In the Stillness(18)

Eric kisses just behind my ear as he slides into bed next to me. “I love you, Natalie. We’ll figure this out, okay?”

I nod and drift to sleep, dreaming about the time a girl at some party at UMass challenged me about the yellow ribbon on my jacket. I used the pin from that ribbon to cut for the first time.





Chapter 9





While I’m at the park with the twins the next day, Tosha calls.

“Hello?”

“And how are you feeling this morning, Lightweight?” she says with a tick too much cheer.

“Well,” I clear my throat, which is slightly scratchy from my single cigarette last night, “I’m hiding behind huge sunglasses at the playground like a bitch, downing a venti, and praying the boys don’t drag me into one of their superhero games.”

“You’re disastrous,” she says mid-laugh.

“Well, I haven’t gone out in months and the first time I do I swallow three margaritas in, what, an hour?”

Tosha whispers, as if others can hear, “Was he pissed?”

“I don’t really know. He seemed it at first, then he carried me to bed and told me he loved me.”

“Is he a f*cking saint?” Her annoyance is laughable.

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” I scoff. “And, coffee was ready for me this morning. I gotta go, the boys are about to jump from the fire pole.”

“Fine, but call me later.”

I end the call, gather the boys, and head for a drive before naptime.

As we wind down South East St., I find myself looking for a certain house. I drive this street all the time, but it’s only every few times that I look. Ryker’s dad was so nice to me during the time Ryker and I were together, and even when we weren’t. It’s not that he stopped being nice to me; it’s that I stopped letting him. I haven’t spoken to him since I was pregnant with the boys. We ran into each other at the grocery store. He congratulated me, but there was a look in his eyes I’ll never forget. It was bittersweet. I cried for the rest of that day.

Rounding the corner, I spot Bill mowing his lawn. My pulse races as we drive by, but I don’t slow down. I remember walking nervously up their front walk when Ryker first got home. I wanted to run, but it was all I could do to remain upright.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror and I see the boys are passed out. Great. It’s impossible to move them from the car to their bed without them fully waking up, so it looks like I’ll be driving around for a while. I turn right when I get to the end of the street and head for a drive down 116. I like to drive past Mount Holyoke’s stunning campus as often as possible. I call Tosh to see if she has some free time to pop out of her office and say “hi.”

“Of course,” she says, “just text me when you’re outside my building.”

As soon as I hang up, the phone rings again. It’s Eric.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask as I drive past Atkin’s Market, winding my way down 116.

He sounds energized. “Hi Babe, just wanted to know if you wanted to swing over for lunch today with the boys? We can eat down by the pond or something?”

“You’re in a good mood.”

“Well, we got a lot accomplished today. I feel like I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Must be nice.

“I’m actually driving over to see Tosh at her office. The boys are sound asleep in the back so it’s a-driving I go.” I try not to sound too sarcastic, but this is what my afternoons have become. I don’t like it.

“Okay,” he huffs, “well I’ll be home early tonight. We’ll grill for dinner, and when the boys go to bed, you and I can have some quality time together. It’s been a tough few months for both of us.”

Mmmhmm.

“Sounds good. See ya later. Love you.” I remember to say love you in the nick of time. He gets all bent out of shape if we hang up without saying it.

“I love you.”

Sometimes I wish I could chuck my cell phone out the window so Eric can’t interrupt my thoughts any time he pleases. Not that he calls me all that much—he actually doesn’t call that often—but when he does, it grates on my nerves. He’s in my face plenty, why can’t we just leave well enough alone when we’re apart?

*





I didn’t have to beg my parents for a cell phone on Christmas of 2001; they thought it was suddenly a necessary item. Apparently, they’d want to know immediately if I was in the middle of some terrorist activity. The cell phone was the answer to all of their problems.

Just after Christmas, I gave Ryker’s dad, Bill, my new cell number, so he could give it to Ryker when he called. His unit was deployed just before Christmas, and winter break felt like purgatory, waiting for his call with nothing to distract me.

Finally, the first week in January, the phone rang with an “unavailable number.” I tried not to get my hopes up that it was him.

My voice was shakier than I would have liked. “Hello?”

“Damn, it’s good to hear your voice,” Ryker purred into the phone. I could hear his smile.

I threw my hand over my mouth to silence the tears. “Hey you,” I squeaked out.

Hearing his voice made it real. All at once. Ryker Manning—my boyfriend, Amherst College political science major, and Bill and Julia’s son—was at war.