by Jill Prand
“NO!” She screams pounding on my chest, “No, it can’t be. He’s coming back to me! He promised not to leave me again!” She fights my hold. Her breathing is labored like she can’t inhale. I pick her up as she faints forward her body shaking like she’s having a seizure. I walk towards the car and Arthur takes her from me as I get in.
“Let me have her,” I tell him once I’m seated. He passes her to me and I hug her against me. I don’t know what to do for her; her heart is racing and she’s still shaking. “Arthur, should we take her to the hospital?”
He looks at her and shakes his head, “No, she’s in shock. Keep her warm and try to soothe her, she’ll wake up when she’s ready.” Did I make the right decision in telling her he’s dead? This is much worse than I thought.
I hold her the entire ride. I love the woman in my arms and I hate myself for causing the pain she’s feeling. No, that’s not right. I did not cause this. I’m not the one who left her and lied to her. Bobby could have turned down the job, he should have put her first. Now he’s gone, not coming back according to Arthur. Even if he’s still alive he probably won’t be for long.
Lisa’s body trembles and I think she is waking up. “Hey, pretty girl,” I whisper, “We’re almost home.” I tighten my hold on her and kiss her forehead, “I called Jodi and let her know what’s going on.” Her sobs start again and they are shredding my heart. “Just tell me what you need, Lisa.” I will do anything to lessen the pain in her heart.
“I can’t do this,” she pushes away from me and folds herself up in the corner, rocking back and forth. I reach for her, but she shrinks away more, “No, Brad. Don’t touch me. Haven’t we done enough?”
She’s feeling guilty about being with me. He doesn’t deserve her guilt, but she’s not ready to hear that. We pull up to the house and Jodi is out the door in a flash. She pulls the door open and Lisa launches herself into Jodi’s arms wailing, “He’s dead. What am I going to do?”
Jodi leads her into the house and I exit the car. I lean against the door after I close it and wait for Arthur to emerge. “Please tell me I’m doing the right thing.”
He places his hand on my shoulder, “No matter when you told her it would be hard. She’ll eventually get over him, just give her time.” Time is all I’ve ever given Lisa. Now when she was finally starting to see me as something other than a friend, Bobby pulls this shit and I’m back at square one. Is it wrong to resent a man who is probably dead or worse being tortured at this very moment? Yeah, probably, but I’m sick of Bobby and I’m not that sorry he’s gone. I just wish Lisa wouldn’t have to hurt to get him out of her life.
John walks out and joins our little group. He shakes Arthur’s hand, “Do you have any other information about what happened?” Arthur and I both agree that no one needs to know that there is a chance Bobby could be alive. He will be talking to Bobby’s team once they return so they stick with the program.
“Not really,” he tells John. “I got a call late last night from one of the team. He told me that Bobby fell back as they were pulling out. By the time they realized he’d been hit it was too late to get him. He was already being taken by the enemy.”
“If he was taken is there a chance he could be alive?” Damn John for picking up on it.
“I’ve been told that even if he lived to their compound they wouldn’t have kept him that way long.” Arthur drops his eyes, “I’m sorry but there is no hope.”
John’s shoulders sag, “What did you tell Lisa?”
“Just that he’s dead. I didn’t want to give her false hope. There seemed no reason,” I say quietly. “Her mom will be here in about an hour. She wants to take Lisa back with her until after Christmas,” he’s looking for approval, like I have a say in what happens to Lisa.
“She’s not even letting me close to her at the moment, so that is probably the best place for her.” I don’t have to explain Lisa’s guilt to him.
He invites Arthur in, but Arthur declines. He gives us both his number so we can contact him and keep him up to date on a memorial and how Lisa is doing. I know I will probably be talking to him more than John. I want to make sure no one is going to tell Lisa Bobby might still be alive.
John and I walk in and sit on the couch. We can hear Lisa sobbing in her room. I want to go in there and hold her so bad, but I know I’m not welcome right now. I need to get out of here, listening to her is killing me. “John, I’m going home for a while. I’ll be back later. Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost it, “Are you sure man? She’s going to need you.”
“No, she’s not. At least not until she realizes that we are not to blame for this, that this is his fault.” “She may never get that,” he says. “I know John, but I can’t stand to listen to her and not be able to touch her. I just need to give her time,” I say as I walk to the door.
That was six days ago.
Lisa
It’s been a week since I found out Bobby is not coming home. I can’t even think that other word yet. I won’t. In my heart he is still alive, still fighting his way back to me. I know soon I will have to face it; John is planning a memorial service for tomorrow and I’m still at my mom’s house. She came to get me last Saturday and I’ve been surrounded by family ever since. Christmas has come and gone. I’ve been in a fog, politely answering questions when asked, hiding out in my room when it’s all been too much.
I’ve talked to Jodi and John daily. John tried to include me in the planning of the service. He wanted me to pick out the music, but other than Imagine by John Lennon, Bobby’s favorite song, I’ve left it up to him. I haven’t talked to Brad. He’s called and texted daily, but I just couldn’t do it.
My guilt is crushing me. In my head I know Brad and I are not to blame, but the gaping hole in my heart is still bleeding and I can’t afford to let Brad in yet. I’ve texted him and told him I just need time, but I don’t know how I’ll react when I see him. He went to his sister’s in North Carolina for Christmas and is driving home today. He asked if I want him to pick me up so I can dress at Jodi’s instead of coming up with my mom tomorrow morning. It’s a good idea, but I don’t know if I can handle being alone with him for two hours. I never answered that text so I don’t know if he’s going to show up here or not.
My mom knocks on my door, “Lisa honey, do you want something to eat?” she asks as she walks in.
I haven’t been eating much. I have no appetite, “No mom, I’m okay.”
She comes over and puts her arms around me, “You should try to eat something. You didn’t have anything for dinner last night.” I lean into her and she strokes my hair like she did when I was little. I’m really trying not to cry. I’m so tired of crying and there is no way I’m going to make it through tomorrow without bawling my eyes out yet again, so I’m going to try to be strong today.
“Brad called a few minutes ago,” she says. I sit back and she takes my hands. “I told him to come get you.”
I’m shocked that she just made that decision for me, “Why?” “Because you need to get back before tomorrow. I’ll be leading a few cars and you will be stressed out enough without worrying we’ll be late because your uncle isn’t driving fast enough or we get caught in traffic.” She sighs, “And you need to deal with Brad before tomorrow.”
I close my eyes. I know she’s right. It’s not like he’ll stay away tomorrow and I need to work through some of this guilt. I nod my head, “You’re right, as always, but I wanted so much not to cry today.”
“Well, take it minute by minute,” she says squeezing my hand. “And ask him for what you need. He’ll do whatever you want.” I know he will and that just makes this harder. When I woke up in Bobby’s bed last week after that horrific scene with Stuart, all I wanted was Bobby. It made me realize that Brad would always come in second no matter how much I loved him. I guess that doesn’t matter now, but will I always be looking back at Bobby? Can I have a future with Brad? I know I’m not r
eady to answer that question. And is it fair to ask Brad to wait not knowing if I’ll ever get over Bobby?
My mom stands up and starts straightening the room. I’ve been a slob the last few days and my clothes are all over the place. “I’ll do your laundry and bring it with us tomorrow,” she says. “What do you want to wear today?”
“Just jeans and a sweatshirt.” I reach over to the nightstand, grab a hair tie and pull my hair into a sloppy ponytail. My mom looks into one of the drawers and pulls out a big black sweatshirt that I haven’t worn in years.
“I found this in your closet when we moved and thought you might like it one day.” She turns to me holding it out and the tears start to fall again. It says “Stage Crew” in white letters right below a spotlight, and it was Bobby’s. He had given it to me one day when we were on the beach and I was cold. I never gave it back to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear it after he left. I hug it to me and know I will wear it today and probably sleep in it for the near future. I pull out underwear and jeans and go into the bathroom. I take a quick shower without wasting time washing my hair. I don’t feel like spending the time to dry it. When I pull the sweatshirt over my head it envelops me. I finish getting dressed with the arms of the sweatshirt falling down and annoying me.
I walk out into the great room, “Mom can you help me roll up these sleeves?” I stop walking halfway across the room when I spy Brad sitting at the breakfast table with my step-father. I’m frozen. I can’t form a coherent word. My mom comes over and does the sleeves and leads me to the kitchen island. Brad looks like he hasn’t slept in days either. He hasn’t shaved and there is at least three days of stubble on his face. “Hey,” he says, but makes no move to come to me.
I manage to squeak out a “Hi” in return. My mom puts a cup of coffee in front of me followed by the milk and sugar. I take my time preparing it to give both my hand and mind something to do. My heart is racing and my hands shake as I lift the cup to my mouth. I’m so not ready yet to deal with him.
My step-father gets up mumbling something about checking emails and goes into their room. My mother follows saying she needs to get their laundry together. That leaves Brad and me alone. I’m still staring into my cup when I hear him get up. “Lisa, if you want me to leave I will.”
I put my cup down shaking my head, “No Brad, I don’t want you to leave. I was just surprised you were already here.” I finally turn to him and see the anguish in his eyes. I’ve hurt him again by pushing him away. Will I ever stop hurting him? He stands there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans looking so unsure of himself. He’s my best friend and I need him to be strong for me now. I know my actions have shaken his confidence yet again. I walk to him, it is only four steps until I’m standing toe to toe with him. His shoulders press up and I know he’s restraining himself from touching me, “I need my friend, Brad. Can we just be that for right now?”
Relief flashes in his eyes as my words reach him. “Whatever you need, pretty girl.” And I step into his embrace. My arms go around his waist and my hands fist the back of his shirt. My forehead burrows into his neck as his strong hands knead along my spine. I drink in his strength, I’ve been given hugs from all my family the past week, but none of them have sheltered me like Brad’s.
With his arms around me I think I can get through tomorrow and stay sane.
I lean back to look into his eyes, “I’m sorry for pushing…” That’s as far as I get.
He pulls me back against him. “Don’t, Lisa. I understand. I feel guilty, too. I’m just glad to be here for you.” He presses my head against his chest and I hear the rapid beat of his heart. He’s here. He’s alive and I know he’ll give me whatever I want. And like the selfish bitch I am, I’m going to lean on him even though I know he’ll only ever have half my heart.
My mother comes out and we break apart. “What time are you leaving?” she asks. I shrug my shoulders and look up at Brad. “I’d like to get going soon,” he replies. “I don’t want to get caught in traffic.” He’s right. Even though a lot of people take this week off, traffic around the city is always lightest mid-day.
“Let me just get my things together,” I say walking back to my room.
Once inside I sit down on my bed. I’m going to have to face reality now. This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I pick up my phone off the nightstand and open it. Bobby’s face greets me. I had taken this picture in bed one day and he is looking at me with all the passion and love in his heart. I’m never going to feel those lips on mine again. Never feel him inside of me. Never hear him call out my name as he comes. I turn the speaker on and play the last message he’ll ever send me.
Hey, baby. Hope you have a great day! I really wish I was there. I love you, Lisa. I’ll try to call later.
“I wish you were here, too,” I whisper, my heart aching to hold him just one more time. I wipe my eyes. I have to stop listening to that over and over. I wish there were a way I could delete it for a month and have it magically reappear when I can finally listen to it and not break down.
I put the phone in my purse and grab my charger. My mom will bring my clothes tomorrow so all I really need is my purse and my coat. I grab it from the closet and then walk back out to the great room. “I’m ready,” I announce.
My mom makes me eat two pieces of toast before she’ll let us leave. Then she walks us out. “Call me when you get back,” she tells me as she hugs me. “We’ll be there as early as possible tomorrow.”
“Thanks for everything, Mom,” I say as I climb into Brad’s truck.
“Drive safe,” she calls out to Brad with a wave, than she walks back into the house. As we pull out of the driveway Brad turns on a classic rock station and says, “Why don’t you try and get some sleep.” I guess he can tell I haven’t been getting much. I nod and close my eyes listening to Jim Morrison sing about loving her madly.
When I awake we are on the L.I.E. about twenty minutes away from home. It’s the first time in a week I haven’t dreamt about Bobby, maybe because the whole truck smells like Brad. He’s singing along to Mother’s Little Helper by the Rolling Stones and the thought of valium gives me pause. I wonder if I could get some for tomorrow.
He notices I’m awake, “Hey, did you have a good nap?”
“I actually did, thanks.” Maybe I should have him drive me around all night so I can get enough sleep not to look like a zombie tomorrow. “I can’t wait to get home,” he says. “I love my sister, but with the whole family there I felt like I was suffocating. And her kids were up at the crack of dawn every morning.” I’m sure having his parents there was the hardest part. They still treat Darlene like the golden child and Brad like the ugly step-son.
Brad yawns and I can see how tired he is. “What time did you leave Darlene’s?” It’s about a twelve hour drive from my mom’s to Concord where she lives.
“About nine last night,” he tells me. “I stopped for coffee a few times and at Mickey D’s for breakfast this morning.”
“Have you spoken to Jodi or John today?” I just realized I hadn’t called them to tell them I was coming back today. “Yeah, I called them right before I got to your mom’s. I told them I was picking you up and we would be home in a couple of hours.” Good. That means Jodi will have time to put away the presents I had under the tree for Bobby. I’d asked her to do that for me since I know he’ll never get to open them.
“Thanks.” It’s going to be difficult enough to see his pictures all over my room. We’re almost there and I can feel my anxiety level rising. There is something I need to do and it is making me shake. I wring my hands together in my lap.
Brad reaches over and covers my hands with his, “We’ll get you through this, Lisa. All of your friends will help.” I’m really glad for his support, but the thing I dread most is sitting in my underwear drawer. Bobby’s letter.
“Brad, when we get there I need some time alone.” I look at him, “I need to,” I pause to take a deep breath
, “read his letter.”
He gives me a look of astonishment, “You haven’t read it yet?”
“I didn’t bring it with me. I was scared. I’m still scared to read it, but at the same time I think I need to before tomorrow.”
He pulls my hands over to his lap. “You’re right. You should do it beforehand. That way you can say a proper goodbye.”
I don’t think I will ever be able to say goodbye to Bobby, but I can’t tell Brad that. When we get to the house, Jodi and John hug me for a long time. At least it feels that way. Now that I’ve made up my mind to read the letter I just want to get it done. I finally get to my room saying I needed a little time. I figure Brad would fill them in once I was out of the room.
My hands are shaking as I take the letter out. I sit on my bed and just hold it to my chest for a minute. These are his last words to me. I open the envelope and take out the sheets of paper. I close my eyes as I unfold it saying a silent prayer for strength. Finally I open my eyes.
To My Heart, I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry I’m not there to hold you. I’m sorry for the pain I know you’re feeling, but most of all I’m sorry for leaving you. The hardest thing I’ve ever done is leaving you today.
I have a feeling I won’t be home anytime soon. I’m going to try my hardest to get back to you because you are my reason for living, but if you are reading this then I didn’t make it back with my team. I don’t know if I’m captured or dead, but either way you need to go on with your life. Our mission wasn’t sanctioned by the US government so even if I’m still alive the odds of me making it back are almost zero.
I need you to know that I had already told my partners this was my last mission. I was going to be the figurehead of the company and run the legit portion. That probably sounds strange to you since you didn’t know about the other side, but Harber Securities is a front for a mercenary group that takes jobs the President won’t sign off on. There are some very high level military and political leaders involved. I won’t tell you who because knowing their names could put you in danger. Just know that before you came back into my life I didn’t care what missions they sent me on, I had no one to live for.