01.0 Soldier On

by Sydney Logan

  So far, so good.

  Tessa and Xavier are here, too. They both graduated this morning—she with her degree in Culinary Arts and Xavier with his in Sports Management. Tomorrow, they’re off to Chicago, but they wanted to stay for my ROTC ceremony. They’ve become two of my best friends, and they constantly remind me that blood doesn’t make you family.

  And of course there’s Steph, in a black dress and a pair of killer heels that make me wonder why she doesn’t wear heels more often. She’s sitting next to my dad, holding his hand. Cynthia, her mom, is right by her side.

  Another reminder that blood doesn’t make you family.

  The colonel asks us to stand and raise our right hand. One by one, we repeat after him, taking our oath of office as appointed second lieutenants in the United States Army.

  “Cadet Walker will now be pinned by his father, Major General Bruce Walker, and his sister, Ms. Christian Young.”

  I stand stock still while my sister helps Dad to the front of the stage. Stepping forward, I smile at them as the colonel begins to speak once again.

  “Brandon Lee Walker graduates today as both a distinguished military graduate and Magna Cum Laude with a Bachelor of Science degree in Computer Engineering. He is receiving the United States Army commission of second lieutenant and will attend Signal Corps Training at Fort Gordon this summer.”

  While the colonel tells the audience my future goals, during and after my military service, my dad, steady and strong, pins my insignia to each of my shoulders. He takes a step back, his eyes ghosting over my uniform while my sister hugs me. When she steps away, I look to my father once again and wonder if he even knows where he is. If he recognizes me. If he understands the significance of this moment—to him and to me.

  Suddenly, his face turns stoic and his body is ramrod straight as he lifts his hand to his brow.

  And then he salutes me.

  My eyes swim with tears as I lift my hand to salute my father.

  There’s applause, but it’s all white noise, because my dad steps closer to me. With his eyes shining with clarity, he smiles before wrapping his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

  “I’m proud of you, Brandon,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion.

  In that moment, I know he is here . . . alert and aware. Proud and happy. And he just hugged me. I can’t remember the last time my dad hugged me.

  And that makes today one of the best days of my life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Stephanie

  Today is one of the worst days of my life.

  Mom says I’m being melodramatic. It’s just twelve weeks. It’s not like he’s going to Iraq. Or Afghanistan. Or some other war-torn country where people are just waiting to shoot at him.

  He’s going to Georgia. What could possibly happen to him in Georgia?

  With a sigh, I toss a pebble into the pond and watch it ripple with the breeze. I love this pond. I love the mountains. And I’m pretty sure there’s nothing prettier than a Kentucky sunrise. This morning I watched, fascinated, as the sky turned from blood-red to orange, with swirls of pink and blue brushed across the horizon’s edge.

  Will a Georgia sunrise be just as pretty?

  I can’t imagine it.

  Of course, I can’t imagine a lot of things. Like how Brandon’s two-week leave ends today. Or, how tomorrow night, he’ll be sleeping at Fort Gordon, and I’ll be back home in Indiana.

  Last week, Brandon and I had moved all my belongings, including my cat, back to Mom’s house. We didn’t stay long, mainly because I wanted Brandon to spend as much time with his family as possible. Selfishly, and because neither of us can stand to be away from the other for more than a day, I followed him home to Applewood.

  It hasn’t really been a relaxing time for anyone.

  Mr. Walker has had some rough nights, which means the rest of us have, too. Even though the trip to graduation was a definite success, he just hasn’t been the same since his return home. His bad days outnumber his good, and I can’t help but wonder what kind of father will be waiting for Brandon when he gets back from AIT.

  A lot can happen in twelve weeks.

  “There you are.”

  I look over my shoulder to find Brandon walking onto the dock.

  “How was your run?”

  He sits down beside me. “It was good. Why are you up so early?”

  “I love the Kentucky sunrise. I’m going to miss it.”

  “I’ll miss it, too.”

  “I was just wondering if a Georgia sunrise would be just as pretty.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  I smile. “And the bed was cold.”

  “Steph, it’s summer.”

  “The bed was still cold.”

  He grins and leans over, kissing me on the cheek.

  “I guess I need to get used to it, huh? Cold beds, I mean.”

  Brandon dips his head and kisses my shoulder. “I’m afraid so. For the next twelve weeks, anyway.”

  “And after that?”

  I shouldn’t ask, because I know the answer. After that, if I want a warm bed, we’ll have to get married. The United States Army won’t let us live in sin.

  “After that is up to you, Steph.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Brandon sighs and looks out across the water. “It just means I’m going to miss you. And when I get back, I’m going to want you in my bed all the time.”

  “But you have to live in the barracks.”

  “Yep. Unless . . .”

  Unless we get married.

  “Breakfast is ready!” Christian yells from the porch.

  Brandon sighs and takes my hand, helping me to my feet. He doesn’t say it, but I know what he’s thinking.

  It’s his last day home, and he wants it to be a good one.

  I don’t pray a lot, but as we walk hand in hand toward the house, I find myself doing just that.

  Please let Mr. Walker have a good day. Please let Brandon have a proper goodbye with his dad. And please don’t let me spoil it with my tears.

  Brandon spends the afternoon rolling around on the floor with his nieces and having quiet talks with his dad. He also makes sure that Christian can use the video chat program on her laptop so they can talk while he’s at AIT. For dinner, Christian and I make Brandon’s favorite meal—fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Once dinner is over and the dishes are cleared, Christian helps Mr. Walker to bed while Uncle Brandon reads a bedtime story to the girls.

  This gives me the chance to do what I’ve wanted to do all day.

  I walk up to Brandon’s bedroom, close the door, sit down on his bed, and cry like a baby.

  Because it’s hit me. It really hits me that he’s going to be gone for three months. After that, he will be gone for even longer, and there’s a chance I won’t be able to go with him.

  What if I can’t go? What if I only see him a few weeks each year? Can we handle that? Can our relationship survive that?

  I don’t even know he’s in the room until I feel him kneel at my feet.

  “Hey,” he whispers. “What is this?”

  I wipe my eyes. “This is me being a baby, and I’m sorry. I’ve tried to be tough. I have tried to hold it in, but it finally just hit me. I’m sorry that I can’t be strong like you.”

  He takes my hands in his. “I’m not strong, Steph. I just keep telling myself it’s twelve weeks. Three months and I’ll be back. I’ll get a few weeks leave, maybe even a whole month, before I have to report to my post. And I pray it’s close to home, Steph. I pray it’s close to you. So I’m not strong. I’m just doing what you told me to do.”

  “What did I tell you to do?”

  “You told me to have faith. You said that we will make it work, no matter what.”

  I nod. “I did say that.”

  “Yes, you did.” He gently wipes my tears away with his fingertips. “And after AIT, and once we know where my post will be, you and I need to have a serious conversation
about the future.”

  My teary eyes widen. “Didn’t we already have one of those?”

  “We did, but I think it’s time to have another one. I love you, Steph. And if Dad’s disease is teaching me anything, it’s that you have to choose to be happy, because one day your body, or your mind, may take that choice away from. I love you. I’m never going to love anybody else. My family loves you. And I want you in my life, no matter where I am. No matter what it takes.”

  Fresh tears trickle down my cheek.

  “Brandon Walker, don’t you dare propose to me. Not now. Not right before you leave.”

  “Okay.”

  I frown.

  He smirks.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay. You told me not to propose to you, so I won’t.”

  “But you were going to?”

  He shrugs. “I thought about it.”

  Seriously? “But I thought . . . I thought you said we weren’t ready.”

  Brandon kisses my tear-stained cheeks before pushing me back against the mattress and crawling up my body. We kiss, his mouth moving against my lips and along my skin with a frantic urgency, as if he’s memorizing every inch of me.

  “Maybe we aren’t ready to get married tonight,” Brandon murmurs against my throat. “But I know one thing for certain.”

  “What’s that?”

  His eyes find mine in the darkness, and he smiles.

  “I bet we’ll be ready in twelve weeks,” he whispers.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Stephanie

  “Don’t you think it’s time you joined the rest of the world?”

  I place my bookmark against the page before looking up at my mom.

  “I’m outside. What more do you want?”

  She sits down beside me. “Well, I’d like for you to take a shower, get dressed, and do something today besides sit on this porch and read books that make you cry.”

  I don’t tell her it’s not the books that make me cry. They’re just a convenient and plausible excuse.

  “It’s been six weeks, Steph. You’re halfway there.”

  “I’m aware of the calendar. Trust me.”

  “Remember what Brandon said on the phone last night?”

  I sigh.

  “He will be very disappointed if I don’t do something fun this summer. He doesn’t want me to sit around being all depressed.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So we won’t tell him.”

  Mom smiles.

  “I must say, you do seem to be sleeping better.”

  Not really. My body had finally just surrendered to exhaustion. The first few weeks after Brandon left had been torture, especially at night. I’d gotten too accustomed to having him beside me.

  “The bed was too cold,” I whisper.

  She doesn’t ask what that means. I think if anyone can understand the concept of an empty bed, it’s my mom.

  “I don’t know how you do it, Mom. And I don’t know how you’ve done it for the past twenty-two years.”

  Mom takes my hand. “I had you to help keep my bed warm.”

  “So what you’re saying is I need a kid.”

  Her eyes grow wide.

  “Relax. I’m kidding.”

  She sighs heavily and pushes off with her feet, making the porch swing sway in the summer breeze.

  “I was thinking that you and I should maybe have a talk about that,” Mom says.

  “A talk about what?”

  “Kids.”

  I’m not stupid. She doesn’t want to talk about kids. She wants to talk about sex, and she wants to know if I’m having it. While my brain screams that I’m twenty-two years old and it’s really none of her business, I can’t ignore the fact that this is my mom, and we’ve never had any secrets.

  “No worries, Mom. I’m still the virginal daughter I’ve always been.”

  Virginal, but not entirely innocent.

  I can tell by the expression on her face she doesn’t believe me. It hurts a little, but then I consider the fact that Brandon and I are adults and have been roommates for nearly four months. Of course she assumes.

  “Seriously, Mom. Brandon and I talked about it. No matter how much we were tempted, we decided to wait. Then Tessa got pregnant and I was so relieved we waited. Until we know for sure where he’ll be and that we can be together, I’m just too afraid to chance it. Plus, I can’t imagine . . . being that close and then having to say goodbye.”

  “It’s torture,” Mom whispers.

  Tears fill my eyes.

  She clears her throat. “I’m very glad to hear that you’re waiting, Stephanie, because I would hate . . .”

  “You’d hate what?”

  “I would hate for history to repeat itself.”

  I frown.

  “Stephanie, I haven’t been entirely honest with you about something, and I’m only doing it now because I want you to keep it in mind when Brandon returns from leave. When he comes home, the two of you are going to want to . . . be close. And I know you say that you want to be responsible and wait until you’re sure you can be together on a permanent basis, but take it from someone who knows. Hormones take over. Love takes over. And any thought of being noble and responsible just . . . disappears.”

  I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. She bows her head and takes a deep breath.

  “Your father and I loved each other very much. That was never a question. But he wasn’t eager to get married right after high school. Not as eager as I was, anyway. He had already proposed. I had a ring on my finger. But he was perfectly content to have a long engagement. At that time, he wanted to be a soldier more than he wanted to be a husband.

  “What changed his mind?”

  Mom eyes swim with tears.

  “You did.”

  I blink. What?

  “The only reason the two of you got married was because you were pregnant with me?”

  “The reason we got married before he went to Basic was because I was pregnant, yes.”

  I narrow my eyes. “But you always told me you found out you were pregnant while he was gone to Basic.”

  “That’s what I told you, yes. That’s what we told everyone.”

  “Why did you lie?”

  “We were afraid of disappointing our parents—”

  “No. Why did you lie to me?”

  She sighs. “Because you are my daughter, and you already carried enough grief on your shoulders. I know you, Stephanie. If I had told you the truth, you would’ve always wondered if the only reason your father and I got married was because I was pregnant with you. And you would somehow twist that into believing that it’s your fault I’m alone.”

  “But it is my fault you’re alone. If I hadn’t come along, you would have married someone else.”

  “See, I knew you’d make that leap.”

  “It’s not a leap. It’s the truth.” I shake my head in amazement. “Anyway, why are you telling me this now? Why would you keep this from me all my life and choose to tell me now?”

  “Because I see the way you and Brandon look at each other. I watch his eyes glaze over whenever you walk into a room. And I’ve heard you cry yourself to sleep for the past six weeks. I just want you to be prepared for the rollercoaster of emotions you’re going to feel when he comes home.”

  The phone rings, and Mom leans over to kiss the top of my head before walking back into the house.

  I wish I could say the remaining six weeks are a blur, but every single second crawls along like an inchworm. At Brandon’s insistence, I apply for teaching positions at a few of the junior high and high schools in and around Indianapolis. The chances of him being stationed in Indiana are slim, so I’m not at all heartbroken when my resumes and applications go unnoticed by the local school boards.

  During our last call, Brandon told me that some of the soldiers had received news about their first post. Some are staying at Fort Gordon. Others are headed overseas. A buddy of Brandon’s from Montana is being sen
t to Fort Knox, Kentucky.

  If only we could get so lucky.

  While we wait for news, I glue myself to my laptop, learning everything I can about Army bases, particularly the ones with schools. I make a list of job opportunities at some of the regional bases, like Fort Knox, Fort Campbell, and where Brandon’s currently training, Fort Gordon. I check real estate in the areas, and then, just to have all the information, I spend some time learning everything I can about actually living on base.

  One night, I even find an online chat devoted to Army wives.

  I create an account. I don’t want to lie, so I don’t introduce myself. I tell them I’m just there to listen. So that’s what I do. I listen to their stories, and I’m blown away by the sacrifices they make each and every day. Despite the struggles, and there are many, these women still talk about their husbands with such love and pride.

  I’m lying across my bed, with Bangle by my side. I’ve just logged in to the group when my video chat screen pops up.

  Incoming call from Brandon.

  Feeling giddy, I quickly log out and accept the call. The screen flickers to life, and then he’s there, smiling at me with his dimples and camo cap.

  “Hey, babe.”

  He’s started calling me babe. It’s the cutest thing ever.

  “Hey.”

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. Too excited. I was going to send you a text, but then I saw that you were online. You okay?”

  “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fantastic.”

  “Fantastic?”

  “Couldn’t be happier. Well, I could be . . .”

  I grin.

  “What’s made you so happy?”

  “I have news.”

  My mouth goes dry.

  “Good news?”

  He nods. “I think so. Remember our last day at my dad’s? When you asked if a Georgia sunrise could be as pretty as a Kentucky dawn?”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “You’re gonna get the chance to find out.”