I’ll close for now. Can’t wait to hear from you.
Your friend,
Molly
I felt the smile creasing my face as my eyes roved over her words. Now that I had an image to go with her letter, it was so easy to see Molly’s quick grin and sparkling blue eyes as she wrote the words. It was strange to feel a warmth deep inside, thinking about the amount of time she had taken to pick out books just for me and write the note she snuck in hoping I’d be the one to get to it first.
Leaning back against my pillow, propped next to the headboard, I held her picture in one hand with her letter in the other. We’d been emailing for months but seeing her neat, cursive writing made her seem so much more real.
How easy would it be to stop by Charlottesville when I get out? A month prior, that thought would have shocked me, but now it seemed right. Friends…just friends…for now. Reading the letter over again, I realized she had not included her mailing address. Oh, of course not, since there was the possibility someone else would have read it first. I’d ask her in my next email.
Todd walked in, falling down on the bunk across from me, an open box in his hands. I looked over, envious as he pulled out a bag of cookies.
“Your mom?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Grinning through a large bite, he nodded and tossed the bag to me after taking another one out. “Hell, yeah. And damn, if she doesn’t make the best cookies!”
Pulling a large chocolate chip cookie out and sampling it myself, I had to agree. It was absolutely fucking good.
He looked over to the book on my lap and smirked. “You still writing to your little librarian?”
Not falling into his banter, I eyed him while flipping him off.
“Methinks you doth protest too much!” he cackled.
Giving in to the urge to chuckle, I replied, “Hell, I didn’t know you could quote the classics! Do you even know where that quote came from?”
“Hell, no,” he admitted, still laughing. “But I don’t see why you don’t just admit you’ve got a serious hard-on for the librarian!”
“Not gonna dignify that comment that with an answer.”
Sobering, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and faced me, his gaze pinning mine. “You know, Brody…you get out in a few months. There’s no reason not to consider looking her up in person. Hell, man, of any of us here, you deserve someone.”
Nodding my appreciation, I rubbed my chin as I pondered his words. “I don’t know. I mean it’s nice emailing and talking about books, but what if that’s all. What the hell do I have to offer?”
“Seriously? Jesus, you’re a medic who saves lives. I’d think she’d consider herself lucky.”
“Okay, then, what if I meet her and there’s nothing there. That I find out the only thing we have in common is enjoying the same books?”
“So what?” Todd countered. “Lots of relationships start off with less in common than that.”
“So when did you become the relationship guru?” I shot back, my grin now plastered across my face.
This time he flipped me off as he lay back, stuffing in another cookie. “Hey, my advice is free,” he quipped. “Take it or leave it.”
As I sat on my bed, the open book still in my lap, I thought about his words.
Fuckin’ hell!! The helicopter couldn’t land because of the mountainous terrain so we needed to drop our chief medic down in a hoist. I was on duty with Todd and that meant he had to go. An Apache bird flew in to secure the area since enemy fire was still taking place. I leaned out of the open door, holding fast to an overhead bar as I watched him lowered to the ground soldiers waiting below.
As Todd made it down, I informed the pilots of his whereabouts considering they were unable to see from the side of the aircraft. I watched as they secured the injured soldier, and we hoisted him into the bird and then reset for Todd.
Pulling my chief medic up, I felt the bird tremor as the winds whipped around us. As soon as he was secure in the hoist, I gave the signal for the pilot to get us out of there. I observed the two Apaches swooping in, laying more fire power below.
Fuck! I called it too soon! Shouting out the call for the pilots to wait, I worked on getting Todd up but he was now dangling at an odd angle. He must be unconscious.
The Apaches came in once more, giving us a chance to get airborne without getting shot at again.
Needing to check on Todd as well as the patient, I made another snap decision. Todd had regained consciousness once inside the helicopter and appeared lucid, so I moved to the patient. Immediately stepping to the soldier, I fought to find a place for an IV, but his arms and hands had burns. Running out of time, I got one started in his leg, but as the bird banked a sharp turn, the IV pulled out and I lost my balance, landing on my ass. “Goddammit!” I cursed, leaping up and repeating the action to get the IV into a vein, then taping it before it could come out again.
I worked methodically, but the soldier’s pulse was fading. I looked down at his head injury and, for an instant, I thought about the extent of damage then shook my head, clearing those thoughts. Stay in the moment. That’s what we constantly told ourselves. We can’t dictate what happens once the patient leaves our care, but for the twenty-minute ride…we can control this time.
The pilot landed smoothly back at the base now that we were out of the high winds and as soon as the door opened, I welcomed the hospital staff that took over. For the first time, I had a chance to check on my chief medic. “Todd? How bad is it?”
The explosion had sent some shrapnel into his leg. As we cut his pants off it became clear the injuries were deep. Damn, he could have severed an artery and I didn’t check.
“Shit man, you should have told me you were this bad,” I cursed as I called for another stretcher.
“You had your hands full,” he replied, grimacing as we put pressure to stop the bleeding.
Patching him up, another stretcher came out to get him. “I’m fuckin’ walkin’ in,” he complained, until an officer ordered him on the stretcher. With a wave, I watched as he flipped me off, laughing.
I sat on the bird for a long time, my mind churning over the events of the past half hour. Did I make the right calls? What could I have done differently? We would need to reschedule our shifts with Todd out of the rotation until healed. Bone weary as the adrenaline faded from my system, I began to restock our supplies.
I ditched my blood soaked boots and uniform when I arrived back at the command center, grabbing an extra ACU I kept there. Hitting the showers at the center, I soon felt clean, but thoughts of my decision pounded through my head. I fucked up—I did not thoroughly check my medic…friend…and he could have bled to death. The image of the other soldier who might not make it through the night—and if he did, what kind of brain damage he would be left with—had me hating my job at the moment.
Leaving the shower, I wandered for a while through the rows of dirt-tan tents, with no particular destination in mind. Not finding solace in my thoughts, I headed to the MWR to email Molly. The desire to talk to her, even if only by email, was too strong to deny.
Our emails had become more personal, sharing more than just our love of books. I began emailing after a hard shift, unburdening myself, and was thrilled when I received her encouraging email in return. It was a dangerous pursuit, knowing that I could be setting myself up for heartache. Somehow, over the past several months, she had wormed herself into my life. And I could not stop myself from wondering if she felt the same.
Chapter 7
(July – Molly)
“Come in.”
I opened Susan’s door and stepped in gingerly. Her gaze lifted from the files on the desk to my face and she smiled.
“Do you have a minute?” I asked, wanting to talk but not knowing who else could understand my concerns.
“Absolutely,” she replied, nodding her head toward the chair in front of her. As usual she did not immediately ask me what I wanted, but leaned back wai
ting for me to pull my words together.
Twisting my hands together in my lap, not knowing how to approach the subject gently, I blurted, “I think I’ve made a huge mistake with my soldier.”
Tilting her head slightly in question, she waited again. Sucking in my lips, I continued, “We’ve been corresponding more and more, and we…we talk.” More silence. I recognized her silence as an indication for me to keep talking, but I wished she would say something. Anything.
Swallowing deeply, I stared down at my clasped hands and said, “He tells me about his work.” I hesitated, thinking of his job, and a small smile slipped out. “He’s a medic and rescues people from a helicopter.” I sighed, thinking about the importance of his work. “He’s amazing.”
“Amazing?” Susan repeated.
Jerking my eyes back to her, I nodded rapidly. “Oh, yes. He’s brave and daring and smart.”
“He sounds like someone else I know,” she interjected.
I stared at her, not understanding what she meant. Rather than explaining, she asked, “So what mistake have you made?”
“I’ve never told him about me…what I did…where I am. And now…” I sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, feeling tears prick my eyes. “And now, we’re friends and he doesn’t really know who I am.”
The silence in the room settled over me as I was afraid to look into her face and see what I was sure would be recrimination. Finally, finding my bravery, I lifted my head, and to my surprise, saw her smiling.
“Do you know why I insisted on you corresponding to this soldier, even though it was an emotional risk?” she asked.
Shaking my head, afraid of tears falling if I spoke, I stayed silent.
“Molly, your record was perfectly clean…not even a traffic violation. You had a job, went to school, and worked hard. You helped with your sister after your mom died two years ago. And one night you visited your sister and ended up hitting your stepfather when he was drunk and he died when he fell and hit his head. And yet, you never explained why you hit him. You never defended yourself. Since being here, you’ve been soft spoken, haven’t argued with anyone, and have done exactly what you’re told.” Shrugging, Susan said, “I’m sure that if you had had a competent attorney, you would not be here. So, I’ve often asked myself, who were you protecting?”
Shaking my head as though in slow motion, I replied, “It’s done. It doesn’t matter.”
“I wanted you to correspond with the soldier because I wanted you to have some kind of connection with someone from the outside. In my opinion, you don’t belong here and you will be released in three months, back into a world that might judge you harshly. Having a connection with someone over a shared interest gave you a chance to see that there can still be a life for you that isn’t defined by these prison walls.”
“And when he rejects me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I confess I didn’t expect a friendship to grow…I thought a pen-pal experience would be good for you. But, since you are friends, there is a risk of rejection. We all make decisions, Molly. And we have to live by those decisions. You made a decision that night with your stepfather and sister and you are now living the consequences. Even if this soldier rejects you, the harsh reality is that he won’t be the only one in the outside world who will. But there will be those who will not judge you by the decisions of that one fateful night.”
“I could just disappear…not write him back,” I protested.
“Yes, you could. But, somewhere along the way, you need to let someone in and, if not, then you’ll be missing out. Don’t be defined by your incarceration.”
We sat in silence once more, the ticking of the clock and our breathing the only sounds in the room. Standing, I lifted my head and held her gaze before turning to walk out of the room. On stiff legs and still battling tears, I walked back down the long, lonely, stark hallway to my cell.
Pulling up Brody’s last email, I re-read it for the hundredth time, the words memorized by now.
Molly,
I had a shit day and yet at the end, all I could think about was getting to the MWR and telling you about it. At least what I can. It was a full day, ending with a MEDEVAC of someone who will never be the same. No matter what I did, this war took too much from him. Sometimes I hate what I do…what I see.
What I’d really like is to hear more about you. I was surprised to learn that we grew up in the same state. I always liked Virginia. The farm I was raised on grew corn and my dad had a small herd of cows as well. Mom always kept chickens, but that was more of a side business. You said you grew up outside of Charlottesville. Were you near the Blue Ridge Mountains or on the other side? I know there’s a lot of beautiful horse ranches out that way.
One of my buddies just came in and laughed when he saw me here on the computer. He knew I was emailing you, so I had to take some flak about that. But it’s okay. I have a confession to make—I actually looked you up on Facebook. Now I know you really aren’t a little old lady librarian!
I hope this doesn’t make me sound like a stalker, but I’ve come to view you as a friend and I’d love to have a chance to meet you when my tour is over. We can have coffee and talk about books. If you know of any good bookstores, we could always visit one together and compare notes on the mysteries we love.
This life here is hard and you’ve made it more bearable. Thanks for that. I know you said that you don’t always have internet access, but you forgot to send your mailing address.
Your friend,
Brody
My fingers hesitated over the keyboard as I pondered what to say. But I knew the friendship was based on a lie. He thought I worked in a library in the outside world, certainly not in a prison. Susan was wrong…I was defined by my imprisonment.
Deciding to come clean and confess everything to him, I clicked off the computer. If I was going to bare my soul, I would do it with a pen and paper.
“Molly, I need you to shelve the books today. Greta is in the infirmary and won’t be working.”
Nodding toward Ms. Purdue, I stood and walked over to the stack of books, my mind still on Brody. Yes, I’ll write to him…later.
The guard escorted me to the visiting area as my palms sweat and heart pounded. I was stunned when he came to get me, saying I had a visitor today. I never had visitors! We stopped as he gave me the instructions for how visits were to take place and the rules I had to follow. I nodded my understanding, wiping my palms on my pants.
Stepping into the large, well-lit room filled with tables, I saw other inmates sitting with what were probably family and friends, and even children. A couple of guards wandered around but did not appear to be concerned with anyone. I scanned the room quickly, but saw no one I recognized. Turning back to the guard who had escorted me in, I watched as he pointed to a table with a woman sitting alone. I approached the stranger, filled with trepidation. Licking my lips, I twisted my hands in front of me as I noted her observing me.
She appeared to be in her forties, but was beautifully put together. Her dark blonde hair was cut in a sleek, chin-length bob, and her subtle makeup played up her pretty eyes. She smiled up at me as she stood with her hand extended. “Molly Thurston?”
Nodding, I shook her hand, taking the chair opposite hers as she sat back down.
“I’m Clarice Stevens. I’m Rachel’s foster mom.”
I gasped, sucking in air at the sound of my sister’s name, my next words coming out in a rush. “How is she? Is she all right?”
“Yes, yes, she’s fine,” Clarice hastened to assure. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you concern.”
My chin quivered as I blinked back tears at the thought of Rachel, missing her more than I allowed myself to think about. This woman got to be with Rachel every day and I was forbidden to have any contact with her.
“I came today because I wanted to talk to you. Rachel is doing well in school and seems to have adjusted to our family. I have two younger da
ughters and they get along together nicely.” Grinning, she added, “Sometimes, there are some girl squabbles in the house, but for the most part, everyone is great.”
I nodded my head in jerks, listening to her words, but not understanding the purpose of her visit. Forcing a smile on my face, I waited.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she continued. “Rachel has had difficulties with nightmares and we have had her working with a counselor for the past several months. I believe that she has recently had some breakthroughs.”
“Oh, my God, is she okay?” My stomach quaked at the thought of my sister in pain.
Clarice’s eyes softened as she reached over to take my hand. “Yes, Molly. We’re making sure she has what she needs.”
Licking my lips, I looked at the woman sitting across from me then dropped my gaze down to our clasped hands. “And what does she need?”
“Right now she needs a safe place to talk about things and we are making sure she has that. I came today because, while she does not open up to me, the counselor indicated that I should reach out to you.”
I lifted my gaze to her face, wondering what she could want from me. “I don’t understand,” I confessed.
“I know that you will be released in a few more months and I have no idea what your plans are at that time. I also know that for now you have been court-ordered to not have contact with your sister.”
I winced at those words. While true, they still slashed through me. Me…the one person who would do anything to protect her was unable to be with her.
“But,” Clarice continued, pulling my gaze back to her face, “I wanted to come meet you and make sure that when you are released, you contact me.”
“You? Why?”
“It’s my understanding that the counselor would like to work with both you and your sister—separately for now until the court order is lifted. From what little I can discern, I think that would be good for both of you.”
Freedom of Love (Letters From Home Series Book 2) Page 5