I Know the Plans

by Melissa Wardwell

  Two months and no word.

  The day before her niece was born was the last time she heard from Brad. Forty-eight hours later, two service men, a United States Army messenger and a chaplain, appeared on her doorstep. At first, she feared the worst. She was quickly told that his unit had come under attack and there was no word on Brad’s whereabouts or condition. All they could tell her was that he was missing and there was no chatter of his captivity from enemy insurgents.

  A ping from her phone indicated a received message. Without looking, she knew it had to be her mom. Every morning since Brad went MIA her mom would text.

  Mom: Good Morning, sweetie. Any word? Love you.

  Of course, there had been no word. If there had, she would not be in bed.

  Me: Not yet. Love you too.

  She grew weary of the lack of answers and nights crying on his pillow while she wrapped herself in every last shirt of his she could find. She wanted to blanket herself in his scent but dreaded the thought of washing it. It was better to wear the same shirt a few days in a row, she told herself.

  Before Tiffany was consumed by sleep again, the doorbell forced her to climb out of bed. It’s a good thing that leggings and an oversized army t-shirt make great day and night wear. Whoever was rude enough to grace her door at such an early hour would have to deal with any bed head and dragon breath she might have.

  Padding her way to the main entrance, memories of the day she and Brad walked through the 1885 Victorian Italianate mansion flooded her mind. Dreams of opening a bed and breakfast danced in their heads, at least until a couple of weeks before Brad went missing. In their last conversation they talked about making it a retreat center of sorts. Now she was left with finishing the work and living on hold until she heard more.

  She and Brad purchased the house soon after Ryan and Emma remarried last Christmas Eve. It housed seven bedrooms, five bathrooms, three porches, and plenty of fun places to hide out.

  Tiffany’s favorite place in the house was the suite she and Brad inhabited in the west wing. They had their own living room, bathroom, bedroom, and even private access to a small porch. The only reason they had to leave the west wing of the house was to go to the kitchen. Sadly, the house was currently in a state of mass destruction as they were in the final stages of the remodel.

  The doorbell rang once more as she passed the grand staircase that led to the second floor. She and her crew worked for days to strip years of paint from the original woodwork. It was one of the crowning jewels of the house.

  She planned to be further along than things were, but finding a contractor who could take orders from a woman was hard to locate. That was until she met Ryder Townsend, contractor by day, death metal rocker by night.

  At first glance, he was rather unorthodox in looks. His arms were littered with colorful and thought out tattoos with large gauges in each ear. His long, dark locks hung over his shoulders. Looks aside, his credentials were stellar. He had a hand in building projects that spanned from Guatemala to Canada and Japan to Kenya.

  Just as she reached the door, the doorbell rang again. “Someone’s impatient.”

  Of all the people that could have been standing on the other side of the door, her sister-in-law, Emma, was not someone she expected to see. Tiffany opened the door and a blast of cold air followed the mother and her newborn in.

  “What are you two doing out in that wind?” Tiffany asked as she took hold of the car seat her bundled niece was in so Emma could get her coat off.

  “I took the kids to school and thought I would come by for coffee. Didn’t you get my text?”

  “No. Just one from mom.”

  Sympathy etched Emma’s face as she stepped toward her and wrapped her in a hug. Tiffany didn’t have the heart to tell her the looks and hugs were getting old.

  “Oh, Sis. I am so sorry. I am sure you just want to escape once in a while. I know I did.” She held up a white sack, “I brought a way to drown the sorrows, Lance’s Bakery doughnuts.”

  Emma grinned as she wiggled her eyebrows. She knew that short term healing could always be found in sweet treats.

  Once they settled, the women enjoyed small talk as they cooed over little Ami. The renewed hurt of holding a bundle that was not her own tempered down each time Tiffany held her niece. The ever present sadness had no hold on her when she gazed at the heart shaped lips of such a beautiful face.

  “So, how are you really doing?” Emma’s voice broke through the trance.

  “I’m okay.” Tiffany hoped that it would be enough of an answer.

  “Not working, girl. Talk to me. Your brother and I worry about you.”

  Tiffany put Ami back in her car seat, stalling long enough to gather her thoughts. What was acceptable? Did she give her the raw truth or generalized thoughts? Emma would insist I give it to her straight.

  “Honestly?” she asked.

  “Well, honesty is best. You know I am safe to talk to. You’ll receive no judgment from me.”

  Pressure began to build at the thought of the hell her husband must be enduring while she sat and had a coffee. It wasn’t fair to him or the rest of his men.

  “I’m mad. I’m confused. I want my husband found. I need answers. You and I both know he won’t be the same when he gets home, if he gets home. It has been so long since we had any word that I can’t help but think that death would be a blessing for him. I don’t want him to be gone, yet it would hurt more to see him suffer and struggle. I’ve been briefed repeatedly on what to expect. I have no illusions of running into his arms this time and…” her throat tightened. “And I know that the mental healing will take much longer than the physical. It doesn’t seem like much of a life.”

  Tiffany watched her sister-in-law for some indication of shock at the confession.

  “Is that really what you think?”

  “I know it sounds heartless. I guess I am trying to keep a distance from it all by burying myself in work. I try not to think about it, so come nighttime, when the house is empty, well….” She couldn’t finish without breaking down. She wanted her husband home more than anything. He was her world, but fear of the unknown left the logic and emotion fighting within her.

  A tap on her suite door broke in through their conversation. Looking at the antique clock she and Ryan found at a flea market, she knew just who it was.

  She opened the door to greet her contractor.

  “Running late?” She pointed to the clock on her wall.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Gig ran late last night.” She noted the rings under his eyes and the grit in his voice. Ryder’s incessant need to burn the candle at both ends looked to be catching up with him. His sleep patterns mixed with extra strength coffee and meal bars concerned her. If Emma knew how much concern she had for the young rocker, she might say it was inappropriate. In reality, Tiffany saw him like a best friend, a brother even.

  “I had some girl that wouldn’t disengage herself from my side last night. I had to sick the bouncer on her just to get her out of the building.” His mouth turned up on one side.

  At that moment, the rest of her crew walked through the front door. Tiffany excused herself to handle business just as little Ami began to fuss. She looked back at Emma in time to see her prepping to feed the little one. She would have plenty of time and privacy while Tiffany gave directions to the guys.

  She took her clipboard that rested on the makeshift table in the middle of the living room, then moved to the huddle with a clipboard in one hand and a pencil in the other. “Dave, Eric, and Jack, I want you guys to clean up the rooms upstairs. That way I can start bringing furniture in. Ryder and Jason will finish up the paint work down here in the living room.” She glanced one more time at her list, noting one more detail, a rather important one. “I have a guy coming later to run gas lines and electrical in the kitchen. Then we can bring in the appliances. We are almost done guys.”

  Tiffany was eager to cook some real meals in her state of the art kitchen. Not only
did she have a love for restoring old homes, she enjoyed creating home cooked meals for large groups. Meals for one were pretty boring.

  If things ran smoothly, she should be ready to open for business the first of the year. She could also start getting the decorations together for Mike and Jill’s July wedding. She’d spent more hours than she should have on decorations over the weekend. Hosting the wedding of her best friend would be an honor. Anything to keep her from overthinking where Brad could possibly be.

  With the guys back to work, Tiffany made her way back to her suite. More of a visit with her sister-in-law was just what she needed.

  As she walked through the living room, she could feel someone’s eyes on her. It sent prickles down her spine. Once she reached her door, she looked back only to lock eyes with Ryder. He gave her a wink then went back to work. Warning bells sounded in her head. Something had changed, she wasn’t sure what.

  “What have you done, Tiffany?” Emma’s voice hissed before she could even enter the room.

  “What do you mean?” All of a sudden she felt like the naughty kid standing in front of the school principal because they had been caught doing something wrong.

  “Do you not see it?” Emma patted Ami’s back, coaxing a little burp.

  “Em, will you just tell me what you’re talking about? It is too early and not enough cups of coffee for guessing games.”

  “You are clueless, aren’t you? Do you not see how Ryder looks at you? It’s like he wants to devour you.” Emma pierced Tiffany with a look, “What is going on while your husband is gone?”

  “Emma, I promise, my heart only belongs to Brad. I have no idea what you are seeing. I don’t treat him any different from the rest of the guys.” She wouldn’t admit that their relationship was more of a close friendship than an employer and employee. There were many lunch breaks shared and deep conversations had.

  Now that she thought about it, maybe things had crossed a line. She was supposed to be pining all these months for her husband, and she was, yet it was possible she was letting her friendship with Ryder become a little more intimate than it should.

  “I can see the guilt on your face, Sis. It is more than work.” Tiffany saw no judgment in Emma’s eyes, only concern. “I won’t say anything more, just be careful. You are vulnerable right now with Brad missing. Don’t jump ship until you have answers.”

  Tiffany knew she was right. Things were too crazy right now.

  “I guess it just happened. We’ve had some nice talks, like Brad and I do. Maybe I have been letting Ryder fill the hole. I promise, I’ll step back.”

  “Promise? Brad will need all of you when he comes home.”

  “I promise. If you see something again, tell me.”

  The rest of the visit, they bounced between topics. First was small talk about Tiffany’s niece and nephews, Stephen, Aaron, and Sarah, and how they were adapting to school and the new baby. Then to Jill and Mike’s wedding, finally back to Brad.

  “Em, I don’t know what I would do without Brad.” Emotion grabbed tight to her throat. “He’s been my world for almost ten years. We’ve gone through so much together. He has been my rock even when he was overseas. I know I can never find that connection again. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to.”

  The dam that held back the tears broke when Emma shifted Ami and wrapped Tiffany in a motherly hug. With her own parents out of town, Emma had filled that void.

  At that moment, an urgent knock sounded, and Ryder peeked his head in. “Your phone was on the table out here.” His eyes were hesitant, “I answered it. It’s a Major Andrew Mitchell.”

  “He’s Brad’s S.O..” She rushed to take the phone. “Andy?”

  “Hello, Tiffany. You seated?”

  She backed up to sit in the chair that sat by the door. “I am now. Can I take the fact that you aren’t at my front door that this is good news?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We have found your soldier. He is on his way home.”

  CHAPTER 2

  ACCORDING TO MAJOR Mitchell, Brad was a mess. He had been found on the side of a road fifty miles from the base camp. Of course, he couldn’t tell her where that was. Apparently, an elder of one of the nearby tribes called in the discovery.

  “His injuries are extensive from what I am being told. Its touch and go,” the Major explained. Due to the Major being stateside, he was receiving information in pieces as doctors at Brad’s side assessed his injuries. Until he knew more, they were sitting on the edge of their seats. She knew what the protocol was; they would take him to Germany first, then home. The Major didn’t say that was the course of action, but hinted he might just be coming home.

  Three days felt like three years when the life of the one she loved hung in the balance. Three long, agonizing days and Tiffany wasn’t sure how much more she could wait. Everything was getting on her nerves. She was beginning to act like a crazy woman and she knew it.

  Country music blasted from the living room while she crouched, pinned between the wall and the refrigerator in the kitchen. Ryder was on the other side of the refrigerator, grumbling about the guys’ music choice. She thought she heard phrases like “sounds like old man music” and “please make it stop”. Tiffany laughed to herself as she hooked up the waterline to the backside of the appliance. Being the smallest worker, she was the obvious candidate for the job.

  “Ryder, can you hand me a piece of tape from the island there?”

  His hand came around the side with the pice of tape stuck to his fingers.

  “Okay, that looks like things are set,” Tiffany stated as she shimmied from behind the industrial-size refrigerator once the tape was in place.

  “What was the tape for?”

  “I taped the line to the back so that it didn’t move around.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. It’s against the wall.” It was clear to Tiffany that Ryder knew little of her need for things to be in their places properly.

  “It will stay neat and clean, the way I like it and since I am staying, and you will be going, we will do things my way. Okay?” Tiffany tilted her head to one side and gave Ryder the cheesiest grin she could come up with.

  “Whatever you say, boss.” He gave her his signature smile and winked. He had to stop doing that. It messed with her and she needed to focus on her work and her husband. Did Ryder even care that she was married?

  “You’re right, it is whatever I say. Now, let’s get this stove hooked up. These are the last few details before this place is finished.”

  She knew that her willingness to work hard and longer than usual was a way to hold back any concerns she had for her husband. Just keep working and the time will pass. At least she hoped.

  “Knock, knock?” a higher pitched female voice came from the front of the house; a voice that could only belong to her dear friend, Jill. “Is anyone home?”

  “In the kitchen,” Tiffany responded.

  She was surprised to see Mike come around the corner with Jill. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have office hours to keep?”

  Doctor Michael Emerson had recently opened his own practice in a small, nearby town. It was at Tiffany’s brother and sister-in-law’s wedding that he and Jill reconnected.

  “Not today. A doctor has to take a break every now and then.”

  “So, any word?” Jill interjected. So, this was the reason for the visit.

  “Not yet. The waiting is getting old though.”

  “Do you want Mike to make a call?”

  Tiffany smiled and shook her head. “What would he do? He isn’t with the V.A.”

  “Anyone home?!” another visitor asked from the front of the house. This one sounded like her brother.

  Ryan owed his life to Brad, so having him stop by was no surprise. He had called or texted her three times a day since she told him of Brad’s situation.

  “In the kitchen, Bro.”

  When Ryan came into view, Tiffany couldn’t help but laugh. Strapped to his chest was Ami. He hel
d her bottom with one hand while his other gripped his cane. She couldn’t imagine it being easy to carry a baby in a front carrier while limping on a bum leg.

  “Look at you. Need a little help?” Tiffany helped her brother extract Ami from the carrier. Once she held her niece in her arms she began to sway to and fro, humming in a low tone as the sweet angel closed her eyes. The feel of the little babe in her arms brought a calmness to her heart.

  The voices of those she loved faded into the background as she lost herself in the peace the baby offered. For a fleeting moment, all the cares melted away. It was just Tiffany and her niece.

  Then the phone rang from her pocket. Upon retrieving the device, she noted the unusual phone number. It had to be the hospital. She handed the baby off to Jill and stepped into the butler’s pantry.

  “Hello?”

  “Is Mrs. Jones available?” the voice with a slight accent asked.

  “This is she.”

  “Mrs. Jones, I’m Sergeant Gardner. I apologize for not calling sooner. We wanted to assess your husband as soon as he landed. It took longer than anticipated.”

  At the first pause the doctor took, Tiffany intercepted. “Is he okay? I mean, is he talking? Has he asked for me?”

  “He was sedated through the ride here and we have kept him that way while we did EEG’s, CT Scans, blood work, and any other test we could. We wanted him to stay calm and motionless while we did those.”

  Images of a lifeless Brad flashed in her mind causing her throat to constrict and tears to pool. She heard that people could still hear you and talk to you when sedated. A longing to be near him grew more desperate. She needed to hold his hand and whisper words of love and encouragement in his ear. “When can I come, Sergeant Gardner?”

  “Well, actually, we are sending him home to the veteran’s hospital in Ann Arbor. We can’t do anything for him here that can’t be done in the comfort of his own state with those who love him near.”

  Sobs of joy began to pour from her. Her husband was coming home. She could hear the doctor asking if she was okay, but she struggled to respond in an understandable way. She could only confirm with a whimper.