across the background. Twinkle lights in garland hung along the staircase banisters, the mantel, and the archway leading into the kitchen. Summer caught a momentary glimpse of the wall with their family photos. There was barely any room left on it from the years of memories. The furniture looked old, and it was, but she knew it to be comfortable and the very essence of home. She swallowed the homesickness that grabbed her by the throat.

Finally, the front bay window came into view behind her mother. The evergreen filled the space and glittered with colored lights. Her family used white lights everywhere else, but the tree was always lit with flashing colors. Her mother said it felt like the Christmases past when her children were little. White was too grown up for the tree.

“It’s gorgeous, Mom,” Summer said.

“I wish you were here.” Her mom blinked away tears. “We love you so much. We worry every day. I know you love what you do, but consider coming home.”

“I will, Mom.” Summer didn’t say anything about not loving her job. She’d always been proud of what she accomplished in the Army. It had given her a solid foundation and structure when everything else in her life had evaporated like wispy dreams. Her training and every experience afterward made her stronger. It helped her deal with the things she wanted to forget. Mostly. But the love for the job had dissipated over time as the desire to go home grew.

“Mom,” she started, then stopped when the image of her commanding officer, Griff, reflected on the computer screen. He’d walked in silently until he stood behind her.

“Oh,” her mom jumped when she noticed him.

“Mrs. Blakely,” Griff said with a dimpled smile. He kept his sandy brown hair just long enough to run his fingers through. Summer knew he wasn’t there to call home because he wore his improved outer tactical vest, better known as an IOTV. He winked but didn’t immediately stop the conversation with her parents.

Her mom asked, “How often do I have to ask you to call me April?”

“Sorry. I hope you’ve had a wonderful Christmas, April. David.” He nodded to them both and then turned to Summer. “We’ve got an emergency run.”

“Yes, sir. Mom, Dad, hugs. I’ll talk to you soon.” Summer blew them a kiss and ended the call without waiting for the return goodbye. “How bad is it?”

“Emergency EVAC of medical personnel.”

“Sugar honey iced tea,” she grumbled.

Griff laughed at her, and the twinkle in his blue-gray eyes helped her relax. “I see you’re still trying to stop cussing,” he teased her.

“And you keep challenging me,” she grinned at him.

“Better me than the insurgents.”

“Yeah.” A string of swear words ran through Summer’s mind, but she held them in. Although that was the language of the military, she’d been trying to cut back in preparation for returning home. The fact she managed it was another testimony that it was time to go. Her soul needed the comforting presence of her parents and siblings and the knowledge that she was safe. But even as she thought it, she knew nowhere was ever completely secure.

“Do your efforts mean you’ll head home at the end of this tour?” he asked.

“Probably.”

“You know, you could have taken several promotions over the years. Maybe that would have been reason enough to stay.”

“Nah. I don’t need the pressure of making decisions that affect others.” She punched him on the arm. “I’ll leave that to you.”

“Smart as…astronaut.” Griff stopped his swear word, making Summer laugh.

She’d miss him the most. They’d become almost like brother and sister over the years. Sometimes, she wished she’d felt a romantic connection to him, but she didn’t. There was only one man she’d ever wanted in that way.

Griff straightened his shoulders and continued more professionally, “Briefing in ten. We hope to hit the road in an hour.”

She nodded and left to use the restroom and grab a protein bar. Usually, they had hours to prepare and plan for each convoy. Luckily, they had standard protocols and plans for such situations, but she knew her nerves would be on high alert until they returned to base.

Their destination was a village of only a hundred and twenty people sixty kilometers east of Kabul along the Kabul River. Driving through the terrain at night along a well-known route could be easy, or it could be risky. You never knew what to expect.

Summer respected the heck out of Griff and the others willing to bear the burden of leadership. She preferred to follow orders because she didn’t trust herself enough to make those judgment calls. That was another long-lasting effect of what had happened to her ten years earlier. She’d made a mistake, and it had changed the course of her life. Joining the Army felt safe because she no longer needed to make those little daily decisions.

Two hours later, they were well into their journey. Summer rode shotgun while Griff drove. She loved riding with him because the conversation was always easy, but tonight, he pushed her out of her comfort zone—into that realm where she had to choose.

“Come on, pretty girl, tell me what you’ve decided,” Griff prompted as he followed the Humvee in front of them.

“Griff,” she sighed. He knew how much she hated when he called her pretty girl. It reminded her of a simpler time when innocence and hope filled her life. The name—and that girl—didn’t fit with their current environment.

“Don’t Griff me. One of these days, you’ll find that part of you again.” It was like he could read her mind. “Hopefully, soon. Are you reenlisting or heading home?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“You should go home.”

“What?” Summer stared at him. She’d gladly let him boss her around but for one thing. “You reenlisted.”

“I don’t have a family worrying about or waiting for me. You have a life to—” his words were cut off as the vehicle in front of them exploded.

Orders came over the radio, but the words didn’t register before Summer’s world erupted in light, heat, and pain as their vehicle was violently lifted off the ground. She stared out the window as time stopped. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes. Instead, she saw all the might-have-beens.

She saw herself standing in a white dress in front of Brandon. He smiled down at her while she held a baby in her arms. She saw the camping trips with the family they should have created together. And lazy days on the lake, as well as sunsets from the porch of a house in the mountains of Vermont. Those thoughts winked by in an instant before she slammed to the ground, and darkness claimed her.

Summer didn’t know how long she was unconscious, but it couldn’t have been long. Awareness returned sluggishly. First came the smell of burning tires, oil, and flesh. Muffled noises registered next. She couldn’t make out the words of the shouting voices due to the ringing in her ears. Finally, the pain hit like a freight train.

Her right side felt like she’d been beaten with a hammer, probably from her body crashing against the door. And her entire left side felt like it had been scoured with sandpaper. Warm liquid dripped from her forehead.

She cracked open her eyes. She hung upside down in her seat, held in place by her seatbelt. Blood rushed to her head, causing it to pound uncomfortably.

Move, soldier .

She reached up and touched her forehead, and her finger came away slick with blood. The gash didn’t feel too deep, and her helmet was intact. She blinked to refocus her eyes without much success. It was hard to breathe.

Get it together, Blakely .

The area immediately around the vehicle was dark, with no orange glow to indicate fire, but sitting in the Humvee was a bad idea. As her mind focused on the task, she immediately turned to the man beside her.

“Griff?” she gasped as she unlatched her seatbelt and fell to the cab’s ceiling, which was now below her. The impact sent a new round of agony through her battered body. “Griff?”

He didn’t answer, and she wondered if any sound had come from her lips. Everything was muffled by the explosion. Gunfire pierced the night from various directions, but even it sounded distant. She reached for her M16 and held it at the ready. After another quick check out the windows, she shifted her focus to her friend.

Need better cover .

Shaking her head, she examined Griff, still attached to his seat and hanging upside down like she had. His door was missing, and she could see shadowed movement outside. However, she struggled to concentrate, making it hard to tell if it was friend or foe. Whoever it was, they disappeared quickly.

She forced herself to her knees and finally her feet with new urgency. She bent in the cab and examined her friend. Griff’s face, clothes, everything was charred. His blood mingled with the burnt fabric and skin in a gruesome combination, and his helmet was cracked down the side. His hand and lower left arm were gone, as was most of his left leg, but his chest rose and fell with labored breathing.

“Griff,” she hissed. “Hold on. I’ll get you out.”

She focused on the front windshield, thinking pulling him out that way would be easiest. It was webbed with cracks, but it hadn’t shattered. She sat and kicked it with both legs. The motion stole her breath; it hurt so much. After four tries, she gave up. It took too much energy, and the reinforced glass was stronger than her weakened legs. They’d have to go out his door.

“Summer?” Griff’s voice croaked.

“Griff, you with me?” She struggled to stand again, and her legs trembled. Her mouth was full of blood and gritty sand, and the world wobbled. Bracing herself against the frame, she willed the nausea to pass. None of that was good news.

“Good. You?” He opened his clear blue-gray eyes, and she was surprised at how bright they were in his blackened face.

“A little beat up, but I’ll live.” She tried to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t know she was terrified for him. She couldn’t reach the larger first aid kit to do much good, especially with him hanging above her.

“Down,” he croaked.

“Griff, I’ll drop you. It’ll hurt like nothing you’ve ever felt. ”

“I’m numb. Doubt I’ll feel it.”

“Griff.”

He sucked in more air and coughed. Fresh blood splattered from his lips. “Don’t let me die hanging.”

“You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”

“Summer,” Griff spoke her name with a growl. “Get me down.”

She wanted to call for help but feared that would only bring the enemy to them faster. “Someone will come.”

“Please,” he begged.

“Okay.”

She wrapped her arms around him the best she could, hoping her shoulders could hold his weight, but she knew once he was freed, they’d both go down. Summer braced her legs to cushion the fall as best she could.

“Three, two, one…”

She unlatched the belt, and they both tumbled. The weight of his body landing on hers squashed the air from her lungs. Griff let some colorful words drift into the night, and Summer laughed hysterically as she blinked back tears.

“Told you,” she muttered, allowing herself to rest momentarily. Then, with great effort, she moved out from under him. “Okay. Let’s move. Sorry about this.”

She strapped the M16 over her shoulder and looked out the window to ensure it was clear before scrambling out. Then she grabbed Griff under his armpits, lifting him slightly from the ground. Finally, she anchored her feet against the outside of the vehicle’s frame and pulled with all her might while pushing with her legs. This time, they both groaned and swore from the agony of the motion.

“Keep it quiet, soldier,” she whispered. “I don’t know the situation.”

Summer gave another tug, and they ended up on the ground, staring at the stars; Griff cradled in her arms, half on top and half beside her.

Where was everyone? She didn’t hear any more gunfire, and all movement had stopped or was out of her range of vision. Someone should have checked on them by now, but the radio chatter had fallen silent. She grabbed the tubing from her hydration pack and took a drink. Then she pressed it to Griff’s lips.

“Take a drink,” she whispered. She felt movement and thought he took a swallow before turning his head away.

Summer gathered every ounce of willpower left and sat up. It was dark except for the stars and the fires burning around them. She shifted them farther into the shadow of a rocky outcrop and tried to assess Griff’s wounds better. He was severely burned from the explosion and bleeding out from the damage.

“We need to get a tourniquet on your arm and leg,” she said.

“Don’t bother.”

“You’re going to live,” she ground out the words while she ripped some singed fabric from his fatigues. It wasn’t clean, but she didn’t have a lot of options.

“It’s okay. No one will want half a man anyway.” Griff closed his eyes while she tied off his arm and leg, praying it would slow the bleeding.

“Open your eyes, soldier,” she ordered, again pulling him into her arms. When he did, she continued, “That’s not true.”

“Summer?”

“Yeah?”

“Go home.”

“Okay, but you’re coming with me.” She wouldn’t cry. Tough Army girls didn’t cry.

“I don’t have a home.”

“I’ll share mine. You’ll love Sugar Creek.” She rocked gently back and forth without realizing what she was doing.

“What’s your favorite thing about Vermont?” he asked.

Summer swallowed. For years, she had avoided thinking about her hometown, only going home when she couldn’t stand not seeing her family, and then she’d only stay for a day or two. It was too painful to talk about, but she knew Griff needed something good to latch onto. So she let her mind recall the happy times she’d never have again.

“Everything. Although it’s grown in the last ten years, we’re a small town. We’re nestled by an inlet of Lake Champlain, so you can look across the water one way and see mountains rising in the distance. Then, if you look the other way, the water stretches so far you can almost pretend it’s the ocean, but with a few tiny islands dotting the surface. We also have hills and mountains, waterfalls, hot springs, and a river that flows off Mount Rosie past town and down to the lake.

“Fall is beautiful when the leaves turn, but it doesn’t last long. Then there’s skiing and snowboarding in winter. Spring is my least favorite, as everything turns slushy and muddy. But when the new baby greens pop out, it makes me so happy.” Summer rambled as she held Griff despite the shrapnel digging farther into her body.

“And summer?”

She forced a laugh. “I guess that’s my favorite. Not because of my name but because everyone is outside having fun. That time of year is so full of life.”

“Like you.”

Summer couldn’t hold in her tears any longer. Griff had been trying to build her up since the moment they met. What would she do without him?

“Tell me about your guy,” Griff wheezed. “Is he good? Will he take care of you?”

“If I let him.”

“How do you know?”

Summer could feel Griff slipping away. Her mind couldn’t think of anything to tell him. And then a tiny memory she hadn’t thought about in years popped into her mind.

“The summer we were fifteen years old, we were on the mountain hiking. There was a big group of us, and we were goofing off and having a blast. And then, we heard this man yelling. He had fallen down a steep embankment opposite the trail and was tangled in the underbrush. His voice was scratchy from yelling so long.”

Summer took a deep breath and continued. “The others wanted to run for help, so Brandon told them to go as fast as possible. But he said he’d stay, and I stayed with him. He couldn’t get to the man, but he didn’t want him to be alone. So he sat and told the man all kinds of stupid tales about the Sugar Creek High football team. He had me laughing, and by the time search and rescue arrived, Brandon could barely talk himself.”

“Sounds like a good man.” Griff coughed again, and blood hit her cheek. “Let him take care of you. And name a kid after me.”

“Griff,” Summer sobbed, but he didn’t answer. His glassy eyes stared at the stars above, and she knew he’d never answer again.

She held him closer and hummed. The words to the song wouldn’t come, but she was still humming when the choppers arrived. She kept humming while they pried Griff’s body from her arms, while they moved her to a stretcher, and loaded her into the helicopter. People asked her questions, but she could only stare and hum. The one anchor she’d allowed herself to hold onto was gone.