Bond of Love (Letters From Home Series Book 3)

by Maryann Jordan

  “You thinkin’ of James?” he asked, turning to look at me as I cursed once more at the pothole we hit.

  “Yeah, it’s hard not to. He was out on something just like this when he ran over the IED. ’Course he was not in a convoy, so I guess we’re lucky.”

  “I noticed you’re staying right behind the truck in front of us.”

  “Fuck yeah!” I cursed again.

  Coming to the fork in the road where we would leave the convoy, we drove a few more clicks toward the mountainous region before coming to the overturned Humvee. Analyzing the turn-around space and the angle of the downed vehicle, I decided on a course of action. “Doesn’t look too bad,” I said, glad that the job shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.

  We climbed out of the wrecker and walked over to assess the damage. “Looks like the back of the Humvee took the hit,” Jacob said as he made his way around.

  “Engine looks okay,” I surmised before we discussed the best way to get it upright. Going back, I climbed into the cab and maneuvered the wrecker in place. I lowered the stabilizer jacks on each side for recovery and craning operations.

  The armored cab of our wrecker provided me protection against small arms fire, artillery shell splinters, and mine blasts, but Jacob had no such protection outside…just like James. We efficiently attached the wench’s twin lines to the upper side and quickly re-entered the wrecker. It did not take long to right the Humvee. Grateful all lifting operations could be controlled from inside our vehicle, we worked efficiently together. Hooking up to tow took a bit longer than I would have liked, and I observed Jacob stepping carefully when moving away from the vehicle.

  Loaded and ready to head back, I carefully turned the wrecker around, attempting to stay on the road as much as possible. Fuck this fear! Having been on wrecker detail before, I was accustomed to seeing vehicles blown up by IEDs, but it was a job…not personal. Now all I could think of was James and how his life ended. I heard Jacob sigh and I knew he was thinking the same thing. Driving back to base, thoughts of James continued to filter through my mind. And thinking of James made me think of Alicia.

  As soon as we were close enough to have the base in sight, I let out a long breath as Jacob joked about us being just in time for supper. Pulling into the base’s motor pool, we unhooked the Humvee, leaving it for salvaging another day.

  “I’m hitting the showers before dinner,” I called out to Jacob.

  Waving, he grinned and said, “I’m starving. I’m going to DFAC first and hopefully they’ll still have some good desserts left.”

  Smiling, I agreed but my thoughts ran to wishing I had more of Alicia’s chocolate chip cookies…and another letter.

  Stepping into the tent a few nights later, I found some of the squad playing poker. As soon as their eyes landed on me, the competitive game was abandoned. I was carrying another package from the mailroom. The top was open and the grin on my face gave evidence as to what lay inside.

  “Hell, yeah!” Roger shouted, first out of his chair. Rushing over, he looked at me with basset-hound eyes, begging, “Please tell me those are from James’ sister.”

  The others soon surrounded me, their greedy hands out as we divided up the goodies. His mouth full of cookie, Jacob asked, “Why’s she sending you stuff?” Swallowing, he added quickly, “Not that I’m complaining!”

  Shrugging, I said, “I guess she just wants to keep feeding her brother’s friends.” Unwilling to add that she had included another letter to me, I let them simply appreciate the treats.

  As they finished eating and went back to their game, I slipped outside to re-read her letter. I had just written her one in return but had not mailed it yet, wondering what I could offer. My heart ached reading her words again.

  Dear Benjamin,

  I’m afraid you will think of me as a stalker if I keep sending cookies, but baking James’ favorites makes me feel better and I certainly don’t need to eat them all. So, if I bake to feel less sad, then I’ll send them to you to enjoy.

  I dreamed of James last night, only it wasn’t the usual dream of when we were kids. He was in his uniform and driving a truck. I have no idea why I saw him that way because in real life, I never saw him at his work with the Army. I still think of him first thing when I wake up and he is the last thing I think of when I go to sleep at night. I suppose that is why he is in my dreams. Does it sound weird to say that I don’t mind these dreams? It’s like I want any part of him…even if it is just in my imagination.

  I promised myself I would keep this short, so I’ll say goodbye. Enjoy the cookies.

  Yours truly,

  Alicia

  Heaving a sigh, I thought of Alicia’s sadness and wished I could make her happier. I knew then, I would mail the letter the next morning. If all I had to offer were words about her brother to give her comfort, then that was what I’d do. God knows, her letters were giving me peace.

  Chapter 4

  (June – Alicia)

  He must think I’m desperate…or a stalker…or a complete bimbo! Thoughts about Benjamin Fowler filled my mind as I wandered up and down the aisle of the grocery store. I’d been invited to a dinner party by Roberta, one of the nurses on my shift, and I’d promised to bring something, but nothing on the shelves was calling to me. I didn’t feel like cooking, so I wandered to the bakery counter. Standing there staring at cookies, pies, and cakes only made me think of James. Nope…not what I want.

  Finally, abandoning all pretenses of coming up with something original, I headed over to the deli section and bought a cheese ball. Placing it into my basket I tried to ignore how boring it was. I need crackers to go with this. Walking back through the whole store, I found crackers on the cookie aisle. Passing the chocolate chip cookies had me thinking about James again and wishing his friend had written.

  Sighing, I pushed my almost empty cart down the frozen food aisle. Ice cream…the perfect I’m-in-a-bad-sad-terrible-mood food. Tossing the butter pecan and chocolate mint ice cream into the cart with the cheese ball and crackers, I made my way to the checkout counter.

  Paying for my meager purchases, I drove home trying to decide what to wear. Grabbing the mail on my way inside, I made sure to put the cheese into the refrigerator and the ice cream into the freezer before turning back to the mail. Seeing the handwriting on the first envelope, I tossed the rest of the mail down as I mentally fist pumped.

  Ripping the letter open once I settled onto the sofa and leaned back, I began to read.

  Dear Alicia,

  Thank you for the cookies! It was such a surprise to get the package – I was sure the mail worker had made a mistake. I understand your desire to know more about James and I am honored you chose me to fill you in. I’ve never done anything like this, so I’ll try to do justice to your request.

  James was a smart mechanic. We met in boot camp and bonded when we discovered we were both going for the same MOS. I’d worked on cars before the Army and figured I knew everything but it didn’t take long to find out I had a lot to learn. Sometimes I’d get frustrated and it was James that would laugh and make me realize that there was no shame in needing to learn something new.

  We ended up in the same squad and became really good friends. He could take apart an engine faster than anyone I knew and would offer to help the rest of us if we needed it. That was another thing about James, but you probably already knew this – he was always willing to help others. Truly selfless and a really good friend.

  One thing he hated to do was dismantle a vehicle. That’s kind of different, because some of the mechanics like doing that, but not James. I think maybe it was because he just hated to see any vehicle end up un-fixable. He was that way with people as well. If someone was down, he’d manage to joke them into laughing again.

  I didn’t mean to make you feel weird when I told you that he would read your letters. But James knew that your letters were a bit of home that we all missed. Like I said, for me, it was a chance to enjoy hearing about his fami
ly since I don’t have any. He worried about you. He was so proud of you being a nurse, but he worried all the time. He thought you worked too hard and that your shifts in the ER were too long. I’d remind him that we worked long shifts too, but he’d throw his hand out dismissively. He always had your back!

  He worried about who you dated also. He always said it would take someone special to deserve you. I’d have to say he was right. Anyway, I hope some of this helps you as you are dealing with the loss. I miss him, but am really glad we were able to connect through our good memories. Please take care of yourself. I guess with him gone, I feel responsible for worrying about you now.

  Again, thanks for the care package!

  Ben

  As I finished the letter, the muscles in my face felt odd, and then I realized I was smiling. When was the last time I smiled? Really smiled? I knew the answer and it was before James was killed. I re-read the letter again, not wanting to miss any words. I noticed he addressed me as Alicia and signed the missive as Ben. I liked that—less formal, more like friends.

  I lay on the sofa, thoughts of James in the Army now floating through my mind based on Ben’s words, and the pain seemed less sharp. Tiger jumped up on my lap and with a few circles curled up, her purrs matching my mood. I lost track of time until my phone beeped an incoming message and I jumped up to see one of the other nurses asking what I was bringing to the party.

  Rushing through the house, I showered quickly and threw on a sundress with a matching Bolero jacket. With makeup hastily applied while blowing my hair dry, I was ready in record time. Grabbing the cheese and crackers, I headed back out.

  Two hours later, I was ready to go back home. Dr. Ted Simmons managed to snag the seat next to me and on the other side was one of the new doctors. Both single, both interested, both obnoxious. While I sat in a verbal-bragging-tug-of-war between them, one of my nursing friends kept laughing as I rolled my eyes numerous times. As soon as the dessert was served, I jumped up offering to help with the cleanup. An escape to the bathroom provided another reprieve, until I was once more cornered by Dr. Simmons, who appeared unable to discern the difference between polite conversation and interest.

  Just as I was attempting to move away, he said, “I never got a chance to say I was really sorry to hear about your brother’s death. I guess with him in the military, you were prepared for it to happen.”

  Turning slowly, I stared dumbfounded at him. “What?” I asked on a breath.

  “You know? If you’re going to join the military, you pretty much know you’ve got a good chance of getting killed, so I just figured you were prepared as well.”

  Stunned, I felt the white hot blast of anger hit me as my chest heaved in indignation. “No,” I choked, “While I was always proud of his service, I did not expect him to die and to imply otherwise is just rude and presumptuous!” Turning on my heels, I stalked away, attempting to get as far away from him as possible while I blinked back tears.

  Not wanting to be the first to leave, I was grateful that another couple was making their farewells to the host. I jumped at the chance to say goodbye as well. Once in my car driving home, I breathed easier. Why is it so hard to meet a good man?

  The thought of Ben ran through my mind…a good man. He doesn’t know me and yet has taken time to reach out to me, for no other purpose than to make me feel better. I suddenly wanted to know what he looked like—I wanted a face to go with the friend he was becoming. Remembering James’ footlocker had been delivered to mom and dad, I determined to visit tomorrow.

  With that thought, I put the disastrous dinner party out of my mind and smiled once more, for the second time that day.

  “Mom? Dad?” I called out, entering their front door.

  “In the back, Alicia!” mom yelled from the kitchen.

  I walked in and saw her putting away groceries. She turned and smiled, offering a tight hug. I heard the lawn mower and glanced through the window, seeing dad walking along, pushing the mower in front of him.

  “You guys are busy today,” I commented, bending down to help mom with the groceries.

  “Well, I was out of a lot of things, so I decided to get the grocery shopping done early and your dad wanted to mow before it got too hot.” Smiling at me, she asked, “Do you want to stay for lunch? It won’t be much…I just don’t seem to have the desire to cook anymore.”

  “Sure, I’d love to.” I helped her put the groceries away and soon we started fixing sandwiches. I noticed mom had lost weight, her cheeks gaunt, but then I realized I had too. Glancing back at dad as he cut off the lawn mower, I noticed the lines on his face deeper and his hair a little whiter. Grief had taken its toll on all of us.

  “Mom, where is James’ footlocker? The one that the Army sent back?”

  She looked over her shoulder and said, “It’s up in his old room. Your dad just put it there. We went through it but haven’t done anything with any of the contents yet.” Her voice shook, but she cleared her throat and continued, “I’ll do it when I feel it is the right time. But you’re welcome to go through it, sweetie.”

  Jogging up the stairs, I opened James’ old room, finding it much the same as when he left home. Mom had changed his bedspread to one more resembling guest room linens, but it still felt like James was there. Seeing the footlocker at the foot of the bed, I kneeled in front of it and opened the lid. Determined not to cry, I quickly shuffled through his clothes and few personal items, finally finding a few pictures near the bottom. They were of us. Oh, damn. I had thought he would have pictures of his Army buddies but I realized that the pictures he had in Afghanistan were of his family. Rubbing my fingers over the image of his smiling face standing next to mine, I sighed. Hearing mom call me for lunch, I replaced the photograph and closed the lid.

  Jogging downstairs, I entered the kitchen just as dad walked in through the back door, wiping the sweat from his brow. As his eyes landed on me, his face broke into a huge smile as he enveloped me in a huge bear hug. With his arms around me, I closed my eyes and for a second felt James’ arms around me as well.

  Dad set me back, still holding onto my hands and asked, “How you doin’ baby girl?”

  “I’m hanging in there, dad, just like you two.”

  He pulled me in again and kissed my forehead before walking over to kiss mom. I watched their shared gaze, one of love and understanding. Oh, how I want that for myself…maybe one day.

  As dad got a glass of water, I sat down on one of the kitchen bar stools. “Mom, dad…I wanted you to know that I’ve been corresponding with one of James’ Army buddies.” I watched as they both turned, giving me their full attention. “He wrote condolences to me and we’ve written back and forth some. I asked him for some tales of James.” Giving a little shrug, I added, “I just wanted to know more about James from the past year.”

  Mom blinked back tears as she gushed, “Oh, Alicia, I think that’s wonderful.”

  Smiling through my own stinging eyes, I nodded. “It’s been nice to hear about James from someone who worked and lived with him in the Army.” Sucking in a deep breath, I won the battle against the tears and added, “I’ve also sent him some cookies since I know James shared with his squad.”

  “Well, let me know the next time you send something and I’ll bake some too.”

  “I’ll be sending him a box next week, so if you get them to me, I’ll include them.”

  The three of us sat down to our simple lunch, enjoying each other’s company, while secretly wishing James was with us. Four had become three and I wondered if I would ever get used to the change.

  I had just gotten on shift at the hospital when the call of an incoming ambulance came in. There were multiple victims and we hurried to be prepared. As the first one unloaded, a small girl was immediately taken back. I stood ready for the next ambulance and as the victim was unloaded, I visibly startled. The young man with dark hair, appearing to be about my age, looked so similar to James. His body had been crushed and partially burned.
As the nurses and doctors rushed him back, I moved on wooden legs, my vision blurred with images of James lying there.

  We worked non-stop to save him, my training kicking in so I was able to perform my nursing duties on auto-pilot. But our efforts were to no avail and within an hour he died. While the others in the room respectively went about their duties, I stood rooted to the floor, unable to take my eyes off him. I felt a touch on my hand and numbly looked over. Roberta, her eyes full of understanding, said, “Alicia, you need to leave. There’s nothing you can do for him now.”

  Swallowing deeply, I nodded but said, “I just need a moment.”

  She stepped back away from me as I walked over to the bed. Looking down, I knew the young man was at peace and in no more pain. I reached out and gently touched his hair, so similar to James’, smoothing it back from his face. Closing my eyes, I felt a tear slide unbidden down my cheek, as pain slashed through my heart once more. After I had said a silent prayer for the family that would soon be immersed in the familiar pang of grief, I dashed away my tears and walked back over to the waiting arms of my friend.

  “I’m so sorry,” Roberta said. “You need to take a break. Get out of here for a bit. Come back when you’re ready.”

  Nodding, I walked out of the ER, no real destination in mind. A few minutes later I found myself standing at the doors to the hospital chapel. Slipping inside the dim interior, I was grateful no one else was present.

  Sliding into a pew, I closed my eyes and simply sat for a long time. I was learning that grief can seem to abate and then come roaring back at any moment. I hadn’t cried for James in a few weeks, but now the tears flowed freely. For the family of the young man whose life just ended…for our loss of James…and for Ben. I thought of his last letter where he talked about his friendship with James. He’s grieving too. As much as I hated the thought of anyone else hurting, I found comfort in knowing Ben and I shared a similar emotion.