[Finding Emma 01.5] Dear Jack by Steena Holmes

 
    Dear Jack,
     
    You just drove away and as I watch the dust trail behind you, it’s all I can do not to cry. I picture your hands clutched together on your lap while Doug tries to get your mind off of what you just did. You’re looking out the window, thinking about the things you left undone and wondering if I can keep everything together until you get back.
    But what you’re really thinking is if you get back. If . Even when you told me to never say it, I know you’re thinking it. How can you expect me not to? I believe in you Jack. I trust you . I know that you will do everything possible to come back home to me. It’s them I don’t trust. The people you’ll be fighting against.
    The whisper of your breath still caresses my cheek from when you held me close. What happens when I lose that feeling, when it only becomes a memory?
    I know you asked me not to do this. Those last words you whispered to me were to stay strong, to keep the hope alive in my heart and to be there for Mary. I wanted you to say you loved me and you’d come home for me.
    The dust trail following Doug’s car is gone now. You’ve really left me. Us. A part of me kept hoping you wouldn’t, but I knew deep down you would. Please come home, Jack. Please.
    There’s not much I won’t do for you. I wish with all my heart you didn’t have to leave, but I know that for you, serving your country is your way of protecting your family — even when I disagree.
    I can say that now. Here, in this journal that you bought for me. You asked me to write to you daily in this, to share with you my day, to tell you stories about Mary…I just hope you won’t regret it.
    If there’s one thing you know about me, it’s that I’m honest to a fault. I love you Jack, but I am angry with you for leaving. I’ve never felt this angry with you.
    If you don’t come home to me — I will never forgive you.
    How’s that for my first letter to you?
     
    ~~~
     
    I’m sorry. That was horrible. You don’t need to be reading that nonsense. I can’t promise never to write it but I will promise to keep my fears to myself. I’m scared that you are gone. I’m worried that you won’t come home to me.
    Jack, you need to keep your promise to me, that you’ll come home safe and sound. I don’t care if you’re scarred or missing limbs — you just need to come home.
    It’s late. The house is quiet and the reality of you not being here has finally set in. I’m not sure I can sleep tonight without you by my side. This will be our first night apart since we’ve been married. It doesn’t feel right.
    I was able to keep busy this afternoon, working in the garden and baking a cake with Mary. She is such a strong little girl. She carried in some wood logs and placed them by the fireplace, just like you taught her. You would have been proud of her, Jack. We said a prayer for you tonight at dinner — actually, Mary was the one who prayed for you. I couldn’t get any words out past the lump in my throat. You should have seen her. Her eyes were clenched tight and her hands were folded beneath her chin. She asked that God’s strongest angels become your body guards.
    Speaking of Mary, she’s up in our bed, curled tight on your side. I stayed with her while she cried herself to sleep. She’s too young to understand what this all means. How you are fighting to protect our country and our rights. She just knows that her daddy isn’t here, taking care of her. I’m not sure if I’ll be everything she needs.
    I think that scares me the most. I know, you’re probably shocked to hear me admit that, waiting for lightning to strike. I’ll try Jack. I promise I’ll try to stay strong, to be what Mary needs me to be while you’re not here.
    Just promise to come home, okay?
     
    Love, forever yours.
     

 
    Dear Jack,
     
    You would have loved today. It was beautiful, full of sunshine and a gentle wind. If you were here, you’d be out in your front garden, nurturing those