Home Front(35)

They were close enough to kiss; all it would have taken was the slightest movement by either one of them, but neither leaned toward the other.

“Don’t get hurt over there, Jo,” he said, his gaze steady.

She heard a caring in the words she’d thought was gone, and it filled her with a sweet and tender hope. Maybe they could fix it, maybe one perfect moment could put them back on track. She needed him so much right now she couldn’t stand it; she needed to be able to take his love with her.

Slowly, she put a hand around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him, but even as her heartbeat sped up and passion flared inside her, she felt him holding back. It was like kissing a stranger.

She drew back, humiliated. “Take care of my babies,” she whispered.

But he was drinking again, staring out at the rolling waves.

“It’s too bad you think you have to say that,” he said.

She got up and returned to the house, alone.





Nine



Michael woke up alone. At some point, long before dawn, he’d heard Jolene awaken and climb out of bed. Without turning on the lights, she had dressed in her camo fatigues—ACUs—grabbed her duffle bag, and left the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her. He had pretended to be asleep. Later, he’d heard a horn honk outside; Tami had come to pick Jolene up.

Afterward, Michael lay alone. He thought he’d never fall asleep again, but somehow he had, and he’d been wakened hours later by the alarm bleating beside his bed.

Now, it was The Day. He woke the girls up and then took a long, scaldingly hot shower.

He had no idea what to wear for a deployment ceremony, so he went for the ever-popular charcoal slacks and matching V-neck cashmere sweater, but when he looked in the mirror, he saw a stranger. His dark eyes had a haunted look, and the shadows beneath attested to the fact that he hadn’t slept well in weeks.

“Dad?” Betsy walked into the room, wearing white knee-length leggings, a long pink sweater cinched tight at the waist by a wide silver belt, and Ugg boots. Her long blond hair hung in frizzy ringlets to the middle of her back.

She looked like she was trying out for some Disney kid show where people burst into song at the drop of a hat.

“Is that what you think you’re wearing?” he asked.

“You can’t tell me what to wear.”

“Why not? I’m your father.”

Betsy rolled her eyes. “I came to tell you that Lulu isn’t coming with us.”

“What do you mean? She’s four years old.”

“I know her age, Dad. I just said she won’t come. And she’s wearing the headband.”

Michael had no idea what difference a headband could make. “Fine.” He sighed—he was exhausted already and it was barely past eleven. “Come on,” he said to Betsy and headed down the hallway.

Lulu’s room appeared to have been ransacked. There were toys and clothes everywhere; all of the bedding had been pulled off the bed and lay heaped on the floor.

She sat in the corner, wearing her ragged gray kitten Halloween costume, with her skinny legs drawn up to her chest. Her eyes were red and watery from crying and her cheeks were blotchy.

He looked at his watch. They were late. “Get up, Lulu. We don’t have time for this. We have to say good-bye to your mom.”

When he reached down for her, she screamed, “You can’t see me!”

Michael frowned.

Betsy grabbed his wrist. “Lulu’s invisible when she has the headband on.”

“Oh, for God’s—”

“Lulu,” Betsy said in a singsong voice. “Where are you? We need to go.”

Lulu didn’t answer.

Michael felt acutely out of his depth already and Jolene hadn’t even left yet.

“I know how afraid Lulu must be to say good-bye, but Mommy needs our kisses to keep her safe,” Betsy said.

Lulu burst into tears. Taking off the headband, she stood up. “I don’t want her to go. Will she be back for dinner?”

Betsy took her sister’s hand. “No.”

“My birthday?” Lulu said hopefully, clutching the ratty cat-eared headband. It was at least the fiftieth time she’d asked this question.

“Come on,” Michael said tiredly. “We need to change your clothes, Lulu.”

“No!” she screamed, scrambling away from him. “I want my kitty costume!”

“You should give in, Dad. Trust me,” Betsy said.

“Fine,” Michael said, sighing. He picked Lulu up, and the three of them went out to the car.

They drove away in a heavy, awkward silence.

When they picked up his mother, she tried to fill the silence with chatter, but her buoyant pretense at optimism soon faded. Michael turned on the radio, let Clint Black be their voice.

At the guard tower, he eased to a stop and handed his and his mother’s IDs over to a very serious-looking young man in uniform.

“Go ahead, sir,” the guard said finally, handing him back the two licenses.

The post was a hive of activity. Cars and trucks and uniformed soldiers were everywhere. Betsy read the instructions and guided them to a parking area, where they found a sign about the deployment ceremony to be held in the hangar.

The four of them were silent as they walked out to the hangar, which was a huge, open-sided building full of helicopters and cargo jets and smaller airplanes. One section had been cleared of aircraft, and rows of metal chairs had been placed in their space. Along the back wall, they’d set up a wooden dais. There was a giant TV screen to its left. A large banner hung from the rafters. It read: BE SAFE RAPTORS.