Ryan: I miss him so damn much.
Me: We watched your video today. When you come home, he’ll know who you are.
After shaving my legs, I drain the tub and get out. After getting dressed, I head downstairs to find my sister and RJ. I’m so thankful to have my family. It’s not that I couldn’t handle taking care of RJ myself, but it’s nice to have people I can count on. Family who can watch him while I take a bath or go to the doctor. People to help me feel like I’m not doing this alone while Ryan is overseas.
The second I step into the living room, RJ spots me, his face lighting up. He’s lying on the floor, smacking the keys to the toy piano he loves. As I walk closer, his arms and legs flail, excited to see me. There’s nothing in the world better than seeing the way he lights up when I walk into the room.
“Did you have a good bath?” Liza asks, looking up from her homework.
“I did. Thank you.” I pick up RJ and nuzzle my face into his neck. He giggles at my touch and my heart soars.
“A delivery came for you,” Liza says, pointing to the box on the table. I don’t need to ask who it’s from since I already know. It’s from Ryan—just like all the others.
I pick it up and RJ swats at it like it’s his piano. Not wanting to open it in front of anyone, I excuse myself to my room, thanking Liza again for keeping an eye on RJ.
Once I’m in my room, I set RJ down next to me. He continues to bat at the package as I unwrap it. When I get it open, I find the most gorgeous hand-crafted bracelet. It’s not identical to the necklace Ryan bought me when we were on Balboa Island, but it complements it perfectly. As I clasp the bracelet on my wrist, my thoughts go back to the last few times I received packages.
“Micaela, you have a package,” Mom yells up to me.
I run downstairs, thinking it’s her way of surprising me, since today is my birthday. When I get to the living room, she’s holding a small box that’s wrapped with multicolored, shiny wrapping paper with balloons all over it.
I grin, taking it from her. “What is it?” I ask, shaking the box. It’s kind of heavy.
“I don’t know,” she says. “A young man dropped it off.”
“It’s not from you?”
“Nope.”
I tear the paper off the box and open it, finding an expensive-looking camera and a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Taped to the inside of the box is a note.
Happy Birthday to my favorite baby-mama,
The big 2-1, huh? I imagine you won’t be going out since you’ll more than likely be home with our little guy. But you can’t turn 21 and not have a legal drink, so I included a bottle of Jack. It better be the only man you’re celebrating with… I also included a camera. The guy at the store said it’s the best. I know your phone takes sufficient pictures, but this one will take professional quality. While I’m gone, take tons of pictures, please. Of RJ, of you, of everything you guys do and experience. I want to feel like I was there with you. I look forward to seeing them all when I get home and adding them to my photo album.
I hope you have a wonderful birthday. Give RJ a kiss from me.
Xo Ryan
Since Ryan had already been in Afghanistan for a week, I knew he had to have planned this before he left. It was so sweet and completely unexpected. I thanked him and did as he asked, using the camera to take pictures of RJ and myself. Every few weeks, I get them printed so they’ll be ready to put into his photo album once he returns.
To say I was shocked when the next month rolled around and another box showed up at our door would be an understatement.
“Another one?” Dad asks, checking out the box I’m carrying inside. It was dropped off by the same teenage boy who dropped off the last one—according to Mom.
“I asked him if there was more, but he just smiled and walked away.”
I take the box upstairs and close my door. I don’t think there’ll be anything intimate in it, but it is Valentine’s Day, so you never know.
I open the box and sift through the pink tissue paper. When I pull out a vibrator, I nearly choke on my laughter. Next, is a framed photo of Ryan shirtless, his entire muscular upper body on display. He’s smirking in the photo, exposing his dimples. The same dimples our son has, now that he’s starting to smile.
I feel around and find a small bottle of KY warming gel and a small black box. I open the top and nestled inside is a beautiful ring. It’s shaped like an infinity symbol and has the word mom in script along the edge with a turquoise stone—which is RJ’s birthstone—in the center. I put it on, with tears pricking my eyes, and then go in search for a note, hoping there’s one since the last package included one.