“Yes, Mom, I'm ready. Dr. Doyle agrees and I promise I’ll still come home and let you know if anything happens,” I try to reassure her.
“Well, good. I'm proud of you, Noah,” she says with a slight smile, proving she genuinely believes me.
My phone buzzes on the table with a text from Ollie:
Ollie: Hi Good Morning Merry Christmas! I leave in the morning.
Which is followed by a plethora of crying face emojis. I feel the disappointment wash over me, but I know she’s only a few hours away and we’ll plan a time soon to see each other, whether I come out to the city or she comes home for a weekend. However, the idea of not knowing when, where, or how that will all happen is terrifying.
I finally have her back in my life and it feels like she’s running away again. At least I know I have something to keep my mind busy now besides sitting at home with Bec.
“I can get the keys in the morning. I'm going to start the renovations tomorrow, kicking it off with a fresh coat of paint,” I tell Mom, trying to hide the disappointment in my face and voice.
“Well then, we better get you packed and ready. I’ll get some food ready to send over with you in the morning.” I’ve always had an amazing mom, she may not have been the most present after Dad died, but there has never any doubt in her love for her children.
“Thanks, Mom, I'm going to get some clothes packed. I doubt it’ll be livable tomorrow, but some progress is progress,” I say as I walk into my old bedroom.
Chapter 22
Noah
Whilepackingabagof clothes and the desk objects for the new house I find a small tin box tucked into the top drawer of my desk. I remember unpacking this when I first got home two weeks ago and stashing it somewhere out of sight out of mind. Opening the small tin, I unfold the letter, dropping the dog tags from the inside onto the white oak desk.
Kneland,
If you’re reading this, then you know what it means. That doesn’t mean you get to blame yourself for this, for me. There is nothing you could have done to change the outcome.
This is typically when I stop reading, throw the letter back into the box, and tuck it far away. It has been six months since the ambush, the gunfire, and Jarred’s death. It took me four of those months to even read past this part, which I have only done one other time, aside from today.
Jarred was my best friend and brother, he was family. He never had a family of his own, so he devoted all of his time and energy to the Army. Lived, breathed, and died for the US Army. We were the closest thing he had to a home, a support system, and everything in between. He was able to travel home on leave with me a few times and being a southern boy visiting the middle of nowhere Wisconsin was quite comical. He had never seen snow until he came home one year right after Christmas. That was also the first time he learned about the history of Olivia and me, only two months after Oklahoma and two weeks before we left for our first deployment.
I will never forget the look on Carter’s face when Jarred and I walked into Fishy’s that night, already feeling the Jameson we had at home, laughing and being a little rambunctious. I have known Cole and Carter forever, and while Carter and I were friends, it was nothing like the friendship I shared with Cole. Carter always took Ollie’s side and would protect his family until the day he died.
We’re walking into the bar. I’m laughing with Jarred about some pointless joke, and turn to see Carter sitting at the bar. He turns to see who’s walking into the bar, obviously waiting for someone but when he realizes who it is, his entire demeanor changes. He’s always been the tallest and slimmest of the siblings, but tonight he looks mean, like one of those men waiting at a biker bar for someone to walk in so they can rock their world.
"Kneland, why does that guy look like he’s going to murder you?” Jarred asks cautiously, but also with a hint of intrigue.
I didn’t know this at the time but Jarred was a fighter, he was the person at the bar we always had to back, which was ironic considering he probably the biggest, most built and gruff looking out of us all. Which always ended in people believing he was all talk and no action. He always stood tall, chest proud, and when he let his facial hair grow, he looked even more intimidating. Thankfully, he wasn’t feeling particularly feisty that night.
“That’s Ollie’s brother,” I say, I haven’t spoken to Olivia or her brother since that night, and I knew there was not a part of me ready to face Carter.
Carter sets his beer bottle on the bar and pushes his stool back, getting up from the bar and walking toward us and the high-top table I snagged at the far side of the building. He stalks menacingly to our table and stops directly in front of me. He stands at six-five, so he makes my six-feet look and feel small. He stands there silently for what feels like an eternity, before jamming a finger into my chest, uttering, “You fucked up” before bumping into my shoulder and stalking out the side door of the bar.
"Man, what the hell was that?” Jarred demands. “I know something happened with Olivia when she didn’t come back to the hotel after graduation, but what was it?”
“Nothing,” I reply, not wanting to have to relive that night any more than I already am.
"If I'm going to have to defend your ass at a bar against that man, I need to know why” Jarred replies with a slight chuckle. This was a huge turning point for our friendship. Yeah, we went through basic training together, and we ended up going on the same deployment and squad, but sharing our personal lives never came up. They hadn’t been important, I knew he didn’t have anyone to call family and that was it. But having someone willing to back you up against a total stranger, when you deserved what's coming to you, that’s another type of friendship.
“We need more Jameson for that story,” I say.
Jarred goes up to the bar and orders four Jameson shots for us and once he gets back to the table, I tell him everything.
Putting down the last shot glass, I felt a sense of relief, sharing with someone what happened and the truth behind why it happened.
“You’re an idiot. Noble as hell. But an idiot,” Jarred says after a brief pause.
I have no words for his statement. He didn’t say anything I didn’t already know.
