The loudspeaker blares down the halls and in the classrooms. The principal’s voice echoes out his commands to the faculty and students. This morning, in about thirty minutes, the fighter squadron returns from a nine-month deployment. There is a ceremony—a ‘fly in’ every time a squadron returns home, but this time it’s even more special since this deployment was extended due to the tension in the middle east. The elementary students have decorated the hanger while the wives of the pilots fix and prepare the food. The local news station along with the enlisted who are stationed here all come out to watch the pilots fly in. For the past three years, I’ve led this activity. I enjoy watching the children create their masterpieces. I like to see how they envision their pride for their nation and all of those who fight to protect it.
“Come on, class. Let’s rise, push in our chairs and line up at the door,” I tell my fourth-grade class. They’re almost too old for these kinds of instructions, but I’d rather be thorough then have to yell and interrupt the good mood of the room.
Once the ceremony is over, the school will be let out early in celebration, and I get to finally go to the property management office and grab my keys to the condo I’m renting. Although Heath and I have spent the past three weeks communicating, I know that I need to continue on with my plans and take possession of the condo. When Heath called to talk, I was beyond nervous. I knew that I’d handled that night in our room wrong, and he had every right to read me the riot act.
But he didn’t.
In fact, he did the complete opposite. I saw a lot of the Heath that I fell in love with when I was still a girl at the diner that day. So much so that I’m confident that we will find our way back to each other. Until we reach that day, everything goes ahead as planned.
“Hey, roomie.” Tony comes up beside me as I walk the kids outside and down the path that leads to the hanger. I’ve been staying with him and my brother these past few weeks. They’ve been great, but it’s time I move into my own place.
The kids have been spending the majority of their time with their dad because my brother’s place isn’t that big and they only have one guest room since the other room is technically my brother’s office. The kids have seemed all right with the current living situation. I still get them every day after school once they’re done with sports, of course, and we hang out at the coffee shop together while they finish their homework. Most nights we eat dinner together, and then I take them home to Heath’s house. They keep telling me they’re okay, but I’m not certain if that’s how they actually feel or if they’re saying that to help ease my pain. There hasn’t been a night yet when I haven’t cried as I’ve driven away from them.
“Hey there,” I tell him as I concentrate on making sure the kids don’t fall out of line. With all these kids, order is key to ensure everything goes smoothly.
“What’s your plan for tonight?” he asks.
“Well, as soon as I’m done here, I’m getting my keys, and I’m going to start moving everything in.”
Heath took off with his friends a few days after I left the house. I shouldn’t have been surprised since it was a planned trip, but I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t hurt. It was like a punch to the gut when the kids told me that Heath wanted me to come by during that time to gather the rest of my things so he wouldn’t be there to witness it. I had my brother, Tony and the kids pack everything I would need. I only took things that we had duplicates of because I wasn’t about to leave him with nothing. This separation hasn’t been about needing to stick it to him. It’s been about what I think needs to happen to either rekindle our marriage or to let it go. Simple as that.
The hanger is abuzz with activity. The red, white, and blue banners are hanging with pride. The posters from the kids are scattered about the metal building. The news outlets are set up off to the side in order to get the best view of the jets as possible. The kids get antsy when they know their parents are coming home, especially with the length of this deployment.
“They’re almost here,” someone shouts, so I take my place in the back behind the kids. One of my kids stands there, picking his nails, not caring about what’s happening around him. He’s new to the school this year, and his mother happens to be another teacher on campus. She teaches the sixth grade, and I haven’t gotten to meet her yet, but I do know that, like me, she has three kids.
“Hey, Ben.”
He looks up at me. “Hey, Mrs. James.”
I can hear the roar of the engines as the jets near, so I bend over a bit. “What’s up, buddy. Isn’t your dad flying in today?” Ben’s father is in the military as well. He’s an officer, from what I’ve heard.
“Yeah.” His voice is raspy, and I think it’s adorable. His sandy blond hair blows as the jets make their first pass over the audience.
“Aren’t you excited?”
He shrugs. “I guess.” This isn’t a typical reaction for a child his age. I’ve been around them long enough and seen enough of these reunions to know that something else must be going on in Ben’s head.
Bending down, I meet his gaze. “You want to tell me what’s really going on?” I place my hand on his back, and make small circular motions.
He turns his head towards the jets then back to me. Taking a step closer he leans into me and softly speaks in my ear. “My dad’s not gonna live with us when he finally gets to come home.” His confession breaks my heart. He’s only nine, still so young that I’m not sure he understands what’s truly going on with his parents. It also makes me think back to my marriage and my kids.
“Is that why you’re here hanging back?”
“I guess, you know. When he finally gets back, he’s not going to be home.”
Poor guy. I wish I could shield him from all of his hurt and tell him that it’s going to be okay. I wonder what happened in his parents’ marriage. I wonder if they were having the same things happen in their marriage as I’m having. I don’t know Ben’s parents’ story, and I’m not going to pretend to be an expert on their situation. Everyone’s different. Heath and I never really fought. We didn’t sling insults at each other. But even without the insults or bad thoughts our marriage still fizzled out.
“Ben, sweetie–”
“Benjamin, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” When I stand, I see a leggy blond with a bob of golden hair approach us. Priscilla Prescott, Ben’s mom.
“Mrs. Prescott, I’m Whitney James.” I offer my hand to shake. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of formally meeting. I’m Ben’s teacher.” I laugh, shaking my head. “But I’m sure you know that. Duh, we’re both teachers, working at the same school.” I’m rambling, and I only do that when I’m nervous. I’m not sure why I’m nervous with this woman. Maybe it’s because she looks like she’s come off the runway of Milan while I look more like I’ve come from the aisle of Target. How the hell did she have three kids and keep her hips and stomach looking like she’s barely gone through puberty? When I notice that she’s not going to take my hand, I drop it. Okay, then.
“I know who you are, obviously, since you are educating my child. I’d love to stay and chitchat, but his father has landed, and he hasn’t seen him in some time, so that takes precedent.” She nods then turns on her heels to leave. “Benjamin, grab Talia’s hand.” That’s when I see a very young, little girl with pale white curls standing behind her mother. She gives me a toothy grin and a little wave before Ben grabs her hand and pulls her with him.
The jets taxi strategically onto the tarmac. The families line up behind the rope as they watch the cockpits open. Ladders are released, tumbling down the side of the planes. When the men stand up, all at the same time, the cheers and screams from the families roar into the air. The emotion makes chills break out onto my skin. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen this, it never gets old.
When I scan the sea of family members, it makes me laugh to see some of the parents grabbing their kids by the collars of their shirts, making sure they don’t run past the line when they see their fathers and mothers. Some even fight back, tugging, trying to get free. Some of the pilots walk at normal speed towards the crowds, but then there are others that run towards their families. My heart tugs at the sight.
“It never gets old, does it?” Nancy, the other fourth-grade teacher, says from my side.
With a smile I respond, “It doesn’t, does it?”
She wipes a few tears from her cheeks as we continue to witness the homecoming of our brave men and women. The sun reflecting off Priscilla’s shiny hair catches my eye. Her body, encased in a pencil skirt and tight sleeveless sweater, is rigid. She’s standing back, while her two kids hug their now crouched father. Even from this distance, you can tell she doesn’t want to be involved in the reuniting of the children with their father.
My heart goes out to Ben. I’m sure he has expressed to her in some way how he’s feeling about his father, and it upsets me that she doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. How dare she be so closed off from the situation. She should be happy that her children’s father is home and safe. Then it dawns on me that their oldest child isn’t present. I know that he’s in the same grade as Jenna, but I can’t believe she didn’t pull him out so that he could be here to see his father’s return. I vocally groan in irritation.
“What’s going on with you?” Nancy nudges my arm.
“Nothing. Just watching.”
“Well, I can tell that you’re perturbed at what you’re witnessing.”
“Am I that obvious?” I say without breaking my gaze from Ben and his father.
“I’ve worked with you long enough to know that most of the time you wear your heart on your sleeve. That’s not always a positive attribute, you know. That’s probably the main reason why you’re getting a set of keys to a condo that you won’t be sharing with your husband.”
I’m shocked that she knows. Other than Tony, I haven’t said anything to anyone that I work with. “How did you know about that?”
“This base is like gossip central, dearie. Everything gets around at one time or another,” she says with a cocked brow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh nothing, nothing at all,” she says with a laugh. “Oh, by the way,” she says over her shoulder as she returns to her kids, “have you read any good books lately?”
She gives me a wink as she continues to retreat.