Ryan swallows thickly, sniffling back his emotions. “I can’t wait to do all that with you. Watch you grow up… hear you say your first word… be there when you take your first step.” He curses under his breath. “Just do me a favor and don’t do anything until I get home.” He laughs, shaking his head.
“I hope you’re being good for your mom.” He smiles a genuine smile, his dimples popping out. “Give her lots of hugs and kisses for me, okay?” He runs a hand along his shaved head. “I love you so much, RJ. And I love you, Micaela. I know you said no promises… but, I’ll see you both soon.” And with one last smile, his face disappears and the video ends.
I told him not to promise, but he still did. Not in a single letter or text, but in this video. He did. And now he’s going to break his promise. I close my eyes, needing to calm myself. My nervousness and fear is turning into anger and I don’t want RJ to see that. To feel that. He needs me to be strong. Nothing has been confirmed. There’s still hope. He could be at a different base, perfectly fine and getting ready to head home. He’s just running late. That’s all it is… But deep down, I know that’s not true. And lying to myself isn’t going to do any good.
Micaela
Four Days Later
“Sweetheart, please let me take RJ,” Mom insists. Her eyes are filled with a mixture of pity and sympathy. It’s been four days since Kayla dropped the bomb that a base was attacked in Afghanistan, and since then, nobody has heard anything. I want to believe that, since we haven’t been notified of his death, he’s still alive, but we also haven’t heard from him. So that could easily mean whatever is going on over there is bad and they just haven’t gotten around to notifying us yet.
“You need a break,” she insists. “You’ve been holed up here for the last four days with RJ. Please, let me help.”
“I’m his mom,” I snap. “I don’t need or want a break. RJ needs me.” I’m most likely the only parent he has left, I think but don’t say out loud.
Mom flinches, and I feel bad for the way I spoke to her, but I don’t have it in me to apologize. She’s right. I do need a break. I’m emotionally exhausted, and because I haven’t slept more than a couple hours over the last few days, I’m running on fumes.
“And you’re no good to him if you’re not taking care of yourself.” She wraps her arms around me and I inhale her soft-scented perfume, allowing myself a brief moment to escape. To pretend I’m fifteen again and my biggest problem is what to wear or who I should hang out with.
I’m so damn tired, but my mind is racing. It goes from believing Ryan is dead and trying to figure out where I go from here, to having hope he’s alive, which has me trying to search for anything online indicating as such. Unfortunately, while the government will spoon feed little bits of information as they see fit, they won’t give classified details until it’s all been investigated. The only reason Kayla found out what she did was because she’s close with Ryan’s ex, who is still friends with other military wives, one whose husband is at the compound Ryan was at, until he left to go to another one. They can’t give any details, so we don’t know if he’s at the one that was attacked, but the longer he goes without reaching out, the more likely he was.
“Micaela, you’re an amazing mother,” Mom murmurs into my hair. “But sometimes being a good mom means admitting you need a little help. And it’s okay to have help.” She backs up slightly, framing my face with her hands. “It doesn’t make you any less of a mom.” She kisses the tip of my nose. “There’s a reason for the saying: it takes a village. Your dad and me, your brother and sister, Ryan’s family…Even Lexi and Georgia…we’re your village. Let us help.”
I release a harsh breath, letting myself feel the weight of the situation. My head and heart hurt. My body is sore, and it’s hard to keep my eyes open. “Okay,” I choke out.
Mom smiles softly. “I’ll take RJ home with me. Take a bath and relax. Read a book, watch crappy TV. Take a nap. Go for a walk. I know it won’t be easy, but for a little while turn it off.”
“Okay,” I repeat.
“If you’re up for it, come over for dinner. If not, RJ can stay the night.” She picks RJ up, who immediately grins, excitedly cooing at his grandma.
“I love you, little guy,” I say, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Mom. Love you.”
“I love you, too.” She kisses my forehead one more time before she heads out the door with RJ.
Taking her advice, I run a hot bubble bath in the Jacuzzi tub. I spend the next hour shaving and relaxing. I use my iPad to read a couple chapters of the book I’m reading—although, I couldn’t tell you what’s actually happening. When the water turns cold, I jump in the shower and wash my hair, which hasn’t been washed in days.
When I get out, with a towel wrapped around me, I pad into the bedroom to get dressed. I’m about to grab my underwear and pajamas from my drawer, when I spot Ryan’s ARMY hoodie hanging in the closet. My stomach plummets, remembering all his stuff is in here. Because he’s supposed to be here…
I snatch it off the hanger and pull it over my head, the scent of Ryan immediately enveloping me. Instead of putting on my underwear, I put on a pair of his boxers, rolling them up twice so they don’t fall. Then, I climb into bed, knowing I probably won’t fall asleep, but also knowing I need to try. Like my mom said, I need to take care of myself so I can take care of RJ.
When my eyes won’t close, I grab my laptop from the nightstand and drag it over. My finger glides across the trackpad, waking it up, and Ryan’s face surfaces. The last thing I watched was his video to RJ. I click out of it, and his other video taunts me. It’s in the same file folder, named Don’t Watch. Ryan named it that to remind me that it should only be watched if something happens to him—if he doesn’t make it back.
My finger moves the cursor to the file, but I don’t yet click. If I open this, it’s like admitting he’s gone, and I’m not ready to admit that yet. No, I won’t open it until his body has been found, or at least until someone confirms his death.
I shut down the computer and snuggle into Ryan’s blankets. Since we’re using his bed, we’re also using his sheets. Kayla suggested I wash them, unsure when the last time he washed them was, but I was too afraid they would lose his scent. If he doesn’t come home, eventually his smell will disappear. Just like Ian’s did. And all that will be left are the memories.
My heart squeezes behind my ribcage as I think about my memories with Ryan. While I had years with Ian, I only had less than four weeks with Ryan. Sure, we’ve spent the last four months texting and getting to know each other, but it’s not enough. What will I tell RJ about him? I don’t know enough to make sure he knows his daddy. I don’t have memories to share. We never went to the movies, or experienced embarrassing moments. We didn’t have any inside jokes. Hell, we haven’t even gone on a single date. I guess his family will have to share their memories with him…
Sobs bubble up and over, racking my body, as I cry for a life I never got to have with Ryan. We created the most precious gift, yet we never got to experience parenthood together. There’s so much more I want to know about him, and now it might be too late—I may never have a chance to get to know him.