“I had to fight for what little I could get. I can barely afford…” she began bitterly and then stopped herself. It wasn’t Marsha’s fault the military had tried to screw her family over. After what Marsha was sure to have gone through—evidenced by the two children playing outside—what right did she have to complain? She, at least, had been safe here with Hayley.
“Well, we will see about that…” Marsha said hotly, sounding like the army gal of old.
Heather was pleased to see the spark of anger in her wife’s eyes. They had seemed so lifeless, with only anguish visible since she had seen her in the airport. She grinned. “Let’s get you changed,” she indicated the living room where the boxes were.
“You hadn’t moved on?” Marsha was curious.
Heather picked up the box she had brought in, the heaviest of the few. “Well, I have gone on a few first dates. It felt awkward and awful all at the same time. I just didn’t feel up to it for so long. Getting out there and dating…sucks,” she finished as she led Marsha to what had been their bedroom.
The room was sparse and without Marsha’s things in it, bare. Heather hadn’t replaced anything and her own things were almost hidden in the room. She put the box on the bed and opened the top. “Looks like jeans and t-shirts in this one.”
“Feels like rocks and irons in this one,” Marsha complained good-naturedly about the box she was bringing in. She was surprised at how the bedroom looked. She glanced at the queen-size bed next to Heather.
“We’ll have to get you to the gym and bench pressing again,” Heather teased. The Marsha she had known would never have complained about the weight of a box.
“Well, that will have to wait.”
“Yeah, they probably want to interrogate you first. Didn’t they do that over in…?”
“A little, but I was so tired. Still in shock that I had managed to get away.”
Heather sat on the bed with a little plop. “Why did it take so long to get away?” Her glance went towards the kitchen and beyond where the children were playing.
“They watched me. All the time, they watched me. I could have left alone, many times.”
Heather understood. At least she thought she understood. Marsha couldn’t leave without her children.
“Let me get the others while you change,” she offered as she got up again and went to get the boxes the children had brought in the house. Because they were smaller, she stacked them up in her arms and brought them back to the bedroom. She dropped them at her feet just inside the bedroom door upon her return. The resounding crash had Marsha spinning from where she was pulling off her burqa.
“Oh, my God!” Heather exclaimed, seeing Marsha’s body for the first time emerging from under the all-enveloping burqa. “You’re pregnant!” she gasped the obvious.
“Yes, I am,” Marsha admitted, her hand automatically going to the stomach she had exposed. She stood there proudly in her practical panties and bra. Nothing sexy had been offered or given to her, just the bare minimum. She reached for the shirt she had been changing into—an overly-large t-shirt she liked. It barely fit over the enlarged stomach and it felt funny after all these years of wearing loose, free-flowing outfits.
“How far along are you?” Heather tried to recover. She was shocked by the two children playing in her back yard right now, but this….
“I don’t know,” she admitted ruefully. She reached for a pair of shorts, certain that any jeans in the boxes wouldn’t fit. Then she reconsidered as she looked down at her unshaven legs. The dark hairs were gross against her white skin. It hadn’t bothered her when she had been allowed to bathe back in the hills, but now, here in the United States, it grossed her out.
“How can you not know?”
“It’s not like they have a prenatal plan there,” she sounded bitter.
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m going to say inappropriate things for a while.”
“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s just…I guess…I’m tired. I also don’t know about things….” She looked for and found sweat pants. She tugged them on. At least they had a drawstring so she could leave the opening wide for her belly.
“What things?” Heather thought she knew, but she wanted Marsha to spell it out.
“I didn’t know about you,” she confessed. “About us.” She looked up and the pain in her eyes was real. “I didn’t know if you had moved on. I didn’t know….”
“Shhhh,” Heather said, taking her in her arms again. She felt stupid for not feeling the baby bump before under the caftan thingy. How could she not have known? Marsha was huge! The t-shirt and sweats emphasized it. “We just have to take it slow and see where it goes. I’m here. I’m so grateful you’re alive….”
“Our daughter doesn’t even know me!” she replied bitterly, the tears starting. “Damn hormones,” she griped, needing a tissue as her nose started to run too.
Heather let her go long enough to reach over to the nightstand and hand her the box. “It’s just going to take time.”
“Well, you never expected the others.” She wiped her nose after blowing it once, hard. Using the clean edge of the tissue, she wiped at the tears, then she balled it up and threw it in the waste basket next to the nightstand.
“I’ll admit the two…” her hand tentatively reached out to Marsha’s belly, “three, are a surprise, but we always wanted a big family.” She smiled, bobbing her head to get Marsha to look at her.
Marsha looked up. She could always count on Heather to see the bright side of things. “This is so much to ask of you.”
“Let’s just see how it works out. One step at a time, one day at a time. Hell, you haven’t even been home an hour!”
“I don’t know how much I can share with you,” she confessed.
“I know some of it must be classified–”
“No,” she interrupted. “Not that, of course. I mean about this and them…” her hand took in her belly and a jerk of her head took in the children they could hear out back. “We better check on them. They aren’t used to….”
“They’re fine, and Hayley is going to enjoy being the big sister. What did you mean?”
She looked back and forth between Heather’s eyes. “I don’t know how much I can tell you.”
“Well, you were never one for many words. You just got here, so let’s take it slow. Right now, how about we make some mac and cheese and see how the kids like it? It’s one of Hayley’s favorites.” It was also one of the cheapest meals she could afford.
The two of them left the boxes in the bedroom, some still unopened, as they walked into the kitchen together. Marsha, unfamiliar with where things were, watched the children out the back door. Amir and Bahir had adjusted and were running with Hayley as though they played together every day. Looking at her oldest daughter, she smiled wistfully.
Heather caught her look and glanced outside. The children were playing together easily, as children did. Only the adults saw problems where none existed.
The children all loved mac and cheese. Marsha had no worries about either of them using a spoon since they were familiar with those. She saw them watching Hayley, looking up to their newfound friend and sister. They had been shocked to see their mother in pants, even sweat pants and a t-shirt, the attire absolutely unfamiliar to them both. Hayley, older than the others, realized what the bump on her other mom’s stomach meant.
“You’re having a baby?” she asked, surprised. As if having a new brother and sister wasn’t a surprise.
“We’re having a baby,” Heather corrected immediately, prepared for the question.
Marsha looked at Heather with a grateful smile. “Yes, Hayley, we are going to have another baby soon.”
“How soon?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to find that out.”
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know. Which would you like to have?”
The little girl thought about it as her sister looked on. This was a strange con
versation to be having, and while her English wasn’t perfect, she was following it. She couldn’t recall her gradam—her other mother, Papa’s first wife—ever talking like this. She was fascinated. “I think I would like another sister, but that wouldn’t be fair to Amir.”
“Why wouldn’t it be fair to Amir?” she asked, but she smiled, thinking she knew the answer. The little girl was trying to be fair.
“Well, we have two moms,” she began and the adults nodded, encouraging her. “He’s the only boy. He should have another boy to even things out.”
“That sounds about right,” Heather agreed with a smile, “but, you know, it just might be a girl again.”
“Nope, it should be a boy,” the little girl asserted stoutly.
“Well, we will go to the doctor’s in the next few days and make sure Mom is okay,” Heather told her. “We also have to get her some clothes! She can’t wear that all the time.”
Marsha looked down at the stretched and taut t-shirt and sweats. “What’s wrong with this? Isn’t this what all the fashionable captains are wearing this time of year?”
“I’m sure the army will have something to say about that.”
“I’m sure they will have a lot to say about many things,” she agreed as she sobered at the thought. She wasn’t looking forward to the interrogations she would be going through. They had been hard on her in Kabul and she could only imagine what they would put her through here. Remembering the beatings she had taken back in the hills for speaking her mind or talking too much, she wasn’t inclined to share.
“What were you thinking just now?” Heather asked.
Marsha shook her head, unable or unwilling to share. Just then the doorbell rang and she jumped at the sound. The raucous noise was something she wasn’t used to.
“Easy there, it’s just the doorbell,” Heather tried to make it amusing as she got up to answer. “You stay there and finish your dinner,” she told Hayley, who tried to get up to see who was at the door. “You too,” she joked to Marsha. She could see the noise had unsettled her, or perhaps her thoughts had.
Marsha was surprised at how the doorbell had alarmed her. The sound had set her pulses racing. She could feel the anxiety that immediately started. She was sweating, so she took a sip of the water from her glass. She could hear Heather clearly in the small house.
“Yes?” Heather answered the door.
“I have a package for Captain Gagliano?” the crack in the visitor’s voice indicating he was either very young or had a speech impediment.
Marsha heard and pulled herself up. “Stay here,” she looked pointedly at Amir and Bahir. She waddled her way into the living room, feeling every bit of the journey it had taken to get home the past few days.
Heather heard Marsha get up from the kitchen table so she told the private at their door, “One moment.” She turned as Marsha came around the corner of the kitchen so she missed the widening of the private’s eyes, but Marsha didn’t.
“What do you have for me, Private?” she asked him as she waddled up.
“You are Captain Gagliano?” he asked, unsure.
“Yes, I am,” she assured him, feeling very ungainly.
He quickly saluted, nearly dropping his package. “I have some clothes for you, ma’am,” he sounded official and then dubious.
“Is there a problem, Private?” she asked, resuming the sound of command she had been used to so long ago as a lieutenant.
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am. The clothes were issued based on your previous size,” he answered with an almost audible gulp, realizing he was being forward and possibly insubordinate.
Marsha nearly laughed. Instead, she fixed her face so as not to betray anything as she ordered, “Then I suggest that accommodations be made to alleviate this problem, don’t you think, Private?”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting again. “I’ll leave your insignia and be back with the proper clothing.”
“That would be fine,” she told him.
He quickly rummaged in the parcel and handed her a small box. Saluting once more, he turned and marched quickly away. Heather closed the door, amused. “You missed doing that, didn’t you?” she teased.
“Doing what?” Marsha asked, trying to sound innocent as she opened the box to reveal her captain’s bars.
“My, don’t those look pretty,” Heather said, rubbing Marsha’s arm.
“Yeah,” she answered almost reverently. “And about time, eh?” She looked at Heather. They had both wanted this way back when, or at least she had told herself they both wanted it. She knew she wanted it. Heather had wanted her home.
“Let’s finish dinner,” Heather suggested.
* * * * *
Bedtime was awkward as the children needed baths. Heather solved the problem by letting the children bathe together. Already fast friends, they played and made such a mess that they were reluctant to get out. Heather could see they were all tired out by the full day. She found that old t-shirts of Marsha’s fit like dresses on the children and included Hayley in the odd outfits.
“How are we going to arrange the sleeping?” Marsha asked as she finished up washing the dishes. She felt it was only fair since her wife had cooked.
Heather at first misunderstood, thinking that Marsha was talking about them. Then, realizing she meant the children, she answered, “Let them all sleep in Hayley’s room tonight. We will have to see about getting more beds.”
Marsha realized her mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth and she saw Heather’s reaction. She nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.” She decided to ignore the awkward tension she felt building between her and her wife.
The children were soon in Hayley’s room with extra blankets and Heather even managed to make a tent fort with Marsha’s assistance so that as the children camped out on the floor together, they could sleep. She read them a story with Marsha looking on.
This was some of what she had dreamed to come home to so long ago. She hadn’t wanted to take that extra tour, but with Captain’s pay she could retire with the benefits they would need to raise their daughter and she could get a job. She hadn’t planned for any of this to happen. She had been on her way home to them. She looked at the other two children and her hand cupped her big belly. She didn’t regret them. She just hadn’t planned on them.
Just as the children were falling to sleep, the doorbell rang again. Heather looked up sharply to see Marsha flinch and then clutch at her chest. “Are you okay?”
Marsha nodded as she turned from where she had been leaning in the doorway, admiring what was so obviously a little girl’s room devoted to their daughter. The pink ponies on the wall made her wonder what cartoons and shows children watched nowadays. The heart pounding hit her again and she clutched at her chest as she turned to head for the front door.
“Who’s here, Mommy?” Hayley asked, sleepily. She was enjoying the story and had just dozed off.
“Shhhh, or do you want me to stop reading?”
“No, more,” she protested.
“More,” Amir parroted, showing he wasn’t quite as asleep as Bahir, who didn’t answer.
“Yes?” Marsha said as she opened the door. She saw it was the private back again.
“Ma’am, I have your clothing,” he said respectfully as he attempted to salute her.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “You think you have the right sizes now?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he assured her.
“How do you know?” She was curious.
“My sister was pregnant and I guessed,” he blushingly told her as he held out the stack of neatly folded clothes.
“Let’s see what you have here,” she ignored his blush and the comment about his sister as she unfolded the uniform. The shirt was enormous and she knew it had to be in a men’s size. It would probably cover her quite well, like a tent. “What else you got?” she asked, looking at the pants. They too were enormous, but she was certain with a pin or two she could ma
ke them fit. “Thank you, Private. These will do nicely.”
“I’m to escort you tomorrow, ma’am,” he informed her, again blushing.
“Escort me?” she asked, concerned.
“To Major Osborn’s office,” he stated, his eyebrows beetling as though she should know.
“Oh, yes,” she answered. “What time?”
“Ten okay with you, ma’am?”
“Ten is fine,” she answered. “Good night, Private,” she told him as she closed the door, taking the clothes with her to the bedroom.
Heather found her holding the oversized clothing up to her body. “What is that?” she asked, trying not to laugh.
“Apparently, this is what I’m wearing tomorrow,” she answered dryly. She could see the humor in it, but she wasn’t feeling very humorous at the moment. She was tired, very tired, and wanted a bath desperately. A shower would have to do, but she wanted to soak in a hot tub. She knew that was bad for a pregnant woman, but she craved that to-the-bone heat. Sighing, she hung up the slacks and shirt.
“Do you want me to iron those?”
“Oh, would you?” she answered gratefully.
“Sure,” she reached to pull them off the hanger Marsha had just put them on.
“You don’t have to do it tonight,” she protested.
Heather shrugged as she continued carrying the clothes out of the bedroom, taking them to the kitchen. Marsha shrugged and went into the bathroom to shower.
CHAPTER TEN
“Moray is only going away for a little while. Mommy will be here to watch you,” Marsha explained for the third time. Leaving the little ones was going to be hard and they were frightened since they didn’t even have Hayley, who’d gone back to school today.
“Don’t go,” Bahir whined in Tajik.
“Baby,” she used the same language, “Moray has to go, it’s her duty. You wouldn’t want me to get into trouble, would you?”
The little girl understood that. She glanced at Heather who was watching them. She wasn’t sure she liked this other woman that her moray was calling Mommy.
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