Beyond the Point(50)
“Sapper School?” he’d said. “Really?”
“I think I can do it,” replied Hannah.
“I know you can do it,” he’d said. “I just don’t see why you’d want to. Those guys will hurt you on purpose, just to prove a point.”
“No they won’t. And even if they did, should that stop me from trying? Why do you want to get a Ranger tab?” Hannah had added defiantly. “It’s the same thing.”
Tim leaned back in his chair, sighed, and put his glasses back on his face. Ranger School was the Army’s most intense, brutal training. It was a rite of passage, a symbol of capability, an immediate indicator that an officer could be trusted, and the most direct path to the Special Forces, which had been Tim’s dream since childhood. Sapper School wasn’t nearly that extreme, but it held a similar cachet, and when Hannah arrived in Fort Bragg to lead her first platoon, she wanted her soldiers to know that she was a serious leader, serious about the Army. If anyone could understand that, she knew Tim would.
“Well then I guess we have to get you ready, Rocky,” Tim had said, looking around the deck of the ship. “They got any stairs we can run around here?”
True to form, they’d spent their last few weeks together preparing. They went on long, fast runs through the hills of Santorini. He held her feet while she did sit-ups in the ship’s fitness center. At night, they’d drink an entire bottle of Italian wine before walking back to their room, where Tim would undress his wife slowly and lay her down against the bed. He’d made her work hard, but he’d rewarded her for it, too.
In the three years since they’d gone dancing at Cullum Hall, Tim Nesmith had completely transformed her life, and she his. The entire corps of cadets was shocked to learn that they’d paired off—Tim was known for his wild escapades on the skydiving team, while Hannah’s nickname was Miss Congeniality. At school, she and Tim would stay up late, having long conversations about religion and God and family. They’d dream about their future.
“Is that what you want?” he’d asked early on in their dating relationship, after Hannah had described her grandparents. “To grow up and be like Barbara? House. Kids. Ranch.”
“I don’t know,” Hannah had said. “It’s not a bad life.”
“But what about a career? Do you want to work or stay at home?”
“Do I have to have an answer right this second?”
“No, of course not. You can change your mind a million times. I just wonder what you picture. That’s all.”
At the time, Hannah didn’t exactly have a vision of what she wanted. She imagined getting married. Having children. But she’d been successful at West Point, far more successful than she’d even expected. At the time, her junior year, she’d ranked in the top one hundred of their class, even higher than Tim. Uncertain, she’d shrugged. “What do you picture?”
“My parents have such a traditional marriage,” Tim had said. “Mom stayed home. Dad worked. She packs his lunch, even to this day. And at night, she fixes his dinner plate, like he’s a child. I don’t think I could do that. I don’t want some wife that just sees herself as my servant or something. I want an equal. A teammate.”
From that point forward, that’s how they’d built their relationship. As a team. They always supported one another, always encouraged one another. In the summer, when West Point offered them different assignments or schools, they went, without talking about the distance. It wasn’t always easy. They’d broken up for an entire semester junior year, after Tim had admitted to kissing another girl while he was at Air Assault School. That all felt so silly now. So long ago. His accident had brought them back together, and now, Hannah couldn’t imagine a life without him.
A lesser man might have told Hannah to slow down—to choose a low-key Army career that could more easily follow his path. But Tim told her to live out loud. To take on the challenge of Sapper School. To chase greatness while they still had the chance.
“We’re going to be married for our entire lives,” he’d said to her when they parted ways after the cruise. He kissed her forehead. “These few months apart are nothing in the scheme of things. I know it’s going to be hard. I know this isn’t normal. But we’re stronger together. And I’d rather have you and be apart than not get to call you my wife.”
Just before Grad Week at West Point, Dani had jotted down the dates like a mathematician on a scrap piece of paper. Two weeks on the cruise. Then Hannah would spend a month at Sapper School, while Tim went to Ranger School. Three months at Officer Basic Courses in different states—Hannah to become an engineer, Tim to join the infantry. After that, they’d take turns at the National Training Center with their units. Then back-to-back deployments, twelve months if they were lucky, fifteen months if they were like everyone else. Staring at the list, Hannah had felt the onset of vertigo.
“Hannah,” Dani had said. “Do you realize that you guys will have, like, five weekends together . . . in the next two years? No.” She’d tapped on the paper quickly, as though arriving at the correct answer to some equation. “Four. Four weekends!”
Hannah knew. Tim knew, too. But as if ignoring the calendar would make the days pass more swiftly, they’d never spoken of it. So far, any time Hannah had ever taken a step of faith, God had provided her the strength to get through it. Fingering the cross necklace she wore, Hannah said a prayer and shook off all the uncertainty she’d felt moments ago, when Moretti adjusted her nose.