Page 37 of Come Back to Me

I want to shut my eyes tight and pray to a God I’m not even sure I believe in. I skip closing my eyes; I don’t want to miss anything on the screen. But I do pray.Please, God. Please, don’t let Leo’s number be called.

And then, in a matter of seconds, life is never the same again.

Hot blood pounds in my ears after I hear the number called. Leo’s number. My legs quake beneath me. The weight of an arm comes around my shoulders. Sobs tear out of me, and I collapse onto the thick mustard-colored carpet. Blackness tunnels at my vision.

Until I see and hear nothing at all.

Dear Leo,

It would seem the universe is trying to keep us apart. But what did we ever do to it? I know you believe in God, and I respect you for it. But I prayed and asked for your number not to be called. I don’t expect to do much praying while you’re over there fighting for a war no one believes in anymore.

It’s admirable what you did. Telling your mama to hold onto her money in case she needs it to pay Marco’s way if his number gets called after he turns eighteen. Do I think you’rebatshit crazy for practically volunteering? Yes. But I love you all the same. Maybe even more so. Is that even possible?

I only hope this letter reaches you before you leave. If anything, so you know, I plan on sanding the porch swing and painting it. When you return home, it will be waiting for you. And if it’s not clear, I will be waiting for you.

Your compass hangs around my neck each day. I never take it off. I swear I won’t until you’re home safe with me. I love you, Leonardo Moretti.

Yours always and forever, Giana

It’s almost my favorite time in Maple Ridge. Summer. Warm air, sun-kissed skin, fields of flowers. And the creek is bearable to swim in.

It’s been six months since Leo went to Vietnam, fighting the war nearly every American is sick of hearing about. But that doesn’t lessen the reality that our men are still over there. It’s a reality I live with every day.

Despite my family trying to convince me to stay with them while Leo is away, being at the cabin is the only place I feel close to him. During the time we spent working on the cabin, we learned so much about one another. I learned so much about myself.

It’s Saturday, and Pete and Nettie have invited themselves over to the cabin for the afternoon. God bless them, they try to be a distraction. Sometimes it helps. But most of the time, it only makes me remember the fun the four of us shared last summer.

I sit on the porch swing, my finger grazing the painted wood. After I finished sanding and painting it, I took a picture with Pete’s camera, and he’s going to give me the photo after he gets the film developed. I plan on slipping it in with the next letter I send to Leo.

The sound of Pete’s truck tearing up the gravel drive draws my attention. Nettie hops out of the passenger side before the dust has even settled. I stand and watch as she rushes up the porch steps. She tackles me with a hug and I cling to her for just a moment longer than usual.

“How ya doing, Gigi?”

There’s no point in lying to her. We’re best friends. She probably knows better than I do about how I’m doing.

“Terrible. Like my heart is sitting outside my body.” It’s the best description I can come up with, and it seems to satisfy her enough.

She tries to put on a brave face for me.

Pete shuffles up the steps. He can hardly look at me. Like he’s guilty that his number hasn’t been called yet.

I don’t think about the unfairness of that. At least not very often. It’s not like if I could choose that I’d want my best friend’s husband to be sent off to war instead of my boyfriend. If I had it my way, I’d choose for neither of them to go. Hell, I’d choose for the war to be over already so everyone could come home.

“We brought you something.” Pete holds up a box, and I follow him inside the cabin. “Nettie baked a cake. And I made you some new poker sticks to roast s’mores.”

My eyebrows pinch together, and I tilt my head as Nettie helps Pete unload the box.

“What for? It’s not my birthday.”

Pete and Nettie share a look before Nettie bites her lip andhas a hard time making eye contact with me. Realization sets in, and my limbs feel heavy.

“Tomorrow is Leo’s birthday.” The compass necklace hangs from my neck, feeling as if it weighs fifty pounds. I cup the metal in my hand and close my fist around it.

“We’re also celebrating something else. I’m pregnant,” Nettie announces, chewing on her thumbnail.

Now it’s my turn to tackle her. We needed this good news.Ineeded this good news. And a baby is always good news.

Dear Leo,

---