Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(41)
“Simon,” he answers on the second ring.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Merry Christmas!”
“Thanks. You, too.” I hesitate, hating the idea of sounding as desperate as I am.
“I have some good news!”
I blink, suspecting I heard incorrectly. “You know this is Claudia, right?”
“Yeah, kiddo, I do.” He chuckles. “Got the call yesterday in the middle of dinner. The feds have what they need. One hundred and fourteen counts, and they’re pretty sure the big ones will stick. They’re arresting him next week. Even if he makes bond, he’ll have an ankle bracelet until they haul his ass to court.”
Speechless, I wait for him to say he’s joking or maybe, they mean Christmas next year. After four years, the words bounce off me rather than penetrating. They’re too surreal to process.
“Did you hear me, Claudia?” Simon prods.
“Yes,” I manage hoarsely. “Yes. You’re saying … you’re saying it’s over? Like really over?”
“It’s over. This will be the last Christmas you have to spend away from your mother.”
“No, really.”
“Really!” he laughs. “I’ve been praying you’d call soon, so I could tell you. It’s your own personal Christmas miracle. Yours and Todd’s.”
“I can’t believe it.”
He says a few more sentences I don’t register in a chipper tone. When he’s quiet, I blink and focus.
“Thank you, Simon,” I murmur. “My god … thank you.”
“I’d wait until after the arrest happens to start calling people,” he advises. “Don’t want to give him the motivation to leave town before Monday.”
“Yeah … sure. I understand.” I hang up without saying farewell, too shocked to care about being polite.
For a very, very long moment, I sit in silence with the disposable phone – my second this month – in my lap.
It’s over.
I’ve dreamt of these words for years. Rather than joy, I feel … overwhelmed. Confused. Hating my way of life, it nonetheless became normal for me. I can’t imagine returning to my old life and going back to college like every other student.
My life is permanently changed. I am permanently changed. Obsessed with day-to-day survival, I try to imagine a life without fear and draw a blank.
Except for Todd. He’ll always be part of my world. And …
Petr. If I could start over, build my life from scratch, I would begin with the man who makes my world a better place, who’s shown more kindness to my brother and me than we’ve ever known. I’d like to think I make his life better, too, or he wouldn’t be so interested.
I can’t see anything else but them in my future.
My gaze goes to the laptop. I tap the mouse pad to wake it up. The smiling faces of Petr, Mikael, and Katya pop up on my computer.
I’ve been yearning to take a chance on him almost since we met, pushing him away while my heart crept closer and closer.
Why do I still experience fear? It’s a different kind, warm instead of cold, but fear nonetheless. Fear of the unknown, uncertainty about the next step in my life. It was always clear before.
What happens when it’s time to stop running? If I’m not moving forward, then where am I going? How do I learn to stay? What is real normal like, and how do I become it after everything I’ve been through?
My hands tremble. My thoughts are too raucous to make sense of, so I flip on the television to drown them out.
I can’t … process everything. I begin working on Anton’s project once more. Something wet causes my finger to smear the mouse pad. I look down, puzzled, and watch as another droplet splashes onto my laptop.
Touching my wet cheek with my hand, I pull it away wet with moisture and realize I’m crying. I set the laptop aside. I’m shaking, overheating and also too cold, panicking and excited. Unable to contain the emotions any longer, I bury my face in a pillow on the couch and sob.
It takes me most of the day to get a hold of myself but finally, after Todd’s fourth text asking me when I’m coming, I take a long, hot shower, hide the signs I’ve been crying with makeup and get ready to go.
A cab takes me through snowy streets to the edge of town. I’m not surprised to see the brightly lit Christmas trees lining the driveway to Petr’s home. The drive is clear, and the courtyard area, as well as the front yard, are packed with vehicles. The driver drops me off at the front door, where a cheerful sign hangs.
Come on in!
I stare at it, start to laugh and then shake my head.
The design is mine, one of those Anton asked me to do. I thought he was playing around for the three weeks of projects.
The moment I step into the foyer, I spot the banner I made him hanging from the rafters supporting the second floor.
Happy Holidays!
“Crafty old man,” I murmur.
The coatroom is open, and I place my jacket there. The house is huge; I don’t blame them for coming to the door every time someone arrives. Likewise, I don’t know it well enough to know where I’m supposed to go.
I head towards the kitchen and the sunroom where we had brunch. The house smells of food, and it looks like they added another layer or two of decorations everywhere. Twinkling lights, splashes of red, green, and gold, trees, presents, stockings and all kinds of winter décor pack the walls, line the hallways and clutter and dangle from every surface. There are groups of people, platters of food and places to sit in the formal rooms I pass. I don’t recognize anyone at all, and the sense of not belonging bothers me.