Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Yeah, we’re blessed.” Belinda sighed, worry lines deepening around her eyes and mouth. Her dark hair had a few more gray strands than the last time I’d seen her as well. “This latest deployment has been a super hard one. I mean, they’re all hard, but the older the kids get, the harder it is to pretend…sorry. You don’t need to hear my complaints.”
Actually, I did, more than she’d ever know. I’d vaguely understood the sacrifices home-front families made, but the reality of caring for someone in the military was so much more heart-wrenching than I ever could have anticipated.
“I’m happy to listen.” I held her gaze, not wanting to make this conversation about me but wanting her to know I was sincere. The shop was largely empty, late afternoon sun rapidly fading, and the bargain bin was well picked over. Another long, lonely night stretched in front of me, making me more talkative. “And it sucks for all of you. How…how do you keep going?”
I probably shouldn’t have asked, but I’d spent the last day desperate for answers. Hell, knowing which questions to ask would be a decent start.
“I don’t.” Belinda shrugged, the pain in her eyes echoing deep in my chest. Yeah, I shouldn’t have asked. “Okay, that’s not true. Obviously, I do go on. I get up, I get the kids to school, I manage to get to work, I make the dinners, and I fall asleep alone. I’m the opposite of a superhero. There are weeks like this one when going on with Brent deployed utterly sucks, and there are weeks when I remember the dream.”
“The dream?” I hoped this was less of a bad question.
“We’re twenty-two months away from his twenty-year retirement and our lives as full-time national park nomads. We’ve wanted this for years. Homeschool the kids for a year or two, see the country, get a sweet RV, and figure out the next great adventure. We’ve spent eighteen years dreaming together. Kids. House. Future plans. The dream gets us through because there’s no one I’d rather dream with.”
“Wow.” Swallowing, I wished I knew her well enough to offer a hug. No one I’d rather dream with. I knew exactly what she meant. “That’s beautiful. Truly.”
“Thanks.” She gave me a fast pat on the back of my hand. “Anyway, I better get back to the kids. Take care. Tell Nix and Atlas thank you too.”
“I will.” I didn’t tell her that Atlas had been deployed. She had enough worries of her own. But long after she departed, I mulled over what she’d said—the parts where she’d admitted life as a military family was super hard and the parts where she’d revealed why it was worth it for them.
I didn’t doubt that being a family with Atlas would be worth it. I wasn’t sure he wanted it, wasn’t sure how to get us from here to there, and wasn’t sure I was anywhere near as strong as Belinda Maurice. All I knew was I missed him more and more with each passing moment.
Twenty-Eight
ZEB
DECEMBER 27TH
Not surprisingly, by the twenty-seventh, I was the mopiest of mopey uncles as I helped Gabe, Paige, and Aunt Lucy bring the twins home.
After the twins passed their car seat tests and all the various medical personnel signed off on the discharge, it was late in the day, and everyone was more than a little cranky. Gabe and I hauled multiple loads of belongings out to the SUV in the parking garage. I’d accidentally parked in the same space I had on Christmas and the memory of longing for what couldn’t be kept smacking me square in the chest. I glanced across the parking garage toward the neighborhood Atlas and I had driven through. As predicted, most of the lights had been removed, packed away, another season over. I sighed hard enough that Gabe turned toward me, frowning.
“What’s up with you?” He slammed the back hatch shut. “I thought you’d be happy the holidays are almost over so you can get back to your gamer life. Pizza, energy drinks, and endless raids.”
“Gabe…” I shook my head. For once, I couldn’t let the teasing slide. Something had changed in the last month. Atlas had seen what I was trying to accomplish with my life. Others had too. The kids wanting autographs thought I was pretty awesome. Heck, if ninety-year-old Christine Maurice could see the value in what I did, Gabe could damn well make an effort. “I earn a good living at my gamer life. I have an accountant who ensures I do all the self-employment stuff above board. I have health insurance and a savings account. I’m not some kid futzing around with a channel with three subscribers. Fans know who I am. Fellow creators respect me. Why can’t you?”
“Oh.” Gabe paused, turning back to the car and looking at the rear door for long moments. “That’s…that’s a good point.” He licked his thin lips. “You’re my little brother. My job is to take care of you.”