Home Front(23)

Jolene stared at her daughter in the rearview mirror and felt a flutter of panic. She’s so fragile now …

“Are you going to just sit here all day?” Betsy said, crossing her arms.

How would Betsy get through seventh grade without her mom? What would happen when she started her period? Who would help her?

“Mom,” Betsy said sharply. “Are you brain-dead?”

Jolene drove into the stream of carpool traffic. She meant to start a conversation, say something, but her throat felt tight. When she pulled up to Mila’s house, her eyes stung with tears that didn’t fall.

Her in-laws’ house was a small L-shaped rambler built in the late seventies. It was small in comparison with the newer houses on either side of it, but the land was stunningly beautiful. Set on a deep, treed waterfront lot, it overlooked the placid waters of Lemolo Bay. Giant evergreens studded the landscaping; here and there, mounds of multicolored flowers grew around their rough brown trunks. Mila had turned this yard into a showpiece; every year it was on the local home and garden tour as a magnificent example of Northwest landscaping. The water out front was shallow and clear; in the summer, it warmed enough for swimming.

“Why are we here?” Betsy asked.

Jolene didn’t answer. Instead, she parked in front of the garage and let the girls out of the car. Before they even reached the front door, Mila came around the side of the house. She waved, smiling brightly, wearing a big flannel shirt over jeans tucked into bright orange rubber boots. A multicolored scarf covered her poofy black hair, à la Liz Taylor, and fist-sized silver hoops dangled from her ears. In her left hand was an enameled watering can. “Hey, girls,” she said.

“I’m sorry to call at the last minute like this,” Jolene said, bumping the car door shut with her hip.

Mila shook the dirt from her gardening gloves; it rained onto her boots. “Ah, honey, what’s family for?”

Lulu got out of the car and put on her kitten-ears headband, mewing loudly for attention.

“Not this again,” Betsy said, pushing past her sister.

Mila put down her watering can and glanced around. “Hmmm. Where is my granddaughter, Jolene? Did you leave her at home? In the car?”

Lulu giggled.

“What was that noise?” Jolene said.

Lulu whipped off the headband. “I’m here! Yia Yia.”

Mila picked Lulu up and held her.

For a moment, Jolene couldn’t say anything. The weight of her future pressed down on her chest so hard she couldn’t breathe.

Mila frowned. “Are you okay, Jo?”

“I’m fine. Michael and I need to talk, that’s all. I’ll pick the girls up tomorrow if that’s okay?”

Mila stepped closer. “You tell my son he needs to do better. Work is important, but so is family. I tried to teach his father this lesson, too, but…” She shrugged. “You will do a better job of it than I did.”

Jolene could only nod. It seemed a lifetime had passed since the missed track meet. She almost blurted out—I’m being deployed. She needed to tell Mila, needed to feel a mother’s embrace, but she couldn’t do it, couldn’t be comforted yet.

She mumbled good-bye and went back to her car. By the time she got home, she was sick to her stomach.

This deployment changed everything. He would see that. Whatever their problems were—had been—they would have to be set aside. She and Michael would have to come together now, for the children, for their family. And she would need him now, really need him. His love would save her over there, keep her warm at night, just as her children’s love would bring her home.

She thought about what Tami had said. Couples fight. They say things they don’t mean; they stomp off.

They come back.

She wanted to believe that, believe in that, even though she’d never seen it. She wanted to forgive Michael and find a way to scrub his declaration from her brain so they could go back to who they’d been.

All she had to do was give him a chance.

She could do it; she could be strong enough to let him know she still loved him. These were the things she told herself as she waited for him.

And waited.

Finally, at seven o’clock, he came into the kitchen and immediately poured himself a scotch.

“Hey,” Jolene said, rising from her seat on the hearth.

He turned. In the ambient light from above the stove, he looked more than tired. His hair was a mess. The skin beneath his eyes had a violet cast, as if he’d slept as badly as she had last night.

“Jo,” he said quietly; there was a gentleness in his voice that surprised and saddened her. It swept her back, in a breath, to who they used to be.

She ached for that—needed it, needed him. “I’m being deployed.”

Michael went so still it was as if he’d stopped breathing.

“You’re kidding, right?” he finally said.

“Of course I’m not kidding. Who kids about going to war?” Jolene’s voice cracked. For a split second, her strength wavered. She realized how desperate she was to have him take her in his arms and tell her they’d be okay through this. “I’m going to Fort Hood first for combat training, then it’s off to Iraq.”

“You’re in the Guard, for Chrissake. You’re not a real soldier.”