“Ahhh!” My mom yells from across the booth. Kate jumps.
For a second I forgot we had an audience. But I don’t care that my parents saw our conversation. I’m not ashamed to love Kate and want her to be my wife.
Mom claps her hands with delight. “I always knew you two would get together. I just knew if Ethan held out long enough, you would come around.”
Kate turns red. It’s going to take her a long time to live that down.
“Sorry, sorry, I know you embarrass easily.” My mom reaches across the table to pat Kate’s hand. “Let’s talk about your birthdays. Ethan, you’re going to miss it again this year, so I’ll have Kate blow out the candles for both of you. But next year the ritual continues.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute her. I’m looking forward to the day when Kate and I can celebrate a birthday together again. It’s been three years since we blew out each other’s candles.
When it’s time to go, we linger over goodbye’s in the parking lot. Kate offers to let my parents take me to the airport, but I shoot her a dirty look.
“I don’t want to say goodbye to you in a diner parking lot,” I whisper sternly in her ear.
My mom, being the very aware person that she is, declines Kate’s offer. “We have some errands to run. It’s okay. You take him.”
Dad leans in for a quick hug, clapping me on the back with a few loud smacks. He’s not a fan of long goodbyes. According to him, the best breaks are clean, and he always says goodbye the same way. Quick hug, three claps on the back, and a gruff “I love you, son.”
Mom’s a different story. I have to unwrap her heavy arms and step back from her. Dad goes to stand behind her, winding his arms around her waist. His purpose is probably to hold her back, but he’s doing it under the guise of being a supportive husband.
“I’ll call you soon, Mom. I love you, and I’ll be home before you know it. Ten more months, and it’s finished. I’ll never have to go back again.”
We climb in Kate’s car, still waving and saying goodbye. The sun pours in my open window.
“I’ll come by soon to visit,” Kate promises my mom.
She nods, sniffling, trying to smile.
“I’ll call you when I get to Germany,” I tell her. I’ve already said this a dozen times this morning, but reminding her doesn’t hurt.
Her smile is weak. She’s crying too hard to talk anymore. As a unit my parents take a step back.
I wave as Kate puts the car in drive and heads for the 101.
***
The airport comes into view, and suddenly, it looks like the enemy. Its goal is to take me away from Kate and send me to a desolate land filled with people who want to do me harm.
“I liked this place a whole lot more when I was here ten days ago.” My dislike grows as Kate takes the ramp up to the Terminal Four parking garage.
Kate’s voice is soft. “Me too.”
She finds a spot on the fifth level and parks. Neither of us make a move.
“I don’t want to get out.” I stare out past the half wall of concrete at the mountain range in front of us. It looks too much like the place I’m headed.
“So don’t.” There’s challenge in her voice.
We both ignore her statement. Being AWOL is the last thing we need.
Just ten months. If anybody can do it, Kate can. She’s strong and loyal. Kate can Master it.
I turn my gaze from the mountains to her beautiful face. “This has been the best trip. Way better than all my other trips home, combined.” I tug gently on the ponytail hanging over her shoulder.
“That’s only because I let you kiss me this time.” She tries to smile, but it doesn't develop into a real grin.
“That certainly had something to do with it.” I hope my joke disguises how bleak I feel.
I listen to her laugh, work it into my memory, even though I already know all her laughs by heart. I’m adding this exact moment to my memory bank, cataloguing the view of the brown mountains, coupled with the smell of Kate’s sweet scented lotion and the feel of the cool air as it flows from the air conditioning.
How am I supposed to say goodbye to her? She’s taken me to the airport plenty of other times, and our goodbyes were always sad then, too, but this one is different.
“How do we do this, Ethan?” Kate’s on my wave-length, as usual.
I think for a minute, then say, “I have a plan.”
Kate loves plans. She likes parameters she can exist within.
“I’m going to get my bag out of your trunk, and leave it next to your car. After that I’m going to get back in my seat, kiss you, whisper a few sweet nothings in your ear, and say goodbye. Then I’ll pick up my bag and walk inside.” I raise my eyebrows at her, silently asking if she agrees.
She nods and looks relieved.
I do exactly what I said I would do. She pops open the trunk and watches in the rearview mirror as I remove my duffel and set it up against the side of the car. Then I get back in and sink into the seat with an audible thud.
“So.” I turn to her, but I stop talking when I see her face. Her features are taut as she tries to hold herself together.
“Please don’t cry, Katie.”
“I’m not crying.”
Liar.
I don’t argue. Instead, I reach for her face, gently cupping her cheeks in my hands.
“I’ll be back before you know it. Ten months, that’s it. Then it’s game on. Me and you.” My voice rings with conviction.
Tears slip down her face, and I have to fight my own urge to cry. Kate needs another plan.
“Let’s take a vacation when I get back. We can spend some time alone together. No distractions. We could go to Mexico? Or maybe Park City? It’ll be winter when I get back.”
Kate looks at me, a little pout pulling on her lower lip. “I know what you’re doing. It’s working.”
I kiss her with a passion that consumes me. The fire in me fills her, the car, the whole damn airport. Every part of me is aflame as I kiss her. All the while, I silently pray it won’t be the last time. And if it is… I've taken measures to make sure she's cared for.
She’s breathless when I pull away. My mouth drifts over her cheek and to her ear. “Wait for me. I’ll come for you.” Tears sting my eyes.
“Stay,” she murmurs.
If only I could.
“We’ll get through this, and then it’s me and you, forever. I love you.” I’m trying to be strong, but a tear sneaks out and rolls down my cheek.
“I love you, Ethan.”
“The time will fly by, and I’ll be home soon. I love you,” I say it again, because oh my God, I finally can.
“I love you, too.” Her trickle of tears is now a gush.
I kiss her one more time and get out of the car. I swing the duffel over my shoulder and walk. Each step moves me farther away from her, and closer to the danger awaiting me.
I don’t look back. My situation has been decided, chosen by me three years ago. I knew what I was signing up for. I have a duty to uphold. I’m nothing if not loyal.
9
Kate
Ninety-one days marked off on the Waiting for Ethan calendar. Two hundred four more days to go. Time has taken on a whole new meaning to me now that I’m counting it. Every sunrise and sunset is quantifiable.
The first few days after he left were the hardest, but I began to feel better as my life slowly settled back into routine. I’ve been an all-star at work. I was running every morning until it got too hot. I visit Evie and James, I go shopping and hiking with Harper, and to dinner with my mom. I have Skype dates with Ethan on Mondays and Thursdays, unless he can’t make it. Which happens frequently.
His emails are daily unless he’s on a mission. Sometimes they’re long and read like love letters, and other times they are short and sweet. I cherish every one of them.
Today is Thursday, so I’ve been antsy all day waiting for the work day to be over with. I have a six p.m. date with my boyfri
end, and I can’t wait. I did my work with one eye on the clock at all times, watching the minute hand move at a tortoise’s speed. Finally, after an interminably long day, the clock struck five, and I hurried away from my desk.
The second I get into my apartment, I change out of my uncomfortable work clothes and toss down leftover chicken enchiladas from two nights ago. I hand Harper a plate of food and head for my room. I’m settled on my bed with my laptop, but I’m ten minutes early, so I kill time by perusing the day’s news.
At six on the dot, I open up Skype and wait for Ethan.
Two minutes later, I get what I’ve been impatiently waiting for all day. One click of a button, and Ethan’s face appears on my screen. He’s smiling, but I can see by the set of his eyebrows something’s bothering him.
“Hi, babe.” His deep voice reaches through the computer and into my chest, triggering the warm feeling I always get when I hear it.
I wave enthusiastically. “Hello to you!”
“How are you?” Ethan asks. “How was work?” For the millionth time, I’m thankful for technology. It’s as if he’s here. Almost, anyway.
I smile as I take in the sight of his black hair and golden caramel eyes. In seven months Ethan will be here, and we can finally start the life we're meant to share.
“Thursdays are always long.”
“Because you can’t wait until it’s Friday?” Ethan loves probing me. The familiar flame of embarrassment creeps onto my face, heating my cheeks. I really need to stop it with this embarrassment crap. I have nothing to be embarrassed about. As always, Ethan takes notice of my enflamed cheeks.
“Why are you blushing?”
“Because my impatience on Thursdays has nothing to do with excitement for the end of the work week. I feel the same impatience on Mondays. All day long I know I’m going to see you, and I watch the clock, and every minute that passes feels like an hour.”
Ethan grins. “I watch the clock, too.”
“We’ll only be watching the clock for a little while longer. Thank God.”
“I know.” The little flare of annoyance I noticed at the beginning of our call comes onto his face again.
“Something is bothering you. Care to share?”
A short sigh rushes from him. “I'm leaving for a mission today. They just sprang it on me, and they won’t tell us how long we’ll be gone, so I might miss Monday’s date. Hell, I might miss Thursday’s too. I have no way of knowing.” Ethan exhales loudly. “Sorry.” He adds in a smaller voice.
“You don’t have to be sorry. I understand. Besides, it won’t be for much longer, you know? A handful of months, and this will all be over. No more missions, no more Skype dates, no more nights apart.” And what a glorious thing it will be to close the miles that separate us.
His irritation lingers, so I distract him with stories of gossip around my office.
“Crazy, right?” I’ve just divulged the latest scandal circulating the cubes.
“Better than a soap opera. Tell me about our birthday dinner last night. Did my mom make two cakes or one?”
“Two, of course. And we cut a slice out of your cake and put a candle in it. I blew out mine and yours.”
“What did you wish for?”
“Not telling,” I sing-song.
“Aw, come on. I didn't get to blow out your candle, so technically you can't make a wish on my cake if I can't make a wish on yours.”
“I made two wishes, one for each of us. Just like I did last year when you missed our party. And the year before that.”
Ethan frowns. “Next year I won't miss it.”
I beam. Having Ethan home for our traditional joint birthday party will be the very best gift. Speaking of gift… “Thanks for my present. I love it.” I pull the gold necklace away from my throat and study the inscription on the front of the bar. Me & You.
“It looks beautiful on you.”
“Thanks. Your gift should arrive soon. Hopefully you won’t be gone too long on this mission. I’m excited for you to see what I got you.” He’s going to love the fancy knife I picked out with his dad’s help. It has all the little tools he’ll need (according to his dad) plus an incredibly sharp knife. And I had his initials engraved on it. That part was my idea.
Ethan looks upset again, so I blurt out the first question that comes to mind. “What is the first thing you want to do when you get home?”
“Kiss you.” His answer comes right on the heels of my question.
“Well, duh.” I laugh. “What do you want to do after that?”
“Hold your hand. Smell your hair. Kiss you again. Not necessarily in that order.” Ethan offers one of his brightest smiles.
My heart flip-flops at the prospect of what he’s talking about. “All right, all right, you scored some points with those answers.”
Ethan makes a fist and playfully pumps it in the air in front of him. “Yes.”
“Ethan, do you think if I snapped my fingers twice you could come through my computer and be here, in my living room? I would like that very much, thank you.”
“If it were possible, I would’ve already done it.” He glances at the watch on his wrist and sighs again, this time louder than before. “I have to go. I need to be ready to leave in fifteen minutes. I hate this.” The sad look on Ethan’s face makes my heart twist.
“Go keep me safe, and before you know it, we’ll be having another Skype date.”
Ethan grins. “Don’t forget Nick will be out there next week.”
“I haven’t forgotten. Just email me all his info, and I’ll be the best tour guide there is.”
“Consider it done.” He looks at his watch and sighs again. “I’ll be home soon, and then we can be together. I love you.” He says it without pageantry, and yet the emotions behind the words are evident on his face.
My heart soars. How did I get so lucky?
“I love you too.” With one stiff, reluctant finger, I hit the end button. Ethan’s lopsided grin is frozen on the screen for two seconds before it fades to black.
I close the computer and lay back against my pillows. Eyes shut, I picture Ethan’s myriad expressions during our call. His laughter at my stories and frustration with going on this mission. I open my eyes when the whir of the ceiling fan’s blades lifts a paper off my bulletin board and scrapes it against the wall.
I watch the blades rotate until they make me dizzy. How many days will I have to go before I talk to Ethan again? It’s only been five minutes, and already, I miss him. If I sit around and check my email all day long, I’ll go crazy. I need to make plans. I need to have things to do, so I’ll still be a sane person when Ethan returns from his mission.
The gym.
That’s it. They swipe fifty dollars from my checking account every month, I might as well go. Okay, this is good. Gym.
I hop off my bed and grab the gym bag hanging on the back of my closet door. When it’s packed, I place it directly in front of my bedroom door. I might trip over it, but I won’t forget it. I officially have a hot date with the gym after work tomorrow.
***
“So, you don’t know when you’ll hear from Ethan again?” Harper looks at me, her expression incredulous as she scoops a mound of guacamole with her tortilla chip.
“It’s not like it’ll be a year.” My eyes strain with my effort to keep them from rolling. I look around the Mexican restaurant and back to Harper.
“It just seems like it would be really hard to not have any idea where he is.” She points out the obvious without looking at me.
“No, it’s great, I love it,” I say under my breath.
Harper either doesn’t hear me or ignores me. With unparalleled focus, she builds another tortilla-guacamole mountain. She’s still chewing her first creation, so she hands the food to me.
“Have some guac. You’re being punchy.”
She’s right, as irritating as that is. All my big plans to stay busy aren’t proving to be enough to keep me from sulking. And it�
�s only been forty-eight hours since I last spoke to Ethan.
“I’m worried.” I conjure up the image of Ethan in his helmet, his Kevlar vest, and fatigues.
He’s safe. That’s what I tell myself. Because he has to be. Anything else is inconceivable.
In my head I cloak his image in a prayer for his safety.
“Kate, put the food in your mouth,” Harper instructs, her eyes wide with annoyed exasperation.
I do as I’m told, but my stomach wants to reject it. My core feels sick. Heavy.
I shake my head, like somehow that’s supposed to stop the worry. “I’m sure he’s fine. He didn’t talk about this mission like it was anything special. It’s probably just like every other one he’s been on.” My words are meant to reassure me, but they don’t.
“Probably,” Harper agrees quickly. “It’s great that Ethan’s looking out for our safety. I, for one, feel very safe eating all this wonderful Mexican food.” Harper motions to the rest of the restaurant.
“Don’t choke on that chip,” I warn as she crunches through another tortilla chip. “He’s not here to give you the Heimlich.”
My joke causes Harper to laugh, and then she actually starts coughing over her food. She sucks down all the water in her glass to recover from the fit.
I burst out laughing at the sight of my beautiful roommate looking less than poised. She grabs my water glass and downs it.
We’re waiting for the check when Harper shocks me.
“I always thought you’d develop feelings for Ethan,” she says with confidence.
My eyes narrow. “You lie. Such a thought never went through that pretty little head of yours. You’ve been my roommate for three years, and not once did you argue when I said Ethan was just my friend.” Harper loves to argue. And she loves to talk. There is no way she would've kept quiet.
“I thought it, I just never said it. It was so obvious. Every time he came home, you were attached at the hip. And you couldn’t stand when another person, and by person I mean girl, expressed any interest, not that he noticed anyone else anyway. You just needed time. A lot more than I thought you would need, but you finally came around.”
The Day He Went Away Page 8