Between Friends

by Debbie Macomber

  My dearest Jillian,

  Word came just after dark that we’ll be lifting off at first light. The fighting lately has been fierce. I’ve seen good men die. The fact is, Jillian, I might not come home. Holding you, loving you and marrying you is all I care about. But the way things look here, I don’t know if that will be possible.

  If you read this, the worst has happened. I know Brad will find a way to get this letter and my mother’s medallion back to you. There’s one thing I want you to know, and I hope you find peace with it. I’m not afraid of death. Not when it’s been an unwelcome passenger on damn near every mission I’ve flown. I don’t want to die, but I’ve come to believe in God and accept His will in my life, however long or short that is. Personally, I’d choose to end my days in some rocking chair with you at my side and a grandchild on my knee.

  Your love for me is everything I’ll ever need. You believed in me and showed me I could be and do anything I want. If I die, Jillian, I want you to know that I will love you through eternity.

  Remember how much I love you.

  Nick

  Doug Knowles

  Senior Creative Writing Class

  DYING TO BE FREE

  It happened 200 years ago,

  And it’s happening today.

  In Boston it was a Tea Party

  And freedom fighters of yesterday.

  Now students stand in Tiananmen Square,

  And their hearts are filled with dreams.

  They have hopes for Democracy

  And all that it brings.

  The fire in their hearts

  Is reflected in their eyes.

  The rage of the army

  Is heard in battle cries.

  Their Goddess of Democracy

  Lies crushed in the square.

  She symbolized their purpose;

  Now she warns each to prepare.

  The cry for freedom is louder

  Than any bell can toll.

  The government can murder people

  But never destroy their goal.

  What began as a demonstration

  Has begot civil war.

  Deng hoped that by killing,

  Things would return to ways before.

  But people are no longer happy

  With what used to be.

  They are ready for a change.

  They are dying to be free.

  The Class of

  Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Nine

  Pine Ridge High School

  Announces its

  Commencement Exercises

  Sunday afternoon, June fourth

  At three o’clock By Invitation only

  LESLEY KNOWLES

  June 5, 1989

  Dear Doug,

  Congratulations! You did your mother and your family proud this afternoon.

  It looks like I’m not going to be able to change your mind about joining the Navy. All right, Doug, go ahead with my blessing. You’re a strong, capable young man, and you have a lot to offer.

  Love,

  Mom

  July 14, 1989

  Dear Mom and Christopher,

  Davey was right, Basic Training is hard. It’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m going to see it through.

  I have some news. We were tested last week and remember how I always got top grades in French with hardly any studying? Well, it seems I have a flair for languages. That’s what the tests say. I talked with the Staff Sergeant, and he says I’ll probably be sent to Linguistic School. I asked him what languages I might be learning. I don’t hold out much hope that I’ll be taking French again, but who knows. It seems there’s an emphasis on the Middle Eastern languages, especially Arabic.

  I got a letter from David and he’s hoping to get out of Panama soon. He complained about the heat and the bugs, but I think he’s missing Meagan more than anything.

  Hey, Christopher, have you moved into my bedroom yet? You’d better not, ’cause I’ll come back and kick your butt if you do. I’ve learned a hundred different ways to maim and kill and I have no qualms about using any of them on you. PSYCH! It wouldn’t hurt to write your big brother once in a while, you know.

  Take care,

  Doug

  LESLEY KNOWLES

  August 4, 1989

  Dearest Jillian,

  I just got back from the travel agent’s and I’ve booked everything on my end. I’m so excited I feel like a kid again. The last real vacation I had was when I was thirteen and our family went camping.

  I fly into Miami on October 17th with a plane change in Atlanta. My flight lands just fifteen minutes after yours. I’ll meet you at the gate and we can go collect our luggage together. We pick up the rental car at the airport. I don’t mind driving as long as you navigate.

  I’ve never heard of the resort, but then how would I? Marathon Key. Any reason it’s named that? Not that it matters. I’d go just about anywhere as long as we could be together for nine glorious days. I’ve already got a few books I’m saving to read. One I’m bringing is The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. It really looks interesting.

  Taking this time off isn’t going to be a problem at the office. Dr. Milton has booked a two-week cruise for him and his wife, also in October. She appears to be responding to the treatments. Dr. Milton is devoted to her. I’ve always respected him, but seeing how much he loves his wife gives me faith that there might be a good man in my future.

  Christopher thinks it’s ridiculous that he has to go stay with Mom and Eric while I’m away. But I don’t feel right about leaving a fifteen-year-old boy on his own. I’m determined not to give in, even though he has a way of talking me around. I remember how Mom spoiled Bruce, and now I catch myself doing the same thing with my youngest.

  I’m so anxious to see you, I can hardly stand it. Just two more months!

  Love,

  Lesley

  1991

  Jillian’s Journal

  January 1, 1991

  At the start of a new year I’m usually filled with enthusiasm and energy. This year is different. What I feel now is dread and worry. Not since Vietnam have I been this afraid. It’s almost certain that we’re going to war against Iraq. The coalition has been building up its forces for months, and the deadline for Iraq to withdraw its troops from Kuwait is looming closer, although there’s been no movement at all. Apparently James Baker, the Secretary of State, is meeting with the Iraqi Foreign Minister early in the month, but no one’s holding out much hope of a peaceful resolution.

  I can feel tension everywhere on the streets of New York, where security has never been higher. There’s fear of terrorist activity all across America, but a lot of people believe that if and when it happens, it’ll be here in New York. An uneasy feeling comes over me every morning when Leni Jo leaves for school. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to my daughter.

  Speaking of children, I’m sick with fear for Lesley. Both David and Doug are in the Persian Gulf. David is with the ground forces and Doug’s aboard one of the aircraft carriers. Lesley is frantic. She’s dedicated her entire life to her children. The thought of either boy being killed is enough to start her weeping uncontrollably. This brings back all the angst I endured when Nick left for Vietnam. I remember how high his morale was when he flew to Southeast Asia. He was confident that he’d put in his time and get the hell out of there and return home safe and whole. I see that same enthusiasm in the faces of our young men and it terrifies me. These boys have no idea what they’re headed for, no idea at all. Dear God, this is insanity!

  Mom and Leni Jo are walking down to St. Patrick’s every afternoon to pray for peace. Leni Jo tells me the church is bright with all the votive candles people have lit. My daughter astonishes me with her understanding of this situation. Her teacher has gotten the entire class involved in a letter-writing campaign to our troops. Thank heaven she has Mom to talk to about this war, because I can’t seem to manage more than a few coherent words at a time. This is all too f
amiliar, and all too real. In my heart I know that Saddam Hussein intends to play this out to the bitter end, whatever that might be. Everyone’s biggest fear is that he’ll use biological warfare, which he’s done in the past against Iran.

  I don’t know what the future holds for our country, my family or for me. When life was riding along fairly smoothly I didn’t give peace much thought. Now worries consume me and the unknown future is a frightening prospect.

  Pine Ridge Herald

  January 7, 1991

  Obituary

  Services are being held for Gloria Milton, 50, who died at her home Sunday, January 6th. Mrs. Milton succumbed after a long illness. The service will be held Wednesday the 9th, at 1 p.m. at Our Lady of the Woods Mortuary. Burial will be in Pine Ridge Cemetery.

  Mrs. Milton was born August 10, 1942 in Portland, Oregon. She attended the University of Oregon where she met Dr. Steven Milton, OB GYN. They were married in 1964.

  Survivors include her husband and two daughters, Maryanne Steadman and Sandy Princeton; two grandchildren, Bryce and Jay Ann; one sister, Joan, and one brother, Ken, in addition to several nieces and nephews.

  Mrs. Milton was an active volunteer in the community. She was a member of the Regular Baptist Church, and sang with the choir. She taught first-grade Sunday school for twelve years.

  In lieu of flowers the family requests donations to the American Cancer Society.

  SOMEWHERE IN SAUDI ARABIA

  January 14, 1991

  Dear Mom and Christopher,

  Thanks for all the mail. I can’t tell you how great it is to hear from you. They’re keeping us busy here, so we barely have a moment to ourselves. It’s hot and miserable, but the desert has its own beauty, too. (Or so they say. I haven’t discovered it yet, but give me time.) We’re all working together toward a common purpose and because of that, everyone’s pretty much able to look past any discomfort.

  I know you don’t want to hear this, but it looks like we’re going into battle soon. The brass haven’t discussed their battle plans with me, but war seems inevitable. I don’t want to die. If it happens, though, I want to be prepared for it. That’s one of the reasons for this letter. Mom, you’ve been the greatest. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother in the whole world and I’m not just saying that. I mean it with all my heart. I know that life with Dad was never easy for you, but you did everything you could to hold the family together. Lindy might not believe that, but Doug, Christopher and I do.

  I haven’t heard from Dad in years. None of us have, but I feel like I should make my peace with him. I talked to a lady who works with the Red Cross and she said she could help me locate him. I’ve written him a letter and given her all the information I had. The last thing I remember, he was in Sitka, Alaska. That’s right, isn’t it? She said she’d do everything she could to find him and give him my letter.

  Thanks, Mom, for phoning Meagan. She said it meant a lot to her. If I come out of this alive, I’m going to ask her to marry me. Do you have any feelings about that? I’d like to make you a grandmother within the next few years.

  Don’t worry about me, Mom. I mean that. We each have a job to do on this earth and it could be that mine has been accomplished. You raised me as a Christian so I know where I’m headed if this is the end.

  I’ll write more as soon as I can, but I wanted to tell you that I’ve sought out Dad. I don’t expect a reply, but there were things I needed to settle between him and me, just in case… I know you’ll understand.

  Love,

  David

  Lesley’s Journal

  February 4, 1991

  I’m addicted to the television, watching news of the war. Desert Storm is a good name for it. It feels as though my entire life has been caught up in a sandstorm, a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty. First David and Doug being shipped to the Middle East to fight for a country I’d never heard of until last year. Then Mrs. Milton died, and although it was expected, her death hit me hard. She was such a gracious, kind and generous woman. Poor Dr. Milton seems lost without her. He’s only been back to work these past two weeks and just isn’t himself. This is such a difficult time for him.

  Cole Greenberg is one of CNN’s correspondents from inside Baghdad. Whenever his face flashes on the screen, I feel breathless. I’m instantly flooded with all these emotions I’d prefer not to confront. He was sincere with me, and I was young, foolish and afraid. My divorce from Buck left the children so needy, shaken to their core, and I had to be there for them 100%. I still believe it was best to cut things off when I did, even though I have my regrets.

  Everyone expects the ground war to start soon. So far, it appears we have reason to be optimistic. Hussein is doing everything he can to draw us into battle on the ground, which includes turning Kuwait into an environmental disaster area. I realize that as soon as the war starts, David will be in the thick of it. All I can do is pray and trust in God. Living hand to mouth the way we did when Buck was part of the family, I thought I knew what faith was about. But leaving the lives of two of my children in God’s hands—that’s real faith.

  Jillian and I talk nearly every day now. She tries to hide how concerned she is about the war and David and Doug. She’s afraid my sons won’t be coming home. She’s terrified of history repeating itself. I remind her that this isn’t Vietnam, but I don’t think she hears me.

  She’s coming for a visit in August. We have a condo booked in Mexico for a week. No kids, no worries, just sunshine and laughter while we create more happy memories. My prayer is that by then, this terrible war will be behind us.

  P.O. Box 984

  Lubbock, Texas 79460

  February 11, 1991

  Dear Lesley,

  Surprise! I bet I was the last person you expected to hear from. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

  Listen, I owe you a shitload of child support, but the past few years haven’t been easy. I had enough trouble supporting myself, let alone four kids. It looks like you did all right without me, though. I probably won’t ever find the money to pay you what I owe. I wish things were different but they’re not, and you might as well accept that. Knowing you, I suspect you already have. You were never one to hold a grudge.

  After my stint in Alaska I headed for Texas, which was a mistake. I won’t go into my troubles here, but there were reasons other than the child support issue why you didn’t hear from me. I’ve been sober for six months and think I’ve finally got my problems with booze licked. I’ve got a job and a decent place to live. I was married a second time but that was another mistake I made in the past thirteen years.

  Enough about me. I had the surprise of my life when I heard from David. His letter arrived last week and I have to tell you it shook me up pretty bad. I had no idea he was over in the Middle East. Doug, too, he said.

  I’m concerned about David. What he said in his letter led me to believe he doesn’t expect to come home. I’ve probably told you this before, but I’ve done a lot of things I regret. I’m not ashamed to admit it. Hell, everyone makes mistakes. But marrying you and fathering four children are the things of which I’m proudest. You did one hell of a good job raising ’em, and you did it with damn little help from me.

  Getting David’s letter made me realize everything I walked away from when you asked for that divorce. I talked with my AA sponsor, and one of the twelve steps to recovery has to do with making retribution wherever possible. If it takes me the next fifty years, I swear I’m going to make up to you for all the grief I caused you and the kids.

  I guess what I’m saying is I want to be part of the family again. David said you’d never remarried. I’m glad, Lesley, because that means I have a chance. Tell me I do. It would mean the world to me.

  I handed in my notice at work this morning. It won’t take much to pack up everything I have. I’ll probably have to nurse my truck along the way, but it should get as far as Washington. If all goes well, I’ll be back in Pine Ridge before March 1st.

  For t
he first time in a lot of years, I have hope. I gotta tell you, it feels damn good.

  See ya soon.

  Buck

  February 15, 1991

  Dearest Dad,

  I don’t know if this will reach you before you leave Texas, but I had to try. Mom has let it be known that you aren’t welcome to live with her and Christopher, but you can stay with me if you want. I have a cat and it’s just a small studio apartment, but we can manage, don’t you think? It will be good to see you again.

  Your daughter,

  Lindy

  From the Department of Defense

  Addressed to: Mrs. Lesley Knowles

  February 16, 1991

  It is with deep regret that we inform you that your son David Michael Knowles

  Is Missing in Action

  In

  Iraq

  JILLIAN LAWTON GORDON

  331 WEST END AVENUE

  APARTMENT 1020

  NEW YORK, NY 10023

  February 20, 1991

  Dearest, dearest Lesley,

  I can’t sleep. I know we talked for an hour already, but I’m still in shock. I can’t accept this is happening. The ground war has yet to start. How can David be missing? You explained everything to me, but I’m having a hard time taking it in.

  At least there’s hope. We know that when the helicopter went down, there were men seen on the ground who survived the crash. I have to believe David was one of those men, otherwise I think I’ll go crazy. I can’t allow myself to remember what happened to Nick. But as you’ve reminded me so often in the past few months, this isn’t Vietnam and David isn’t Nick.

  I haven’t stepped inside a church since Monty’s funeral. I felt that God turned His back on me and to be honest, I haven’t missed Him. You’ve always maintained your faith, and while I considered all that Bible talk fine for you, I wasn’t interested. Religion is not the answer for me. But Lesley, I don’t mind telling you how afraid I am, for David and for you. This situation is forcing me to relive the biggest nightmare of my life.

  You say the word and I’m on the next flight out of here. If there’s anything and I mean ANYTHING I can do, let me know. You’re as close as any sister I could have had.