“Come on, let’s blow Daddy one more kiss before we go.” They all raised their hands to their mouths and blew kisses. She had no idea if he’d even seen them, but he’d know. He always knew.
She put the kids in the back seat of the truck and buckled them into their car seats. Denali was standing with his paws on the tailgate. She lifted the chubby fellow and stuck him on the floorboard under the kids’ feet.
As she closed the rear door, she saw one of the gals from the women’s group heading toward her.
She didn’t have that much strength right now. A pedicure or a game of bunco wouldn’t change that Jack was gone and would be for quite some time. Although she’d been one of them in the past—the wives supporting those who had husbands away—and she knew firsthand their intentions were honorable, she just couldn’t do it today.
Amanda hopped into the front seat and cranked the truck, pretending she hadn’t seen the woman. She drove off with a slight pang of guilt, mostly because she lived in base housing too. They were neighbors. No way would she be able to avoid these ladies for long. They were determined to help one another, and that was a blessing. Amanda realized that. But right now she was sad, and she wasn’t ready to let go of that yet. She needed to muster every smile she could to put on a brave and happy face for her children. That was her priority.
Rain fell, and from the looks of the sky, it was settling in for a while.
She stopped at the drive-through to pick up hot dogs for lunch and then drove home. Thankfully, Hailey and Jesse seemed exhausted by the morning’s events too. Jesse was already asleep in his car seat. When they got home, Amanda woke them up to get them inside. They ate hot dogs and then all climbed into her king-size bed, even Denali, and watched cartoon reruns.
She hugged Jack’s pillow to her heart, hoping the scent of his aftershave wouldn’t fade anytime soon. Once Hailey and Jesse fell asleep, she cried quiet tears. She missed Jack already, and he probably hadn’t even made it out of the state yet.
2
Two years later
Whelk’s Island, North Carolina
Our character is often most evident in our highs and lows. Be humble at the mountaintops, be strong in the valleys, and be faithful in between.
—Marc Chernoff, Getting Back to Happy
Becoming a single parent had never been the plan. Sure, Amanda was aware that marrying a Marine carried a certain amount of risk and sacrifice, but their love was big and true. She’d worried more about how much she’d miss him while deployed than the remote chance he might not come home. Those teensy percentages happen to someone, though, and it had happened to Jack. And her.
Still, after all this time following Jack’s death, more than two years now, there were mornings Amanda woke up with her arm flung over the other pillow, reaching for him. Each time, reality tore at her tender heart. She remembered the way his morning stubble prickled her fingertips, and the curve of his smile when her touch accidentally awakened him. She clenched her fingers into a fist. Please don’t let that memory ever fade.
Everyone said time would make the loss more bearable.
If she’d had a twenty-dollar bill for every time someone told her that, she’d be a rich woman. She’d lay odds that whoever started that rumor had never lost a husband.
The first year, she’d been on autopilot; friends and family had leaned in whenever she faltered. The second year, as she came out of the fog, that support system had faded away. Time had healed them, so they’d moved on, leaving her to find her own way.
That’s when reality settled in and every part of her life had a gaping hole that Jack had once filled. No one had warned her the second year was even worse. It would have been nice to know in advance.
The third year would be better than the last. She’d promised herself that. So this morning she lay there summoning the strength to get started.
As usual, Jack’s voice filled her mind. “You can do this. You’re a strong woman. Stronger than you know.”
He’d convinced her of that, until he was no longer there. He’d been her strength all along.
She never remembered it being this hot in early July before. Amanda took in a deep lungful of the humid Whelk’s Island air. Loneliness hung from her like a wet sweater—oddly heavy and cold—in the middle of summer.
If she could turn over and never wake up again, it would be fine by her.
That’s not an option.
Two tiny hearts depended on her: Hailey and Jesse. Three if she counted Denali, and he needed her too.
She pulled the covers back and sat up. Stretching her arms to the ceiling, she looked around her bedroom. The real estate agent had called this house a cottage, but that made it sound more glamourous than it was. Bungalow was probably more fitting.
There was an advantage to the place being in poor condition. Price, for one, but it also gave her the freedom to go a little wild with decor and paint colors. Years of sand had ruined the hardwood floors, so she let the kids help her whitewash them. They’d even written messages of hope and love and dreams across the thirsty boards before painting them. It would forever be their family secret. The project made the house feel more like home.
Despite the fact there were still boxes stacked in the corner of her room even after having lived here over two months now, she and the kids were finally getting into a good routine.
It was liberating to have no history in this town. Gone
