Promised

by michelle turner

  The day I moved into my dorm, Linc and his parents helped. And two days later when Linc went to the recruiter’s office to enlist, he had me and his parents in tow. I lost part of my family over the decisions I made, but I gained a whole new part who loved me because of those choices. I still have moments where I miss my mom and other brothers, but I know I wouldn’t go back for all the sprinkle cupcakes in the world.

  Surveying the hanger again, I take in all the other wives, mothers, husbands, fathers, and children eagerly awaiting the return of their loved ones. My nine months mean nothing to some of these people who’ve waited a year or more for this moment. The hanger may be scorching hot and we may be waiting for hours, but I know that any of us would choose this over the alternative.

  My eyes fall onto the red, white, and blue flag hanging from the rafters and I take a deep breath to fight the tears that threaten to spill at the thought of the families who received a pine box and a folded up copy of the same flag instead. It could’ve happened to any of us, but we were lucky…this time.

  The screams, cheers, and cries break me out of my quiet contemplation. Mr. Tatman is squeezing my shoulder tighter and pulling me with him as he tries to move through the sea of people who are now crashing with the sea of men and women in their army fatigues. I scan the sea of tan, gray and green clad soldiers trying to find the face that I’ve been longing to touch and kiss for nine long months. We continue to maneuver around the people who are now clinging to their loved ones, going deeper and deeper into the sea.

  Finally, I catch site of a pair of familiar golden brown eyes and I let go of months worth of tension that I’ve been holding in my body. That delicious grin that weakens my knees every time, crosses his face and I know he sees me. Mr. Tatman’s arm and the rest of the sea disappear as we run at each other. I throw my arms around his neck and he bends, linking his arms under my legs and around my neck, to scoop me up against his chest. I don’t give him a chance to say a word, mashing our lips together so I can enjoy the feel of his rough sun chapped ones against my much softer ones. I don’t want to move my mouth from his, but eventually, the need to breathe pulls us apart.

  “God, I’ve missed you beautiful.” He whispers as he scans my face. I know he’s trying to memorize every detail because I’m doing the same with his. He stands me back on my feet so he can continue his scan down my body.

  “Not as much as I missed you, husband.” I whisper, fighting back another round of tears. He stops his scan to lock his eyes with mine.

  “Did you keep my ring safe, wife?”

  I pull the necklace he gave me that first Christmas out from underneath my shirt. Both of our wedding bands and my engagement ring now lay snug against the charm on the fragile chain.

  “I kept it close to my heart the whole time.”

  He reaches out to finger the four little objects that have been symbols of our love. His hands slide up my neck and circles around to the back to unhook the chain. He slides his band off the chain into his hand and then transfers it to my palm. Holding out his left hand he asks. “Will you do me the honor?”

  I slip the ring onto his finger without a word and once it’s firmly in place, I pull his hand to my mouth and kiss the band.

  “Why aren’t you wearing yours?” He asks, eyeing the necklace he’s still holding in his other palm.

  “My fingers are too swollen for them to fit right now.” I explain, releasing his hand to drop my own to my very rounded, pregnant belly. His eyes flicker down and his grin widens even more. He unhooks his dog tags and transfers my wedding rings to their chain before placing the chain back around his neck. The he returns my chain to my neck.

  “I’ll keep them close to my heart until I can put them back on your finger.” He explains at my questioning look.

  Then dropping down on his knees, he leans in to kiss and touch my rounded belly that’s holding our unborn child.

  “Thanks for staying in there long enough for daddy to make it home, little one.”

  Linc – Ten Hours Later

  “Come on, Wyn. Focus on me. Deep breathe in.” I suck in a lung full of air. Then releasing it, I tell her. “Now, let it out slowly.”

  “Shut it.” She screams, gripping my hand hard. I watch as the contractions rip through her body, causing her to shake from head to toe. The nurse gave me a cool cloth, so I use it to wipe her sweat covered brow and then place my lips to her forehead for a quick kiss.

  “You’re doing so good, baby. The nurse said it won’t be much longer. Just hold on.” I whisper against her brown hair.

  Several hours earlier, I was basking in the feel of having my wife cuddled in my arms when I felt her body tense and a cry slipped from her lips. The tension left her body after several very long minutes and she rolled to face me with her explanation. “The baby’s coming. My water broke.”

  In my line of work, you have to be able to think and act quickly in deadly situations. Gun fire, bombs, hostage situations, I’ve handled them all, but none of them rattled me as much as those words coming out of Wyn’s lips. I didn’t move; hell, I couldn’t move. My body had chosen that moment to glue itself to our cotton sheets. What do I do now, I thought.

  Wyn leaned into me and kissed me firmly on the lips, then awkwardly rolled her rounded body out of bed so she was on her swollen feet. She eyed me from her position beside the bed and when I still hadn’t moved, she chuckled. “Lincoln Tatman, get up! We got a baby to bring into this world.”

  She turned on her heels and headed out of the room mumbling. “Silly boy, I’m going to go brush my hair. There’s no way my baby’s going to see her mom with a rat’s nest in her hair.”

  I physically shook my head to clear the billions of thoughts running through it and I stormed into action. I changed out of my pajamas, threw Wyn’s overnight bag over one shoulder, the diaper bag over the other, and grabbed my car keys off the dresser. Walking into the living room, I found Wyn sitting in my recliner, her purse at her side, and her phone in her hand. Her fingers were flying across the screen, probably letting Mom, Dad, and Dani know it’s time. She hit the send button and then looked up and asked. “Are you about ready to go?”

  “Me? I have everything. The only thing holding us up is you.” I grumbled.

  She laughed and then directed her gaze to the floor and said. “Honey, you don’t even have your shoes on.” I followed her eyes down to the floor and saw that she was indeed right; I had forgotten my shoes. I dropped the bags and stomped over to the door to slip on my boots. Once they were firmly in place, I walked over to Wyn and helped her out of the chair, scooped the bags back up, and got us and our supplies into the car and on our way.

  Every time a contraction would take Wyn, my foot would push harder on the pedal, projecting us faster into the night. It was by pure luck that we didn’t get stopped by the cops before we reached the hospital.

  Now here I stand by her side as the contractions grow closer and closer together. The four drab beige walls have faded away. I can no longer smell the chemical smell that all hospitals seem to have. I’m focusing all of my energy on watching my wife and listening to the beeping sound that tells me my baby’s heart is beating steadily. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the doctor and nurses at the foot of the bed, but I ignore them so I can watch my Wyn.

  Her green eyes are lighted with the pain of the delivery and I can’t look away. Her face scrunches up each time she pushes. Her head rolls back against the pillow for a few seconds of rest. Then she pulls it back up to repeat the process all over again. All the while, I hear nothing but the steady beep, beep, beep of the machine. Wyn’s head falls back against the pillow a final time and with the last of the energy left in her strained body, she turns her face to me and smiles as our son’s first cry slices through the room.

  About the author:

  Michelle is a twenty-eight year old native Ohioan. Go Buckeyes! Who now lives with her husband and son in West Virginia. When she isn't spending time with her family, you
can find her with her nose stuck in a good book.

  To find out more information on Michelle and her upcoming projects, check out these addresses:

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/MichelleTurnerAuthor

  Blog: http://michelleturnerauthor.blogspot.com/

  Pinterest (check out the Reviving Bloom & Promised boards to see how Michelle pictures her characters): http://pinterest.com/michelle8605/

  Also by Michelle Turner:

  Reviving Bloom – Available Now

  Upcoming Projects:

  Enlightening Bloom – Coming Winter 2013

  Marley’s Story (Currently Untitled – Promised Spin Off) – Coming 2014

  Nate’s Story (Currently Untitled – Promised Spin Off) – Coming 2014