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“Do you want me to go?” Aero asked, his voice breaking slightly. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, but he understood if she was scared or wanted to be left alone.
“No,” Sam said, taking his face in her hands. “You can stay right here with me.”
He gave her a wary smile and kissed her lightly, shifting to lay back against the pillows, resting her on his chest.
“Was that bad? Or could it be worse?”
“Um,” Aero swallowed hard. “What did I do?”
Sam blinked, then explained what she’d seen.
“Then no. Other than grabbing you, that wasn’t too bad,” Aero admitted. Sam nodded against him.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Sam asked and he stiffened.
“It was about my time in Iraq,” he told her. “There was an incident. A lot of people were hurt. When I have the nightmare it’s, uh, sort of like reliving it over and over until I wake up.”
Sam nodded again, her heart aching for him. She also felt guilt slither over her, chilling her. Was this her fault? Because she’d chosen a present that reminded him of his time in the service, did that trigger something in his mind that caused the nightmare? He’d done so well at grounding himself and even went on to tell her about holidays with Sarah. Sam had thought they’d taken a step forward, but perhaps they hadn’t.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she whispered and he held her more tightly.
“Me too,” Aero admitted, staring up at the ceiling.
They lay in silence for a long time, Sam making small circles on his chest with her fingers, until they fell asleep once more.
********
“Is this Samantha Coleman?”
A line formed between Sam’s brows as she heard the woman on the phone speak. “Yes, it is.”
“Miss Coleman, my name is Anna Hackman. I’m the assistant to the president of The Preston Foundation for Education.”
“Oh, hi, how are you?” Sam perked up, excitement fizzling in her veins at the mention of the grant foundation.
“I’m well, thank you. I’m calling today because we have yet to receive your completed application form for the Classroom Excellence Funding Grant. It is due by Monday at the absolute latest.”
Sam’s stomach plummeted. “I mailed the application over a week ago.”
“We haven’t received it. We must have it by Monday, as any late forms will not be processed.”
“Well, I can mail another copy,” Sam said, standing from the couch and hurrying to her laptop to print another copy.
“You should also know the office is closed on Friday due to the New Year’s holiday, and we are not open on weekends. Could you drop off a copy tomorrow?”
“Um, no, I’m afraid that’s not possible. I live in Colorado.” Sam glanced at the mailing address on the application. Washington DC. Shit.
Anna clicked her tongue. “Well, I suggest having the documents overnighted to us. Otherwise, it’s unlikely we will be considering you for the grant.”
There was no sympathy in her voice.
“Can I email it?” A spark of hope jolted in Sam’s chest. That would get it there almost instantly.
“I’m sorry, Miss Coleman, but I cannot accept applications via email. We do not have a central email and all applications must pass through our processing center, which is in Washington DC.”
Wanting to tear her hair out, Sam found her calm teacher voice and said, “I’ll get it there. Thank you.”
Ending the call, Sam snatched the application off her printer, signed and dated each page, and put it into an envelope.
