Page 44 of Bona Fide

“Not sure,” Marty answers. “I have a meeting with my general next week, and I’m going to request some time stateside.”

Mama claps her hands together. “That’d be great, I just miss your handsome face, and I want to squeeze you.”

“I hope it’s soon too. How are you feeling?”

“Really good, Reagan has been limiting me to certain things because she thinks I need to work on my strength and—”

“You do, Mama. Marty, she tried to walk three miles to the store yesterday in the snow.”

“Mama,” Marty chides. “Seriously?”

“I can walk to the store, I’m not a—”

“Build up your strength,” I cut in. “Or I’m going to call Doctor—”

Mama scoffs. “And she threatens me. You really do need to come home and calm your sister down. ”

“She’s right though,” Marty claims. “No more of that or I won’t ask for that leave.”

“Don’t stroke her out,” I tell him as Mama swats me with her hand. “Oh, she must be getting some of her strength back, she’s abusing me.”

“Your smart-ass deserves it,” my brother reprimands. “Someone has to do it.” Some rustling sounds on his side of the phone then he says, “Hey, I gotta go.”

“What?” Mama squeaks. “But you just called and—”

“I’m sorry, Mama, I’ll try to call you as soon as I can. I love the both of you so much. I’ll let you know how the meeting goes.”

“We love you too,” I answer for the both of us. Mama remains silent, chin tucked into her chest. She’s trying to hold herself together, to keep the sadness out of her tone. And as amazing as Marty’s calls are, they are just a reiteration of him still being gone.

“Mama,” Marty presses, knowing all too well that she’s upset. “Couldn’t hear you over Reagan’s big mouth, how much do you love me?”

“To the moon, baby,” she replies softly. “Come home safe.”

“Good. Reagan, promise me you’ll stay out of trouble.”

I can’t, I’m already in a load of it now.

“I do every time I talk to you,” I reply, not fully agreeing to it. “A promise is forever.”

“I like the reminder that you remember. I’ll talk to you all soon, love you.” And he hangs up because saying goodbye is just as hard for him as it is for us. He may be a hard-ass to everyone else outside of Mama and I, but he’s a softy at heart.

Mama unmutes our movie, leaning back on the couch as she stares mindlessly at the screen.

“Mama, if you don’t finish eating and put that grin back on your face, I’m gonna tell Marty not to call you anymore.”

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t pull them away from our movie. “Girl, I will whoop you.”

“Never have before.”

“Never too late to try,” she counters before a corner of her lips quirk.

We finish watching our movie, Mama finishes her plate and falls asleep during White Christmas. I remain seated next to her, enjoying the comfort of just being home and away from my business.

A few minutes after midnight, a text message comes through from Chase, immediately making me smile.

Chase: Merry Christmas, Sox.

Me: Merry Christmas, Yank.

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