Dear Nate {Dear #1}

-Chapter 10-

            “I don’t blame him,” I say. “I just hate getting my hopes up and him not calling. It sucks Mom. I will give anything for Dad to be here.” My voice rising as I finish talking.

            Mom has tears in her eyes. “You don’t think I miss him too? That when he calls saying he can’t video chat I don’t feel like crap? Because I do Nate. I want your father back here, with us, probably more than you.”

            “Mom I’m sorry,” I say, but she isn’t done speaking.

            “Did you know your father and I were going to try for another child when you were little?” she asks and I shake my head. She looks down, tearing falling onto her cheeks. “I was so excited to have another child, maybe even a girl. I was happy to be giving you a sibling, a friend, but one day your father comes home and doesn’t even look at me. I was scared, I was thinking the worst.

            That night, when I confronted him, he told me flat out he’s joining the military and he thinks he’ll be deployed within a few months. Nate, I swore a part of my heart shattered. My dream was to have two kids, maybe more. Your father knew that and that’s why he tried keeping him going into the military a secret for as long as possible. When he told me, I walked out and cried myself to sleep.

            Sometimes, I wonder if we can still try for another child, but then I realize Dad will just be going back to duty if he did get leave. Sometimes I wonder if the military is his top priority and I hate thinking that, but I think it’s true. I mean, when was the last time he was home Nate?” She looks up at me, wanting me to answer.

            “Two years,” I mumble.

            “Exactly. However, I am grateful he is still able to come home—alive.” Mom takes a seat at the counter across from me, wiping her tears with a napkin. “I just want him home for good Nate, but I don’t know if that will happen.”

            I get up from my seat and hug her. I wish my dad can come home for good too. If not for me, then for Mom.

♣

            The whole day passed quickly. Mom and I went to a movie then dinner before coming back to the house. I feel bad for bringing up Dad at breakfast because it seemed to have dampened Mom’s mood. I know she’s waiting for a call to say Dad can’t video chat tonight, but I hope he does. Mom needs to see his face and know he’s alright.

            I bring my backpack into the living room and sit on the couch. I unzip the bag and take out my folder to do homework. I take out a pen next, glancing at the clock as I sit up. 6:45. I can hear Mom upstairs in her room, probably making sure it is clean enough for when Dad video chats.

            I start my homework and try to focus the best I can. I find myself at times clicking the pen, just watching the time. I shake back my attention and continue my assignment.

            As I finish up, I put the paper back in my folder before putting in back in my backpack. I set my backpack by the front door before looking at the time—7:10. I look down in frustration, letting out a deep breath through my nostrils. I climb the stairs to my parent’s room. When I reach the door, I can see Mom sitting on the bed, twirling her thumbs, her leg bouncing up and down.