by Claire Adams
“How long ago did you retire?” Saburo asked, with interest.
I felt my throat constrict a little. I didn’t want to be talking about this. My military career had come to a sudden and unexpected close, and I didn’t want to relive the details. I could feel the memories collecting slowly at the back of my mind, and even as I tried to resist them, I knew it was useless.
“Three years ago,” I replied. “Just about.”
“You are a very young man to have done so much,” Hiro pointed out.
“Ah, he still has more to do,” Natsuo said, giving me a smile. “I see you wear no ring on your finger.”
Laughter went up among the group, and I knew the booze was doing its job. “You’re not married?” Hiro asked.
“No,” I said, a little too quickly. “No, I’m not married.”
“A brave man like you… You’ll find a woman easily,” Saburo said, clapping me on the back.
“Let’s toast,” Natsuo prompted, raising his glass. “To Major CEO Jake Middleton and his future wife.”
A round of cheers filled the air, and I sipped my champagne quietly, wishing I could drink something a little stronger. The happier and unrulier the crowd got, the quieter and more reflective I became. At this point, no one noticed my mood because everyone was having too good a time to give me any attention. I was grateful for that; I just wanted to be left alone.
I kept drinking as the conversation of the group became white noise in the background of my memories. I probably should have stayed away from alcohol; I could never control my thoughts when I drank. I remembered things I’d long since forgotten. I remembered things I had worked years to forget.
I remembered the morning I’d received the phone call. I had been sitting in our tiny matchbox apartment with Noah on my lap. He had been gurgling away, happy to crawl around on the large pillowy blanket that I had spread across the living room floor. When the call came in, I left Noah on the floor and rushed to answer it. I had been expecting a call from Daphne last night, but it had never come.
I hadn’t been concerned. The connections were not always good in Afghanistan, especially if she was in a particularly hostile location. I knew she would call when she had a good line. I was just anxious to talk to her because of the last time. We’d had a small fight, and Daphne had hung up on me. It had been almost six days, and I had started to calm down enough to want to apologize for what I had said to her.
I had answered the call, anticipating Daphne’s voice, but what I heard was the deep, gravelly voice of a man.
“Hello?”
“Is this Major Jake Middleton?”
“It is,” I said, glancing at Noah, who was still crawling around on the floor. “Who is this?”
“I’m Doctor Steven Edwards,” he replied. “I’m serving in the same unit as your wife.”
I felt my knees go weak. “What happened?”I asked the question. But I wasn’t even really listening to his reply. All I heard were a few words that shook me to my very core. It was all I really needed to hear anyway.
“Major Middleton?”
“What?”
“Can you hear me?” the doctor asked. “I said there was too much shrapnel…internal bleeding…broken ribs…”
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” I said, cutting him off. “I have to go.”
He was still talking when I hung up on him. I stood there for a long time, staring at my kitchen, trying to process what had just happened. Suddenly, I felt a tug on my right leg and looked down. Noah was at my feet. He had crawled right up to me and was looking at me proudly, with one hand wrapped firmly around my ankle.
“Hi, buddy.” My voice broke as I spoke, and I felt moisture prick at the back of my eyelids.
“Da-da,” Noah said, raising his arms to me so that I could pick him up.
Instinctively, I picked him up and started walking around the apartment mindlessly. The phone started ringing again when I was on my third circuit around the coffee table, but I ignored it.
“Da-da,” Noah said, as though he were trying to point my attention towards the ringing phone.
In the end, I unplugged the phone because the ringing made me feel like screaming. I kept walking until my legs hurt and Noah’s weight had become uncomfortable. But I didn’t want to stop walking because if I stopped, I would have to face it. And, I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. I wasn’t ready to make it real.
“Jake?”
I blinked, and Natsuo’s face focused in front of me. “Sorry,” I said. “I was somewhere else.”
“Too much alcohol?” he teased.
I forced a smile onto my face. “Please, I can drink you under the table,” I said. “It’s all part of my military training.”
“Ah-ha,” he said. “That sounds like a challenge to me.”
The table erupted in cheers and wolf whistles, and everyone started banging their hands on the table, demanding to see the challenge play out. I could feel the weight of my past threaten to drown me, and I knew I needed something hard enough to numb me against the pain of it.
I flagged down the waiter and ordered hard liquor for the table. “It is,” I said, looking at Natsuo suggestively.
He laughed and clapped me hard on the back. “We shall see who wins, my friend.”
Hiro shook his head. “He was in the military,” he told Natsuo. “You have no chance.”
I smiled darkly to myself. No one understood the truth. My tolerance for alcohol didn’t come from my military past; it came from my personal tragedy: the tragedy I felt was doomed to follow me through the rest of my life.
Chapter Six
Kristen
I felt an instant connection with the sweet, cherub-faced little four-year-old in front of me. He looked like a miniature version of Jake. He had dark shaggy brown hair and pearly blue eyes. Perhaps the biggest difference was that hope had not abandoned his face like it had his father’s.
Jake’s home was a three-bedroom apartment in one of the city’s nicest apartment buildings. It was spacious and sparsely furnished, which made it seem even bigger. I was pleasantly surprised by how the apartment was decorated. The colors comprised of neutrals in earthy tones and light pastels. The furniture was practical and comfortable, and there were plenty of personal items littered around the place.
Almost every wall had picture frames adorning it. The moment I walked into the living room, I had noticed the framed picture of Daphne in the center of the main wall. I hadn’t at first looked directly at it because I didn’t want my interest to look suspicious. But once Noah was engrossed in his action figures, I was free to look at it as much as I wanted.
Daphne was wearing her uniform in the posed photograph. She looked strong and commanding and extremely impressive. Her expression was slightly flat, not smiling, but there was a strange expression in her eye, one I couldn’t quite place. Next to her picture was the framed flag that had no doubt been gifted to Jake and Noah after her death. It made me sad to look at it. The sense of loss that engulfed me was what forced me to turn away at last.
I glanced over at Noah, who was engrossed in his little game. He was a sweet child, and I realized from the first hour I had spent with him that he was accustomed to playing alone. I did notice that he liked having me around, though. Whenever I walked over to the kitchen to drink water, he looked up instinctively as though he was aware something was missing.
I thought about Daphne and our strange and unexpected relationship. I remembered the few times we had met and the connection I had felt with her. I was almost certain that connection was one-sided, but a part of me still clung to the naïve hope that maybe she hadn’t hated me. I couldn’t believe that this was the first time I was meeting her son.
I looked around some more, but there were no more pictures of Daphne. There were no family portraits, either. Most of the pictures were of Noah involved in different games and in different places. It was rare to find Jake in the pictures, too. When he was pictured, his expression was pained, alm
ost as though he had been forced into being photographed.
I wondered how he would react if he knew who I really was. He certainly wouldn’t have allowed me to babysit his son. I knew I had crossed a line by taking the job with Jake in the first place, but somehow, I just kept justifying my actions.
“Oww!” Noah exclaimed, pulling me back to the present.
“Oh no,” I said, rushing to his side. “What happened, sweetheart?”
“I cut my finger,” Noah said, scrunching up his face in pain.
“Oh, honey, hold still, let me take a look.”
It was a small scrape on his right hand. There was a little blood, but it was only a surface wound. In a second, his blood would clot, and he would be fine.
“I bet that hurts, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“But I think you’re brave enough to handle it.”
“I am brave,” Noah said quickly. “Just like my daddy.”
“I have no doubt,” I smiled. “Now, come with me and let’s get you cleaned up.”
I ran his hand under some water and then once it was dry, I covered over the scratch with a Band-Aid that had little blue stars all over it. “There we go,” I said. “Good as new.”
“Thank you,” Noah said, giving me a shy smile.
“Don’t mention it, my little man. Now, what’s the time? Are you hungry?” I asked. “You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Can I have noodles?”
“Uh…sure,” I nodded. “I can make you noodles.”
“You don’t have to make them,” he told me. “You just have to warm them up.”
Frowning, I went to kitchen cupboards and looked through them. There were two packets of microwavable noodles. I reached for one and stared at the instructions on the back. Noah had followed me into the kitchen, looking at me with those big blue eyes, like he was waiting to be fed.
I gave him a small smile. “You eat this for dinner?”
“Uh-huh,” he nodded.
“Your dad doesn’t mind?”
“He’s never here for dinner.”
“Ah…does Janet give you this for dinner?”
“Almost always,” he nodded.
I bit my lip and refrained from saying anything. “How about we try something different today?” I suggested, making my tone as enthusiastic as possible.
Noah looked hesitant. “I don’t know.”
“I promise it’ll be good,” I said.
“Cross your heart?”
I smiled and gave him a wink. “Cross my heart,” I promised.
I opened the fridge and peered in. There were a few carrots, beans, and potatoes, and I found some chicken in the freezer. Once the chicken had defrosted I cut it up and threw the pieces onto a frying pan with olive oil. Noah looked fascinated.
“Can I help?” he asked.
“Sure,” I nodded. “How about you set the table for me?”
Half an hour later, I had a home-cooked dinner ready for him. I arranged the chicken and veggies into a smiley face on the surface of his plate and set it down in front of him.
“Voila,” I said. “What do you think?”
“It’s so nice,” he said, sounding mightily impressed.
“Go on,” I encouraged. “Take a bite and tell me how you like it.”
He speared a piece of chicken with his fork and popped it in. Then he gave me a big happy smile and nodded. “That’s yummy.”
“Yeah,” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “I’m glad you like it.”
I sat down beside Noah at the table and passed him a glass of water. I helped myself to a few pieces of chicken and tried to engage Noah in some conversation.
“So…how are you liking school?”
“I like it,” Noah replied.
“Are your teachers nice?”
“Ms. Mary is nice,” Noah replied, with his mouth full. “But I don’t like Ms. Gayle. She’s always angry.”
“Urgh…I had a teacher like that,” I told him. “I was always nervous around her.”
“Me, too,” Noah said, looking at me with wide eyes.
I smiled. “Tell me about your friends.”
“My friends are Jaime and Lonnie and Peter,” Noah said. “But I’m not speaking to Dan.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And why is that?”
“He told me I didn’t have a mother,” Noah said. “He said I was weird for not having a mother.”
I frowned. “Dan doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I said immediately. “You’re not weird at all.”
“I told him so,” Noah said. “I told him that my mommy was coming back. And you did.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Uh… Noah, sweetheart… You know that I’m not your mommy, right?”
“You’re my new mommy,” he qualified.
I froze for a moment, but I didn’t let my surprise show. “Sweetheart, why do you think that?”
“Because you cooked my dinner and read me a story and looked after me when I got cut. And because you smell nice and are very pretty.”
I smiled and leaned in to kiss him gently on the forehead. I wanted to correct him again, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint that sweet, innocent face. “Do you remember your mommy?” I asked instead.
“No,” Noah said, shaking his head for emphasis. “She was brave…like my daddy.”
“She was a soldier, too?” I asked, even though I already knew all the answers.
Noah nodded. “She went to Af…Afganiland,” he said.
“I think it’s called Afghanistan,” I said, suppressing my smile.
“Yeah, that,” he nodded. “She went to make America safe.”
“She did a very brave thing,” I said softly.
“Daddy says she used to sing to me,” he continued. “But I don’t remember. I was too little. I only know her from the pictures.”
“I saw her picture in the living room,” I said. “She’s very beautiful.”
Noah smiled proudly. “Daddy says so, too.”
We sat at the table for half an hour talking and eating, and I was surprised by how much I was enjoying myself. Noah was a smart child, but he was also thoughtful and observant. He had clearly noticed his father’s absence, and I sensed that a part of him had internalized that. I also sensed that Noah didn’t really like Janet, which was probably the real reason he clung to me and was adjusting to my company seamlessly.
Once the dishes were done, and the leftover food was stored in the fridge, I turned to Noah and clapped my hands. “I think it’s time to get to bed, darling.”
Noah’s face fell immediately. “Do I have to?”
“I’m afraid you do,” I said firmly. “Come on; it’s already past your bedtime.”
“Will you read me a story?” he bargained.
“Now that, I’d be happy to do,” I said, as I led him to the bathroom that was attached to his bedroom.
Once Noah was all ready for the night, I settled into his narrow single bed beside him and picked out a book from his collection. He nestled right next to me, resting his little head against my chest. I felt a tug of maternal love as I breathed in the dewy scent of him.
I was halfway through the book when I realized that Noah had drifted off to sleep already. Happy with my success, I gently extricated myself from his little body and covered him with his Superman sheets. Leaving his nightlight on, I tiptoed out of the room and left the door only slightly ajar so that I would be able to hear him if he woke up.
I walked back into the living room and stared at the picture of Daphne in her uniform. It was so strange for me to be standing there in her living room, having just put her son to bed. I remembered that first awkward meeting more than seven years ago. It was strange to think of everything that had come to pass since then.
“Daphne,” I whispered her name, wondering if by some magic she could hear me. “I’m so sorry. I wish things had been different…for both of us.”
I spent the next few hours sitting in the living room flipping through channels and reading old magazines that were stored underneath the coffee table. But more times than I could count, my gaze drifted to Daphne’s picture. I was looking at her when the phone rang, shocking me out of my senses. I rushed to answer it before Noah could wake up.
“Jake Middleton’s residence?”
“Kristen,” I heard Jake’s familiar voice on the other line. “It’s Jake.”
“Oh, hello,” I said, noting that he sounded slightly concerned. Or maybe he just sounded a little out of it. I wondered if he was more stressed about his big meeting or about the fact that he had entrusted a virtual stranger with his son.
I told him that I had everything under control when he asked about Noah. It was a run of the mill conversation, but I sensed that something was up with Jake. It was almost like he needed someone to talk to. Even after I assured him that Noah was well and sleeping, he stayed on the line basking in a silence that seemed pregnant with some unnamed emotion.
“Uh…is there anything else you wanted to know?” I asked.
“No, I guess I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was…alright.”
“Don’t worry about a thing,” I assured him. “I’ve got everything under control.”
“Thank you.”
I was on the verge of asking him if something was wrong, but I changed my mind at the last minute and chose to ask him about the meeting instead. Soon after, he said goodnight and hung up, leaving me to his silent apartment again.
I turned back to Daphne’s picture, and for a second, it almost felt as though she were staring at me. “Do you mind that I’m here?” I whispered softly.
A second later, I heard a noise come from Noah’s bedroom and then I heard his high-pitched voice call out for me. It gave me little butterflies in the pit of my stomach. It made me feel scared and touched all in the same breath.
“I’m here, Noah,” I called, rushing to his side. “Don’t worry, darling; I’m coming.”
Chapter Seven
Jake
It took three attempts before the damn key fit in the lock. “Fuck,” I muttered to myself. “I had a little too much to drink tonight.”