Southern Sunshine

by Natasha Madison

  "Yes sir,” I say even though my heart is breaking. For the past six years, this is all I’ve known. This is all I’ve wanted.

  "I’m looking forward to having you back." We stand, and I shake his hand.

  "I’ll be back better than ever," I tell him, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind me softly.

  The phone rings in my back pocket. Taking it out, I see it’s my father. “Hello,” I say, answering him as I walk out of the building.

  "Hey," he says. “I was wondering if you were going to send me to voice mail," he jokes.

  “I did that one time, Dad,” I say. “One time three years ago."

  "And I’m still holding it over your head." He laughs now. “How did the meeting go?"

  "I’m on convalescent leave,” I say, and the words are bitter in my mouth. It’s going to be a tough pill to swallow.

  "What are you going to do?" he asks as I open my truck door.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why don’t you come home?” His voice goes soft. “I’ll set everything up here for a physical therapist to work with you. You can even stay in the white house. You know that no one will bother you there." I laugh, knowing he is right. No one likes going there because it’s like a museum. He’s bargaining with me because I haven’t been home since I left all those years ago. Not once. "You know Grandma and Grandpa have been asking for you."

  Starting my truck, I look out at the green trees and hear honking in the distance. "You have thirty days," he says, and I close my eyes.

  "Fine,” I say, and I can hear him cheer from here. "Let me get my shit together, and then I’ll message you when I land."

  "You call me when your shit is ready," my father says. “I’ll get you a plane."

  "Fine,” I say, knowing I won’t be able to argue with him, and if I do, he’ll get on the plane and come and get me himself. I hang up the phone and make my way over to the house I share with five other fellow soldiers.

  We are never here all at the same time, so it works out for us. I walk up the steps one at a time because my leg burns. Opening my door, I grab my green duffel bag and put my clothes in it. My phone rings again, and looking down, I see it’s my brother.

  "Dad call you?" I ask, laughing. It’s good to hear his voice.

  "No,” he says. “I was with him when he called you. Gotta say I thought he was going to cry."

  "I’ve been telling you this my whole life." I grab my T-shirts. “I’m his favorite."

  "Harlow is his favorite," he says. “Only because she won’t move out of the house."

  "What the fuck is she still doing living at home?" I ask, shocked.

  "Why don’t you ask her when you get here?" he says. “You need anything?"

  "Nah, I think I’ll be good,” I say. “Are you with Dad?"

  "He’s in the barn, why?" he asks.

  "Tell him I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” I say, and he laughs.

  "The plane was ready five seconds after you hung up on him. I’ll send you the information."

  "Figures,” I say, turning now to sit on my bed. “See you soon."

  "Fly safe,” he says and disconnects. The ping of a text comes through right after with the address of the private airfield.

  I exhale, looking around the bare room. I haven’t really done much to it, the only personal things I have are the pictures on my dresser of some of the places I’ve visited.

  Getting up, I take one more look around. “Be back in twenty-nine days," I tell the bare walls. As I’m leaving, I run into one of my roommates.

  "Hey, where are you off to?" he asks, looking at my bag slung over my shoulder.

  "Home,” I say, and his eyes go big. “It’s been a while."

  "When are you coming back?" he asks.

  "Not sure yet. But by next month,” I say. “See you then.” I look down when I get a text from my father.

  Dad: Car is out waiting for you. No rush.

  "My car is here,” I say. “Take care."

  "Stay safe." I salute him as I walk out of the house. The car is parked out front, and the driver gets out to grab my bag.

  "I got it,” I say, and he waits for me to put the bag in the trunk. He holds the door open for me, and I get in. We don’t chitchat as he drives to the airfield where the private plane is waiting for me. My heartbeat speeds up as I get closer, and I want to tell the driver to take me back. Maybe going to visit right now isn’t a good idea.

  I get out and meet the driver at the trunk, but someone is already there to grab my bag. “Welcome, Mr. Barnes,” he says, and not hearing my rank of staff sergeant in front is weird.

  I walk up the five little stairs and duck down to get into the plane, and the flight attendant is there smiling at me. “Welcome aboard,” she says. “We’ll get off the ground as soon as you’re seated."

  I walk to the chair with a nod, then sit down and look out the little window. The plane prepares for takeoff, and I see the car drive away. I look out the window as we take off, and when she comes back with a tray of fruit, I just smile at her and ask for water.

  My whole body is tight with nerves. I roll my neck, but my stomach gets tighter. As we get closer and closer to landing, my whole body trembles. My leg bounces, and when the wheels touch down, I feel like I’m going to vomit. "It’s just for a month," I remind myself, mentally preparing for the guilt and the questions on why I haven’t come back. Because the only answer I have will make me feel like an asshole.

  I wait for the door to open before I get up. After thanking her, I walk out of the plane, and the humidity hits me right away. I walk down the five steps and see a black Range Rover waiting off to the side.

  When the driver's side opens, and I see dirty cowboy boots, I smile. Only my father can pull this shit off. His jeans are even worse than his boots. His whole fucking face lights up when he sees me. He walks over to me with tears in his eyes. Grabbing my shoulder in his hand, he pulls me to him, giving me the biggest hug he’s ever given me in my life. He puts his hand on the back of my head, letting me go from the hug. Gazing into his blue eyes is like looking in a mirror. “Welcome home, son."

  Chapter 2

  Hazel

  The soft alarm wakes me, and I stick out my arm to grab my phone. I bring the phone with me under the covers and debate if I should get up and work out or just get the extra hour of sleep. I close my eyes, and when the second alarm wakes me, I throw the covers off me and get up.

  It’s still dark outside, but the sun is slowly starting to rise. I walk over to the chair in my room, slipping out of my shorts and tank top and replacing it with my yoga pants and sports bra. I grab my water bottle out of the fridge and walk to the exercise bike in the corner of the living room. Turning the television on low, I start riding the bike, and forty-five minutes later, I’m heaving while I walk down the hallway.

  Stopping in front of the closed door and opening it, I see it’s still a bit dark in the room. My daughter, Sofia, sleeps in the middle of the bed with the covers kicked off. I pull the door just a bit even though she should be getting up any second now. She has her own alarm clock, and every day at six thirty, she is out of bed. Even when she was born five years ago, six thirty was her time. No matter what time she goes to bed, it’s her inner clock.

  I step into the shower, and like clockwork, I hear her walking in right when I’m drying myself off. “Momma." She rubs her eyes as she comes to me.

  I look up at my twin and smile. “Morning, baby,” I say, softly kissing her neck. "How did you sleep?"

  "Good," she grumbles. “I had a dream of clowns and horses."

  I laugh. “Did the clowns ride the horses?" I ask, and she giggles. “Why don’t you go get dressed, and I’ll start breakfast."

  "Okay, Momma." She stops in front of me again so I can kiss her. "I want pancakes."

  "Okay," I say, kissing her on the lips now and watching her bounce off to get dressed.

  I slip on my robe and walk to the kitchen of my condo,
opening the shades to allow the sunlight to pour in.

  I never thought I’d be a single mom. Not me. I had a plan, and none of that was me being a teenage mom. I could have given up then and there, but instead, it pushed me harder. Not only did I want to achieve big things but I also wanted to do it for Sofia. I never ever wanted her to miss anything, never wanted her to have that thought in her head that because I had her, my dreams were crushed.

  So I put my head down and took extra business classes to make sure I would be okay when I gave birth. I took three weeks off and then jumped back into school. My grandfather covered all the daycare bills for Sofia, and I had a small trust fund from when my parents passed away to help with expenses.

  My grandfather was my saving grace. I was so scared to tell him I was pregnant and see the disappointment in his eyes. When I was four years old, I was in the car with my parents when they were struck by a drunk driver. They hit a tree head-on, and the only ones who walked away from the accident with no scratches were the drunk driver and me. That day, he lost his only daughter, who he raised by himself after my grandmother passed away from an aneurysm when my mother was ten, and gained me.

  "I’m dressed," Sofia says, walking into the room wearing her private school outfit of a pleated skirt and a white polo shirt. She walks over to one of the stools and hops up on it as I take the strawberries out of the fridge and put some on a plate for her.

  "Ohh, my favorite,” she says, clapping her hands. “Thank you, Momma."

  I rush to make her the pancakes she wants while I mix myself a protein smoothie. I leave her to eat while I walk back to my bedroom and get dressed. I slip on a pair of black pants with a short-sleeved black shirt with white vertical and horizontal lines. Slipping on my black shoes, I walk to the bathroom to apply some mascara and then untie my hair from the ponytail, brushing it once. I’m walking out when my phone rings with a fifteen-minute warning. “Let’s go,” I say, returning to the kitchen to see Sofia putting her empty plate in the sink. "Go brush your teeth,” I say. “I’ll get your lunch." I put my smoothie cup in the sink and rinse it out, then turn to grab both of our lunch boxes out of the fridge.

  She skips off to brush her teeth while I put everything in the dishwasher and start it. I walk to the bathroom and find her finishing. I grab the hairbrush. “Two ponytails or one?" I ask, and she holds up two fingers. I brush her brown hair and put it up in pigtails. "Shoes,” I say when the phone alerts me with a five-minute timer.

  I find her at the front door, slipping on her blue Mary Jane shoes, strapping the Velcro herself. I grab her schoolbag with my purse and the two lunch boxes on my way out of the house. She stops right beside me while I lock the door and holds my free hand as we walk over to my truck. I press the unlock button to open the back door, and she climbs into her booster seat. I watch her buckle herself in while I put our bags in the front passenger seat. I close the door and make my way to the driver's side.

  Pulling out of the complex, I make my way over to her school. “Momma," she calls out, and I look at her through the rearview mirror. “Can we go to the beach this weekend?" she asks, looking out her window.

  "We can see,” I say. “We have to go visit a couple of camps. Summer is right around the corner."

  "Can we go to the beach after?" she asks, and I smile over at her. When the sun hits her eyes, I can see her father in her.

  "Probably,” I say, pulling up to her school and parking. I get out, then walk over and grab her bag out of the front seat before opening the back door for her. She jumps out, and I hand her the backpack and lunch box. I hold her hand as we walk toward the playground. Kids are running and playing, and a couple of the little girls call her name.

  Stopping outside of the gate, I squat down in front of her, and my heart fills with so much love. “Have the best day." Tapping her nose with my finger, I hug her and kiss her once, then she turns to walk into the schoolyard. I get up and watch her play with her friends, making a couple of to-do lists in my head.

  "Morning." I hear a mom beside me and look over to see the head of the PTA approaching. "I was hoping I would see you this morning,” she says, smiling, and all of her screams fake. "We are having a bake sale at the end of the month, and we were wondering if you could possibly make your special cupcakes and cookies."

  "Sure,” I say. “I’ll do a dozen of each."

  She claps her hands. “That’s fantastic,” she says. The bell rings, and I watch Sofia line up. Only when she walks inside do I turn and walk back to the truck.

  It takes me ten minutes to get to work, which is another reason I chose the school. Parking in the underground parking, I get out and walk over to the elevator. I press the button for the tenth floor when I step in all by myself.

  When the elevator doors open again, the wall-to-wall windows on this floor fill the area with light. "Morning, Sara," I say to the receptionist when I walk in and head down the gray carpet to my little office. I put my purse on my desk, then go to the communal kitchen and put my bag in the fridge. Grabbing a mug, I fill it with coffee and walk back to my office.

  I sit down and turn on my computer, seeing the company logo boot up right away. I graduated with a bachelor's degree in business in three years instead of the usual four, then took additional courses to graduate and pass the CPA. It was lots of sleepless nights and lots of sacrifices and tears on both sides. Thinking back now, I don’t know how I did it. I think it was the sheer determination mixed with the fact I couldn’t let my grandfather down again.

  Luckily, the company where I was doing my internship was expanding their office, so they reached out and offered me a job I couldn’t refuse. I could start after dropping Sofia off at school, and I could leave at four.

  A picture of me graduating with Sofia in my arms and my grandfather beside me sits on my desk. I check my emails, making sure my clients have sent me all the papers I need in order to close the files for the month. I don’t even realize how much time has passed when the phone rings. “Hello." I put the phone to my ear, looking at my screen.

  "Is this Hazel Bennett?" the male voice asks, and I don’t know why everything in me stops moving.

  "This is she,” I say, listening to a voice I’ve never heard before. A voice that will change my life.

  "This is Dr. Shepard.” He says his name, and everything around me feels like it’s spinning.

  "I’m sorry." I find the words lodged in my throat. “I don’t know a Dr. Shepard."

  I hear him breathe out. “I’m a friend and doctor to your grandfather, Kaine Johnson,” he says, and my stomach sinks.

  "Is my grandfather okay?" I ask, the panic apparent in my voice.

  "I’m so sorry to do this to you over the phone," he says, and the tears start. “Your grandfather has passed away."

  "What?" I ask in a whisper. “When?" I wipe the tear off my cheek. “I spoke to him two days ago, and he was fine."

  "He had stage four small cell carcinoma,” he says in a soothing voice.

  "I had no idea.” My heart breaks in my chest, knowing that, besides Sofia, my last family member I have is gone. "He never said anything."

  “He’s been sick a while, but he’s been struggling for the past six months," he says, filling me in, all I can do is sit there numb.“He was admitted into the hospital last week for complications, and we found out it had spread."

  I close my eyes, and all I can see is my grandfather and his big smile. I put my hand in front of my mouth. “Was anyone with him when he passed away?" I ask, and it takes him a couple of minutes to answer me.

  "He passed in his sleep," he says, and I try to hide my sob. “He had a DNR, and he also refused to let anyone see him like that. The funeral home has picked him up, and he’s being cremated this evening." I don’t say anything because I can’t. I can’t say anything. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Hazel," Dr. Shepard says. “He loved you and Sofia with everything he had."

  "Thank you,” I say, “for letting me know."

  "
If you have any questions or if you need anything …" He gives me his number, which I don’t take down. Hanging up the phone, I’m staring at my desk when someone walks by my office and notices me crying.

  "Are you okay?" Caitlyn says, and I just look at her because the shock is still settling in.

  "My grandfather passed away,” I say, and she puts her hand to her mouth.

  "Oh my gosh, is there anything I can do?" she asks.

  I look at her, saying the words I said I would never say. "I have to go home."

  Chapter 3

  Reed

  "Keep your head up." I looked around at my squad as they all nodded at me. We walked down the street, and rubble was everywhere. "Eyes open," I told them as the five of us walked side by side. We took in the shattered storefronts.

  "They did this to their own people," one of my guys said in disbelief, and I just looked over at him, I held the gun in my hand as we walked past what looks like a church. A couple of people are now in the street with us.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a little girl with brown hair, she looked straight at me. My breath stopped as she turned and walked into the building. My feet moved as I followed her and called out. “Stop,” I said, knowing she wasn’t going to understand. She walked into the front door, and when I got in there, I saw baby bassinets everywhere. I stopped in the middle of the room, my body bent over to pick up a disregarded doll. The blond hair was matted, and she had burn marks all over her, the plastic melted in some spots. Movement to the side made me look back at the little girl who stood there and smiled at me. I looked into her eyes and then saw the grenade in her hand as she dropped it on the floor. I yelled right before it exploded.

  I gasp as if I just came up from holding my breath underwater. Sitting up in the bed, I feel wetness all around me. It takes a second for me to gather my bearings and remember where I am. Using the light from the bathroom, I see that I’m in a king-size bed. "Home,” I say to myself. “I’m home." I look down, and drops of sweat drip off me.