going through my closet sorting out the clothes that I wanted to keep. I'm trying to figure out what I want to do with Jason's. I pulled out one of his sweatshirts, but I've packed up everything else. Not having the heart to get rid of it just yet, I will put them all into storage.
Somehow, I will find a way to use them for our child. Whether it's making them into a blanket or some other item, I’ll make it work because I want our child to feel as close to their father as possible. Needing a break, I head to Jason's office to see what progress Storm is making.
But I stop at the doorway as I just can't bring myself to walk into the room. I find Storm sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, staring at a framed photo in his hand.
"What's that?" I ask, startling him.
He looks over at me, giving me a sad smile, and for the first time since he's gotten here, I can see some emotion on his face.
"I've never seen this picture," he says, showing it to me.
It's a photo I took of Jason and him when they got back from their second deployment together. Jason had been deployed for his twenty-first birthday, so Storm took him out to a bar and ordered some crazy shots. The photo is of them throwing back the first one. Jason's first legal drink.
"He loved that photo, and I snapped it completely randomly. I was just thinking to capture the moment. He'd want you to have that. To remember the good times." I try to smile, but I can tell that it's wobbly. "And don't be afraid to show emotion around me. Actually, it will be nice knowing I'm not the only one constantly on the verge of tears."
Then I turn to go back to my room.
"Hey, River?" he says.
At his words, I stop to look at him.
"You're not the only one constantly wanting to cry. But I refuse to break down here, not like this. I'll hold it together until we get home, back to Whiskey River, where I know I'm safe, and I know you're safe."
Like with many of his statements, I never know what to say, so I just nod and head back to my room. I pull down a few boxes that are on the top shelf in the bedroom, boxes that hold Christmas, fall, and Halloween decorations.
Setting them all on the bed, I open them up one by one. Most of these are things that I would pick up when I was shopping at the exchange or off the clearance rack to use the following year.
None of the decorations hold much appeal anymore except for the box that has our Christmas decorations. Mixed in with our Christmas decorations are ornaments that we bought, celebrating different parts of our relationship. Some of them start all the way back to when we were just friends in high school.
The letter A is from the year that I got all straight A's. The night sky ornament goes with our prom theme, which was a night under the stars, and it’s also the night we went to prom together. I even made an ornament with the dried rose petals he scattered on the bed the first time that we slept together. There's one from our wedding and every Christmas from the time we started dating. Every time he was deployed from each place he visited, he brought back an ornament.
These I want to keep. If nothing else, my child deserves these. I couldn’t care less about the Christmas lights that would take us all day to untangle, and he would curse up a storm putting up. Or the Christmas tree that we never could get to look full enough after being in a box all year.
Carefully I pack the ornaments up and then take the boxes of the decorations and set them in the pile in the living room of items that will go to donation. Storm tried to talk me into doing a yard sale to try to make some money off of this stuff, but I don't think I would physically be able to sell it to someone. Donating it and knowing that it will do some good to help the local Children's Hospital makes it a lot easier to give away.
When I’m back to my room pulling out a few boxes from under my bed, I hear a knock at the front door. I freeze in absolute terror.
The last time there was a knock on the door, two men in uniform informed me that my husband was dead.
"You are expecting anyone?" Storm asks as he steps into the hallway. I just shake my head.
He goes to the front door, and I follow him, stepping out of the hallway just far enough so I can see the door. He looks back at me before he opens it. There’s a man in uniform standing next to a man in jeans and a T-shirt. Neither of which I've ever seen before.
"We are looking for River Owens., the man in uniform says.
Storm doesn't budge, but I take a step forward to get a better look at their faces. Though neither of them looks familiar.
"That's me," I say, while trying to look around Storm who still hasn't moved out of their way.
"We're here to deliver this summons to you." The one not in uniform says, and that seems to capture Storm's attention. He snatches the envelope out of the man's hand.
"Anything else?" he growls.
The two men just stand there shaking their heads. So he slams the door in their face before turning and walking over to me.
Taking my hand, he leads me to the couch and sits down next to me, handing me the envelope. My hands are shaking so much that he takes the envelope back and opens it before handing it back to me.
Pulling it out, we read the paper together. The paper informs me that there is a court order for me to submit to a DNA test per Jason's parent's demands. A piercing chill starts scrolling up my spine, and my chest feels heavy. Every breath feels like a weight that is pulling me deeper into a dark hole.
I grip my chest, trying to ease the pressure as my vision starts to narrow. There's a ringing in my ears, and I can't hear anything around me other than my heart racing like a wild animal. No matter how much I try, I can't seem to get more than a short gasp of air.
Storm is on his knees in front of me, gripping my arms. His mouth is moving, but I hear nothing. All I can do is grip onto him for dear life as a piercing panic takes over me. I've never felt anything like this in my life.
Jason's parents don't think the child is his. The fact they think so low of me that I would cheat on their son fills me with nothing but disgust. It feels like ice is running through my veins, and I start to shake uncontrollably and shiver as the room closes in on me.
Storm grips my face with his hands and angles my head as he locks eyes with me. Something about the connection seems to slowly push the ice back and break the chains which were stopping me from breathing.
"Take a deep breath with me," Storm says.
Matching my breathing to his, I focus on nothing but my breath.
While still taking deep breaths, he pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around me. Then he rubs his hands up and down my arms like he's trying to warm me up. Once I can breathe again, there's only one emotion that takes over, and I start to cry uncontrollably.
Storm sits on the couch beside me and pulls me into his arms. He tucks my head into his neck and lets me sob. He doesn't tell me to stop crying or that everything's going to be okay. Instead, he just rubs my back and lets me get it all out. This is really the first time that I've cried since the funeral a few days ago.
I don't know how long we sit there, but I don't want to move. Eventually, I find his hand gently rubbing my back, which helps me stop crying.
"This is all my fault," I say without even lifting my head.
"There is no way this is your fault," Storm says.
It sounds like he's shocked I could even think something like that.
"No, it is. When I found out about Jason, I wrote them. I thought maybe they'd want to be at the funeral. That just maybe they want to be in their grandkid's life. I don't know what I was thinking. Even though I've never interacted with them much, Jason's told me all about them. I guess I was hoping against hope for even the slightest bit of a family."
Storm doesn't have to say anything. It's as clear as day that there's a reason Jason didn't have contact with his parents anymore. They weren't thrilled with him joining the military, but they completely cut him out of his life when he married me. I don't feel guilty about it because Jason made it very clear that he loved me, and when he promised to always take care of me, I knew he meant it. Besides, I may not have a family, but I do know I could never turn my back on my child based on who they loved.
Then the thought hits me, and I can feel the panic starting back up again.
"Is a DNA test even safe for the baby right now?" I ask. All I know of DNA tests are the cheek swabs. How are they going to get to the baby's cheek without puncturing the placenta?
"Hey, hey, calm down. Deep breaths. There's no need to have another panic attack over this. I don't think the court would have ordered it if it wasn't safe. But let's do a little research before we head down that road, okay?" Storm wraps one arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his side while using the other hand to take out his phone and research.
Completely worn out, I rest my head on his shoulder and read the articles on his phone that he keeps pulling up.
"So, it looks like to do the DNA test all they need is a simple blood draw from you," Storm says. Then he goes on to explain some science stuff about floating fetal DNA and how the whole thing works. Right now, all this information just makes my head spin.
"You're absolutely certain that this is safe for the baby?" I ask because I'm in no head space for this.
"Absolutely! Otherwise, I'd help you fight it. But I am going to make a suggestion. It says you need to report within the next seven days for this test. I think we should do the test and then leave the next morning," he says.
Even though he doesn't give his reasonings, they hang in the air. Because we both know if Jason's parents are asking for a DNA test, something is brewing.
Especially since there has been zero contact from them before. This means they've pulled some strings from some of their wealthy influential connections to get this pushed through.
I don't answer right away because even though I know he's right, that means I've got to get my ducks in a row, and I'm already making plans.
"I have a four-bedroom cabin and plenty of room. Let's just pack everything up, and you can sort it all out there. We need to get you out of here."
"After I do the test, we can leave. Why don't you go ahead and get this furniture listed? I don't want to take the furniture as I have no need for it. The big thing is finding the paperwork I need in Jason's office. All the rest of this can be packed up to be gone through later. But I don't think I can step foot in that office," I say, finally sitting up to look at Storm.
"I will handle the office. Pack up what you want to take to the cabin. Keep all that in your room. Anything else that is in the living room will go into storage. What about the truck?"
"Let's take it. I'll drive it."
"All right. Let me call the moving company and see about picking up everything early. I'll make the arrangements. You just start packing up your stuff. Can I take this and read over it a bit more?" he asks, holding the paper with the order for the DNA test.
Nodding, I go back to my room, and he heads to the office. But for the life of me, I have no idea what more he could get from that letter. But I know Storm, he always has a plan.