Waiting for Her Soldier (4 page)

I read the letter three times before the full force of it finally hit me. I’d be seeing Darren in person. In less than two months, he’d be standing right before my very eyes. There was so much to do. My mind raced: how much weight could I lose in two months? I’d need to start dieting and exercising immediately, but where could I find the time? I was at the shop over ten hours every weekday, and recently I’d found myself going in on the weekend, too. The fact was that the place just couldn’t run without me. Ugh, I’d have to think of something. I needed to look good for Darren.

But maybe I was kidding myself. There was a good chance he didn’t even feel the same way as I did. But there was something in his letters that gave my heart hope, some subtle tone to the things he said, a secret meaning that only I could detect. On the other hand, maybe I was delusional, maybe I was reading unintended meanings into his letters. But I wanted him so badly, I couldn’t help but hope part of him felt exactly the way I did. I couldn’t help myself from imagining a future that involved us being together.

So I bought a treadmill and started running every day before and after work. I stopped snacking at the shop. I only ate salad and Greek yogurt, but I wasn’t seeing any results. Still, I told myself I had to stick with the diet and workout routine. I just thought about what I really wanted: Darren. I was doing it for him, and even though it was painful, I knew I could stick with it, as long as I kept my eye on the prize.

Then I got another letter that turned my entire world upside down.

My cheeks were wet with tears. I was crying, panicked with thoughts of what had happened to Darren. Paul had been too vague in his letter for me to really know if Darren would turn out ok. Clearly, Darren was conscious, or Paul wouldn’t have known all those things about me. But would he be able to walk? Would he be missing an arm or something? Dammit, I had to find out if he was alright.

I grabbed my phone and my laptop and started calling every number I could find, starting with a recruiting station and then the military hospital located upstate. I was put through to the head nurse who confirmed that a Sgt. Henderson was scheduled to be transported to the facility sometime later next week.

“Do you know what happened to him?” I asked meekly over the phone, trying to be strong and stifle my soft weeping.

“It says here he suffered a shrapnel wound. I don’t know anything beyond that,” said the nurse.

“How serious is that?”

“Depends on the case, ma’am.”

“Well, in the other cases you’ve seen, how bad were they?”

“Pretty bad, but like I said, each case is different. It was most likely a roadside bomb, the extent of the damage will depend on how close he was to the blast.”

I was silent on the other end of the phone, not knowing what to make of this woman’s words.

“Mrs. Henderson, are you still there?”

“Uh…” I was confused until I realized I’d told her earlier that I was Darren’s wife; it was the only way they would give me any sort of information. “Yes, yes I’m still here.”

“Do you have any more questions? We’re very busy here, ma’am, so if you’re done I’d like to be getting back to my job.”

“No, that’s all I needed to know,” I said hesitantly, trying to think if there was anything I’d forgotten to ask.

“Goodbye, ma’am.”

The phone clicked as the nurse hung up before I could even say goodbye.

For the next few days I was lost, not knowing what I should do or who I might call. I was waiting to hear back from the hospital to tell me Darren had arrived and that I could come see him. The worst part was that I felt so powerless, there was nothing I could do to help Darren. I had no idea what to do with myself, so I did the only thing I could: I started working extra hours at the shop and preparing for Thanksgiving which was right around the corner.

All my exercise plans went completely out the window. I worked over eighty hours that week, came home exhausted and went immediately to bed. I was trying to forget about Darren, but it was impossible. The stress and worry were really getting to me. I was restless at night, barely getting any sleep despite my long and hectic workdays. Something had to give. When would I hear news about Darren? Had the hospital forgotten to contact me?

But even if the hospital had forgotten to call me, that wouldn’t have mattered. I called three to four times every day to check in, just waiting for the precious news that he was home. Even though I knew the damage had already been done and that he was in the care of medical professionals, a part of me knew I wouldn’t feel content until he was under my watch, until I could lay my own eyes on him and know he would be ok. How long would I have to wait for that solace?

Finally, I got the call as I left the shop late on a Saturday night. Darren would be admitted to the hospital the following morning, less than a week before Thanksgiving. I had thought that getting this call would bring relief, but I only felt more nervous. I hadn’t seen Darren in a long time, how would things go between us? Would things be awkward between Darren and I? I knew what Paul had told me about Darren, but I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it for myself. But what if he rejected me?

That night I drove three and a half hours upstate to the town where the military hospital was. I booked a room at a small motel in the area, wanting to get to the hospital first thing in the morning so I could be there to greet Darren. He was a hero, and he deserved a hero’s welcome.

As I lay there in the dingy motel bed, I wondered how I had ever thought that there was even a slim chance of getting some sleep that night. I was far too excited, nervous and anxious for the following day to come. I tried closing my eyes, but my thoughts all converged on Darren and my heart raced, forcing me to get up and walk around the room.