In the Stillness (6 page)

“Remember,” Tosha said, placing a hand on my shoulder, “don’t fall apart, okay?”

“Tosh . . .” I rolled my eyes, we’d been over this.
 

“You’re both going to be scared shitless, but neither one of you can let the other one know. He’ll be brave for you, you’ll be brave for him, and that’s how you’ll leave things. Just trust me, okay? That’s what my uncle said it was like when he left my aunt during Vietnam. You’re strong for each other. That’s it.” It was the most serious string of sentences to ever come from Tosha Danbury’s mouth.

“You better have wine and cupcakes for me when I get back.” I tried to joke, but we just stared at each other.

“Of course. I love you, Nat. You can do this.”

I can’t tell you how I got there that day. I can tell you that my dress was red. And that I never wore it again. I gripped the wheel with all my might and drove until my car stopped at the place I was supposed to say goodbye. There was no band, no parade, and I felt far less glamorous than the World War II women I’d seen in pictures.
 

I spotted Ryker’s dad first; he seemed to be waiting for me near the entrance.
 

“Ready, Kid?” he asked, wrapping my shoulders into his arm.

We really
were
just kids.

When we walked into the large hall, I was nearly brought to my knees at the scene.
Families
. There were families everywhere. There was laughing, but mostly crying and hugging; apparently an overwhelming amount because I didn’t realize I’d stopped in the doorway.

“Come on, Hon, I see them up ahead.”

Them
was Lucas, his parents, and who I gathered to be his grandparents, a woman I recognized from pictures to be Ryker’s mom—who lived in Wyoming—and then, Ryker. It was the first time I’d ever seen him in fatigues, aside from pictures, and as soon as his eyes met mine and a smile forced its way across his face, I lost it. I didn’t crumple to the floor in a heap, but I simply couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face.
 

Ryker hurried over to me and lifted me into a full body hug.

“No tears,” he whispered, “I’m gonna be good—it’s gonna be good.” Yeah, he was comforting
me
as he was about to embark on the scariest thing I could think of.

I nodded when he set me down, trying to force words through my shaking throat.

“Julia.” Ryker’s dad, Bill, came around me and hugged Ryker’s mom. She quickly wiped her eyes before turning to me.

“You must be Natalie, it’s nice to meet you.” I stuck out my hand, but she wrapped her arms around me instead.

Ryker’s sister, Crystal, couldn’t be there as she was in the Peace Corps in Africa. I got to meet Lucas’s parents, too, and for several minutes the families stood around, facing Ryker and Lucas, who looked remarkably relaxed next to one another. Lucas was positively beaming, in fact. Mistakenly, I looked around the room when we were told we only had a few minutes left.

Wives clutched their husbands as toddlers played on the floor between them, a female guardsman sang her daughter a song while she put clips in her hair, and another member was crouched down in front of his wife, kissing her visibly pregnant belly. Each one of these soldiers had entire lives they were leaving at the drop of a hat—at the call of war.

I wanted to tell him not to go, to sink to my knees and grab his legs like a child in a tantrum; but Tosha’s voice reminded me to keep it together. I walked toward Lucas and gave him a hug first.
 

“Be safe,” was all I could say.

Seriously?

“We will, Nat.” His smile might have convinced me, if there wasn’t sobbing all around us.
 

All the parents and grandparents hugged the boys. I didn’t know much at the time about Ryker’s relationship with his mom, other than it was strained, but he rubbed her back and wiped her tears as she stepped away from him.
 

And then it was my turn.
 

What started out as casual dating several months ago was anything but, in that moment. My chest hurt at the thought of having to walk out of that building in a few short minutes. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want
him
to go.

“Bye.” I buried my face into his shoulder and my entire body shook.

So much for keeping your shit together, Nat.

“I love you, Nat.” It wasn’t a whisper; everyone heard.

“I love you too,” I managed before kissing him long and hard on the lips.
 

He squeezed me desperately, before pulling away and giving me a nod and a smile.

“I’ll call the first chance I get, K?”

I nodded. “Just come home.”

He took my shoulders and bent down so we were eye-to-eye. “I will.”

In hindsight, I should have said something like
come home with Lucas, come home as a whole person.

 
I didn’t.

Ryker’s dad gave Lucas a hug; Lucas’s dad did the same for Ryker.

“You boys take care of each other, you hear me?” Bill spoke sternly.

“Yes sir,” they half-chuckled in unison.

And that was it. I don’t remember anything else about the final seconds. All I know is I made it to my car and exactly halfway back to my dorm before pulling over and screaming and crying into my steering wheel.
 

* * *
 

I pull my head from a different steering wheel when I hear Eric’s voice.

“Natalie,” he speaks through the half-opened window.

A quick glance at the clock tells me I’m going to be late.

He leans down. “I’m sorry about what happened with Dan—”
 

“Fuck off, Eric. I have to go get the boys.”

Chapter 7

I managed to get to the boys’ school five minutes before pick up, so I had time to practice slow breathing and get the splotchiness out of my face before walking into the building. Eric has texted me about ten times, going on about how sorry he is at how he treated Danielle, mixed with his anger at my lack of respect for him in front of a student.
 

That girl wasn’t just a student.
Dammit.
Thinking about her causes me to wipe my eyes again while the boys chase each other at the playground. The pride she had when telling me her boyfriend is a Marine, steeped in her conspicuous fear, was heartbreaking. I know
exactly
how she’s feeling right this very second and there’s absolutely nothing I—or anyone else—can do for her.

Stop thinking about this, Nat . . .

Eric’s texts finally stop around dinner. I haven’t responded to a single one, and keep myself busy making forts and laughing with my boys. After dinner and bath, it’s time for bed. Max, named after Eric’s grandfather, picks out a Batman book.

Oliver, named after—you guessed it—my grandfather, joins in, “Mommy, when I get bigger I can be a superhero.”

“Absolutely,” I say, closing the book. “You can be a police officer, or a firefighter—”

“Or an Army guy!” Max cheers.

“Yeah, an Army guy!” Ollie agrees with a yawn.

“Mhmm,” I divert the topic, “or a doctor, they’re superheroes too, you know.”

“I want to be an Army guy.” Max yawns. Ollie’s already asleep.

“They’re called soldiers. Night, Baby.” I tuck them in and kiss their cheeks.

“I love superheroes,” Max says as he drifts to sleep.
 

“Me, too,” I whisper, kissing his cheek once more.

I close their door tightly behind me and take a deep breath with my hand still on the handle, trying not to put too much weight into the words of carefree four-year-olds.

As soon as I walk into the kitchen, Eric comes through the door.

Can I catch a damn break today?

I only look at him from the corner of my eye before turning my back, reaching for one wine glass and pouring myself a slightly too-full glass.

“Please be quiet, they just fell asleep.”
 

“Natalie, I understand that you’re upset—”

“Clearly you don’t, or you’d leave me the hell alone.” I gulp the wine three times, causing my eyes to water. “You were an absolute prick to that poor girl today, Eric, and it was totally uncalled for.” I toss the wineglass into the sink. It shatters, and I don’t care as I turn for the hallway.

“Hey!” He lunges for me and grabs my arm, spinning me around. “You disrespected me in
my
office in front of one of
my
students, and you’re mad at
me?
” When he’s mad, really mad, a vein pulses down the center of his forehead.

“The girl was a mess and you were a total pompous ass.”

“Students come to us all the time with stuff, Natalie. Only so many grandparents and aunts can die before you become a cynic.”

I try to tug my arm away, but he grips harder. “Did you not see the horror on her face? What the hell is wrong with you? She was as scared as she’s ever been in her whole life, and you didn’t even look at her; you couldn’t be bothered to address her.” As the tears fall, it hits him.

“She’s not you, Nat.” His tone is somewhere between condescending and remorseful.
 

“That’s what you don’t get. She
is
me—they’re
all
me—and to talk to her about her
responsibilities
—”

“Is this all because you went to that kid’s grave the other day? Is that why you’re being so sensitive?”

“Fuck you, Eric,” I growl.

“Well, that’s two “fuck you’s” for me today, you got any more?” I jump when he shouts.

“Yeah, I do. Fuck you for forgetting that
that kid
has a name—it’s Lucas, Lucas Fisher. Fuck you for pretending I don’t know
exactly
how Danielle felt standing in your office. And . . . just . . . fuck you.”

I turn again to leave and he tugs me back once more.

“Let go of me,” I let out in a low, calculating tone.
 

He shakes his head, hopeless panic in his eyes. “I’m not going to let you go. Not ever. We
need
to figure this out, Natalie. I know the past few years have been hard for you, Honey, I really do, but I’ll be done with my degree in just a few weeks. Then the boys will be in kindergarten in the fall and you can go back to school.”

“If they even accept me, Eric. I got my master’s, taught a few community college classes, and then had the boys. I’m not super employable either; I haven’t worked in so long. And, even if I did get in to the program again, we’d
have
to spend another two semesters in residence
at
the university. For research I’ll have to travel, study, and move.
A lot.
That’s what excited me about the program in the first place, moving all over the world in the name of research.” I tug my hand away. “No one cares about the anthropology of Amity Street. I’m taking a bath.”

“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly I can’t be sure if he’s talking to himself or me.

Yeah, me too.

* * *
 

“Jesus, Nat, you’re a mess. Come here.” Tosha led me to the bed when I got home from saying goodbye to Ryker.

“Oh my God, Tosh, it was awful, just . . .” I broke into heavy sobs and pressed my face into the pillow as she rubbed my back. “Little kids were saying goodbye to their dads,
and moms
, and a guy’s wife was pregnant.”
 

“Yep, it’s a bitch. Not all soldiers are unattached eighteen-year-olds,” she sighed as she played with my hair.
 

“I’ve gotta shower or something,” my voice stuttered uncontrollably against my tears. Screaming wouldn’t help, crying hadn’t helped, but something had to.

I ran to the bathroom and fell to my knees in front of the toilet. I painfully heaved my breakfast for several minutes before leaning back and thumping my head against the tiled wall. I slammed my fists behind me a little harder than planned.
But, it felt good, somehow, to force the frustration, anger, and fear out of my body onto the cold tile. The pain it returned was a physical echo of my emotional hell. I punched it again. And again. And again.
 

Ryker’s gone.

My parents don’t care.

They think it’s great that this “distraction” is out of the picture for a while.

At some point I started yelling and screaming between my punches, causing Tosha to force her way into the bathroom.

“Natalie! Natalie, stop, you’re bleeding!” She grabbed my wrists.

Yep. I was bleeding. The skin on the outside of my hands cracked open against the ragged grout. I was breathless with adrenaline when I met Tosha’s eyes.

“Sorry,” I panted, standing to head to the sink.

“Feeeeeel better?” She stretched out with exaggerated question.

I gripped the sink and stared at my reflection as relief washed over me.
 

“Yeah, actually, I do.” My hands shook but I felt amazing. It felt like I was literally bleeding my anxiety away.