“Thanks, Dad.” I take a deep breath. “I just can’t deal with any of this now.”
“I assume you want to bring her home?”
I know what he is saying, and I nod. Jayden should be brought back to our hometown. It’s where we met and where her father lives.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you some food and get you home.”
“Mom, the last thing on my mind is food.” I rub her shoulder. “But I need to go home. I’m so tired.” I’ve been traveling for four days on military transport. I haven’t gotten much sleep, and not to mention the emotional trauma of everything. “I’d like to lie down for a bit.”
She turns back toward my dad and says, “I’m gonna take Jake home. We’ll go in his car.” She turns toward Jayden’s dad. “Harold, would you like to go with us?”
“I would, thank you.”
We get back to our house, a house I have not been to in over eleven months. When I arrived back at base, I went straight to the hospital, not even bothering to drop my things at home. Mom pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine off.
“Ready?” she asks.
No. Of course I am not ready. That last thing I want to do is go in that house if Jayden is not going to be there to greet me. But what if the past several hours has been nothing but a nightmare and Jayden is alive and well? What if I walk into the house and she rushes out of the kitchen to greet me at the door, like she always did? She will throw her arms around me and kiss me long and deep. We would end up in bed and spend the rest of the day making love.
What if?I quickly unfasten my seat belt, open the car door, and rush to the door. With my key, I frantically open the door. I step inside and say, “Baby, I’m home.”
Silence.
No rustling in the kitchen.
No excited squeal of joy.
No footsteps coming to the door.
No footsteps upstairs.
Silence.
I swear in that moment, reality slaps me in the face. Jayden is dead.
I turn to go back to the car. I don’t want to be here, but Harold is bringing up my bags from the car, and Mom is right behind him. He’s in his seventies now and shouldn’t be carrying my heavy bags. I take them from him and bring them into the house.
I stand in my own home, feeling more like a stranger than I ever have. Jayden’s coffee cup is sitting on the bar with a bit of four-day-old coffee still in it. Her slippers are lying on the floor next to her favorite chair, the round one she always snuggled with Jaxson in. A printed copy of her current work in progress is on the end table. She always did her self-edits from a printed copy and not on the computer screen. Everything is exactly how she left it four days ago, except for the fresh flowers she always kept on the bar. They are dead and wilted.
I wish I could turn back the clock, but I know I can’t. What has happened has happened, and the result is what it is. She would always say, “It is what it is, and there is nothing you can do to change it.”
I can’t deal with any of this. I turn to my mother and say, “I’m going to lie down.” I can bring Jayden back in sleep. It’s the only way I will see her.
I never thought about what it would feel like to walk in our bedroom knowing she won’t ever be back. As I reach the doorway, reality slaps me in the face again, and I sob. I walk to the bed and sit.
I look around the room and take it all in. The laundry basket in the corner is full of dirty clothes. Jayden always did laundry on Thursdays. Today is Friday, so it would have been done, but it’s not. Her brush and that oily stuff she put on her hair to make it smooth and shiny is sitting on top of the dresser as if she just used it. She has clothes on the bed, outfits she must have tried on that didn’t work, I assume, as she always did this. I glance at the nightstand on her side of the bed, and I see a notebook and pen. Jayden was notorious for keeping a notebook by the bed in case a story idea came to her in a dream, which she always said happened frequently.
I pick it up and look inside it. It’s not what I expected. Instead, it is a letter, and it is addressed to me. It’s not a normal letter but a bunch of random thoughts in a journal-like format, with no dates. This is odd and definitely out of character. Jayden and I did not send each other letters when I was on deployment because we either talked on the phone or emailed. I read the letter.
My darling Jake –
You’re gone. I’m in a panic because I am so afraid I will never see you again. I pray every day for you to come back to me safely.
Jaxson is getting worse. I don’t want to lose him. You and he make up both halves of my heart, and I fear I am losing you both.
I wish the construction outside would stop. They are making me crazy. I walk around with a constant headache these days.
It was so good talking to you tonight. I miss you, baby.
