Chapter 20

CHAPTER

TWENTY

Faith

"Are we ready?" I ask my class, feeling nervous for this afternoon.

It took a little coordination to schedule today's conference call between my kindergarten class and Chad and a few members of his unit. Their CO arranged for them to use the comms tent for up to thirty minutes, but in order to make it all work during the school day, they're missing part of their breakfast time to do this. Chad wasn't worried, stating speaking with my class was more important than enjoying a full mealtime, but I still feel guilty.

"Ready!" they all holler, eagerly bouncing around as kindergarteners tend to do.

I take in the group of nineteen students. They're standing together on the reading rug, and it takes everything I have to keep them somewhat organized and in line. As soon as we start the video chat, we're going to do a quick group thing and then have a seat on the rug. We've been talking about this all week, so hopefully they remember what we've talked about and remain polite and respectful throughout the entire call.

My laptop is on my desk, with the camera facing the room, but I'm using the projector screen for the actual call. This way, all the kids can see what's going on when it connects.

With my heart pounding like a snare drum in my chest, my laptop starts to chime, indicating I have a call. The kids all respond excitedly, but before I connect, I turn around and place my index finger to my lips. "Shhhhh," I say softly. "Remember, we have to be quiet when the call connects. You'll each have an opportunity to speak in just a few minutes."

My class nods… and wiggles.

Man, I love teaching kindergarten .

I press the button and wait two very long seconds for my husband's face to fill the screen. As soon as I see him, tears fill my eyes, and a huge smile breaks out across my lips. "Hi," I croak, my throat suddenly incredibly dry.

"Hey, baby," he murmurs softly, reaching out and touching the screen. In that moment, it's as if he's touching me, running his calloused finger across my cheek.

Giggles erupt behind me, and I can't help but blush. For a brief second, it felt like we were the only two in the world, despite being so far apart.

I step back, looking up at the projection screen over my desk and make sure it's connected. The front classroom lights are off so the kids can see better, and since everything looks to be set, I move to the back of the group and stand behind my kids.

As I look at the screen, I realize Chad has several people behind him. Not just a couple like he indicated before. There are more than a dozen all standing there, all smiling at the camera. "Oh my goodness, I thought there was just going to be a few of you," I reply awkwardly.

Chad grins. "Everyone wanted to be a part of this."

"Wow, okay," I reply, clearing my throat. Suddenly, the plan I had come up with just vacates my head, and all I can do is stand here and stare at the man I love.

"Can we do the 'legiance now?" Frankie asks.

"Yes, let's start," I reply, finally finding the words. To my class, I ask, "Are you ready?"

I get a mixture of replies, as well as a lot of movers and shakers as they all place their hands over their hearts. Frankie was chosen as leader for the day because his dad is serving in the military, stationed in Japan for a brief time. He's expected to be home within the next month or two, and I made sure his unit was included in the list of care packages sent out by the school.

"You may begin, Frankie," I tell him, placing my hand over my heart.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag…"

As the kindergarteners start the Pledge of Allegiance, I watch as Chad and his unit stand at attention, place their hands over their hearts, and recite the pledge along with us. Once again, tears fill my eyes as I watch these little five- and six-year-olds interact with members of the military.

This is a moment I will never forget.

When we've completed the pledge, I say, "All right, class. Have a seat."

They all drop down, getting comfortable.

"The guys and I just wanted to tell you all how grateful we are for the care packages you sent us. I wish I could show you now, but we have your drawings all hanging around the bunk. It brightens up the tent and gives all of us a piece of home," Chad says.

"We had a lot of fun with this project, didn't we, kids?"

They all reply, "Yes!" or some version of it.

"The kids have a few questions for you guys. Is it okay if they ask?"

"Of course," Chad and a few others all reply.

"Well, the main question they have is what do you do during the day?" I ask.

"We all do a variety of jobs, but one of the main ones is research," Chad starts. "We also do a little work for another unit and help keep the area we're in secure. I can't give you too many more details, but I can tell you it's very hot where we're at and there's lots of sand, kinda like the Mojave Desert back home where you guys are."

We spend the next twenty minutes talking. Many kids ask questions, and the service men and women do their best to answer them. Some are silly, like "Do you have cats there? We have cats running around that get in the trash and make Daddy mad." Or slightly inappropriate questions, like "Do you shoot bad guys?"

Too soon, it's time to sign off so Chad and his unit can go eat breakfast. Sadness washes over me at the thought of disconnecting. Now that I have him on screen, I want to keep him there.

"Okay, class, can you tell everyone thank you for serving our country?" I ask, emotions already welling up in my eyes and throat.

"Thank you!" they holler collectively, and many start waving.

Chad and the rest of the unit smile and reply, "You're welcome."

I go to the laptop and disconnect the big screen, so it's just him and me now on the laptop. "Thank you so much for doing this," I tell him, my throat tight once more.

"Anything for you, wife," he replies with a gentle smile.

"Please tell the rest of the unit how much I appreciate them doing this. Today was something these kids will never forget."

"And what the kids did for us is something none of us will forget either," he says, once again touching the screen. Every time he does this, it's as if he's reaching right through the device and caressing my face. "I miss you so much," he whispers.

"Miss you too," I murmur softly.

"I wish I could stay and chat longer, but I need to get to the mess tent. A line is going to form soon to get in here and call home, especially after having the opportunity to chat with your class. It's such a great feeling to do this type of stuff, but it's also a reminder of what we left behind."

His words are like an arrow to my heart. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that aspect."

"Don't. Don't apologize. I'm the one who suggested this, remember? And when I asked for a couple volunteers, every single person in the unit stepped forward. We understand the sacrifices we make, and we deal. Not one of the service members who were in this tent just a few minutes ago feel anything other than joy after speaking with your class, babe. I promise. But as the nights start to close in on us, we all desperately want to hang on to that little slice of home as long as possible."

I nod, understanding what he's trying to say. Unfortunately, the kids behind me start to get a little rowdy, and I know our time is over. "Thank you for doing this."

"I love you, baby," he whispers.

"I love you too."

It's funny how easy those words are to say now, and I really hope he understands what they mean. Yes, I love him as a friend—my best friend, honestly—but it's so much more than that now.

He's my everything.

"Talk to you soon," he adds, before reaching for the button to disconnect the call.

"Bye," I whisper right before the screen goes blank.

As much as I want to sit here and maybe have a good cry over missing him so much, I can't. There are nineteen students ready for story time and their afternoon snack, so that's where I shift my focus. To helping grow little minds, all while mine is thousands of miles away, in the desert sand.

"What do you think of this one?"

I look up over my champagne glass and smile. Shayne is on her third wedding dress of the afternoon, and I couldn't be having more fun. "Oh my God, you are breathtaking," I tell her, watching as she twirls in front of the wall of mirrors.

"You think?"

"The important question is what do you think?"

She grins from ear to ear. "This is the one."

"Shayne!"

I turn toward the voice and laugh when I see my mom and mother-in-law walk around the corner. They're both standing there in complete awe, staring at the beautiful bride-to-be in what I assume will be the dress she chooses.

"You are absolutely beautiful. My son isn't going to know what hit him," my mom states, making us all laugh.

"I agree. You're going to be the most stunning bride, Shayne," her aunt, Chad's mom, adds.

She studies herself in the mirror for several long seconds before nodding. "This one. I love it," she announces, earning cheers from all of us.

"Excellent," the saleslady replies. "What do you see for a veil? Waist, fingertip, floor, or chapel length?"

Shayne's eyes bug out a little bit, and I can sense there's a hint of panic happening. Quickly, I stand up and approach. "Why don't we try one of each? Then the bride can determine which length she likes with the dress."

The saleslady nods. "Excellent idea. I'll be right back," she replies, scurrying off to retrieve the veils.

"Joan and I were just admiring the mother-of-the-bride and -groom dresses. We may try a few on today," Beth states.

"Please do," Shayne replies. "That's why I wanted to get as much of this stuff done as I could this weekend, since Faith is here."

Joan looks a little unsure, twisting her hands together. Shayne steps forward, taking her aunt's hands in her own and giving them a squeeze. "Uncle Henry is giving me away because he's the closest man I have to a father. And you, Aunt Joan, are the closest thing I have to a mother. I want you both to sit in the front row, and yes, that means you get to wear a mother-of-the-bride dress, because there's no one I look at as a mother more than you."

Joan wipes away a stray tear and pulls her niece into a hug. "I love you, sweet girl."

"And I love you. Now, go. Pick out a beautiful dress that'll knock Uncle Henry on his ass."

They walk away to return to the dresses, chatting a mile a minute about their options for styles and color.

"I'm so glad you came home for Thanksgiving," Shayne states, standing in front of me.

"Me too," I tell her, taking her hand in mine.

"Chad's still gonna try to call later, right?"

I nod. "That's the plan," I reply. "I know everyone is looking forward to talking to him."

It's the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and even though we would have liked to have connected with him this past Thursday, it didn't work out with his schedule. But I received a text message early this morning, letting me know he has time this evening for a chat. He's using the comms tent again, so he knows he has a good connection and has enough time for a quick visit with the family.

"You must be looking forward to January."

My heart skips a beat. "I am," I reply instantly. Chad informed me last week they're looking to head home in early to mid-January. The exact date still isn't set, but the fact they'll be home closer to the five-month mark instead of the six makes me insanely happy.

And nervous.

"Have you told him?"

Her question catches me off guard. "Told him what?"

"That you love him, silly."

I open my mouth but close it just as quickly. Shayne is the only person I've told that our rushed wedding wasn't entirely for love. Yes, there's love there, but not the kind you plan a quickie wedding for. Our union was based on Chad's deployment to give him peace of mind and to help me settle into my first real job as a kindergarten teacher. Not exactly heartfelt reasons to tie the knot.

"I, uh…"

"That's a no."

"I've told him I love him, but I'm sure he just thinks it's because we're friends. Same with him saying it."

"He doesn't," she assures me confidently. "He tells you because he means it."

"I don't know…"

"I do. That man is head over heels in love with you, Faith. Always has been, even if you two decided to stick with friendship because of his military career."

"It's so complicated, Shayne," I whisper, dropping down into the chair behind me.

"Love always is, Faith, but no matter what journey it takes you on, the end result is always worth it. Some rides are short and reckless. Those are lessons we learn, while other loves stick their landing and stay. Like Ford. He was one determined SOB," she says with a chuckle. "And I'm so glad he fought for us, because I've never been happier than I am to walk through this life with your brother at my side."

I reach out and take her hands. "He's the lucky one."

"And so is Chad. He knows it too. I know things happened fast for you two, but don't discount the fact it's still very real. And very right. Every love is different, Faith. Just because it didn't happen like it did for someone else doesn't make it any less true."

My throat bobs as I try to swallow over the lump. All I can do is nod.

"I think you should tell him when he gets home. Tell him you love him love him and want to make a million babies."

And just like that, Shayne breaks the tension with a single comment. "I'm not sure about a million. I'm not giving birth to a litter in a box under the stairs."

She smiles. "Wouldn't that be something?"

"No, that sounds terrible," I reply, laughing. "I need a hospital room with drugs. All the drugs, Shayne."

She giggles even more. "Me too."

"All right, I have several different lengths for you to try, Shayne," the saleswoman says, rejoining us in the back room.

I watch as they go through the process of trying each length with her dress. Since the back is open and there isn't a train to her dress, Shayne ultimately settles for a cathedral length, which extends out several feet onto the floor. It's also thinner and doesn't cover the detail of the dress as much as the thicker, waist-length veil did.

"That's the one," I tell her confidently. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thanks," she says, giving herself one last look in the mirror. "March is going to be here before we know it."

"It is, but we'll be ready. I might be living a plane ride away, but I'm just a phone call away. I'll help anyway I can," I reassure her.

She nods and heads for the dressing room to change out of her dress. "Thanks, Faith, for everything."

"You're not just my brother's future wife. You're my sister too."

Tears fill her eyes as she gives me a grateful smile. "Give me five minutes to change, and then we're going to pick you out the perfect maid of honor dress."

Images of tacky, terrible dresses filter through my mind, and I'm so grateful Shayne isn't the type to want anything other than something simple, classic, and beautiful.

With excited grins on our faces, we set out to find the perfect maid of honor dress.

One that will hopefully bring Chad Anthony to his knees.