2
BECCA
I close my locker door and make my way out of the break room, giving Shelly a wave as I pass the desk.
“Hey girl, don’t forget to send your letter to your hunky military man.” I can do nothing but shake my head at her antics.
“I won’t. You know that this isn’t a dating service, right?”
“Sure, but you never know. I may just meet my one true love in uniform through these letters.”
This year, my team at the hospital decided to do one act of service for someone else during the holidays, seems odd that they would choose Independence Day, but who am I to argue? I have been looking for an excuse to give back to a service member for some time now. I am really excited about the idea of writing to a deployed service member and thanking them for the ultimate sacrifice. Who knows, I may even be able to make a friend out of it. The only thing about this that I’m not a fan of is we were assigned pen pals and, just my luck, I got a man. Now, I have nothing against the male species, but having to deal with another military man in my life is not something I am looking forward to. Unlike Shelly who is under the impression that this is more of a dating service than providing a service member with some much-needed supplies and good cheer during the holidays.
“Don’t hold your breath, sweetie. Military men bring nothing but heartache, trust me, I know,” I say as I finally exit the hospital into the cold night air. I know all too well the pain being with a military member can bring to your family. As I drive toward my apartment complex, I can’t fight the memories…
I can’t wait for him to come home! It has been a long deployment for us. Although we have been together since high school, we just got married a year before his departure. I know that I have months to go, but I have a surprise for him when he gets home, we have our own little bundle of joy on the way.
Neither one of us were expecting children so quickly after we got married, but that didn’t stop us from trying. When it came time for him to leave and the test came up negative, I was heartbroken. However, a few weeks ago, after a fainting spell, I discovered I was indeed pregnant. I hate having to tell him something like this over the phone or in a letter, but when it’s time, it’s time.
Suddenly, there is a knock at my door. Without thinking, I rush to the door and swing it open, two men in Marine dress uniforms are standing at my door. I suddenly can’t breathe, gasping for air as I grab onto the door handle. As if this is something they do every day, one of the men begins to speak. “Mrs. Cunningham, we regret to inform you that your husband, Sergeant Trent Cunningham was killed in action.”
I shake my head, bringing myself back to the present. That day was the end of everything I held dear. Luckily, we were stationed near my family, so I had some help, but giving birth to our little girl, Olivia, was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Olivia is the spitting image of her father with her bright blue eyes and golden blonde hair. If I hadn’t given birth to her myself, I would wonder if I was her mother.
I had large hopes of going to Art school and becoming a graphic novel artist, but those dreams came crashing down when I discovered being pregnant and going to school were harder than they made it look on television. I decided to become a Certified Nursing Assistant instead. With the help of my parents, I began working in my hometown, but the sympathetic looks started getting to me.
About a year ago, I got tired of being nothing more than Trent’s widow and chose to move. I knew it was going to be hard, but I discovered that I didn’t have to do any extra training to work in California, so I applied and landed a job in San Diego. I had never lived outside of Texas, but my little girl was all that mattered. Having no friends, family, or anyone else to depend on was a reality check, but we needed to have a life of our own.
I decided that I had to put my dreams on hold to be the parent Olivia deserved. Being both a mom and dad is hard, but we have made it work. Olivia wants for nothing and is spoiled rotten by my parents. They are always begging us to come back home, but Olivia needs to grow up knowing there is life after her father’s death. If we would have stayed in Texas, I don’t think either of us would have been able to move on.
As I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, I quickly head upstairs to grab Olivia from Mrs. Gonzales. Luckily for me, when I found this apartment, I was able to find a neighbor who was willing to watch Olivia while I worked. The hospital is great about only putting me on day shifts, but with that comes longer shifts and the need to work on weekends. I knock on Mrs. Gonzales’s door, out of breath from running up the stairs.
“Good evening, darling,” she says, but before she can even get another word out, I hear Olivia shout.
“Momma! Time home?” she says in her clipped three-year-old speech.
“Yes, baby, it is time to go home.” I bend down to give her a kiss on the forehead before hoisting her up into my arms. “Thank you so much for keeping an eye on her,” I say to Mrs. Gonzales, but as I turn to leave, she reaches out and taps my arm.
“I hate to say this, dear, but my son just had hip surgery and needs me to come help. He has three kids of his own.” I sigh, I don’t know where I am going to find a day care center that will accommodate my working hours, but that isn’t her problem.
“I am so sorry that your son isn’t doing well. When do you need to leave?” I ask, holding my breath and hoping that I have a little bit of time to decide on what to do with Olivia.
“I leave at the end of the week, but I can make other arrangements if you need more time to find someone to take care of Olivia while you are at work.”
I reach out and grab her hand. “Don’t worry about us. Tomorrow is my day off, so hopefully I can find a day care center tomorrow.”
“Hungey Momma!” Olivia shouts as she begins to fidget in my arms. I give Mrs. Gonzales a smile, and we make arrangements for her to keep Olivia tomorrow while I start the hunt for day care centers. Turning toward my own apartment, I send up a silent prayer to the powers that be because I have no idea what I am going to do now.