Coming Home

  “What time will you be here on Saturday?” Catherine asked.

  “Probably around four or five? Depends on if they’re running things on time over there,” she said, pulling out of her parking space. It had become an unspoken tradition that after visiting Danny on her Saturdays, Leah would stop off at Catherine’s on the way home and have dinner with her.

  “Okay. How does eggplant rollantini sound for dinner?”

  “Delicious,” she said, “but you know you don’t have to cook for me.”

  “Leah, old Italian ladies live to feed people. Don’t take that away from me.”

  She laughed as she merged onto the highway. “Okay, you win.”

  “Alright sweetheart. I don’t want you to get a ticket for being on the phone with me while you’re driving. Thank you for checking in, and I’ll see you Saturday.”

  “Okay. Call me before then if you drop below a five.”

  “I will. Bye now.”

  “Bye,” Leah said before she cleared the screen, tossing the phone onto her passenger seat.

  And then she reached to turn the radio off, allowing the silence to fill the car.

  For whatever reason she just felt like thinking today.

  She spent so much of her time avoiding it; her life had become heavily rooted in routine over the last few months, and she rarely allowed herself a reprieve from that. Consistency was comforting these days; she needed it like she needed air.

  But even the routines that she took solace in were carried out with an air of detachment. It was like when she used to run on the treadmill for conditioning during field hockey season; whenever Leah would look down at the display and realize she still had a ways to go, she would try to separate her mind from her body, pretending it wasn’t her feeling the pain in her legs, the ache in her side, the burning in her throat. And that’s what most of her days were like now: disengaging herself from really feeling anything until the clock on the display ticked down to zero.

  Until he was next to her again.

  One thing she had going for her was her profession. There was no way she could mope or succumb to any kind of sadness when she had one hundred different personalities in and out of her room all day, with a hundred different questions and a hundred different needs. She had always loved her job, but now she let teaching absolutely consume her. She had to.

  Robyn and Holly had been wonderful, of course. Always finding a way to check in or include her, always acting like everything was normal around her, just like she’d asked them to.

  But despite all that, Leah knew she was just going through the motions. That every smile and every laugh came with some level of fraudulence. There were little blips of happiness for her, but she knew she wouldn’t feel wholly content with anything in her life until he was home.

  And every night, without fail, she cried.

  It wasn’t even a conscious thing anymore, and she barely felt anything when she did. Like everything else, it had just become routine for her, like breathing or blinking. She would lie in bed, and as if on cue, the tears would come, trickling down her cheeks without warning, without permission, without feeling, as if she were literally leaking the sadness away.

  The sound of her phone ringing on the passenger seat pulled her from her thoughts, and she sighed in relief, deciding she’d had enough thinking for one day. Leah reached to turn the radio back on before she swiped her phone off the passenger seat and brought it to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “What the hell did you do to your car this time?”

  Leah smiled. “Hey, Jake. And I didn’t do anything, I swear. It just started doing it on its own.”

  “Well, I’m in your neck of the woods. You want me to swing by and check it out?”

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’m not home right now, but I’ll be there in like ten minutes.”

  “Alright. Is it doing it right now?”

  “Not really. It only does it at high speeds. It’s like this wobbly-shake thing.”

  “Wobbly-shake,” he repeated. “Thanks. Your technical terminology will make this much easier for me to figure out.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  He laughed loudly before he said, “See you in a few.”

  “Bye,” Leah said with a laugh before she ended the call.

  By the time she pulled into her development, Jake was parked in the space next to hers, leaning against his bumper with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Hey,” Leah said as she got out of the car, and he walked over to her, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Alright, let’s take it for a spin and see what the hell is going on.”

  “Okay,” she said, handing him her keys before she walked around to the passenger door.

  Jake started the car and pulled out of the parking space, immediately accelerating through the lot, and her eyes grew wide as she grabbed the handle on the door.

  “Jake! Jesus!”

  “What?” he said innocently. “You said at high speeds.”

  “Yeah, when you’re legally permitted to drive at high speeds!” she scolded, and he laughed just as the car began to shimmy.

  “See? That!” she said pointing to the dashboard. “Feel the wobbly-shake?”

  “I do,” he said, “although we usually refer to that as having unbalanced tires.”

  “I like wobbly-shake better. Can you fix it?”

  “Yeah,” he said, slowing down as he made the turn to bring them back to Leah’s. “But not here. You gotta bring it down to the shop. And sooner rather than later. You really shouldn’t be driving around like this.”

  “Okay. When do you have openings this week?”

  Jake blew a raspberry with his lips. “Are you kidding me? Bring it down whenever you want. We’ll take care of you.”

  “Thanks,” she said softly as he pulled into her parking space and cut the engine.

  “So…” His expression turned serious as he shifted to face her. “How are you doing?”

  Leah shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  Jake nodded, looking out the windshield. “And no one’s been bothering you?”

  She smiled slowly. “Very smooth, Jake. Like greased ice.”

  He turned to look at her. “Greased ice?” he asked, fighting a smile.

  Leah lifted one shoulder, laughing to herself.

  “Seriously, though. Has he been around? Has he called?”

  “No, he hasn’t,” she said. “And I told you I’d let you know if he did.”

  Jake nodded. “I know…I just…”

  “No, I get it,” she said. “Danny asked you to check in.”

  “Asked?” he said with his brow lifted. “No, Danny didn’t ask. He mandated. Even back in the beginning, when he was being a complete douche-nozzle.” He shook his head before his expression turned serious again. “I promised him I’d look out for you, Leah.”

  She swallowed, dropping her eyes to her lap. “I know,” she said softly. “Sorry for giving you shit.”

  “I like when you give me shit,” he said, reaching over and tugging lightly on the end of her hair. “It means the fire in you ain’t out yet.”

  Leah smiled. “Isn’t.”

  “Huh?”

  “The fire in me isn’t out yet.”

  “Yeah, okay. Save it for the classroom, toots.”

  Leah laughed, and he winked at her before he opened the door and got out of the car. She met him around the front, reaching to take the keys he offered her. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Call me if you need anything, and bring this down to us as soon as you can,” he said, patting the hood.

  “I will,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks, Jake.”

  Leah stood there and watched Jake get into his car, waving to him as he pulled out of the parking space before she turned toward her mailbox. As soon as she opened the little door, it felt like her stomach turned inside out. She reached in and pulled out the stack of envelopes, completely disregarding the
bills and credit card offers as she shuffled his envelope, the one she’d recognize anywhere, to the top.

  Leah jogged up the path to her apartment, fumbling with her keys as she unlocked the door, trying to ignore the little ember of anxiety hidden just behind her eagerness. As soon as she was inside, she tossed the other envelopes on the table, sending a few skidding off the other side and onto the floor as she continued into the living room, opening his letter as she went.

  Despite the fact that Danny had access to e-mail, he had told her early on that he preferred handwritten letters. Even though e-mail was much faster, he was only allowed to access the system once a day, whereas a letter was something he could keep with him, something he could read whenever he wanted, as many times as he wanted. In one of his letters to Leah, he had told her he’d reread his favorites so many times, he could practically recite them from memory.

  She plopped onto the couch and unfolded the paper, smiling as she saw his familiar angled handwriting.

  Leah,

  It’s two in the morning, and you’re all I can think about. I wish I could talk to you right now, because I have so much to say, and I’d really rather do it in person, but I know I won’t be able to wait until next week.

  Me and Troy were talking today, and he told me what happened with him and his girl. Apparently after his fifth month here, she started missing visitation days left and right, claiming that the drive was too far and that she didn’t have the gas money to come every week. But then a few weeks after that, she started missing his calls too. She’d say she got held up at work, or stuck in traffic, or was helping a friend and couldn’t get to her phone. Troy said he wanted to believe her in the beginning, but I guess over the last sixth months, it’s only gotten worse. He said every now and then he’ll write to her and if he’s lucky, she’ll respond or he’ll get her on the phone. But she’s basically washed her hands of him. And I’m listening to this guy spill his guts, feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the planet, because all I could think about the entire time was how lucky I am. Because she gave up on him, and you never even entertained the idea of giving up on me. Not in the beginning, when my behavior was unpredictable and asinine, not when you found out I was going away, and not even when I was stupid enough to push you away myself. You always fought for me—for us. Always.

  I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but no one looking at you would ever know that. You come here week after week with that beautiful smile on your face, walking through security and having your bag searched, sitting through chaperoned visits like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You’ve taken a miserable situation, and you’ve managed to make it bearable somehow, for both of us.

  Even in the beginning, when we were struggling to get it right, you never let me doubt anything. Not us, not your feelings for me, not myself. It used to be so hard for me, watching you walk away after a visit and coming back to this. All I’d want was to be with you again, to see you and hear your voice, and then I’d spend the rest of the day wondering if you were missing me as much as I missed you—if you were hurting as much as I was. And I’d hate myself, because it was me who put us in this situation. It’s so easy to get caught up like that in here, to spiral down into the bullshit. But anytime I’d come close to sinking, I’d get your letters, or your pictures, or the books you’d send with the little notes you hide inside for me, and every doubt, every fear, would be gone.

  I know it’s not enough to say this, but thank you. Thank you for agreeing to have lunch with me that first day, and for not running from my ridiculous behavior after that. Thank you for allowing me to get to know you, even when I didn’t deserve your patience or understanding. Thank you for trusting me—for giving me your heart and your body and changing me forever in the process. Thank you for dealing with all the trouble that comes with loving somebody like me. Thank you for being brave enough to fight for us when I was too afraid to do it. And above all, thank you for making me feel like myself again. For taking me, flaws and all, and loving me anyway. You have never once let me doubt your feelings for me, and I just want you to know that you are absolutely everything to me. And it’s all I need, just to know that somehow, I managed to do something right in my life by finding you.

  I love you more than I could ever express, in writing or in words.

  Missing you always,

  Danny

  Leah read the letter three more times through the blurred vision of her tears before her eyes fell closed, and she folded it carefully and brought it to her lips. She could have sworn she smelled traces of him on the paper, and she inhaled deeply as a tear slipped over her lower lashes and down her cheek.

  With a tiny sigh, she opened her eyes and pushed off the couch, making her way back toward her bedroom. She opened the box of his letters she kept next to her bed, placing the new one on top before grabbing the pen and pad off her nightstand.

  Leah sat back against the headboard with the pad balanced on her thighs, beginning her letter to him the same way she’d started every one she had written for the past nine months:

  Danny,

  One day closer to the day you’ll come back to me, and I love you more now than I did yesterday…

  Leah had just turned off the water in the shower when she heard the muffled sound of her phone ringing in the other room, and she whipped the curtain open and hopped out, cursing as she caught her right foot on the edge of the tub in her haste.

  She hobbled over to her towel and swung it around her body before she rushed out of the bathroom and over to her nightstand.

  “Hello?” she said, attempting to secure the towel.

  “Hey,” Robyn said. “Why do you sound so out of breath?”

  “Because I’m extremely out of shape, apparently,” she said, walking back to the bathroom. “I just ran to get the phone.”

  “Well, sorry that I made you exercise,” she laughed. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m definitely coming tonight. I’ll bring a barf bag if I have to.”

  Leah grabbed another towel and used it to squeeze the excess water from her hair. “Not feeling any better, huh?”

  “That would be a no,” Robyn sighed.

  “Did the lemonade help at all?” she asked, wiping the fog from the mirror and then opening the cabinet to remove her toner and moisturizer.

  “Not really. I’ve had the most success with sour candies, but those only work while I’m sucking on them. I’d eat them all day if I could, but they’re starting to shred the roof of my mouth.”

  Leah cringed. “This part doesn’t last forever. Just keep telling yourself that.”

  “I know,” she said. “And there are things I haven’t tried yet. I read in one of my books that those sea sickness wristbands work for some people, so Rich just ran out to the drugstore to get me some. I’m sure they’ll look sexy with my dress tonight.”

  Leah laughed softly, applying her face cream. “You know you don’t have to come tonight. Honestly, everyone will understand.”

  “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  Leah smiled just as Robyn added, “Oh shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. I need to get in the shower. I do not want to deal with your sister if I’m late.”

  “I think she’d go easy on you, preggers.”

  “Probably, but I’m not willing to chance it. See you in a little while.”

  “Bye,” Leah said with a shake of her head before she put the phone on the sink and leaned toward the mirror, inspecting her skin as she tried to figure out how she wanted to do her makeup.

  She glanced down, sifting through her makeup case until she pulled out a coppery eye shadow that would complement the brown dress beautifully. And then she smiled, remembering the day Holly had forced her to buy it.

  She’d come so far since then.

  Leah began singing softly to herself as she dusted some loose powder over her face to even out her complexion.

  She had just finished putting on her eye mak
eup when a slight movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she glanced at the reflection of the doorway in the mirror.

  “Are you gonna hog the bathroom all night? I still have to shower, you know.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she turned, leaning back against the sink as she swept her arm dramatically in front of her. “By all means, go ahead. Don’t let me stop you from getting naked.”

  He smirked, pushing off the doorframe as he walked toward her, and Leah straightened as his hands gripped her waist, lifting her with ease so that she was sitting on the edge of the sink. He stepped into the space between her legs, and she hooked them around his hips, her towel riding up with the movement.

  “Do you want to hop in with me?” he asked, running the tip of his nose along her jaw and up to her ear, placing a soft kiss just below it.

  “Mmm,” she hummed. “Very tempting. But then I’d have to re-do my makeup, and Sarah will put a hit out on me if we’re late.”

  He laughed, pulling back slightly to look in her eyes. “She’s already sent me three texts, telling me to do whatever I need to do in order to move you along.”

  Leah smirked. “Well then, I’d say what you’re doing right now is highly counterproductive.”

  He smiled a slow smile before he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him so abruptly that he stumbled back a step.

  He laughed against her mouth but allowed her to take the lead, kissing her back with equal fervor.

  It had been almost a month since Danny had come home, and yet she still responded that way every time he kissed her. She had no idea if it was a subconscious attempt at making up for lost time, or if it was more about trying to make the most of the time they had now, but either way, her reaction to him was as consistent as it was visceral.

  Danny let her get away with it for a minute or two before she felt him ending the kiss, and she made a pouting noise against his lips.