Bond of Love (Letters From Home Series Book 3)

by Maryann Jordan

  Minutes later I stood, finding a box of tissues at the back of the chapel and dried my tears. Focusing on thoughts of Ben and what I wanted to include in his next package, I sucked in a deep cleansing breath and found renewed strength. Heaving a sigh, I left the peaceful room and made my way back to the ER chaos.

  When my shift was over I drove home, exhausted and numb. Skipping dinner, I showered before falling into bed. That night my dreams were dark and twisted. The young man from the ER morphed into James as I tried over and over to save him. Waking suddenly, I kicked the covers off, my body hot and sweaty. Looking at the clock, I saw that it was only three a.m. Knowing sleep would not return soon and not wanting to slip back into nightmares, I got up and padded into the kitchen.

  I heated water in the microwave and then plopped in a teabag to steep. Once the cup of tea was ready, I carried it into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Flipping through the channels on the TV, I finally left it on a soft music station as I sipped the hot brew. My thoughts returned to Ben and I wondered what he was doing. I tried to imagine the mechanic’s shop where he and James had worked. I tried to imagine their friends. Sitting up quickly, I realized I still had no idea what Ben looked like. Downing the rest of my tea, I moved to the kitchen table, grabbing pen and paper on the way.

  Chapter 5

  (July – Ben)

  The Afghanistan summer sun beat down on us as we worked in the field. Roger, Jacob, and I were sent on assignment to work on two convoy trucks that had broken down, halting the soldiers’ progress. The mountains rose in the background, but out in the inhospitable valley, we felt all too exposed to danger possibly around.

  It was only ten a.m. and already over one hundred degrees. Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I buried my head back under the hood of the Oshkosh MTVR.

  One of the soldiers standing guard around brought a bottle of water and handed it up to me. “Here you go, man. You’ll need this,” he offered.

  “Appreciate it,” I thanked and twisted off the cap. Guzzling half the contents, I pocketed the bottle for later and turned back to my task.

  Roger walked over from his vehicle and climbed up beside me. “How’s it going?”

  “Fuckin’ crack allowed sand to collect. I’m trying to get it clean and then we’ll need to patch it until they can get the truck back to base for a replacement.” My frustration increased along with the heat level. We battled against not only the human enemy, but nature as well. Sand was destroying more engines than IEDs. “What about you?”

  “The front differential will need to be replaced but we’re getting it patched enough to make it back.”

  Several hours later, my knuckles were bloodied, grease was embedded underneath my fingernails, and oil stained my uniform. Guzzling one more bottle of water as I jumped back down to the dusty ground, I had the driver turn the engine over once more. Hearing the growl of the truck as it started, I grinned in spite of my fatigue. Roger and Jacob had their vehicle patched by that time and we were ready to head back to base.

  With heartfelt thanks from the convoy drivers, we drove away, anxious to get to our destination before dark settled over the land. Breathing a sigh of relief as the base came into view an hour later, we pulled into the gates and made our way toward the machinery garage.

  Writing up our report, it took a while for us to finish and by that time, the shift was over. Anxious to get clean, we hustled to the shower tent. For once, the cool water felt amazing as I washed off the sweat and grime. Just like the truck engines, I felt as though the constant wind-blown sand had filled my pores.

  Suddenly a thought of James rushed to my mind as I remembered him joking about the sand blowing underneath his uniform and he was afraid of it chafing his dick. Chuckling in spite of my fatigue, I wondered if that was a tale Alicia would like to hear.

  Alicia…I hoped to hear from her again soon. For someone I had never met, I looked forward to her letters and hoped mine in return were welcome. James had shown a picture of her to me once and I remembered thinking at the time that she was beautiful. Her smile was infectious and her dark, warm eyes sparkled. The thought of her smile now being gone and her eyes no longer twinkling hit me in the gut. More than anything else, I wanted to make her smile once more.

  Stepping into the post office, I immediately noticed the grin of the soldier behind the counter.

  “Figured you’d be in soon and, gotta tell you, this one’s a big one!”

  I looked at the large box and matched her grin. “Thanks!” I called out as I carried the box back to the bunks. The tent was half filled and the eyes of my squad took one look at the package and several of them jumped up to see what it contained.

  Roger whooped as I opened it and began pulling out bags of treats. “Good God, how much did James’ sister send?”

  Jacob looked at me speculatively as a slow smile spread across his face. “She’s still sending packages?”

  Nodding, I avoided his knowing smile and shrugged as I said, “She says she wants to keep taking care of James’ former squad.” The others appreciated the gesture, but Jacob still eyed me as I passed out the cookies. Seeing the letter in the box, I slid it into my pocket to read later in private.

  Being a day off, I soon slipped away easily, walking down the dusty road between the rows of tents. Coming to the Morale, Welfare, and Recreation tent, I stepped inside and found an empty table near the books. Pulling out the letter, I stared for a moment at the familiar handwriting, grinning at the name on the outside. Ben…not SPC Benjamin Fowler.

  Sliding my finger under the flap, I opened the envelope and pulled out the pages.

  Dear Ben,

  I hope you are well. As you can see, I’ve been doing a lot of baking. I guess it’s my stress reliever. I’m still having such a hard time and find myself tonight just needing to pour it all out to someone. Lucky you…I guess you’ll have to muddle through this with me.

  There was a young man who was brought to the ER yesterday and he looked so much like James. But we could not save him and the experience rocked me to my core. All I could think of was James and how he must have suffered. Just when I think I’m getting better, something happens and I cry all over again. Does that happen to you or is that just something that is affecting me?

  I do talk to my parents and my closest friend, another nurse named Roberta, but I don’t want to burden them. But of course, that’s what I’m doing to you, isn’t it? I am curious though – does the Army provide any mental health assistance for grief or are soldiers just supposed to “grin and bear it”?

  When I went to sleep, I dreamed horrible dreams of James but when I got up, I began to think of you. (don’t let that weird you out!) But I wondered how you were and what you were doing.

  Are you able to send me any pictures? I know things are probably secure, but I’d love to see the place where you and James worked. And, to be honest, I’d love to see a picture of you as well. I’d like to have a visual of James’ friend. And of course, I now count you as a friend also, so I need that picture! If you wonder what I look like, just picture James with no muscles, no facial hair, and dressed like a girl. Oh yeah, and long hair!

  Okay, that may have just made me giggle. See? Writing to you helps! I know I could journal write and it might have the same effect, but knowing that someone is on the other end of my letters who knew James makes all the difference.

  I’d love to send you more things than just cookies – what do you need the most? (okay, I can’t slip a girl into the box!) But seriously, let me know what you all need or can’t get there. I’ve been reading up on what to send but wanted to make sure to include whatever you would like to have.

  I know you have mentioned not having any family and I am so sorry about that. If you would like to share, I’d love to know more about you.

  By the way, I went to a dinner party the other night at Roberta’s house and had to hide in the bathroom for a while. Dr. “I don’t know the word no” Simmons cornered me again. Bu
t I stayed so long in the bathroom, I may have taken away the “nookie corner” from one of the couples. That’s okay – they had other places they could go! But don’t worry about me – I can take care of myself! I just thought since James used to share my silly stories, I’d send one to you.

  Well, Ben, I feel better. I’ll get another package to you soon. Thank you for the gift of not only being James’ friend, but now mine as well.

  Yours affectionately,

  Alicia

  I tried to keep my hands from shaking, but was unsuccessful. Scanning the room, I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed no one was paying any attention to me. My gaze dropped back to the letter in my hands. Something was happening and I was just as unable to stop my emotions as I was stopping my shaking. Yours affectionately. Alicia now truly felt like my friend…someone for me to bond with, and not just as James’ sister. Scrubbing my hand over my face, I fought those feelings. She’s just being nice. She just needs to connect with someone who knew James. She’s just reaching out because of her own grief. But none of those excuses made a difference to the warmth spreading through my heart.

  The shift before us brought in two vehicles, a Humvee and an LMTV cargo truck, both beyond repair. Getting our assignments for the day, we discovered another Humvee had also been brought in that needed parts. Perfect match. Shaking my head, I sometimes wondered if there were any vehicles in all of Afghanistan that weren’t rebuilt from the bones of others.

  Opening the doors, I began the arduous task of dismantling. For me, I saw it as a chance to save another vehicle…a mechanical organ donor. The sunshine was broken up with clouds today, making the scorcher more bearable. Plus, being inside of the base, our uniforms were lighter, with most of us working in our sand-colored, short-sleeved t-shirts.

  Those of us working on dismantling joked amongst ourselves, looking forward to a couple of days off. James, as always, slipped through my mind, knowing how he hated this part of his job. Only this time, instead of slashing me with pain, I began to think of Alicia and my next letter to her. In fact, no matter what I was doing, my thoughts tended to turn toward her. And each time, a goofy smile crossed my face. Looking around quickly, I steeled my expression but noticed Jacob smirking at me. I was grateful that, if he suspected, he kept his mouth shut. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to know I was beginning to have feelings for James’ sister.

  Chapter 6

  (August – Alicia)

  “Good grief, mom, what on Earth is going on?”

  Dad had called and asked if I could come help mom and I hurried over, wondering what she was doing. As soon as I walked into the kitchen, I noticed bags of chocolate chips, flour, eggs, milk, and more baking powder. “What are you baking? Looks like you could feed an Army!”

  Mom turned from the counter where she was stirring a large bowl of batter, and grinned. “Guilty.”

  “Huh?” Then I realized what I had said and clarified, “So you are trying to feed the whole Army?”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear, smearing some flour on her cheek and said, “I’ve joined the local chapter of the American Gold Star Mothers. Thankfully, there’s not too many of us, but I’m also in the Blue Star Mothers chapter.”

  Mom had joined the Blue Star Mothers when James first joined the service, but I knew her participation had waned after he died. “Gold Star Mothers?” I asked.

  “It’s also a veterans’ service organization, but it’s mothers who have lost a son or daughter in the service.” Her smile was sad, but I saw a brightness in her eyes that had been missing for months.

  “Do you have a project going?” I wondered aloud.

  Nodding, mom smiled softly, also the first I had seen in months. “Yes, we’re baking for care packages to send to the troops.”

  I observed her closely, her grief still raw, but the determination to help others still very real. Remembering Ben’s words about James wanting to help others, I smiled knowing where he inherited the trait.

  Looking at the baking supplies still on the counter, I said, “Thinking about the Blue Star moms doing care packages makes me think that I should send more than just cookies. Maybe I’ll do some for his squad and include other things as well. You’ll have to let me know what to put in it.”

  “That would be lovely!” mom exclaimed, while dad simply smiled. “I’ll put their squad up for our group to send packages to as well.”

  The three of us got busy with mom and me baking and dad looking up lists of things soldiers needed. He blushed and said, “I know what we used to send James but I’m finding lists for female soldiers as well. I’ll print these out and you can go shopping, Alicia.”

  “You don’t want to go, dad?” I teased.

  Gaining the reaction I knew was coming, dad shuddered. “Me? At Walmart? Hell, no!”

  Mom and I shared a look then burst into giggles as dad continued. “That store may have everything, but I get lost and walk for miles just trying to find men’s underwear!”

  At that, we all laughed, my heart feeling lighter. “Okay, dad, you do the lists and I’ll do the shopping.” With him readily agreeing, I felt re-energized for the first time in months.

  This time the envelope with Ben’s handwriting on it was much thicker than normal. Giddy with excitement, I threw my purse down, kicked off my clogs, and plopped down on the sofa with my feet on the coffee table. Tiger jumped up and settled down on my lap, in our now usual letter-reading pose.

  Ripping open the envelope, several pictures fell from between the pages. Snatching them greedily, my heart pounded as I savored a photograph of James and several other soldiers standing in a large room with trucks behind them and mechanic’s tools scattered at their feet. The five men stood side by side with their arms around each other, huge smiles on their faces. I sought out James first, the familiar dark hair so like my own and his handsome face pierced my heart. He looked so happy…so carefree with his friends doing the job he loved to do. But no tears came. This time I simply viewed him as he was and felt glad that if he had been so far from home, at least he was surrounded by his squad.

  My gaze was then drawn to the man on the end next to James, the two of them taller than the others. This soldier’s brown hair was not as dark as James but neatly trimmed in his military cut. His t-shirt was stretched across his chest and his muscular biceps were showing. His handsome face held a bit of a boyish grin, as though one of them had just cracked a dirty joke. I wonder…

  Flipping the picture over, I saw their names. And right next to James was listed Ben Fowler. My smile widened. Looking at the next two pictures, I saw a candid shot that was a close up of a group of soldiers playing cards. The two men facing the camera were James and Ben. They both look happy. Somehow that thought gave me courage. The last picture was just of Ben and on the back it said, Alicia, Thanks for your friendship. Ben

  My heart lighter than it had been in ages, I slid deeper into the sofa as I opened the letter.

  Dear Alicia,

  Your last package was amazing and so appreciated by all! I know you want to send more things but I don’t want you to feel obligated. Honestly, I’m okay, but we can always use toiletries and stuff like that.

  I was glad you told me about your dreams and even about the young man from the ER. I don’t know how you do your job – you are amazing to be a nurse in such a stressful environment. It’s a true gift. But it is important for you to take care of yourself as well. I know James would want that for you, and if you don’t mind my saying, I want that for you also.

  I hope you like the pictures. I found two that had James in them and I know you wanted to see him in his workplace. The group photo was taken when we first got here and poker night was just about a month before he died. I also included one of me—you can throw it away if you want, but I figured you should see who you’re writing to. I saw a picture of you with James a long time ago, but I’d like to have more than just the memory of that one and the hilarious visual you presented in your l
ast letter! So please send one for me if you don’t mind.

  You asked about my family but there’s not much to tell. My mom was a single mom after my dad left us. I was only a baby so I don’t remember him. He was never part of my life, but mom did the best she could. She had a longtime boyfriend who owned a garage and he taught me all about cars and engines. I used to love hanging out there and soaking up everything I could. Mom died when I was only fifteen and since she and Oscar never married, he had no legal claim on me. I was sent to a foster home but it was hard to adjust. I’m afraid I didn’t make it easy on them and ended up being shuffled to about four more foster homes until I finally turned eighteen. I joined the Army on my eighteenth birthday and never looked back.

  I got the MOS I wanted, which was Wheeled Vehicle Mechanic. There are other types of mechanics from tracked vehicles, Stryker systems, helicopter, artillery, to Bradley vehicles, but if it’s got wheels, I knew I could learn to fix it. I just never knew how many different kinds of wheeled vehicles the military used until I was trained. Like James didn’t, I don’t want to spend my whole career in the Army. In fact, I plan on getting out of the service after this tour is over with. I’ve got five more months to go. I should be able to get a job in a garage but I’d ultimately like to own one myself. That’s down the road, but still a goal.

  Do you want to stay an ER nurse? By the way, while your Dr. Simmons’ story was amusing, I think he may need me to talk to him when I get out! If that asshole keeps bothering you, I will be paying him a visit! And this is not because I owe it to James to look after you, but because I want to.

  Well, I guess that’s enough for now. I’ll include my email in case you ever want to write to me that way. It’s quicker, but then I don’t want to give up my goodie boxes! It’s really sweet of you to take the time to do this and even though I know you say it’s good for you to do when you think about James, it’s still nice for you to send them. I wish I had something I could send to you as a thank-you, but there’s not much here that I think you would want. Anyway, take care and write soon. I really look forward to your letters – and don’t forget about a picture!