Chapter 5

Allegra heard from Shep when he got to Kandahar. She thought about him constantly and felt like the bottom had dropped out of her world again. She checked in with her grandmother, knowing that she was still sad about her husband's death. Mariette was planning to spend the summer in Newport, although she was sad to be there without him, but she wanted to follow their traditions, and didn't want to spend the summer in New York. She invited her granddaughter to join her. Allegra had had several more job interviews, but no one had made her an offer yet. She was managing financially on the allowance her father gave her every month. She wasn't extravagant, but it was just enough for her to pay her rent and eat and for additional minor necessities, without frills or luxuries. She budgeted carefully. And Shep's army pay helped her too. His promotion to captain made a difference. But she still needed a job and wanted her own salary. She didn't want to be dependent on her husband and father.

She accepted her grandmother's invitation as a kindness to her, in return for all the holidays they had allowed her to stay with them. It seemed like the least she could do. Mariette hadn't heard from Isabelle since the funeral, which didn't surprise Allegra.

—

There were lapses between calls from Shep, and when Allegra heard from him, he sounded exhausted, and different from the last time he was there. He didn't sound as shell-shocked as he had then. He had a better idea of what to expect in a combat zone in that part of the world. She thought he sounded hardened at times, and cynical. There had been a loss of innocence since he had gone to war. He had seen things that ordinary people in the States never would. She didn't want his time there to ruin him or break him. It was a constant worry every moment he was away. He was tender and loving when he spoke to her and wrote to her, but between the lines, she could sense something different in him, something harder, which worried her.

Newport wasn't the same without him. She was as lonely as she had been there in her childhood, with no one to talk to now except her grandmother. Mariette wasn't in the mood for company. She had to be encouraged to get up and dress and eat, none of which she wanted to do. She declined all of her friends' invitations and turned down their offers to visit. Allegra coaxed her to take walks in the garden, sit in the sun, and do errands in town with her. She used every excuse to keep her moving and get her out of her room. Mariette's health seemed to be faltering. Allegra could see that she had lost her will to live, and discussed it with her grandmother's doctor when he came to check on her. None of it surprised him. It was typical of most people who lost a spouse of fifty years. The challenge would be for her to find a reason to go on living without him. All of Allegra's efforts were helpful and kept Mariette going through the summer. She and Arthur had enjoyed their social life in Newport. They were out almost every night, and now she never wanted to leave the house or see any of their friends. She took a tray in her room whenever possible, instead of eating in the dining room with Allegra.

"People are going to think I'm very poor company if you don't eat with me occasionally, Grandmother," she said, trying to tease her out of it, but she didn't get far. Mariette was suffering from lethargy and a lack of interest in the world, as the result of her grief. She had no idea of the strain Allegra was under, constantly waiting to hear from Shep, and praying that he wouldn't get hurt or killed in Afghanistan.

Since she hadn't found a job yet, she was able to stay with Mariette until the end of August. She went back to New York after Labor Day to pursue the search more energetically. Mariette decided to stay in Newport through September. The season was over by then. Most of her friends had gone back to Boston or New York or Washington, which was where the summer residents came from. So she had fewer people to avoid, and hardly got out of bed after Allegra left. Allegra called frequently to check on her, and the reports from the housekeeper weren't encouraging. Allegra felt sorry for her grandmother but couldn't do much from a distance. Mariette didn't want to talk on the phone either.

Two weeks after Labor Day, Allegra's calls to the employment agencies finally started to produce some results. She was sent on interviews at three different publishing houses. One of them asked her back for a second interview, which was a hopeful sign. It was a big, very respected publisher, and they had an opening for an editorial assistant.

Her school record was excellent, and a diploma from Columbia was a strong point in her favor. She got the job for a shockingly low salary, but she thought she could manage on it if she was very careful, and Shep would be out of the army in nine months, in June, and presumably earning more than he made in the military. She was grateful to get an entry-level job at an important publishing house. Her years of reading everything she could lay hands on would pay off now. She was extremely well read, which the interviewers had questioned her about. She had read some very obscure books, which impressed them.

She would be taught how to work on the manuscripts of previously unpublished, unknown authors, and learn how to get their books edited and ready for publication. It sounded exciting to Allegra, and she was thrilled to get the job. She had a week before her start date to find a new apartment. The publisher was in the West Forties, and she found a fifth-floor walkup in an old but well-kept building in Hell's Kitchen, which was becoming gentrified and was close enough for her to walk to work, saving her some money. She didn't mind the endless stairs. That had eliminated older tenants from wanting the apartment. It faced south, and was sunny. It had been freshly painted white. It was tiny, but big enough for her and Shep. Her father's allowance, added to her modest salary and Shep's army pay, would help her cover the rent. Bradley was still sending her money, since he didn't know she had married Shep. She knew it was dishonest of her not to tell him, but she needed the help, and once Shep came home and found a civilian job, she would tell him.

She had to hire a moving company to bring her furniture to the new apartment and get it up the five flights of stairs. She got rid of a few things that were too battered by then, but she kept the rest, so she didn't have to spend much money on the apartment. She had enough to furnish it. She did everything she could herself. She had learned to be frugal as a student, not wanting to be a burden on anyone. Her grandmother gave her checks occasionally for her birthday and Christmas, and she saved them for when she needed something she couldn't afford otherwise. She upgraded some of the furniture with it. She wanted the apartment to be pretty when Shep came home.

By the end of September, she had a job and a new home. It was a major leap into adulthood, and she was excited to go to work every day.

Her grandmother came home from Newport two weeks after she'd started her new job, and Allegra went to visit her on a Saturday. She was shocked to see that Mariette had lost a considerable amount of weight in the month Allegra hadn't been with her. Clearly no one was urging her to eat, and they were letting her waste away. Allegra stayed until lunchtime on her visit, and told her grandmother all about her new job, as she encouraged Mariette to eat a few mouthfuls of what had been sent up on a tray to her bedroom.

"You have to do better than that, Grandmother," Allegra said gently.

"Why? I don't go out anymore. With Arthur gone, I don't want to go out or see anyone. So what difference does it make if I eat?"

"That's not right. Grandfather wouldn't like that. You have to stay strong."

"Why? I never see Isabelle. I don't want to go to dinner parties alone. And you're sweet to visit me, but you have your own life to lead. I don't recall seeing Shepherd Williams this summer. Have you had a falling-out and stopped seeing him?" It was the first time Mariette had asked about him, and Allegra was touched. It had taken her three months to notice his absence.

"He's still in the army. He's in Afghanistan again. He'll be back for Christmas."

"I thought I hadn't seen him around. Usually, you two are inseparable. You must miss him," Mariette said. The way she said it brought tears to Allegra's eyes, which she didn't want her grandmother to see. She didn't want her to know how much she missed Shep, or how worried she was about him.

"I do miss him," she said quietly, and continued to try and get her grandmother to eat a little more of the food. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, although it was a beautiful sunny day outside. She tried to interest Mariette in a walk, but she didn't want to get out of bed. She hadn't gone for a walk outdoors since Allegra left Newport over a month before.

Allegra was sad when she left her. There was so little she could do. She went back to her apartment, put together a bookcase she'd bought, and shelved her books. She didn't mind the tiny size of the apartment. It was flooded with sunlight, and the furniture was comfortable and familiar. She couldn't wait for Shep to see it. Christmas didn't seem so far away now. He was halfway through his tour.

Her job kept her busy. She brought manuscripts home on most nights, evaluating them and using the skills she was learning to do light editing. She worked until late every night. Some of the manuscripts were very good, others less so. Reading them was inspiring, and made her think of writing one day. But she was a long way from there. She was twenty-two years old, in her first job, and still learning how to be an editor.

She wrote Shep about her job, and he told her how much he missed her. By November, she was already planning what they would do on Christmas when he got home. All he had to do then was commute from Washington on weekends for six months, and then they'd be like any other couple, working at their jobs and living together. The idea of a wedding reception seemed silly to her now. They were already married. She felt like she had belonged to him forever, and a wedding now with West Point cadets in dress uniforms seemed absurd. She just wanted Shep to come home in one piece. That was the only thing she needed.

Her grandmother didn't celebrate Thanksgiving that year. She had no desire to celebrate it without Arthur. Allegra went to see her in the morning, and she was still asleep. Allegra realized Mariette was going to spend the day in bed, so she went back to her apartment alone. Shepherd called her that night, and they had a few minutes to talk. He said he was going out on a mission and had just enough time to tell her he loved her before he hung up. He had told her before he left that there would be no missions in the field this time, which apparently wasn't true.

She spent the rest of the weekend editing and got a lot of work done. The senior editor she worked for was always impressed by how hard Allegra worked and how much she accomplished. It was easy for her. She had no other life than her job. She was friendly with the other women who worked there. There were a few other editorial assistants, all of them older than she was, and she liked them, but most of the time she kept to herself. She was very private about her personal life, and professional in the office. She wore her wedding ring and they knew she was married, but she never talked about Shep or said he was in Afghanistan. She shared no personal details at work and was very serious about her job. She was quiet and dignified, and mature for her age. Her senior editor thought she was unusual and gave a glowing report of Allegra to her superiors.

—

It seemed like Shep had been gone a lifetime when the day finally came for him to come home. Allegra had already done her Christmas shopping for him. She had bought him two sweaters to wear on weekends when he was out of uniform, and a watch with her Christmas bonus. She took the train to Washington the night before he was due home. He had already told her he had six weeks off, after combat duty.

It seemed like a miracle that he was coming home uninjured. He'd been lucky, and so was she that no harm had come to him. She smiled nearly all the way to Washington on the train and checked in to another familiar hotel near the base. They had a brightly lit Christmas tree in the lobby and Christmas decorations up.

Allegra had bought a small tree for the apartment and decorated it. His presents were wrapped and under the tree. But the best gift of all was Shep. She could hardly wait to see him and couldn't sleep that night. She was up at six, knowing he was due to land at ten and could leave the base immediately. There would be a physical thirty days later, but no procedures until then.

She went to the base at eleven, to give him time to get organized to leave. She had just gotten to the visiting area when she saw him walk in, in his uniform, with a duffel bag over his shoulder. His face broke into a broad grin when he saw her, and they collided as she ran toward him and threw herself into his arms. He held her tight and kissed her. He didn't have a mustache this time, but she could feel that he had lost a lot of weight again. He took a step back, the better to see her, and she could see an intense look in his eyes. There was nothing she could define clearly, other than the weight, but he looked different. He couldn't wait to leave the base with her.

They took a cab to the car rental agency. He wanted to drive this time. He got behind the wheel, for the long drive to New York, and kissed her again.

"I told you I'd be home for Christmas," he said triumphantly. He couldn't wait to have six weeks off with her, to settle into their relationship and routine before he had to report back for duty in Washington.

They never stopped talking all the way back to New York. She told him more about her job, and he told her all the things he wanted to do. He said nothing about Afghanistan, just as he hadn't before. It was the nature of his assignment in intelligence. He had a high security clearance, but he had other things to say to her, and whenever possible, he leaned over and kissed her.

He asked about her grandmother, and Allegra said she wasn't doing well. She rarely left her bed anymore. She wasn't that old, but the spirit had gone out of her when she lost her husband.

"I think that happens a lot with people who've been married for a very long time. I'm sorry to hear it," Shep said.

They got to New York at six o'clock. The stores were decorated for the holiday, they could see Christmas trees in every window, and he looked around their new neighborhood with interest.

"It seems a little rough around the edges," he commented as he looked at the older buildings, and a few remaining tenements.

"It's improving. They're gentrifying the area. I was lucky to get the apartment I did. The rents in the renovated buildings are much higher. Our building is old, but it's well taken care of and clean."

They hurried up the stairs together and as soon as he closed the door behind him, he pulled Allegra into his arms and kissed her. He could see the bedroom from the door, and headed straight there with her in his arms and set her down on the bed, and within seconds their clothes were off and they were swept away on a wave of passion that had been building for six months, and nothing had changed. He was still the man she knew and loved and had grown up with. She was enormously relieved to see that Afghanistan hadn't ruined him, or affected him the way it had before. They'd been lucky.

—

After they made love, she handed him his old bathrobe, and he wandered into the living room, sat down, and looked around. He recognized the old furniture in the room, liked the new pieces, and saw what a nice job she'd done arranging everything.

"Whose Christmas presents?" he asked with a boyish grin, and she laughed.

"Who do you think? Santa Claus left them for you."

"I have to go shopping. I didn't bring anything back from Kandahar for you. There's nothing you'd want there. It's a mess right now. And we're not helping. The whole place is a war zone. I'm glad they let me come home. I was worried they wouldn't."

She came to sit next to him and nestled close. He put an arm around her and held her, and he was quiet as he looked at the lights on the tree. There was a faraway look in his eyes that she'd noticed before, in the car. He had obviously brought his memories back. She knew he'd share them when he was ready, to the degree he could. So much of what he did he couldn't tell her. She had told him all about her job in the car on the ride home, and he had slept for a while when she drove.

Shep kept looking around the apartment as though it was a palace and he couldn't believe he was there.

"They sent us to one of the provinces on our last assignment. We were living in shacks and mud huts. You have no idea what this looks like to me now. Everything is beautiful, and so are you." He traced her features with his finger and it drifted down her neck to her breast, and he kissed her, the passion mounting in both of them. They were starving for each other. After they made love again, she poured him a glass of wine, while she made dinner. She'd bought him a steak because he loved them. She noticed as he held his glass of wine that his hand was shaking, enough so that she spotted it easily. She didn't want to ask him about it on their first night together. But it concerned her. And when she looked into his eyes, she saw the same pain she'd seen when he came back last time. Afghanistan had left its mark on him again. There was no way to come back from places like that unscathed. The signs were just more subtle this time, and over dinner she saw that he didn't smile the way he used to. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his heart. She realized that he had just gotten better at hiding it than he had been the first time.

He slept soundly that night and was up at five because of the time difference. He woke her to make love to her. She had taken the day off. It was Friday, and she'd taken the day before as well, to meet him in Washington. It was the weekend before Christmas, which was on the coming Wednesday. Just as they'd promised him, he was home for Christmas. She had to work on Monday and half a day on Tuesday, and then she had the rest of the week off to spend with him. He was planning to go to Boston for the day on Monday to see his parents. But he wanted to spend time with her first on the weekend. They were going to spend the holiday together, alone in the apartment.

After they made love, they went back to sleep, woke up late, and she made him a big breakfast of pancakes and eggs and bacon. He devoured it and once again, she noticed his hands shaking and wondered if he'd been sick in Kandahar and hadn't told her. He saw her notice, as he set his fork down, and he shrugged.

"Occupational hazard," he said lightly. "It's nothing."

"Did you tell a doctor over there?" she asked, worried.

"They've seen it before, in combat zones."

"Were you in the combat zones a lot?" she asked gently. He'd never told her. It was supposed to be an office job this time, but she knew it wasn't.

"Enough, but never for long. We went on specific missions and came back pretty fast. The enlisted guys have to stick around. MI doesn't. We're there for a reason, or to assess an area." It was the most he had ever told her about it.

"It must be stressful as hell," she said, thinking of his shaking hands.

"That's what we're there for." He smiled, and for a second he looked like a stranger. There was a look in his eyes as if he was someone who had joined a cult and was proud to be part of it. That look hadn't been there last time. The combat zone had come home with him.

They went for a long walk and admired the Christmas windows. It was a luxury to have a day off to spend with him. While they walked, he said something about his brothers.

"You'll have to meet them one of these days, when we tell them all we're married. Do we still want a wedding?" he asked her. It felt strange to be back in a normal world of Christmas decorations and weddings. It was hard to get used to, but he knew he had to.

"I don't know," she said about a wedding. "My grandmother would have to give it, and she's in no condition to. My father's in Afghanistan, and he wouldn't know what to do, and probably doesn't care. And we can use the money for other things. So maybe not." She looked mildly disappointed, but the thrill of having him home eclipsed and outweighed a lost chance to have a wedding. "It doesn't really matter. We have us." He nodded, relieved they didn't have to go through it.

"I guess we have to tell them," he said. "They're going to say you're too young. I'm not, but you are." She felt a lot older than twenty-two now. She felt as though she had lived several lifetimes.

"It's kind of fun keeping it a secret. We don't have to deal with anyone's opinions. Maybe I'll tell my father the next time he comes home. Did you tell the army?" she asked him.

He nodded. "I had to, so you get widow's benefits if I die," he said matter-of-factly. "But I marked it confidential." That sounded reasonable to her. He didn't seem like a boy to her anymore. He was a man now. He would be turning twenty-seven soon, but he looked much older. Whatever he had seen in Afghanistan had not only matured him, it had aged him. It was an ugly war. They all were. But Afghanistan was particularly so and had broken and disillusioned many men before him. She could see the disappointment in his eyes, and the sadness.

They went to see the tree at Rockefeller Center and went ice-skating, the way they had when they were kids. Now they were married, which made Allegra feel very grown-up, especially when Shep was home. Their marriage seemed more real when he was with her. There was a dreamlike quality to it when she was alone.

She noticed that he didn't speak about the future the way he used to. He wasn't talking about finding a job in June, or what direction his civilian career should take. He seemed more fatalistic after living with the risk of death every day. He was more cynical. He had been so innocent when he was younger, and so hopeful about life. Now he was less so. He had seen what ugly detours it could take, into unexpected danger zones. He had watched men die in front of him, both the enemy and his comrades. He had seen death meted out, and unexpected deaths that arrived swiftly and never should have occurred.

"No war should ever happen," he told her. "It destroys too many men." She was grateful it hadn't destroyed him, and that he had come back to her in one piece, even if his hands shook. She assumed that that would go away eventually. He was young and had survived.

They had a late lunch at a delicatessen after they went skating, and then they walked home. It was cold, but the air felt good on their faces as they walked through the theater district on the way to Hell's Kitchen. The usual familiar musicals were playing and so was a new production of A Christmas Carol . She had loved The Nutcracker as a child. Grandmother Dixon had taken her to see it once, in a rare burst of holiday generosity, and Allegra had never forgotten it. It was her only happy memory of them.

They settled into the apartment as it began to snow outside.

"It looks like it's going to be a white Christmas," she said, as they sat down on the couch, and he looked angry for a minute.

"Fuck Christmas." He said it vehemently and startled her, it was unlike him. "Do you realize how many men died in Afghanistan this year?" He spoke so harshly that she was shocked for a minute and didn't know what to say. He had always loved Christmas.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sure I don't know enough about the war there. But you never tell me about it," she said gently.

"I can't. What I know is classified, and some of it is top secret. But trust me, it's ugly." She could tell from the way he looked, and from what he had just said. It was dark, and they'd been out all day. She could tell that he was tired. He'd only been home for two days. He was still adjusting to normal life back in the States.

"Do you think you should get some counseling?" she asked him cautiously while they ate dinner. The last time he came home he had been sad and broken. This time he was angry, she could feel it bubbling under the surface. It seemed like a powerful force that he was trying to restrain.

"I don't need counseling, I'm fine," he said brusquely, and brushed off the suggestion. "I'm happy to be home." She didn't want to tell him he seemed angry to her, she didn't want to hurt his feelings. She saw nothing shameful in talking to a therapist, but he did, so she didn't bring it up again.

After he went to Boston to see his parents, he said that it went well, but he offered no details. Allegra had known his parents for years. They always seemed very cool and disengaged to her, and Shep always said he wasn't close to them. He very rarely mentioned his brothers, or even his parents, except to say that they were closer to his brothers and had never understood him. She didn't press him about it, since he only said it when he was drunk, which didn't happen often.

The day after he'd been to Boston, on Christmas Eve, he had a nightmare, and she awoke to hear him crying in his sleep. He was shouting something about a land mine, and then he was sobbing. She couldn't wake him when she tried. He was in a profound sleep. She held him and he finally calmed down and didn't stir again. But she lay awake for a long time, watching him and worrying about him. He was subtly different from when he left, but the difference was enough to concern her, and she wondered what part of him they had broken this time. Whatever it was, it was buried deep.