But it was Emerson who grabbed it. “Scott!” she said.
“Uh-huh. No! You’re kidding me. Uh-huh.”
We were looking at her, gesturing for her to fill us in, but she put her finger in her ear and waved us away. “Oh my God, Scott. I can’t believe it.”
Was it a good “I can’t believe it” or a bad one? There was no way to tell.
It felt like hours, but I’m sure the phone call was less than two minutes. Then I heard Sloane’s phone ring. Then Jack’s.
And before Emerson could relay to us what Scott had said, Sloane flew out, wide-eyed, holding her phone. “They found him!” she screamed in a state that could only be described as manic.
At first, I thought she meant his body. We all stood motionless, afraid of what was going to happen next. “They found him. They found Adam. He’s alive.” She crouched down on the floor and started sobbing into her knees. “He’s coming home. Adam is coming home!”
I wasn’t sure I believed her. But I looked at Emerson, and her nod through her own tears confirmed what Sloane had said.
It was as if a thousand pounds I had carried around for months was lifted off me. I felt myself slide down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, face in my hands, crying.
“Look at my texts,” she said. “I have a picture.”
“Oh my God!” Caroline screamed. “It’s him. It’s Adam!” She turned the phone to the side. “He’s so damn thin.”
“Of course he’s thin,” Sloane said. “He’s a freaking prisoner of war.”
She stood up with purpose. “Oh my God. Scott is my favorite family member!”
“Scott is my favorite family member too!” I exclaimed.
Sloane looked around. She started sobbing with pure, utter relief. “I have to get to DC right now,” she said. “They’re bringing him to Walter Reed, and I have to be there.”
“Back up,” Caroline said. “When will he be there?”
Sloane crossed her arms. “Well, they’re taking him to Landstuhl for triage and then—”
“What on earth is Landstuhl?” Emerson asked.
“The hospital in Germany,” Sloane said impatiently, raising her voice.
“Do you want to go there?” I asked, trying to be helpful.
Sloane sighed. “They offered to fly me there, but by the time I get there, he’ll probably be leaving. This makes the most sense.”
We all stood there, silent and processing. Was this actually happening?
No one moved. Sloane clapped her hands and said, “Now!”
Three hours later, Sloane was kissing the boys good-bye inside the jet, with her bag slung over her shoulder. “Be so good for Gransley,” she said. Then she grinned. “I’m going to get Daddy.”
There was a part of me that was worried she was meeting Adam at the hospital and a part of me that wondered what that meant for him, for my daughter, and for their future. Even still, those might have been the sweetest words I had ever heard.
THIRTY-SEVEN
the meaning of life
sloane
July 18, 2017
Dear Sloane:
