Chapter Three

Nine days later, Sarah was surprised to see her parents on her doorstep on a bright Saturday morning.

“Hey, kiddo,” Marty said as he hugged her. “We figured you could use some furniture, so, we packed up your bedroom and brought it to you.”

“Hi!” she exclaimed. “I found a recliner, and a table and chairs, but that’s it so far. I was planning to hit some more garage sales to try to find some cheaper stuff, but I haven’t had much time.”

“Well, now you don’t have to worry about what to sleep on, at least,” Bethany said, as she held out three envelopes. “Here, honey. These came to the house.”

Sarah’s chest tightened as she recognized Tim’s slanted handwriting on one of them. “Thanks,” she managed as she took them from her mother. “I’ll open them later.”

She took a moment to regain her composure, then put on a cheery smile and said, “So, come on in and take a look at my place!”

“Lots of space here, honey,” Bethany mentioned. “Have you thought about getting a roommate to help with the bills?”

“Actually, no,” her daughter answered, and told them about her arrangement with Jodie, finishing the story with, “I think you’ll both like her. She reminds me a lot of Grandma Peggy, Mom.”

“I miss that sweet woman,” Marty chimed in. “She was a great lady. Best mother-in-law ever.”

He paused, cleared his throat, and said, “How about we get your stuff unloaded and set up?”

Within twenty minutes Sarah’s master bedroom had been transformed from an empty square to a fully functioning space.

“Now then,” Bethany said, rubbing her hands together, “how about we go eat, then shop for some things for your apartment?”

***

By early afternoon Sarah’s mother stood with her hands on her hips, nodding in approval.

“Now it’s a proper kitchen,” she announced to her husband and daughter.

And she was right. In addition to cookware, the cupboards contained matching plates, bowls, glasses and mugs, and Sarah now owned pretty much every cooking utensil known to man in a decorative canister that matched the oven mitts and little towels Bethany had discovered.

Mr. and Mrs. Genard had also insisted on taking their only child to the grocery store and filling a cart almost to overflowing with not just food, but other household staples like aluminum foil, paper towels and sandwich bags.

“Mom,” Sarah had started to protest when Bethany approached the cart with a family-size package of chicken breasts.

“Mom, it’s just me living there. No reason to buy enough to feed an army.”

“I know that,” came the response. “Break the package up into smaller portions and freeze them, honey. I just want to make sure my daughter has enough to eat.”

“Mom,” Sarah began again, but Marty’s hand on her shoulder stopped her as Bethany went off in search of more items to buy.

“Let her go,” he murmured. “You may be almost twenty, but you’re still our baby, Sarah. No way we are leaving here without a whole cart full of stuff. If your mom hadn’t already insisted, I would. All right?”

“Thanks, Dad,” Sarah whispered as she kissed his cheek.

“You gonna tell me what happened, kiddo?”

“Maybe someday, Dad,” she admitted. “Maybe someday when it doesn’t hurt so much.”

“Fair enough, honey. Just know you can always talk to me.”

“I know,” she’d squeezed his hand. “I know, Daddy.”

“There’s one thing I feel like you need to know, Sarah.”

“What?”

Marty hesitated, then looked into her eyes.

“I talked to Patrick Fresco yesterday. Tim’s unit deployed to Afghanistan last week.”

***

“Are we having fun yet?” Dack called down to Tim from the gunner’s turret as they rode.

“Tons, can’t you tell?” Tim answered before returning his attention to his supplies. Dack grinned and resumed scanning their surroundings carefully as the platoon made its rounds.

As the group’s medic, Tim usually had the back of the MaxxPro MRAP ambulance to himself while the patrol convoy was in motion. He only occasionally had to step out while route clearance was underway in case someone got injured as they swept for landmines and IEDs. Everything he’d imagined about this place was spot on, including the ever-present sense of foreboding that had seized up his gut on their first patrol and had never let go.

As they made their way down the narrow road, with all senses peaked to maximum alert, Tim continually hoped for just another routine run, but remained ready should the worst happen. It wasn’t until their group reached the other side of the small village that he allowed himself a full breath. The convoy of five armored vehicles turned left to continue its circuit before returning to base.

***

Her mom and dad met and visited with Jodie while Sarah finished making dinner with her brand-new cookware.

“It’s ready,” she announced as she carried the casserole over and put it on the table. “Help yourselves.”

Marty leaned forward, sniffing the air.

“Is that Grandma Peggy’s recipe?”

“Yep,” Sarah said proudly. “She taught it to me.”

“Jodie, you’re in for a treat,” Marty exclaimed. “This recipe goes back what, three generations, Bethany?”

Bethany nodded.

“With a few alterations along the way.”

They ate and talked, and Sarah tried her best to maintain a happy expression, but her mind kept replaying her father’s words in the grocery store.

Tim’s unit deployed to Afghanistan.

***

Once they’d completed another patrol safely, Tim settled into his bunk, his thoughts full of home, and Sarah.

I’m not going to stop trying to get her back, he told himself, his jaw clenched with determination. No matter what.

One bunk over, Dack watched Tim, and recalled their conversation from the prior day. Tim had finally confided in Dack about everything that had transpired on what should have been the happiest day of his life.

“Man, that’s rough,” Dack had commiserated. “You sure you have no idea what she meant?”

“No,” Tim lamented. “No clue. And because she took off the way she did, I never got a chance to ask her what the hell was going on.”

Hey,” Dack said to Tim now as he watched him, recognizing the glint in Tim’s eyes that meant he was focused. “When we get this tour over and get back home, you’ll find her, and talk to her, and I’m sure it will work out, bro.”

“I sure hope so, Dack.”

“I know so, man. I can feel it,” Dack reassured him.

***

She offered her parents her bedroom for the night and was pleased when they accepted.

“I didn’t want you guys driving back late,” Sarah explained. “Besides, I’ve gotten used to the recliner. One more night is fine.”

“I really like Jodie,” her mother mentioned as she rinsed plates before putting them in the dishwasher. “And you’re right. She’s a lot like my mom.”

“Yep,” Marty agreed. “I’m glad you met her, kiddo. Nice to know you’ve got someone here you can count on.”

“She’s great,” Sarah nodded. “And she was also telling me about this local writers’ group. I may go see what that’s all about at some point.”

“Oh, most definitely keep up with your writing, dear. It’s brilliant,” Bethany told her. “As a matter of fact, I’m a bit shocked you chose accounting as your degree path.”

“Because at least with an accounting degree I know I can find a stable full-time job,” Sarah pointed out. “It’s going to be a lot easier to support myself. Besides, I can still write. I’m not giving it up; I’m just not counting on it to pay my bills. Yet.”

“That’s smart,” her father said, and patted her shoulder. “Really smart, Sarah. I’m proud of you.”

***

Once her parents had retired for the night, Sarah sat down in her recliner with Tim’s letter in her hand. She stared at the envelope a long while, noticing it had been postmarked from Fort Hood over a week earlier. She turned it round and round in her hands as she summoned the courage to open it.

Sarah closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, then eased the single page out of the envelope and began to read.

By the time this letter gets to you I will probably be overseas, Sarah, it began. I wanted to be able to tell you face-to-face that I was being deployed, but that chance is gone now.

What the hell happened to us, baby? I’ve re-read the note you left me so many times now, but I still don’t understand it. Whatever you heard was wrong, Sarah. It’s always been you, always – and it always will be.

I lie awake at night wondering where you are, if you’re safe, if you’re happy. I miss everything about you, and the thought of never seeing you, never holding you again hurts so bad I can barely breathe.

I just hope that once I get back, we can talk this out. Because I am still head over heels in love with you, Sarah Genard, and I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.

I still have your ring. I’ll keep it safe until the day I get to put it back where it belongs – on your left hand.

Sarah gently set the letter down in her lap, her heart yearning to believe him while her mind raced, replaying what she had witnessed that contradicted everything he said. Conflicted, her soul in tatters, she covered her face with her hands and cried.

***

The next morning, Marty made his signature pecan waffles and sausages for his wife and daughter, as he had on so many Sunday mornings before. He cast a glance at Sarah, noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and raised an eyebrow. But she only shook her head sadly.

“Coffee?” he offered, attempting to break the silent tension thickening the air.

“Yes, please,” Bethany said.

“I’ll stick with juice, I think,” Sarah replied.

“One coffee, one juice, coming up.”

Marty set each drink on the kitchen table before pulling the last waffle from the iron and adding it to the stack. Then he carried the food to the table and took the seat next to Sarah.

“Rough night?” he prodded.

“I read Tim’s letter,” she mumbled.

“Oh,” Marty answered, unsure whether to ask more questions.

Sarah let out a sigh.

“Here’s what happened,” she began, and told her parents her side of the story.

“Oh my,” Bethany said, her eyes wide with sympathy. “I can see why you reacted the way you did, then.”

“Yep, completely understandable,” Marty confirmed. “Sounds pretty black and white to me. Except for the fact that Tim was…”

“Crushed,” Bethany filled in the gap. “He was absolutely crushed – and genuinely confused, Sarah.”

“I don’t understand why, given what I just told you.”

“There must be some piece of the puzzle that’s missing,” her mother suggested. “Something we aren’t aware of. And you two talking it out may provide that piece, honey.”

“But he’s overseas now, so we can’t talk about it. And what if… what if something happens to him and he doesn’t come back?” Sarah managed to say before she broke down.

Marty put his arm around her shoulders as her mother reached over for her hand.

“You just have to have faith he’ll come home safely,” Marty told her. “And when he does, you two need to talk. That’s the only way you’re going to know if what you witnessed is what it seemed to be.”