He smiled just a little and sat slightly taller. “I see.” Then he turned and looked at the motivational poster on his wall, though I was pretty sure it wasn’t the brightly colored inspirational tree he was thinking about.
“You know,” he finally said. “This life has a way of sucking the dreams right out of our wives.”
I frowned. “Sir?”
“They get dragged all over the country…or the world even, for us. Their jobs are disrupted. They don’t get hired because the employers know they’ve got them for two, maybe four years at best. While we’re focused on our changing schedules and the needs of the mission, their emotional and physical needs are often the first things to get overlooked. And they don’t say much because they don’t want to distract us from the mission. But as we move out onto the flightline, they move farther and farther from the world they thought this would be.”
I wanted to speak, but no words would come. I knew a lot of this, of course. In theory. Military divorces were higher than they were in the civilian world, or so I’d heard in some statistic. But I’d never heard it put this way.
“My wife nearly hit a breaking point five years after we were married.” He gazed down at the woman in the silver picture frame on his desk. “Nearly cost me my marriage until I realized what she was missing thanks to this life.”
“I…I don’t understand, sir. If that’s the way of the military life, should I just give up now?”
His eyes looked like they were about to pop. “Give up? Allen, are you listening to me? You’ve got to fight, boy! But you can’t just stop once the ring is on her finger. You’ve got to keep fighting. In war and out, you have to fight for your marriage. You have to prove to that woman, even when you’re spent and torn, that you still want her. That she’s worth fighting for. And if that means roses when money’s tight, you find some cheap roses and skip out on your bar time with the boys that week. Or pick wildflowers on the way home. If it means therapy, you go to therapy.”
“But if she’s dating—”
“If she’s dating him, you’d better make your move before he offers up his own ring.” He shrugged. “If she’s not, you still make your move.”
“How?” I stared up at him, too scared to hope that he might be telling the truth. That there might still be a chance in this race for me not to come in last and limping. Then I gave a laugh that sounded slightly hysterical. “I’ve got my ex-fiancée at my house, waiting for an answer, and Jessie—”
“Hold on, do you love your ex-fiancée?”
I took a deep breath. Did I? Had I felt that same old flame I had a year ago?
“No, sir.”
“Then get rid of her, and go after your true girl.” He leaned forward. “Convince her you’ll do everything in your power to make her dreams come true. And then do it.”
I sighed. “She wants a master’s from UCA. She wants to be near her parents. Her mom has cancer. She wants to be at her church and school and everything else she loves here. I can’t change any of that.”
“I never said it would be easy. Sometimes you’ve just got to get creative.” He looked back down at the picture. “They fall for the knight in dress blues, not understanding that the knight is at the behest of the king.”
I traced the stitching on the edge of my sleeve.
“But what many don’t understand,” he continued, “is that happiness is possible for both of you if you trust God and serve one another before yourselves.” He paused. “Don’t tell HR I said that. My inspirational lectures aren’t supposed to be too personal.”
I grinned. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
A clap of thunder exploded outside, and Barnes got up to look through the blinds. “Didn’t I hear you say earlier that you’re supposed to get your sister from school today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you’d better get going soon if that’s the case,” he said, frowning at the window. “Looks like it’s going to get nasty outside real fast.”
I was still chewing on his little speech when I got in the car and started home. I was so lost in my thoughts that several minutes passed before I realized that the sky had turned pea green. Hail started just as I made this discovery, and within thirty seconds, I knew I wouldn’t make it home. My visibility was nearly zero, and it would be nothing for my truck to hit someone else who had stopped for the storm as well. By the time I reached a recognizable building, my heart was in my throat, and my breathing was accompanied by prayers as quick as the short bursts of breath I was taking in and out, like my lungs could no longer expand or contract the right way.
I needed to get to Jade’s school. I was supposed to pick her up today, and I knew how much she hated storms. But I couldn’t reach it. Not in this. I would have to wait until it passed, or I would never reach the school at all.
I parked the best I could in front of some random building and decided to make a run for it. I didn’t want to face this storm unsheltered. Hail the size of marbles pelted my skin as I slammed the truck door shut and ran toward the building, slipping twice along the way. Just as I was pulling the door open, a bolt of lightning struck something on the other side of the street. I stumbled inside, but before I could get my bearings, a woman grabbed me by the shoulder and hauled me to my feet.
“Come on!” she shouted over the thunder. “In here!”
I followed her, still somewhat disoriented, into the Shelter In Place room. Seven other people were already inside, staring at the walls and the ceiling uneasily.
“Everyone,” the woman ordered as she closed the door, “get down on the floor and put your hands on your head! Why are you all staring like that’s going to help? Come on, people, we trained for this!”
I did as she said, not needing a reminder, feeling sick to my stomach as I pictured Jade, screaming in terror as the rumbling of a train sounded through the air. But as the lightning grew faster and louder, all I could do was pray.
