He Won't Be Coming Home

I awoke one morning to the sounds of crying, but it wasn't just any crying. It was little Amy, down the hall in Sarah's room. Groaning, I rolled over, letting go of Matt's pillow that was clutched in my arms as I sat up. The time on the clock said only quarter to six, and the sky was barely starting to brighten outside due to the winter that would soon be approaching.

I sighed deeply to myself as I let my head fall back, my eyes closing for a moment as I waited for Sarah to awake from her slumber and tend to Amy. But the baby continued crying, getting louder and louder as no one came to her aid.

Picking my head up, I ran my hands over my face and groaned before getting out of the confines of my warm bed. I traveled down the hall until I approached Sarah's room. The door was shut, so I quietly rapped my knuckles against the wood, just in case Sarah was in fact asleep.

"Sarah?" I called quietly as I opened the door, poking my head into her room. She was still in bed, her body unmoving save for the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Figuring she was just in a deep sleep, I stepped farther into the room but as I got closer to the bed, I realized that Sarah's eyes were open as she stared at the wall.

"Sarah... Don't you think you should get up and take care of Amy? She's been crying for at least ten minutes now..." I said tiredly as I looked from Sarah to Amy, who had grown quite a bit in the past month and a half that she'd been alive.

Looking back at Sarah, she was unresponsive, not even answering me as I questioned her.

"Sarah?" I asked again, and her eyes flashed up at me, finally acknowledging my presence. When she still didn't answer or make any attempt of getting up out of bed, I sighed deeply. Seeing the video of Zack on TV the other day had pushed her even further into her depressed state. I understood that she had every right to feel the way she did about Zacky and his death, but I was eventually going to have to draw the line somewhere. Sarah had responsibilities now; she had to take care of their child.

I walked silently over to Amy's crib where she was sprawled out on her back, her face red and contorted, her mouth open wide as she continued her screaming cries. I lifted her up into my arms and quietly began to rock her, moving back into the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen where I attempted to one-handedly prepare a bottle of formula for her.

I sat down in the living room, the light of the rising sun just barely beginning to show, and gave Amy the bottle. It silenced her, and I sat there with her in my arms for some time until she was finished.

I burped her afterward and after a few solid successful minutes, laid her in my arms again, rocking her gently until her eyes closed. Looking down on her sleeping form in my eyes, I thought back to when Alex was just a little baby, and how much of a challenge it was for Matt and me to take care of him, what with Alex being our first child and all. It was a challenge indeed, but it would seem like the simplest task once the new baby came. Being about five and a half months along now, I had to begin preparing myself. I already knew it was going to be a little boy, just like Alex, but it was going to be so much harder this time around because Matt wouldn't be there to help me whenever I just couldn't handle the stress or when he just wanted to.

About fifteen minutes after Amy had fallen asleep I quietly and slowly got up, carrying her back to the stairs and into Sarah's room. Sarah hadn't moved since I had left with Amy, but I almost wasn't expecting her to. After I placed Amy back in her crib I knew that I was too awake to try and go back to sleep, so I got set on cooking breakfast before Alex woke up, and once he was ready to go I drove him to school.

The next few days were spent mostly taking care of Amy whenever I needed to, making sure Sarah was still alive because shed rarely ever came out of her room, and taking care of Alex. He didn't much like the fact that not all of my time was spent on him, like it always used to be. He was constantly fighting for my attention and I wondered if that was how he was going to be once his brother was born. IF so, it was only going to make things harder for me.

I was sat in the chair in the living room with Amy asleep in my arms, watching music videos with the volume on low when I heard the front door open and close, signaling Alex was home from school for the day.

"Mom!" he shouted as he ran into the living room and threw his bad down. I quickly shushed him and made sure Amy was still sleeping before looking back up at him as he stood at my legs, his hands on my knees.

"Sweetie, you gotta talk quiet or you'll wake up Amy," I said quietly to him.

"Mom, school was so much fun today! We got to play-" he said, getting progressively louder until I finally cut him off.

"Alex, whisper!" I scolded, and he paused for a second before starting again in a whisper.

"We got to play with clay during art!" he whispered excitedly, his eyes sparkling with life.

"Oh yeah?" I asked with a smile, and he nodded. "What did you make?"

"I made you and me and Daddy," he smiled again.

"Oooh, I bet you did a great job," I commended as I leaned forward as best as I could with Amy asleep in my arms and my protruding belly and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey sweetie, do you think you could go out to the mailbox and see if we got anything today?" I asked and Alex nodded before he ran to the door, going back outside to the mailbox that was just few feet from the front door. I stood and took Amy upstairs to lay her down, hearing the shower running and knowing Sarah must have been washing up due to her empty bed. When I came back downstairs, Alex had the mail in hand as he sat on the couch.

"Did we get anything good?" I questioned as I entered the living room.

"Yeah! Daddy sent us a letter!" he squealed. He had easily learned how to detect his father's handwriting on the envelopes that he would pick out which ones were from Matt. I sat down next to him on the couch, carefully ripping open the envelope to see the letter waiting inside.

Dear Jayvee,

It's really hard to believe, even now, that Zacky is really gone. I know that it's been a month already, but it just seemed like one of those things that would never happen, you know? I never dreamed setting foot into this mess that we would lose him, and it still just doesn't seem right. It'll never seem right.

Already it's like the army has filled Zacky's position. It's like we're all just pawns for the government to throw around and dispose of as they please, easily replaceable by the next waiting contestant. The bunk next to mine that he slept in every night has been filled by a man named Tom O'Halloran. He's a good guy and all, but it still just doesn't seem right for someone to take up residence there so soon. I hate it.

I wish that I was home. I wish that I was there with you to talk to about all of this, because just writing it down on paper isn't good enough. I just need someone to talk to about this. And I know that I'm living with a whole room full of men who knew Zacky, though certainly not as well as I did, and that I could talk to any of them about it. But it just feels like I'm surrounded by plenty of people who would listen to what I have to say, but none that will actually hear me, actually understand the pain I'm going through. The only people whowould understand are all the people that are still there with you. And I'd give anything to be there with you all, right now.

I've been having another one of my dreams the past few nights. And every time, it's been of my return home to you. You'd think that it'd be a happy dream to have for once, but it's not. Because every morning I wake and I am still in this god forsaken desert land, thousands of miles away from you. It's gotten to the point where it's not as much of a shock to wake up and see that I am not home, but here in my bunk. I've actually started to expect waking up to this room full of soldiers, so much so that I'm afraid that when I am finally home and asleep in our bed, that I will wake up expecting to see the man sleeping in the bunk next to mine and not your beautiful face. And that thought scares me half to death.

I just want to come home. I'm hoping maybe my wish will be granted and I will return to you before you go into labor, but it's quite a stretch. I want to be there for the birth of our second child, and I will be very upset and disappointed if I can't have just that one thing. It's been six months already that I've not been with you, and I think that's the longest we've ever had to go for the many years that we have been together.

Just know that I love you, and I think of you during the day and dream of you at night. I look forward to the day that I will be able to look into your eyes and hold you in my arms again.

Love,

Matt