Page 48 of The Homecoming

“Yeah, he came home in August.”And he’s suffering.

“Good, at least one of us could be there,” he said before a boom rang out in the background.

“What was that?”

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“That didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Calm down, sweetie,” he said. “It was just a supply truck.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I don’t mean to be so nervous.”

“It’s tough, I know. I miss you like crazy and can’t wait to come home to you. I’m gonna kiss every square inch of your body.”

She tingled in places that had been in hibernation since he left. “I can’t wait until then, either. Do you know how much longer you’ll be gone?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said. “Just picture me naked every day ‘til I come home. Because I sure as hell am thinking about you.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m thinking about you, too. All the time. But keep your mind on your job.”

“Just one more thing before I have to go,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Do you have to go?”

“Merry Christmas, babe,” was the last thing she heard before the call disconnected. She stared at the cell phone in her hand. It wasn’t a call saying he was coming home. Somewhere in the world, he was still in harm’s way. If he came back at all, he might end up like her brother. She returned her phone to the table and placed the book next to it. She then proceeded to roll over and cry herself to sleep.

25.

“Autumn…

Hey, Autumn.”

A voice entered her mind.

“Wake up, Autumn,” it said again.

“God, if that’s you, this isn’t a good time,” she muttered, rolling over on her side and pulling the covers to her chin.

“No. It’s me, Jason,” he said. She blinked into the dark fuzziness and opened her eyes. Jason crouched at the side of her bed, and his chin rested on the mattress. He resembled a floating head.

“Jason?” she asked. “What time is it?” The room was dark, the house around them quiet and still.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But you can’t let Madera be the father of your baby.”

“A little late for that.”

“Did you tell him?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t,” she replied. “So stop worrying and go back to bed.”

“Good. Don’t tell him. You don’t want him as the father of your kid.”

Autumn rubbed her forehead, hoping this was a bad dream. However, she had a sneaking suspicion that this, in fact, was horribly real.

“He’s bad news.” He tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m telling you, he’s an assassin.”

“He’s a Green Beret,” she muttered.

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