Elise opened one eye. Was it over? She looked at the clock: 3:52 a.m. Thank you, God, for December 26. She padded down to the bathroom and then out to the living room. White lights twinkled on the artificial tree.
“Mom.” Mark sat in Ted’s chair.
“What are you doing, honey?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“It’s the middle of the night!” She sat down on the couch.
“I know.”
“Is Michael in bed?”
“Since midnight or so.” Mark flung his leg over the arm of the chair.
“What’s the matter?”
Mark shrugged. “This was the worst Christmas ever.”
Elise slipped a pillow behind her back.
“Dad called.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“We tried.” Mark stood. “I asked him why he volunteered.”
“What did he say?”
“Same thing you did, but it made more sense when he said it.”
Elise rubbed her fingertips under her eyes.
“Did you know that the Garden of Eden was near Iraq?” Mark asked.
“It’s possible.”
Elise nodded. Was it ironic?
“Here Dad is near where humanity began …” His voice trailed off.
“And?” Elise yawned. What was Mark talking about?
“And look how horrible things have gotten.”
Elise tipped her head back. Desert Storm. Kosovo. 9/11. Afghanistan. Iraq. Mark’s life had been shaped by war; it had crashed, over and over, straight through his childhood. She never would have chosen this for him.
“I think Dad really wanted to go.” Mark slumped back down in the chair.
Elise did too. “How does that make you feel?”
“I hate that question. It’s so fabricated.”
Elise paused. “How did Dad sound?”
“You know Dad. He was his usual optimistic self.”
Elise pulled the red and green afghan off the couch and covered herself with it. Maude had crocheted it ten years ago. She put it out only at Christmastime.
“I understand why Dad volunteered.”
“Why?”
“Loyalty. He wants to help.”
Elise stayed silent. Loyalty or pride? Someone else could have gone.
“He said volunteering doesn’t mean he’s not loyal to us.”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re mad at him. I think you blame him for this, and I think you take your back pills to escape, to hide.”
Elise wrapped the afghan tight and stood. She wanted to go back to bed.
“Don’t blame him, Mom. It doesn’t help. It’s like he’s gone and you’re not here either.”
Elise was sitting at the table, numbly staring at the newspaper, when her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her robe pocket.
“Merry Christmas.”
She imagined him standing in front of the field hospital, sand blowing around his face, his beret pulled down on his forehead. Or would he wear a helmet? She sighed. “That was yesterday.”
“Merry day after Christmas. How was it?”
“Fine,” she said, annoyed with his cheery voice. “Where are you?”
“In my barracks. Do you feel better?”
“A little.”
“Mom!” Michael hurried into the breakfast nook. “Can I go to Reid’s?” His curls were mashed on one side of his head.
“It’s Dad.” She put her hand over the receiver. “Wait a minute.”
The doorbell rang. “Michael, get the door.”
“Is everything okay?” Ted asked.
“Fine. How are you? How was Christmas in Iraq?”
“I miss you guys.”
Elise was silent.
“Are you punishing me?”
“Mom, Rebekah is here.”
Elise changed the subject. “Mark said that he asked you about volunteering.”
“Mom! Rebekah is here.”
She nodded at Michael.
Ted sighed. “I’ll e-mail you. E-mail me back, okay? Have Mark show you how to use instant messaging. If I’m on, we can talk back and forth.”
“Does that work?”
“I instant messaged with Mark for a while last night. It’s not the same as talking on the phone but better than e-mail.”
“I’ll try it.”
“Elise, I love you.”
“I love you too.” She did, really she did.
“Mom.” Michael’s face contorted.
“I’ll come back later.” Rebekah stood in the dining room.
“I’m off the phone.” Elise wiped her hands on her robe.
“I was worried about you.” Rebekah stepped forward. “Are you coming to the shop today?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do the boys want to hang out at the house? Patrick and my parents are there. Mark can ride with Pepper. Reid got a new computer that he would love to show Michael.”
“Please, Mom.” Michael tugged on the sleeve of her robe.
Elise shook her head.
“Mom,” Michael groaned and disappeared into the family room.
“What’s wrong?” Rebekah shoved her hands into her brown corduroy coat.
“My back hurts.”
“Patrick could come get them.” Rebekah smiled.
Elise shook her head. “Thanks, though. I appreciate it.”
Rebekah crossed her arms. “Okay. Hey, new topic. I felt horrible about Mark bringing up your blood type.”
Elise shrugged. How much should she try to explain? “Mark went through my deleted e-mails, trying to find something from Ted about volunteering, and he came across one about blood types.”
“So you e-mailed Ted about your blood type?”
“No. Michael had. Before he knew he had to be eighteen, he was hoping he could donate a kidney to Pepper.”
“That’s sweet.” Rebekah averted her eyes. “Come by the shop. Sandi will be there. I’m having an after-Christmas sale.”
Elise tried to smile. “I’ll see.” She knew she wouldn’t. What did Rebekah think of her? What would the other women think? “Well, thanks for coming by. Tell everyone hello if I don’t make it to the shop.” She immediately regretted saying that. She didn’t want anyone to mention her name.
Rebekah opened the door and then turned. “Please, Elise, let me know what I can do to help.”
Elise nodded, the cords in her neck taut. “Thanks.” This would be a lot easier if Rebekah weren’t being so nice.
“Let’s go to Seattle,” Elise said at dinnertime. She always sat at the head of the table with the boys on either side when Ted was gone.
“For good?” Mark slurped his minestrone soup.
“No. To visit.”
“I have basketball practice.” Michael pushed his bowl toward the center of the table.
“You do?”
“Wednesday and Friday.”
That pretty much took up the entire week. “Can you miss?”
“I don’t want to miss.” Michael stood. “Besides, wouldn’t driving that far be bad for your back?” He picked up his dishes and headed for the kitchen.
Elise ignored the fact that he hadn’t asked to be excused.
Mark grabbed another piece of bread. “Maybe he could stay at Reid’s.”
Elise shook her head. “He’s right. That’s too far for me to drive.” She didn’t want Michael to stay at Rebekah’s. They all needed a break from each other. Besides, she didn’t want to owe Rebekah any favors.
She stood and shuffled to the kitchen. Maybe she couldn’t go to Seattle, but she needed to get out of Forest Falls sometime soon. She had a bad case of cabin fever. “Michael,” she called down the hall, “it’s your turn to do the dishes.”
He didn’t answer.
“Michael.”
He stormed out of the family room to the middle of the hall, waving his hands. “That’s what I hate about living here.”
“What?” Elise crossed her arms. “Doing the dishes?”
“Everything. The chores. Not being able to go anywhere.”
“What do you mean? Mark and I want to go to Seattle. You’re the one with basketball practice.”
“All I want to do is go out to Reid’s.”
Elise leaned against the wall. “Michael, they have company. We can’t go barging in.”
“No. It has nothing to do with them having company. It only has to do with you.” Michael slammed the family-room door.
Elise headed up the hall and back to the kitchen, avoiding Mark’s smirk.