1 | REVEILLE
I was calm during the four-hour flight but the moment the plane touched down at the Monterey Airport that drizzly Thursday night, my insides immediately turned to mush.
I’d flown to California many times before, but this time, Henry had no clue I was coming. I had managed to get some time off work to spend the last three of his eighteen days of therapy with him, and was planning to surprise him tonight.
My stomach trembled at the thought of showing up unannounced. A voice niggled at the back of my mind, wondering if Henry would be happy to see me. I didn’t even know which version I would be faced with: the one that left for Afghanistan or the one who came back.
As I made my way off the plane, I gave myself a pep talk. It didn’t matter which version of Henry greeted me tonight. I loved him regardless.
All of my jitters disappeared when I saw my dad at baggage claim, looking a little rounder around the middle, but still the same man with hazel eyes and light brown hair. He was standing against the wall, his back straight, his arms folded across his chest looking very much like he’s about to start handing out orders.
His rigid demeanor melted the moment he saw me.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, greeting him with a hug and kiss on the cheek.
“Sweetheart,” he said, gathering me in his arms for a bear hug. “It’s good to see you.”
I pulled away and looked around. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s at home, making sure the entire house is clean and that your room is just as you remembered it,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.
I laughed. “You mean you haven’t turned it into a workout room or something? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when your kids move out?”
“I’ve been trying to turn it into a man cave, but she won’t let me,” Dad said. “She wants to keep it as is until you have children of your own, then she’s planning on turning it into a kid’s room.”
“That’s…”
“Crazy?” he asked with a shake of the head. The smile melted off his face and he turned to me with a sort of panicked expression. “She doesn’t know something that I don’t, right? You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” I said with a snort.
He sighed in relief, wiping imaginary sweat off his forehead. “Okay then. Let’s go get your luggage, my sweet girl.”
My dad was an AWACS pilot in the Air Force and, when he was still a major, he had taken a fifteen-month-long program at the Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey, California. He and Mom had liked the area so much that they’d decided to live there after he separated from the military four years later. They had taken their savings and bought a house in Monterey, not far from the famed 17-Mile Drive. The blue two-story Craftsman house was only five minutes from the beach, but most importantly, was a mere three houses down from the Logans .
After the ten-minute drive from the airport, I found myself standing in front of the house, fighting against the overwhelming sense of nostalgia and sadness. How could I look at that house and not see Jason and me sitting on the porch steps or playing basketball in the driveway?
Dad must have noticed because he squeezed my shoulder as he walked past, with my luggage rolling behind him. “Take your time,” he said.
If I stood out there too long, I ran the risk of Henry seeing me, so I sucked it up and went inside.
“Elsie!” my mother called from somewhere within the house. A few minutes later, she rounded the corner from the kitchen with a huge smile on her face. She wrapped me in her embrace and I closed my eyes, just enjoying her Mom scent of lavender and vanilla.
We followed my dad as he placed my luggage in my room. I was perfectly capable of taking it there myself—it was, after all, right off the living room on the first floor—but the golden rule was that guests did absolutely no work. I guess that meant I was a
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