“We’re only a phone call away,” Mom reminds me, pressing a kiss to my forehead first and then another one to RJ’s, who’s still blissfully gumming the starfish on my necklace, ignorant to the fact that without him ever really knowing his father, he’s more than likely lost him.
As soon as everyone reluctantly leaves, I sit on the couch with RJ. Grabbing my laptop, I pull up the video of Ryan. I should probably be checking the internet to find out the details of the attack, but it won’t do any good. It doesn’t matter what happened or why. If he’s dead, nothing will bring him back. I know that all too well.
Instead, I click on the video RJ and I have watched over a hundred times in the last four months. Ryan’s face comes onto the screen, his gruff voice getting RJ’s attention. We watch the video every night before bed. RJ doesn’t understand it, he’s too young, but because we’ve done it every day, he squeals, excited to do something he knows.
His hands slap the screen as Ryan says hello to RJ. “Hey there, little guy. This is your dad, Ryan. You don’t know it, but we have the same name.”
Ryan’s eyes water, but he takes a deep breath, refusing to let them fall. My mind goes back to that day, four months ago, when I told him he needed to make the videos. He broke down and lost it, not wanting to make them, but deep down he knew it had to be done, and this is why.
“I’m wearing this outfit because I’m in the military,” Ryan continues, plastering on a smile for his son. “I’m a combat engineer.” He laughs softly. “My job is to build and fix things.” He shrugs awkwardly. “Umm… anyway, that’s what I’m probably doing while you’re watching this. Fixing things.” He gnaws on his bottom lip, closes his eyes, then takes a deep breath and opens them. “I just want you to know how much I love you. I’ve only known you for a couple weeks, but fuc—I mean… Jesus, I suck—I mean stink at this.” He chuckles humorlessly. “I just need you to know how much I love you and your mom. You don’t know me yet, but I’ll be home soon and I plan to spend the rest of my life getting to know you. My dad—your grandpa—and I are real close. He taught me how to ski and snowboard, took me fishing, and taught me how to fight. He taught me how to play sports. He was always the coach of every team I played on.”
Ryan swallows thickly, sniffling back his emotions. “I can’t wait to do all that with you. Watch you grow up… hear you say your first word… be there when you take your first step.” He curses under his breath. “Just do me a favor and don’t do anything until I get home.” He laughs, shaking his head.
“I hope you’re being good for your mom.” He smiles a genuine smile, his dimples popping out. “Give her lots of hugs and kisses for me, okay?” He runs a hand along his shaved head. “I love you so much, RJ. And I love you, Micaela. I know you said no promises… but, I’ll see you both soon.” And with one last smile, his face disappears and the video ends.
I told him not to promise, but he still did. Not in a single letter or text, but in this video. He did. And now he’s going to break his promise. I close my eyes, needing to calm myself. My nervousness and fear is turning into anger and I don’t want RJ to see that. To feel that. He needs me to be strong. Nothing has been confirmed. There’s still hope. He could be at a different base, perfectly fine and getting ready to head home. He’s just running late. That’s all it is… But deep down, I know that’s not true. And lying to myself isn’t going to do any good.
Micaela
Four Days Later
“Sweetheart, please let me take RJ,” Mom insists. Her eyes are filled with a mixture of pity and sympathy. It’s been four days since Kayla dropped the bomb that a base was attacked in Afghanistan, and since then, nobody has heard anything. I want to believe that, since we haven’t been notified of his death, he’s still alive, but we also haven’t heard from him. So that could easily mean whatever is going on over there is bad and they just haven’t gotten around to notifying us yet.
“You need a break,” she insists. “You’ve been holed up here for the last four days with RJ. Please, let me help.”
“I’m his mom,” I snap. “I don’t need or want a break. RJ needs me.” I’m most likely the only parent he has left, I think but don’t say out loud.