by Karen Gordon
She felt like she was going to faint. All the sounds around her were muffled, and everything was moving in slow motion. She wavered, then put her hands on her knees and dropped her head. Deep breath, she needed to take a deep breath.
The babies! Her head shot up, and she ran toward the office. She needed to see the babies. Logic said they were OK, but logic told her Nick was OK too.
They were both asleep, taking their afternoon nap together in the Pack-N-Play. She didn’t want to wake them so she squatted on the floor next to their heads and touched them through the mesh. She felt their little bodies moving with their breathing, and she relaxed enough to fall over on the floor next to them and choke out a sob.
♥ ♪ ♥ The funeral was a blur. It seemed like hundreds of people came up to her to express their condolences, but she couldn’t remember anyone in particular. Maureen had shared one of the Xanax she had started taking. She said it would help Carrie get through the funeral and wake without out falling apart. It didn’t matter if she was medicated or not, she was in shock. They all were.
She didn’t cry because it didn’t seem real. Like a story with the ending left hanging, she kept waiting, hoping that someone would tell her the real ending, where he comes home, and they make up, and they live happily ever after. The funeral was closed-casket, so it was easy for Carrie to tell herself that it wasn’t Nick in there. She kept waiting for her young, handsome, funny husband to pull up in the driveway or call her. He was so full of life that his spirit haunted the resort.
She wished she could block out the news that came after the funeral too. The official police report showed that Nick was at fault. He had been drinking, and his blood alcohol level was way over the limit. The Sheriff came to tell them about the report, but that really wasn’t necessary. They could have read about it in the local paper. It was front page news that party boy, Nick Callahan, was drunk when he swerved into the oncoming lane and hit another car head on, killing both occupants, Bill and Carol Martin, ages 82 and 78.
That was how he would be remembered … as the drunk driver who killed two senior citizens. No one would remember the charming, kind, young man who wanted to be a good father and husband, but didn’t know how. No one would remember the sweet, funny guy who mended Carrie’s broken heart.
Maureen and Jack took the news especially hard. Their only child was not only gone, but he was also labeled a murderer. He could never stand trial, defend himself, possibly clear his name. The community, who had always loved them, suddenly felt cold and hostile. All but a few true friends fell away.
♥ ♪ ♥ Ben checked his laptop one more time for updates before his unit reached their target. He hated this city. They had gotten bad Intel from there before, and that had resulted in men walking into an ambush. Now they were back, this time looking for the pocket of insurgents. He had spent weeks working with translators and informants, tracking cell phone usage in the area, analyzing any data available that would point them to the best day and time to strike. He stowed the laptop and grabbed his M16.
“Should be clear to the target house,” he reported to the unit commander, Sgt. Koger. This time the element of surprise should be on their side. If he did his job right, several of the key players should be meeting in the small house with the big storage shed at the end of the alley.
The Sergeant nodded, “stay south with Reed and Willis.” Ben nodded back. The tension in the humvee spiked when they parked outside the alley. Before Ben exited, he followed his ritual for luck. He kissed two of his gloved fingers and pressed them to the faded, dusty photo of a 16-year old Carrie in a blue bikini that he had slid into a tear in the liner on the ceiling.
Most of the men who followed him out of the vehicle did the same. She was the good luck charm of their unit, and most of them only knew her as ‘sweet Carrie’. So far she had done her job and kept them safe. They weren’t about to mess with the mojo and not follow ritual today.
On his lowest days, the picture was there to remind him not to take his eyes off the prize. If you lose focus, you can lose important things, like your buddies or your girl. On a good day, like today, it reminded him of those he was fighting for. Logically, he knew she was married and had a family, but that didn’t change the fact that he still felt a strong connection to her. On the rare days he found himself alone, in a quiet space, he could close his eyes and still feel her, smell her, hear her voice.
Three hours and one minor gun fight later, Ben was back at the base. He stopped by his bunk to get clean clothes before heading to the shower. His roommate had propped a letter from his mom on his desk where he was sure to see it. His shower could wait, he was in no hurry, so he decided to let a little TLC from his mom make this an even better day.
♥ ♪ ♥
At sunset, Sgt. Koger found him sitting in the humvee staring at her photo.
“Problem?”
The Sergeant’s voice shook Ben out of his reverie, “Sir?” “You’re about to miss dinner. Is there a problem?” Ben still had the letter from his mom in his hand.“Bad news from home?”
Ben looked down at the letter, he breathed out a sigh, “yes sir.”
“Something you can tell me about?” He followed Ben’s gaze up to the picture.
“She needs me … and I can’t be there.” Ben swallowed a few times and worked to steady his breathing.
The Sergeant gave Ben a few minutes to collect himself, “I can’t give you leave right now.”
Ben nodded.
“Can you call her?”
“No, sir.”
Ben and the Sergeant stared at the photo.
“She’s been good to us.”
Ben smiled a little and nodded.
“I can’t have my top Intel guy distracted. Is there anything I can do?”
Ben shook his head and shrugged, “Cover for me for a few hours. I’ve got some running and thinking to do.”
“Just keep it on base.” “Yes sir. No worries. I won’t do anything crazy.” He left off, because now I have a reason to get back home, soon, in one piece.
Chapter 31
Maureen fell apart after the newspaper article. She took Xanax night and day and generally stayed in her room. Jack wandered around the resort in a daze, starting projects, then leaving them half finished. He sat in front of the TV with it on every night, watching nothing.
Carrie went into auto-pilot, crisis mode. Just like at home, when everyone fell apart, she took over. They had stopped taking reservations when Nick died, but there were still some guests coming and going who had missed the news. The rest of the staff put in extra time and did additional work to help her out. It wasn’t as smooth as when Maureen ran things, but at least they were still afloat. If anything, the extra work kept her mind off Nick. She crowded her mind with a million details about the resort, and her babies, to keep the tears at bay.
Sissy called her on a Tuesday morning and asked if she could come see Carrie and the babies on Saturday. She offered to bring Christopher too. Her friendship meant more to Carrie than ever before. The reasons her other friends from high school had lost touch with her were varied and all valid, but that didn’t make her feel any less lonely or isolated. Sissy called her every few weeks and occasionally made the two hour drive to visit.
She talked to Christopher often on the phone, but this would be the first time she had seen him since the funeral. She had appointed him official baby watcher during the chaos. He was very responsible for an 8-year-old and took his duties as an uncle very seriously.
Christopher pushed the twins around in their double stroller while Sissy walked around the resort with Carrie. She probably should have stopped working while they were there, but that would put her behind, and she just needed to make deliveries to various cabins, so they could talk while they walked.
Carrie asked about Ben, as she always did. Where he was? How he was doing? She didn’t have the guts to ask if he ever mentioned her. But that question was answered when Sissy gave her a package befo
re she left. It had military post marks on it, and looked like it had come from the other side of the world.
That night, after the babies went to sleep and the house was quiet, Carrie opened a beer and sat down on her bed with the package. It was addressed to her care of Sissy in Ben’s precise handwriting. She ran her fingers across the address, remembering watching him write out his homework when they used to study in his room. He had a certain way of holding his pen in his long fingers. She could see him doing the same thing, in his room, at some base in Afghanistan.
The packing tape was too hard to pry open. She found a knife in the kitchen and brought it back to her room to cut through the heavy wrapping. A CD fell out onto her lap, followed by a letter. She took another swig of beer before opening the letter. It was dated two weeks earlier.
Carrie, I got the news about Nick from my mom today, and I am so sorry for your loss. I obviously never met him, but I am assuming he was a great guy if he was able to talk you into marrying him.
I know it’s been a long time since you heard from me, and I never replied when you wrote to tell me you were pregnant and getting married. You asked me to be your friend then, to be there for you, but I was so pissed off about losing you that I wasn’t able to do that. I’m sorry for that.
I’m asking you to give me another chance, to be your friend, to be there for you, even if I can’t be there in person. I hope you still have the bear I left for you. Believe me when I tell you he carries a piece of my heart that I left there with you. Hold on to him ‘til I can get there in person.
Even if I haven’t written, you have been on my mind every day. I have a picture of you that I keep in the humvee my unit uses when we leave base. It’s the one MG took of you in her bikini. The one I put on the outside of my locker at camp. You are my good luck charm, my guardian angel. I touch your picture before I go out on a mission. Most of my unit does too. They call you ‘Sweet Carrie’, and they want me to thank you for keeping us all safe.
I guess your life is pretty busy right now. Your babies must be more than a year old. Are they boys? Girls? What are their names? If you aren’t too busy, please write me and tell me about your life. I want to hear it all, anything and everything, even the sad parts. I want to know it all.
I don’t know when I will get back to the states. My best guess right now would be maybe sometime next summer. Until then, know that I still love you. I always will.
Ben Ben Bear! Carrie had forgotten about Ben Bear. Although she was sobbing, she starting digging through the last few boxes she had never unpacked when she moved in with Nick. It was at the bottom of the stack, but she knew it was the right box immediately.
Sure enough, Ben Bear was in there, along with all those memories she had stored up from her year with Ben. She didn’t sleep that night. She drank beer, and cried, and went through her memento box, piece by piece. Every item reminded her of how special he made her feel, and how cared for, cherished, and protected she had felt. It was like being there, with Ben, in their own private world, again. Her locket from Dorothy was in there. She put it on. It felt warm and heavy against her chest. There was no way she was taking it off again.
The next morning she remembered the CD. She wanted privacy to listen to it, but the only CD player she had was the one on the office computer. While Gracie and Ben were napping in their pack and play she put the disc in and waited … “My Pretty Adriana” by Vince Gill started to play. It was the song from their first date, when she made fun of his country music. She laid her head on her arms, on the desk, and let his beautiful voice and the words float over her ‘til she fell asleep.
Chapter 32
Writing to Ben was a slow process. Composing the first note took her over a week and a half. After everyone else was asleep, she would sit on her bed and try to figure out what she wanted to tell him. She started by telling him about the twins. That was easy. She included a picture of them, and wrote about the cute things they were starting to say, and how they got into everything, now that they are walking.
Talking about herself or the resort wasn’t as easy. First, her days were really boring; busy, but boring. Did he really want to know about trying to find someone to fix the sump pump on the fish cleaning station? The most exciting thing in her week was getting a shower, and unfortunately, that often happened once a week. Ben could count himself lucky he wasn’t there with her.
The resort was also in big financial trouble. Maureen and Jack were the heart of the place, and without them it was like a dying patient on life support. Bookings were way down. Carrie had to lay off all but one of the maids, and reduce other employees to part-time. She really didn’t want to tell him her troubles when he was in Afghanistan. It felt like she was whining about small things to someone who had much bigger fish to fry.
So she wrote about going through her memento box, and all the great times they had together. She told him that she had Ben Bear on her bed, and slept with him every night. And she told him that she was wearing Dorothy’s locket, and that it made her feel more like he was with her.
Mail going back and forth between the States and active duty soldiers was slow too. Sissy said her letters took anywhere from two weeks to a month to reach him, so not to expect a reply right away.
His reply letter came two months later. It was sweet, but a little reserved, like hers. There was a lot he couldn’t tell her about his days because it was classified, and there wasn’t much to do in his time off that was worth writing about. He loved the picture of the kids and told her he was honored that she named her son after him. And he asked her if she now feared both twins would both grow up to be like their namesakes. Carrie laughed, that wasn’t her fear, it was her hope. He pressed for more information about the resort and her in-laws. It was almost like he could still read between her lines and tell when she was keeping things from him.
It was frustratingly slow, but they were getting to know each other all over again. They had both experienced a lot since the morning he left for basic training four years earlier.
Writing the second letter to him was even harder. Things were spinning out of control at the resort, and now Maureen and Jack were gone too. They had both stopped doing resort work after Nick died, but they watched Ben and Gracie so Carrie could work. Now she was juggling motherhood with a full-time job for at least two people.
In an effort to ease her depression, Jack finally convinced Maureen to go on a long vacation with him in the RV. Everyone, including Carrie, thought it would be a good idea if she got away from the place that was a constant reminder of Nick.
♥ ♪ ♥ Ben knew he had the right place. His mom had given him very specific directions, and he used his new GPS to find Callahan’s Fish Camp. He parked his jeep in front of the office. The hand-written sticky note on the locked door said, ‘Use this to call for assistance.’ Next to it was a baby monitor handset. He peaked though the window and the blinds into the office. The twins were sleeping, crammed together on the floor of a portable crib. He studied their faces, looking for signs of Carrie.
The place wasn’t very big, so he decided to walk around and see if he could find her. As he walked down a steep driveway to the pool he thought he might have hit pay dirt. There was a pair of long, very slim legs with cutoff denim shorts at the top laying on the side of the pool. Whoever they belonged to was bent forward, hanging over the edge of the empty pool, working on something. When he saw the baby monitor next to her, he knew. He blew a loud wolf-whistle through the fence.
Carrie heard the whistle, but figured some guests must be flirting with each other. Or, god forbid, one of the maintenance guys was whistling at a guest. Shit. Well, she couldn’t be bothered with it right now. The slime and mold was growing as fast as she could clean the tiles on this stupid pool. Who the hell puts a pool right next to a lake anyway? She wondered for the thousandth time.
She was still scrubbing away, trying to finish before the babies woke up, when she heard the crunch of boots approaching. Tony. It
had to be Tony, the new maintenance kid. He spent more time asking her questions than working. She thought about ignoring him, but that wouldn’t do much good. She rolled over and sat up then glared at the owner of the boots.
Her heart stopped.
Ben smiled at her. “Ben! Oh, my god, Ben!” She jumped up and jumped onto him for a hug before she even thought about the fact that she was wearing moldy rubber gloves doused in cleaning solution, that were now around his neck.
♥ ♪ ♥ He hugged her tight and breathed in, expecting to smell Carrie, but all he got was strong cleaning solution. And the girl in his arms was thin, really thin. She had always been curvy and soft, this girl had thin arms and legs and hips that were showing above the too-big shorts that were barely hanging on. He felt like an asshole for thinking it, but he was shocked by how thin she was.
He wanted to squeeze tighter, but he was seriously afraid he might break her. There was no way she weighed more than 110 lbs. He set her down and stepped back to look at her face. Carrie was there. He could see her in spite of her tired eyes and thin face. He smiled at her because he was happy to see her and finally be here with her, but inside he was cringing, not out of disgust, but because her life was clearly much harder than he knew.
She pulled away, “Oh, sorry.”
He was afraid for a minute that she had read his thoughts; then she looked at the gloves before pulling them off. He shook his head, letting her know it didn’t bother him, then he took a step back and opened his hands, “Surprise.”
♥ ♪ ♥ Carrie laughed, but she was distracted by the man before her. He was clearly still in great shape, like when he left for basic, but this man, well, he was a man, not a 17-year old boy. His face was a bit rougher, he had a phenomenallysexy five o’clock shadow, and blue eyes that had seen war. It showed in their depth.
“Oh, my god!” she squealed. “I can’t believe you’re here! When did you get here? When did you get home?”