Page 68 of Just Like This
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The soundof the phoneringing woke me from a fitful sleep. My last email to Garrett had been sent nearly a week ago, and tonight was one of the worst nights with my father. I was so optimistic that he would make it beyond the predicted six months, and now it seemed like he wouldn’t even make it that far. He was fighting an infection, and with his weakened immune system, it was difficult.
“Prepare yourselves,” the nurse had told Valerie and me in hushed tones. And we did, separately. I cried alone in my room until I was exhausted only to fall into dreams of funerals, first my father’s and then Garrett’s.
My hand shot out, fumbling along the bedside table until my fingers closed around my phone.
“Hello?” I answered, my voice thick with sleep.
“Cami?”
I sat upright, a hand clasped over my mouth to suppress the immediate cry that threatened to escape my lips. “Oh, my god! Garrett?”
“It’s me, baby.”
I couldn’t stop myself; tears flowed endlessly as I succumbed to body-shaking sobs.
“Don’t cry, Cami. Please, baby. Don’t cry because I’m not there to dry your tears or take you in my arms.”
His words calmed me; they soothed the ache in my chest that only seemed to worsen as the days passed.
“It’s been three weeks,” I moaned.
“I know, I’m sorry. I tried to warn you.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired.”
My shoulders sagged with relief. “When did you get back to base?”
“About an hour ago. My CO owed me some time with the phone,” he lightly joked. “How’s your dad?”
“Tonight was the worst night. His nurse told us to start making preparations.”
Garrett swore under his breath and was silent for a moment. “I want to be there, Cami. So much.”
“Just hearing your voice makes everything better.”
“I can’t talk much longer, but I knew you’d be worried. I’m sure my inbox is bursting.”
I laughed softly. “No, it’s not. I knew that if you weren’t replying that meant you were out scouting.”
“You’re so strong, Cami. I’m a lucky man to have you.”
“For you, I can be strong. And for my dad and Valerie too, but I’m weak. I feel so helpless lately.”
Muffled voices sounded in the background, and Garrett sighed impatiently. “Okay, okay,” he told whoever was in the room with him. “I’m sorry, Cami, but I have to go.”
“Okay. Stay safe, Garrett.” I was disappointed that our conversation was ending so soon. Only a few precious minutes spent talking to him after weeks waiting for an email. But this was better than nothing. Hearing his voice gave me the strength I needed.
“Cami? You’re not weak or helpless. Just stay strong.”
And then the line disconnected.
Now that I was awake, I crawled out of my bed and padded down to my dad’s study. I knew that he hardly slept. Soft light trickled out from underneath the door, and I quietly opened it. His eyes were closed, and he looked uncomfortable. I shuffled over to his bed and sat down next to him, pulling my chair right up against his bed.
“Cami?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. A sigh of relief escaped my lips; he was still here. His eyes closed again, but I knew that tonight wasn’t the night.
