I should feel bad that this is where my thoughts are going, but I don’t. Not after the hell my mother put me through.
“A plane, Sir?” I know what he’s saying, but in this moment, my mind isn’t here.
“Yes, we gotta get you out for the funeral. It says in the message—I mean, you can read it yourself—but the funeral is in three days. We will have to get you on a chopper and to the Green Zone in the morning, and our operations men have set up a flight for you out of the country tomorrow evening. You’ll be home by Friday,” he says, handing me another piece of paper. I glance at it and see my itinerary. He stops for a moment, and for the first time during this meeting, he has a genuine look of pity on his face. “I’m sorry for your loss, Sergeant Clay.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I mumble, my eyes drifting to his marble-topped desk as I mentally make plans to call Katie. I have to call her. I have to see her.
“Clay?” Captain Kendricks’s deep voice catches my attention, and I look up. He wants to say something else but stops himself and simply nods.
“Do you know when the chopper will be here, Sir?” I ask to fill the awkward silence that’s taken up the room.
“0600 the bird will be here, so get your stuff together tonight and be prepared at 0530.”
Nodding, I stand, the Red Cross message clenched in my hand. Without a word, I walk to the door before realizing how rude I must’ve come off. I spin back around.
“Sorry, Sir. I’ll be at the helipad at 0530.”
He nods, accepting my explanation. “I’m sorry again, Sergeant Clay.”
The walk back to the tent is almost like a dream. My senses have dulled and my mind struggles to understand. I wait for the urge to cry or feel an overwhelming sense of loss, but it never comes. I’m only numb.
The line rings several times and I wonder what they’re going to tell me, if anything. My desire to call Katie is growing by the second, but I have to find out what happened to my mom first. As foul as that woman could be, she was still my mother, and I hope at the very least she died peacefully, though at her age I know that’s impossible.
The line clicks and a woman’s voice comes through.
“Red Cross Emergency Communications Services. This is Sharon. How can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am, my name is Sergeant Devin Clay. I’m a U.S. Army soldier deployed to Iraq, and I just received a Red Cross message about my mother’s death.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, Sergeant Clay, and I must say, thank you so much for the sacrifices you and your family are making.” Her words are saccharine sweet, but I have a feeling she does these sorts of calls entirely too often and her words are merely a script that runs through her head. I hear her typing away on the keyboard.
“Thank you very much, ma’am. Do you have any information for me?” I ask as she continues to type.
“Just … one … second … yep, here we go. Josephine Clay, myocardial infarction, died April 18, 2006. The funeral is on April 23rd.” She types again before continuing, “Now, Sergeant Clay, did your Command give you all of the funeral and travel information?”
“Yes, ma’am. Is there anything else I should know?”
“That should be it. Please give us a call if you have any problems with your travel arrangements. We are here to serve you, and again, if you don’t have any further questions, thank you so much for what you’re doing over there.” Her words barely register because my mind is on one thing and one thing only.
It’s been ten long years, and I’m ready to get my girl.
“No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, ma’am.” I quickly hang up the phone and snatch it back up again, dialing Katie’s number as fast as I can. With each ring, my heart pulses rapidly through my veins, a warm buzz sitting just under my skin. The excitement over seeing her is almost too much to comprehend, the thought of my mother no longer being on this earth, at least for the moment, being pushed beneath the surface.
“Devin?” Katie’s voice crackles over the line and I can’t help but smile. And then, without warning, an image of my mother and father holding each of my hands and swinging me in the air flashes in my head, bringing reality crashing down on me. Katie says my name again, but before I can answer, another memory comes barreling in. This time we’re walking through Cedar Point, looking for rides suitable for an eight-year-old. I’ve got a snowcone in one hand and a stuffed bear in the other.
My legs go weak and I yank out a chair before dropping onto it.
“Devin? Are you there?”
My chest tightens and nose burns, and when I open my mouth to talk, my voice is choked with tears. “Katie.”
“Carry On”—fun
“WYATT—”
“Come on, Katie,” he says, cutting me off, “I’ve been your best friend for years. And I was your fiancé, for cryin’ out loud!” Doesn’t he realize that this isn’t going to change anything?
Looking at my watch, I notice the time. “Wyatt,” I say, sighing, “can we talk about this later? I’m going to be late for my appointment.” Pushing the driver’s side door open, I step out of my car, shut the door behind me and click the lock before heading toward Dr. Perry’s office.
“Just say yes,” he says before giving a muffled apology for raising his voice. “Hell, you’ve already said yes, you just haven’t followed through yet. It’s dinner. One dinner. Give this to me, please.”
“Fine,” I relent, mostly because I’m getting tired of hearing him beg, and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to prove to him—once and for all—that we are over.
“Really?” I almost laugh at the shock in his voice. “Okay then. How about Friday night?”
“Friday night is fine.” Pulling on the door to the building, a gust of wind catches it and I grunt, trying to get it open.
“What time should I pick you up?”
Blowing a chunk of hair out of my face, I shrug out of my jacket and drape it over my arm. “You aren’t picking me up. This isn’t a date. I’ll meet you at Bobby’s at six.”
“Bobby’s?”
“Yes, Bobby’s.” I knew he wouldn’t like that. Bobby’s is a bustling café that is usually packed full of college students. It’s not a good place at all for someone who wants to have a nice, intimate dinner—which is exactly what Wyatt wants. “Now I have to go. I’ll see you then.” I hang up before he finishes saying goodbye.
Walking up to the building, I pull open the door and step into Dr. Perry’s waiting room.
“Good morning, Katie.”
“Morning.” I smile, signing in at the front desk before taking a seat against the wall.
“You can actually head on back. Dr. Perry is ready for you.”
“Thank you.” I drop the magazine I had just picked up and weave my way to Dr. Perry’s office. She’s already sitting in her plush chair, waiting for me with a giant smile on her face.
“Long time, no see, Miss Devora.”
“Yes, well, it’s been a long week,” I say, hanging my jacket on her coat rack before walking over to that beautiful floral-print couch that I love so damn much. Not.
“Tell me about it.”
I can’t stifle the laugh as I drop onto the worn cushion. “How did I know you were going to say that?” Dr. Perry laughs too, and without a second thought, I tell her absolutely everything that’s happened. We talk about Devin, and how I not only forgave him but let him back into my heart. We talk about Bailey and Wyatt and Mama, and when I’m finally done telling her everything about everything, she leans back in her chair and simply stares at me with a huge grin plastered to her face.
“What? What’s that look for?”
“I’m speechless.” She laughs again. “I don’t really even know where to go with all that.”