14. Giana

CHAPTER 14

Giana

Dear Leo,

I won’t tell you I’ve been keeping track of the days we’ve been apart like some kind of lovesick puppy dog. I won’t tell you I haven’t been doing that either.

Saying our situation is unfair feels like an understatement. I know you have “family obligations,” and I respect you for stepping up. But it doesn’t mean I miss you any less.

Thanksgiving is next week. You were supposed to be home by now. While it was nice of Mr. Martin to invite me, I’m not sure I’ll go there for dinner. What if I came to see you instead? I’m sure I can get some time off from the diner. Maybe not until after Thanksgiving, though.

Think your mama would mind if I came there and crashed her perfect Southern socialite reputation when I introduce myself to her friends as her son’s live-in girlfriend? Bet she’d get a kick out of that.

I’m kidding. But not kidding about wanting to see you. Maple Ridge isn’t the same without you. The cabin isn’t the same. It’s lonely. I’m not sure how I ever thought I could live here alone.

Come home soon, Cowboy.

All my love, Giana

T hanksgiving has come and gone. Staying home sounded best, but Nettie convinced me to have dinner with the family. There are rumors about the war. About a draft. It has the entire town on edge.

Both Nettie and I aren’t excluded from that. Just the thought of Leo going over there has me so frazzled that I’ve been messing up at work. I’m surprised I didn’t get fired after I dropped a tray holding an entire family’s dinners.

The president is holding a press conference tonight. I don’t have a television, so after I finish my shift at the diner, I walk on the snow-shoveled sidewalk to Nettie’s. She and Pete got a television as a wedding present.

After I climb the steps and knock on the door to the hardware store’s apartment, Nettie welcomes me inside. There’s a somber tone in the space. I can feel it from the moment I step inside.

Nettie takes my coat, and I stomp the snow from my boots. Nettie and Pete’s parents are here too. Everyone is crowding around the small television. Poor Nettie is serving drinks while she emanates panic. It’s something best friends notice about one another.

I’m no better at hiding my jitters. After she hands her mother-in-law a cup of tea, I take Nettie’s hand in mine and squeeze it tight. She closes her eyes briefly, and when she opens them, they’re misty. The tears are inevitable. Even though we don’t know what’s going to happen, it’s almost as if we do.

The state of address begins, and a banner runs along the bottom of the television screen. A hush covers the room, and in an instant, it’s stuffy, and I fight to take a breath. Thick dread fills my limbs like concrete.

I want to shut my eyes tight and pray to a God I’m not even sure I believe in. I skip closing my eyes; I don’t want to miss anything on the screen. But I do pray. Please, God. Please, don’t let Leo’s number be called.

And then, in a matter of seconds, life is never the same again.

Hot blood pounds in my ears after I hear the number called. Leo’s number. My legs quake beneath me. The weight of an arm comes around my shoulders. Sobs tear out of me, and I collapse onto the thick mustard-colored carpet. Blackness tunnels at my vision.

Until I see and hear nothing at all.

Dear Leo,

It would seem the universe is trying to keep us apart. But what did we ever do to it? I know you believe in God, and I respect you for it. But I prayed and asked for your number not to be called. I don’t expect to do much praying while you’re over there fighting for a war no one believes in anymore.

It’s admirable what you did. Telling your mama to hold onto her money in case she needs it to pay Marco’s way if his number gets called after he turns eighteen. Do I think you’re batshit crazy for practically volunteering? Yes. But I love you all the same. Maybe even more so. Is that even possible?

I only hope this letter reaches you before you leave. If anything, so you know, I plan on sanding the porch swing and painting it. When you return home, it will be waiting for you. And if it’s not clear, I will be waiting for you.

Your compass hangs around my neck each day. I never take it off. I swear I won’t until you’re home safe with me. I love you, Leonardo Moretti.

Yours always and forever, Giana

I t’s almost my favorite time in Maple Ridge. Summer. Warm air, sun-kissed skin, fields of flowers. And the creek is bearable to swim in.

It’s been six months since Leo went to Vietnam, fighting the war nearly every American is sick of hearing about. But that doesn’t lessen the reality that our men are still over there. It’s a reality I live with every day.

Despite my family trying to convince me to stay with them while Leo is away, being at the cabin is the only place I feel close to him. During the time we spent working on the cabin, we learned so much about one another. I learned so much about myself.

It’s Saturday, and Pete and Nettie have invited themselves over to the cabin for the afternoon. God bless them, they try to be a distraction. Sometimes it helps. But most of the time, it only makes me remember the fun the four of us shared last summer .

I sit on the porch swing, my finger grazing the painted wood. After I finished sanding and painting it, I took a picture with Pete’s camera, and he’s going to give me the photo after he gets the film developed. I plan on slipping it in with the next letter I send to Leo.

The sound of Pete’s truck tearing up the gravel drive draws my attention. Nettie hops out of the passenger side before the dust has even settled. I stand and watch as she rushes up the porch steps. She tackles me with a hug and I cling to her for just a moment longer than usual.

“How ya doing, Gigi?”

There’s no point in lying to her. We’re best friends. She probably knows better than I do about how I’m doing.

“Terrible. Like my heart is sitting outside my body.” It’s the best description I can come up with, and it seems to satisfy her enough.

She tries to put on a brave face for me.

Pete shuffles up the steps. He can hardly look at me. Like he’s guilty that his number hasn’t been called yet.

I don’t think about the unfairness of that. At least not very often. It’s not like if I could choose that I’d want my best friend’s husband to be sent off to war instead of my boyfriend. If I had it my way, I’d choose for neither of them to go. Hell, I’d choose for the war to be over already so everyone could come home.

“We brought you something.” Pete holds up a box, and I follow him inside the cabin. “Nettie baked a cake. And I made you some new poker sticks to roast s’mores.”

My eyebrows pinch together, and I tilt my head as Nettie helps Pete unload the box.

“What for? It’s not my birthday.”

Pete and Nettie share a look before Nettie bites her lip and has a hard time making eye contact with me. Realization sets in, and my limbs feel heavy.

“Tomorrow is Leo’s birthday.” The compass necklace hangs from my neck, feeling as if it weighs fifty pounds. I cup the metal in my hand and close my fist around it.

“We’re also celebrating something else. I’m pregnant,” Nettie announces, chewing on her thumbnail.

Now it’s my turn to tackle her. We needed this good news. I needed this good news. And a baby is always good news.

Dear Leo,

Guess what? Nettie baked you a cake for your birthday. Chocolate, your favorite. I saved you a piece in the freezer. Pete made you poker sticks. He said the ones you made were satisfactory, but this will work better for roasting marshmallows. He’s not wrong. They do work great.

My gift to you is the enclosed photo. Well, not the photo, but the finished project. It took a few days of sanding the swing and a couple of coats of paint, but I think it turned out all right. I can’t wait for you to see it in person. I can’t wait to sit on it with you and watch the sunset dip below the horizon every night.

Being at the cabin this time of the year is both the hardest and the best. I miss you more than anyone has ever missed another person. So much that it physically hurts. Maybe I ought to see a doctor about it.

Please come home soon, Cowboy .

Oh, and guess what? Nettie is pregnant! You’re gonna have a new baby cousin. And I’m gonna be a godmother.

Love you forever, Giana

Dear Leo,

We celebrated another one of your birthdays without you. Nettie is really stepping up her game. This time she added a chocolate ganache center. It was delicious. I tossed out last year’s piece from the freezer and replaced it with a slice from this year. I think you’ll like it better anyway.

Baby Jack is adorable. He’s almost six months old. Pete is an exceptional father. And Nettie, well, you know Nettie. She dotes on everything he does. I’m the fun godmother. I’ll be the first one to sneak him a beer. That is, if you don’t do it first.

Your sister, Sara, sent me a letter a few weeks ago. She’s got a scholarship for college from FFA. It sounds like Marco is doing a fine job running the family ranch. Apparently, he’s already got himself a steady girlfriend. I’m sure you’re mighty proud of both of them.

Nothing new with me. Still working at the diner. It’s not exciting, but it pays the bills. I’ve taken to learning how to play the guitar. I’m not very good at it, but it makes me feel closer to you. Sometimes I see you in my dreams. Those are my favorite nights.

Love you forever, Giana