In a Book Club Far Away(74)

Then her eyes darted to the left of the formation as if directed by her sixth sense, and there he was. Fourth row from the front, second from the right.

Her Jasper.

She squeezed her daughter’s shoulders. “I see him, girls. I see him.”

And finally, at the commander’s command of “Fall out,” the people rushed out of the stands. Holding her girls’ hands, Sophie ran toward the love of her life.





CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Regina




Regina had been there all along and watched the people in the stands spill onto the field. From her vantage point, she had seen the empty space next to Sophie, too. Her friend was probably worried; her nurse’s mind had likely gone all the way to premature labor. But Regina had needed space; she wanted privacy. She wanted to see her husband’s face from far away, to assess it without seeing the judgment of others or being influenced by the rising excitement of the crowd.

And she’d found him, singular and still among the rushing parents and children, spouses, and significant others. He looked like she felt, a little lost and alone. This should’ve been a happy reunion. The commander had cited her pregnancy as the reason why Logan was coming home early, and Logan had vehemently dispelled the rumors that would surely spread now that the first of the unit was home. But she couldn’t shake this unsettling feeling brewing in her belly, like yeast fermenting.

Then, he spotted her in the stands. His eyes locked in on hers. His gaze was unreadable, but for the sake of the moment, she plastered a smile on her face. She was relieved that he was home, that he’d made it home, that he was safe no matter the circumstances of his return. Even if people believed ill of him, of them as a couple, those people would not see them struggling.

She finally walked up to him, careful in her wedge espadrilles. The field was a mess of rocks and uneven ground. She squinted, facing the sun, and when she got close enough, saw tears in his eyes. He looked down at her belly; he touched it with a palm.

“Hi, Logan.”

“Oh my God, hi.” His voice choked out a reply that rattled Regina’s soul. He kissed her on the lips, and on the cheek, then on the neck, as if breathing her in, and he got down on one knee, a hand on her eight-months-pregnant belly. “I made it, baby.”

Regina’s tears came hard and fast, and they were from relief. She’d survived the pregnancy without him; she’d made it through their first deployment as a couple. She’d endured those first torturous and lonely weeks, and come out almost nine months later, thriving.

A camera started to circle them—local press. The internet was hungry for reunion stories. She knew because she hadn’t been able to get enough of watching the taped encounters on Facebook while wishing for her own. But she didn’t want anyone to see her face, to detect the mixed emotions in her heart.

She pressed her hand against the top of his shoulder, a sign for him, and he stood. “I need to grab my duffel. They’ve unloaded them against the side of the building,” he said.

“Let’s go,” she said, and allowed him to take her hand. It was rough, just as she remembered, a sign of his hard work. He hated lotion, didn’t think that skin care was something infantrymen practiced, but at times she’d rub lotion into his hands anyway. Touch kept them together. They could calm each other with it. Their worst fights were neutralized by a kiss.

This time, holding hands would have to do, because they said nothing as they traversed the busy field to the quiet side of the building, where a group of soldiers watched over neatly arranged gear. Logan spotted his name painted on one green duffel among the others and slung it over his shoulder.

She led him to Baby.

But once he stuffed his bag into the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat, the mood plummeted.

Regina wanted to speak to him; she wanted to hear his testimony before she went any further. So she silently drove the car to an empty parking lot a few buildings down, where there were fewer vehicles around. Home would’ve provided zero privacy. As soon as neighbors knew Logan was home, the doorbell would ring and guests would arrive, and a barbecue would begin, and all of her questions would’ve had to wait.

She turned in her seat as soon as she stopped the car. Logan’s head was already in his hands, and he fully understood that this conversation was going to happen right there and then.

“I haven’t been able to sleep, or think, Logan.”

“Me, either. The stares, the judgment. I see it everywhere.” He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “You don’t understand what I’ve been through.”

“I don’t understand? I think I do.” She made nail marks with her thumb on the foam of the steering wheel, because, of course, he was only thinking of himself. “I haven’t been able to talk to my own friends about it, either. Because surely they know, too, right? But that’s not remotely as important as what’s happening between us. Or what’s going to happen, with you.”

“I don’t know what’s next, babe. Everything is on hold right now. I’m just… supposed to wait.”

“For?”

He shrugged.

“And this other”—she wanted to say woman but couldn’t—“person.”

“She’s back, too.”

Regina straightened in her seat. “She is?” She had been out there in the crowd, in the same formation?