“Gris!” exclaimed Claire, waving from a bench that looked out on the base parking lot. “I saved you a spot.”

Griselda made her way through the crowd, grinning at her very pregnant friend. “Baby ended up waiting for daddy to get home, huh?”

“And just in the nick of time,” said Claire, pointing at her massive belly. “This is happening any minute.”

“All this excitement? I bet your water breaks when he kisses you hello,” teased Griselda, taking a seat.

Claire sighed. “Did this tour feel longer than six months? Or is that just me?”

It always feels longer, thought Griselda, remembering the spring day, half a year ago, when she kissed Holden good-bye and watched him step onto the bus for his second tour to Afghanistan.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “At least they’re home for Thanksgiving this time.”

“You two going East?” asked Claire. “To see family?”

Griselda nodded. “That’s the plan. Hannah’s turning three. Can you believe it?”

They’d missed Thanksgiving and Hannah’s first birthday due to Holden’s first deployment, but they’d managed to make it last year, and Griselda was overjoyed that they’d be there again this year. Hannah Croft Davis was a delightful, smart, beloved little girl who was still learning how to be nice to her brand-new little brother, according to Maudie’s most recent letter.

“I’m surprised the doc’s letting you fly,” said Claire, looking pointedly at Griselda’s tummy, which wasn’t quite as round as her friend’s yet.

Griselda placed her palms protectively over the swell under her red baby-doll top. “I’m not even seven months yet! Don’t rush me.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Claire with a tired sigh. “I guess I was thinking of me. Not allowed to fly until after she comes.” Claire nudged Griselda in the side. “Does Holden know yet? That you’re having a boy?”

Griselda shook her head. “No. But he’s going to find out today.”

“Oh!” said Claire, shifting to the side to pull something out of her purse. “I almost forgot! I wanted you to sign this before the baby gets here. I bought it off Amazon.”

Griselda looked down at the familiar, colorful cover of her first book of children’s fairy tales. “Claire! You didn’t have to do that! I would have given you one for free.”

“Nuh-uh,” she answered. “I’m a paying customer!”

Griselda took the proffered pen, signing her name and writing a message to Claire and Graham’s first child, a girl they planned to name Grace, before handing the book back to Claire.

“‘Dear Grace,’” Claire read. “‘May you find your Sun King too. Love, Lady Starlight.’ What does it mean?”

“It means I wish her happiness,” said Gris softly.

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden chattering among the other family members around them. Mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, wives like Griselda and Claire, and their children stood up from the bleachers as the big white truck pulled into the parking lot bearing the luggage of the returning platoon.

“They’re almost here!” exclaimed Griselda, leaping up and helping Claire to her feet.

First the white truck, then the white school buses, she thought, her heart leaping with excitement to see her husband again. Holding Claire’s hand, she strained up on tiptoes to see if the buses were coming around the corner yet.

“Any minute!” said Claire, squeezing her friend’s hand.

A moment later, the joyful whooping and clapping started, and Griselda looked up to see three white buses approaching the empty parking lot. The buses pulled in and parked as the roar of the crowd grew louder. Her eyes started to water with anticipation, and she scanned the buses, wondering which one held Holden.

“They’re here!”

Cameras clicked and flags waved. Little children in their patriotic best asked, “Where’s Daddy?!” while holding homemade welcome signs, and the whole crowd laughed and smiled, whooping and clapping.

As the buses parked, the crowd surged forward for their reunions, and Griselda gave Claire a careful hug before dropping her friend’s hand. Khaki-covered Marines started filtering through the crowd as they exited the buses, looking for loved ones with big smiles and glistening eyes.

Griselda’s heart thumped like crazy as she searched their tan faces, recognizing some, but looking for the one she loved, and then . . . there he was, just a few feet away, sliding his hat off his shaved head with wonder, and beaming as his eyes caught hers. She laughed, tears streaming down her face as he closed the distance between them. His eyes dropped, just for a second, to her belly, before sliding back up to her face.

“Gris,” he said, pulling her into his arms and dropping his lips to hers.

He kissed her tenderly, their tears mixing together as she instantly remembered how he felt, how he tasted, how he loved her more and better than anyone ever would or could.

Breathless, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, and he held her tightly as he whispered, “I missed you like crazy,” close to her ear as they rocked back and forth together.

She leaned back to kiss him again, smiling and laughing and crying as she answered, “I love you forever.”

“You feeling okay, Mrs. Croft?” he asked, stepping back and letting his eyes drop to her swollen tummy.

“I’m feeling pregnant,” she said, smoothing her hands over the bump. “And I missed you.” She grinned up at him. “And so did our son.”

“Our . . .?” He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes wide.

“Our son.” She nodded, cupping his cheeks and giggling through her tears. “We’re having a boy, Holden.”

“G-Gris,” he murmured, blinking his eyes, his lips trembling, overcome.

He clutched her against him again, resting his forehead on her shoulder as she laced her fingers on the back of his neck, savoring the feeling of his strong arms around her. And her heart sang, for this was Holden: her best friend, her confidant, her lifelong protector, the keeper of her memories, the father of her child, the love of her life, her beginning and her end—Holden, whom she loved, whom she trusted, who belonged to her, was beside her once again.

I jump, you jump, she thought, resting her head in the curve of his neck and breathing in the scent of his sweet-smelling skin. We did it. We’re on the other side, my love.

“Ask me if I’m whole or broken, Griselda Croft,” he said, leaning back to tenderly place his palm on her belly before looking up at her with tears in his beloved gray eyes.

“Are you whole or broken, Holden Croft?”

“I’m whole, angel,” he said, staring down at her face before drawing her back into the heaven of his arms. “I’m finally home.”

 

 

THE END