Home Front(122)

“I thought you could will grief away. That’s what I did with my parents. At least that’s what I thought I did. The truth is, I knew loss. I didn’t know grief. Now, I do.” She tilted her chin to look up at him. “I let you down.”

He kissed her forehead slowly, lovingly. “And I let you down.”

“We need to talk more this time,” Jolene said. “Really talk.”

He nodded. “I want to know about Iraq. Can you do that?”

Her instinct was to say no, you don’t want to know and protect him. “I’ll tell you what I can do. You can read my journal,” she said. “And I need to talk to that doctor of yours, too. I need help with this, I think.”

“You’ll make it through, Jo. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“What about Betsy? How will I convince her to forgive me?”

He smiled. “You flew helicopters in combat. You can handle one angry twelve-year-old girl.”

“I’ll take combat anytime.”

They were laughing when someone knocked on their door. Pounded, actually.

Michael got out of bed, snagged his pants and stepped into them. He was buttoning the fly as he opened the door. “Ma,” he said, grinning.

“It’s Betsy,” Mila said. She was holding Lulu, whose head rested on her shoulder. “She’s gone. We can’t find her anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” Michael said, picking a tee shirt up from the floor, pulling it over his head. “I’m sure she’s in the backyard or somewhere close.”

“Gone?” Jolene sat up, clutching the sheet to her bare breasts. She didn’t know how Michael could sound so calm.

Mila glanced sympathetically at Jolene. “After the … incident at Tami’s, there was a lot of talk. People are worried about you, Jo. Anyway, I was soothing Lulu, who kept wanting to know why you’d thrown yourself to the ground, and when I got her settled, I looked for Betsy. It took a long time to work the room. The point is, she and Seth are gone. We’ve looked everywhere. Carl is frantic.”

“I’ll check the house,” Michael said.

He rushed out of the room. Jolene got out of bed and went to her dresser. Finding jeans and a white sweater, she dressed as quickly as she could. Michael returned with her prosthesis, and they went down the stairs. Hold-limp-step. Hold-limp-step. Never had the unwieldiness of her fake leg bothered her more.

Carl was waiting for them in the family room, looking harried. Mila was beside him, holding Lulu in her arms.

“They ran away,” Carl said to Jo. “I heard them talking, and I thought, ‘Good, they’re friends again,’ and I went for another beer. I don’t know how long it was before I went looking for him again. It wasn’t until people started to leave that we noticed. I should have noticed.”

“The Harrisons’ tree,” Michael said. “Remember the last time Betsy ran away? Seth found her at the tree by the Harrisons’ dock.”

Jolene stared at her husband. “The last time she ran away?”

Michael barely responded. Carl nodded and the two men set off. Jolene followed them as far as the porch.

Out there, it was cold and black. No stars shone through. She stood at the railing, trying to will herself to see through the darkness. Mila came up beside her, carrying Lulu. “We’ll find her, Jolene,” she said. “Teenagers do this sort of thing.”

This sort of thing; running away in the dark, where God only knew what waited. If Jolene had been a better mother in the past weeks, they wouldn’t be here, staring out at the cold night, praying. She heard Lulu’s small sob, and she turned.

“She ranned away again,” Lulu wailed.

Opening her arms, Jolene whispered, “Come to me, baby. Let Mommy hold you.”

Lulu’s teary eyes widened. “Really, Mommy?”

Jolene’s voice cracked. “Really.”

Lulu hurled herself forward so hard Mila stumbled sideways. Jolene caught Lulu in her arms and held on tightly, breathing in the familiar little-girl smell of Johnson’s Baby Shampoo and Ivory soap.

She felt Lulu’s sobs, and all she could do to help was hold on tightly, to tell Lulu over and over again that she was safe in Mommy’s arms. Finally, Lulu drew back. Her dark eyes were swimming in tears, and her cheeks were glassy-looking with moisture. “You scared us, Mommy.”

Jolene smoothed the damp hair from Lulu’s face. “I know, Kitten. The war made your mommy a little crazy. I’m going to get better, though.”

“You promise?”

The trust in Lulu’s eyes was a balm to Jolene’s battered spirit. She wanted to say I promise. That was what she would have done in the old days; deflect and pretend. But promises were fragile things, and the future even more so. “I promise I’m going to do everything I can to be the mommy I used to be. But I might need your help. Sometimes if I’m … you know, crazy, you’ll have to just raise your hands and shrug your shoulders and go, ‘That’s my mom.’ Do you think you could do that?”

Lulu raised her small pink palms and shrugged and said, “That’s my mom.”

“Perfect,” Jolene said, her smile unsteady.

Then Carl and Michael emerged from the darkness across the street and appeared in the driveway, walking slowly toward them. Betsy and Seth weren’t with them.