In a Book Club Far Away(20)

September 2011

Adelaide wished for time to stop. With her hand ensconced in Matt’s, protected and warmed from the chill that had started to invade their part of the country, she clutched on to the last minutes before her husband left for deployment.

“Babe?” Matt shook her hand. He was in full camouflage uniform, with a green duffel strapped to his back. His headgear, with its brim molded into a distinct downward curve, was tipped backward on his head, so she could see a tuft of his curly black hair—though he didn’t keep much of it on his head at any one time—peeking from his forehead. His dark eyes gleamed, his cheekbones were high in a grin, and he gestured to a couple approaching them. Jasper and Sophie.

The lead-up to deployment had been hectic; the coffee that she had planned with Sophie and Regina never came to fruition. In the last three weeks, there had been meetings, and lots of them, with family members, where they’d discussed contingencies should emergencies happen downrange—the deployed arena—or on the home front. Adelaide had been a key player, since the company commander didn’t have a spouse, and she had been more than happy to step up.

Now, seeing Sophie in front of her, her partner in crime through pre-deployment, she allowed herself to exhale.

Sophie leaned in for a hug. Adelaide squeezed her back with every bit of emotion she felt but couldn’t show and received an equally strong embrace. Adelaide had been feeling like she’d been failing for a while, but she’d still ensured her face, her home, and her demeanor were perfect, with no one the wiser, her mother’s good example pervasive in her thoughts.

“You good?” Sophie whispered.

“No? Yes? You?”

“Eh.”

“Seen Regina?”

“She texted. She’s running late. But she’ll be here. I mean, of course.” Sophie stepped back, a grin on her face.

That wry expression made Adelaide laugh out loud. How she’d come to rely on Sophie and that grin of hers. She had been the beacon of calm, Adelaide’s rock when she’d begun to grow unsteady.

In the phase of pre-deployment, there was no time to get upset or to cry. It was straightforward: The spouse was to be unflappable. They had to keep it together. It was just good luck that her pregnancy nausea had abated a little, and she’d found the trick that a couple of crackers in the morning made all the difference.

Adelaide hugged Jasper, Sophie embraced Matt, then the two men sidled up to each other, a smile on each of their faces.

“Platoon Sergeant.” Matt nodded to him.

“XO,” Jasper said.

There was a bromance between the two men. They’d bonded over their love of the gym and football. Their relationship had given Adelaide some solace that Matt would deploy with someone he could consider a friend.

Sophie shook her head. “These two.”

“Like peanut butter and jelly,” Adelaide said.

“I’m the jelly, because I’m sweet,” Jasper said. “Right, Soph?”

“Sure, if you say so.”

“So what does it mean if I’m peanut butter?” Matt asked.

“Hm… that you’re sticky?” Adelaide said.

“You’re stuck with me!” Jasper added. The two men fell into laughter.

Sophie barked out a laugh. “Wow. That was a dad joke if I ever heard one.”

“Speaking of, we’ve got about ten minutes before manifest, sir,” Jasper said. His eyes jumped to Adelaide and then to Sophie. “Let’s go find our girls?”

Sophie heaved a sigh. “Okay. Ad, I’ll see you?”

“Yeah, of course.” She feigned strength, though her voice cracked.

Three hours. They had been at this field for three hours, and it would all come down to these next ten minutes. In the distance, she could see the white buses that would take their soldiers to the airfield. And she hadn’t been the only one to notice. The crowd around them quieted, and one by one, uniformed men and woman separated from their groups and headed toward the green space in front of them, where the final formation would be.

Pressure filled Adelaide’s chest. She gripped her husband’s hand tighter. She kept her eyes on him as he surveyed the goings-on, because she wanted to memorize every groove on his face. True, there was video chat. Yes, she would “see” him, but it wouldn’t be like this.

Could she do this? Could she do this again? Nine months was a long time. Nine months felt unfathomable. How did her mama do this? How did Nana? How did they keep a straight face and wear their smiles and serve their meals and meet with people? In the media, in history, what was glorified were the military men and women who left, who fought wars, who put their lives on the line. Not often was it understood, was it shown, the mixed fear and pride of those who were left behind.

Finally, Matt looked down at her. He was a tough guy, always had been, always would be. Rough-and-tumble, rarely romantic. He’d choose outside activities over indoor ones any day of the week. He was also the first to laugh, and his booming personality filled their home.

Without him, the house would be empty.

“Hey, hey.” He set down his duffel and rested both hands on her shoulders. He smoothed them down.

“It’s just the worst possible time.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. They were whiny, accusatory, shaking from her desperate attempt to be the positive person her mother raised.