Come Back To Me (31 page)

for the exit. I make for the back door, but Kit intercepts

me. He prises the scalding coffee from my hands and sets

it on the side before pulling me into his arms. I collapse

there and he just holds me without saying a word. I don’t

know how long we stand like that, in the centre of the

kitchen, but my coffee grows cold on the side and it’s

only when the doorbell sounds that he finally lets me go.

Riley walks into the kitchen a few seconds later, wear-

ing his uniform. He hugs Kit first, slapping him on the

back, and I know it’s an apology of sorts for what

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happened with my dad. They have their guy moment

and then Riley walks over to me.

‘You OK?’ he asks, noticing my tear-stained face.

‘Yeah,’ I say.

‘What are you going to do?’ he asks.

‘Stay here,’ I answer.

Riley nods as though he suspected as much.

‘How was he?’ I ask nervously.

He shrugs, and I notice for the first time the dark

circles beneath his eyes. ‘I don’t know. I stayed at Jo’s last

night.’

‘And Mom?’ I feel a twinge of guilt at the mention of

her name, but it’s quickly stamped out by a burst of

anger. She could have stood up for both of us and she

didn’t. She’s never stood up for us.

‘I spoke to her just now,’ Riley says. ‘Said goodbye.’ A

pause. ‘She sounded spaced.’

I look at him, frowning. I wonder if that means she’s

hit the not-so-secret stash of Valium she keeps in the

bathroom cabinet. I can tell that’s what Riley’s implying.

‘I’m sorry,’ Riley suddenly says.

I look up at him, confused, and see the anguish in his

eyes and the guilt splashed across his face. ‘For leaving

you to deal with it alone,’ he adds.

It’s the first time Riley’s ever talked to me about his

decision to enlist, and the buried grudge I was holding

vanishes instantly when I see just how torn up he is by it

and how guilty he feels.

‘It’s OK,’ I say, and I mean it. I don’t want him to feel

guilty.

He gives me a sad, unconvinced smile.

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‘I mean it,’ I say. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.’

‘I’m always going to worry about you. You’re my little

sis,’ he mumbles.

‘We need to go.’

I look up. Kit’s standing in the doorway, his bag at his

feet. Riley checks the time and nods. ‘OK,’ he says before

wrapping his arms around me and hugging me hard. I

hug him back harder.

‘Take care,’ he whispers in my ear. ‘And look out for Jo

for me. And the baby.’

I nod. ‘Take care of Kit for me,’ I whisper back, my

throat closing up.

I feel him nod against me. He kisses me on the top of

my head before he pulls away and glances over at Kit. ‘I’ll

leave you two to it,’ he says and walks out the kitchen,

throwing me a smile backwards as he goes.

Kit steps forward and, taking my face in his hands, tips

my head back so I’m forced to look up at him through a

veil of tears.

‘I love you,’ he says, his voice so fierce it makes some-

thing catch in my chest. ‘I’m going to love you forever.’

I hold onto his hands. Why does he have to leave? It

feels like we’ve only just begun. ‘I love you too.’

He bumps his forehead to mine.

‘Please, take care of Riley,’ I say. ‘Be his good luck

charm, like you were mine.’

He strokes my hair behind one ear. ‘I promise,’ he says.

My lips are against his and I’m crying. ‘Come back to

me,’ I whisper.

‘Always,’ he answers, kissing me for the last time.

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From:
Kit Ryan

To:
Jessa Kingsley [email protected]

Date:
July 7

Subject:
361 days

Hey baby,

Thanks for all your emails. We’ve finally arrived in country. It

took me a while to get an internet connection in the room

but now we’re all set up. I miss you like crazy too. As soon

as I figure out how to get a calling card I’ll call. Internet is

crap so I can’t Skype.

You wouldn’t believe this place. Kabul is pretty much still

a warzone – the US embassy compound is huge – over a

thousand people working here and we’re on permanent high

alert. Our detachment commander isn’t too much of an ass-

hole, though he’s put Riley and me on night shift for the next

three months.

Thanks for the photos by the way J . . . is that an early

Christmas present? When did you steal my phone and take

those? Next time please feel free to pose while I take them.

I’m sharing a room with Riley so I had to lock myself in the

bathroom to enjoy them. And yes, I did put a lock on my

phone.

Did you speak to your mom yet? How’s it going with my

dad? How are rehearsals?

Love you,

K.

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From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
July 25

Subject:
343 days

Your dad insisted on making dinner last night. I’m not sure

the last time he cooked anything more than a boiled egg but

it was super sweet of him. I’m glad you inherited your cook-

ing skills from your mom, though. He misses you – make

sure you email him. I tried to get him to talk about your

mom and my dad by the way, but he changed the subject.

It’s so weird. I’m going to get it out of him eventually.

So . . . you asked if I’d figured out what I was doing and I

have. I’ve decided I’m going to take a year out and try to

save some money. I got a job waitressing part time at the

diner where Jo works. Photo attached of me in my uniform.

Don’t laugh. I felt bad not contributing to the bills here and I

need to buy gas for your truck too. It eats it. Don’t even try

to suggest sending me money again, Kit. It’s so sweet of

you but I’m fine. I have my first waitressing shift this after-

noon. Wish me luck.

Rehearsals are going well. I’ve learned all my lines (all

twelve of them)! We get our costumes soon. You are going

to love it. Mine’s basically a French maid costume.

Gotta run. I’m late.

Love you

Jessa xxx

P.S. Tell Riley to email me.

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From:
Kit Ryan

To:
Jessa Kingsley [email protected]

Date:
August 27

Subject:
310 days

Thanks for the package, baby. I ate all the Reese’s Pieces

already – saving the Skittles. Was I meant to give any to

Riley? Because if I was it’s too late for that.

He was so psyched by the scan photo Jo sent him. He’s

stuck it to the wall by his bed and keeps showing it to

everyone.

I think you should give your mom a chance. Just hear her

out. I wish I could be there with you. You’ve no idea how

much I miss you, how often I dream about you. My phone

battery keeps running low I spend so much time looking at

those photos of you.

Good luck with the dress rehearsal tomorrow. I know

you’ll do great. You should wear your costume to the diner –

I think it would triple your tips. Do you get to keep it? ;)

Kx

From:
Jessa Kingsley

To:
Kit Ryan [email protected]

Date:
August 28

Subject:
309 days

Thank you for the flowers! They’re so beautiful. Even from

the other side of the world you manage to keep your most

romantic boyfriend title. Dress rehearsal starts in two hours.

Sooooo nervous. Did I tell you your dad bought a front row

seat for opening night? He even asked if he could record it

so he could send you a copy. Did you ask him to do that?

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So, the big news is that I spoke to my mom. She came by

the other day. I think your dad had something to do with it

because when I got home from work they were both there,

waiting for me in the living room. It was like an intervention.

The long and short of it is that I’m moving back home. I’m

not sure how you’re going to feel about this. I’m not sure

how I feel about it. Part of me really doesn’t want to go – I’m

so happy here – but another part feels guilty and like it’s the

right thing to do.

My dad has apparently admitted he might have a prob-

lem and my mom says he’s getting help and doing much

better. I figured it’s only going to be for ten months until you

get HOME so I should just bite the bullet. I’m going to pay

my way, though.

I increased my shifts at the diner and Didi’s dad offered

me some part-time work while his assistant is on maternity

leave so I’m managing to save quite a lot, and I’m going to

need every cent . . .

. . . Because I looked into the courses at USC like you

suggested and I’m going to apply for their BFA in acting

for next year. Didi’s having so much fun there, and I keep

imagining you and me living there together in some cool

apartment in Santa Monica. Some place right on the beach

– can you picture it? You opening up your cafe and me

taking classes. It’s just ten months, Kit. Just over three

hundred days. I can’t wait to see you again.

Love you and miss you so much,

Jessa x

P.S. Yes I get to keep the costume. I’m already fantasizing

about the night I wear it and all the things I’m going to do to

you.

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Kit

We’ve been pulling the night shift for eight weeks and

I’m getting used to being nocturnal. It works well, as

Jessa’s twelve hours behind so as I stand on guard duty I

get to imagine her waking up, going about her day, and

when my shift ends I know there’ll be emails from her

waiting for me, and if I’m lucky, some photos too.

I pause halfway to post one, remembering that this

morning she won’t be waking up in our bed but back in

her old one. I wonder how that’s going, how her dad is,

whether her mom was right about him getting treatment.

It’s frustrating being stuck here so far away from Jessa,

and I have a niggling anxiety that worries like an itch

beneath a plaster cast, something I can’t seem to scratch,

that her living back home will change things between us

– that her dad’s anger at me might rub off on her, or that

Jessa will lose some of the confidence she’s gained and

start kowtowing to his demands again. But she seems

pretty set on going to USC next year from what she says,

and I draw some comfort from the fantasy she painted of

us living there.

I roll my hands over my phone in my pocket. The keys

are getting worn from all the scrolling I’m doing over the

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photographs and texts she’s sending.
Fuck, I miss her
, I

think as I crunch across the gravel towards the guard

post, more than I even thought possible. It’s a crescent

moon tonight, thin as a rind of cheese, and the stars are

blazing, reminding me of our last night in the desert. As

always, I fix on the North Star – our star, as I’ve started

thinking of it – and think about Jessa.

‘I’ll take sentry,’ Riley says to me, interrupting my

thoughts.

‘OK,’ I say, nodding at the two guys we’re replacing. I

shrug my gun further up my shoulder and head inside

the guard post.

‘This is alpha one to bravo two, in position,’ I say into

my radio and listen as all the other posts around the

compound radio in.

On automatic, I scan the console, checking all the alarm

systems, before tracking my way through the cameras,

making sure the feeds to all fifty are working.

Through the blast-proof glass I can see Riley standing

sentry at the gate, silhouetted against the floodlights. The

embassy is ringed with twenty-foot-high walls and razor

wire. It’s like a prison. Post one is the main guard post at

the entrance to the embassy compound.

At midnight I swap posts with Riley. He grins and

slaps me on the back. ‘Yo, dude, no staring up at the stars

and jonesing after my sister.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ I laugh, unshouldering my weapon

as I walk out the door.

About five metres out I stop in front of the barrier. I

don’t mind standing on the gate. It’s quiet out here at

night, only a few cars passing by occasionally. The night