Page 10 of Nomad
The President of North Carolina’s chapter ended the call.
I tossed the phone on the bed, fell backward, and closed my eyes, tired from the events of today and from what was to come. I hadn’t been back to North Carolina in five years. Five long years. That was the last time I’d seen or talked to Jade. The day I told her goodbye for the last time.
I rolled over and pulled the stained, crumpled envelope from the drawer of my nightstand, squeezing it tightly in my hand. I had kept Aaron’s letter. Except for a few pictures of us together at various outposts, it was the only thing I had left of him.
From time to time, I took the letter out to remind myself of what he’d asked me to do whenever I needed a reminder of why I left. I hadn’t read it since the day after I came back to the States, but tonight, I needed reassurance, especially since I’d be going back to North Carolina. I needed the assurance I had made the right decision when I left all those years ago, no matter if my heart told me I needed to stay. Aaron asked for my help in taking care of them, not for me to fall in love with his wife and raise his kid as my own.
“I need you to remind me of my duty to you, Aaron.” Leaning against my headboard, I opened the old envelope and took the folded piece of paper from inside, opening it up. “It’s going to be hard to keep my promise to you if I see her again.”
As I read the last words of my dearest friend, my brother, I steeled myself against the feelings I had for his wife before I passed out and prepared to go to the last place I thought I’d ever return.
Chapter Two
JADE
I detested this time of the year. Despite how far I’d come since Aaron’s death, the day my husband died always brought back so many heartbreaking memories. Memories of the many lonely nights I’d curled up on his side of the bed with one of his shirts stuffed against my nose so I could smell him. How he’d held me in his arms the last time while we’d lain in our bed and laughed until we cried as we talked about mundane things. However, I didn’t have the time to dwell on the heartache of his loss for myself because I needed to be there for our son, Junior.
While I loathed the day, it was when Junior felt closest to his father. He pulled out all the photographs of Aaron I hadn’t packed away, including the ones where he was holding Junior as an infant. There were pictures with Aaron and the men he served with, and the photographs from the day we buried him. Now that he was older, Junior had a firm grasp on the sacrifice his father had made for this country. His father’s death hadn’t gotten any easier, even though he’d been so young when Aaron died. He missed his father terribly, but he was proud when others recognized Aaron’s sacrifice. That was why Junior was so excited about today. It was another celebration acknowledging the amazing sacrifice his father had made.
While I was also proud of my husband’s service, this day reminded me of how much we’d lost that grim day. Everyone honoring Aaron filled me with gratitude. He’d earned every accolade anyone wanted to give him, but it made me dwell on the hole in my heart his absence left. The sense of loss never goes away; well, at least it hadn’t for me.
Aaron was my first love. My first everything. He was a wonderful man, and not only my husband but my best friend. It nearly broke me when he passed away. I was so angry at everyone, from God to his friends, and especially him. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t put me and his only child first. My mother couldn’t understand why I was angry at him for dying when he couldn’t control it according to her. But so many times before his death, I’d begged Aaron to get out of the military because he began deploying more often, and he stayed gone longer with each deployment. I was afraid he wouldn’t make it back home.
It became a point of contention in our marriage for a while. Then my greatest fear became my reality. I’d never forget the death notification or having to tell my son his father wouldn’t be coming home. It was like the walls had closed in all around me. Our entire world changed that day.
Then, one day, a miracle happened. The man who changed both me and my son came into our lives. William McGhee, or Sandman, as Aaron called him. With his help, day by day, Aaron’s loss became a little easier. I didn’t wake up crying as much. I stopped walking around the house like a zombie.
For a while, my relationship with my son suffered because I’d been so wrapped up in grief. With William in our lives, the heartache of losing my husband didn’t disappear. I didn’t think it would ever go away completely, but it lessened. With William’s unwavering comfort and support, I made peace with my husband’s decision not to retire, then I made peace with his death.
“I’m so ready for this day to be over.”
I sifted through the pile of mail sitting at the dining room table, knowing I wouldn’t escape the memories today, no matter how much I wanted to. The cards from other Gold Star families, and Aaron’s military friends letting me know I was in their thoughts around this time of the year always started arriving a couple of weeks before today. I was always thankful for the thoughts and prayers, but sometimes it was all too much. Not only would I sort through cards, but today the local motorcycle club, Demons United, were doing an honor ride for Aaron.
I was familiar with Demons United because of William. He was never without the leather vest with their name and the three-winged skulls emblazoned on the back. Although around Charlotte there were whispers about criminal activity surrounding the club, I ignored the whispers. The mayor advised me of the good they did for the community when she organized the charity ride. A lot of the men were vets themselves and wanted to honor Aaron, according to the mayor. So, in honor of Aaron, they wanted to raise money for my veterans organization.
The pain slammed into my chest at the thought of William. I hadn’t seen or heard from him in a few years. The last time was at Aaron’s grave when he said goodbye. It hurt he hadn’t kept in touch like he said he would. After he left, I finally admitted to myself I’d fallen in love with him. At first, I’d denied it to myself, to my mother when she confronted me about our relationship, and my closest friend, Della, when she helped me get past the bout of depression I’d sunk into after he left.
In the beginning, my grief wouldn’t let me admit my feelings. Nobody compared to Aaron, and, in my mind, neither did William. Sure, he was always there for me and Junior, providing us both with comfort and support, but he could never replace Aaron. However, my family had known my heart before me. He was my husband’s friend, I kept telling myself. When I finally acknowledged everything, it had felt like I’d betrayed my husband.
William wiggled his way into our lives, and in the end, I’d understood I’d loved Aaron when he was here, and my love for William didn’t diminish that. Aaron was no longer alive, and I needed to move on and be happy with William. But now, it might be too late. Had he moved on with his life, met an amazing, beautiful woman, and settled down with his own children?
“That has to be why he’s avoiding me.”
Bitterness filled me at the thought of William moving on without me and Junior. While he hadn’t contacted me for whatever reason, I missed him every day. His absence hurt, and after all these years, he still had my heart.
“He’s got a family, now.”
I spotted the familiar light blue envelope. Junior’s birthday cards from William came like clockwork. Despite William’s new life, he never missed Junior’s birthday or the day Aaron died. Every year, my son received a birthday card and someone placed fresh flowers on Aaron’s grave. I looked over his poorly written words on the outside hoping at least this time it had a return address on it, but no luck.
“He doesn’t want me to know where he is, but why?”
When my husband died, my world shattered. William held me when I cried and listened when I vented about Aaron’s decision to stay in the military. William accepted my anger and blame for my husband’s death when he had nothing to do with it. With his help, I slowly put back together the pieces of our world, and he fit right in with it. I missed him so much.
“Ma!” Junior scrambled down the stairs. “Ma! Is it time?”
“No running in the house, Junior. How many times do I have to tell you?” I blew out a breath, calming my emotions, and held up the birthday card. “Yeah, it’s almost time.”
He snatched the card from my hand, ripping it open.
