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She shrugs. “I know, but you loved it.”
I follow the voices, leading me toward the backyard. I know what I’m going to find, and even though my head says I’m prepared, my heart isn’t. I know Ryley’s close, I can feel her. My hand rests on the handle of the sliding glass door. Ry’s hand comes down on top of mine, and she gives it a little tug.
“He’ll love you, Evan,” she says as she pushes open the door.
We step out onto the deck, and the laughter stops. Her mom spots me first and covers her mouth. I hate that she’s about to cry. When her arms wrap around me, her words are soft in my ears. “I’m so sorry, Evan. So very sorry.” I give her a squeeze and release her.
Her dad steps up to me and holds out his hand. A man of little emotion, it works for me. “You missed our fishing date.” I nod, again biting the inside of my cheek.
“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” A smile breaks out on his face as he pulls me into a hug. “Glad you’re home, son.”
“Me too.” Jensen Clarke is a man of few words and emotions so when he pulls away and hides his face from my view, I know he’s feeling the same as me. We’ve been cheated out of a lifetime of memories and for what, I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.
Ryley comes into view walking up the steps from the back yard. She’s holding the hand of my five-year-old son who isn’t the spitting image of me, but of his mother. This time, there’s no biting of the cheek because the tears are flowing freely down my face. EJ stands next to Ryley and stares at me. His eyes move all around as he takes me in. I crouch down to get a better look at him. EJ’s blue eyes shine against his dark, red hair.
“I know you,” he says, much to my surprise.
“Oh yeah?” I have to clear my throat to beat the frog that has taken up residence there.
“Yeah, you’re on my walls.”
I turn my attention to Ryley for confirmation, but her eyes are downcast. There’s a small hint of a smile forming; she’s trying to fight it. I’ve seen this look many times. She’s embarrassed, but she shouldn’t be. She was trying to preserve my memory. I get it. I just wish it never had to happen in the first place.
“I can’t wait to see your room,” I reply, hoping he understands that I want to see not only his bedroom, but also everything else he wants to show me.
“Mommy, is he the other Eban? You know the one I talk about in my prayers?”
I choke, and Carole sobs. Her hand quickly covers her mouth as Jensen pulls her into his arms. Ryley’s a trooper though; she’s holding it together perfectly. I, on the other hand, am shaking like a leaf.
“Yes, EJ, this is Evan.” That’s all she says, not that I’m expecting more but am hoping.
“That’s my name, too!” he says with a smile complete with a missing front tooth. Before I can say anything, a long, wet nose, followed by a larger head is thrust between us. EJ is knocked down, but laughs. I stagger, catching myself before I hit the deck.
“Deefur, knock it off,” EJ says, pushing his hair out of his face and standing back up. Deefur was just a pup when I bought him for Ryley. He’s a black lab and was purchased with the intent to train. I wanted Ryley to feel safe when I was gone. He was supposed to be the answer, not my brother.
“Dat’s my dog,” EJ giggles.
“I remember him when he was a puppy.”
“He’s really big now. Do you wanna see my room?”
Leave it to the five year old to change the subject and bring me back to the here and now.
THERE ARE MOMENTS IN my life that I have imagined: Evan holding my hand when I gave birth to EJ, meeting him at the end of the aisle, watching our son grow. Some of them I think of over and over again, but nothing could ever prepare me for seeing Evan and EJ standing side by side. When I was pregnant, I had to pretend that Evan’s hands were wrapped around me, cradling our child, or that his lips were pressing kisses along my growing stomach. These are all moments that I’ll never get back, at least not with EJ and likely never with Evan. I know Nate is a good father, but missing these things with Evan, knowing how much he wanted the baby growing in my belly at the time he was deployed, pains me that we’ve missed so much.
Standing here and watching father and son bond, even though they don’t realize that’s what they’re doing, is tearing me apart. Too much pain and agony has been created by someone we were all supposed to trust, and I’m not sure if there’s recourse. Even though my son has been brought up by a fantastic dad, he’s missed out on a chance to know what an amazing father Evan would’ve been to him.
I know I can change all that for EJ and for Evan too, but I don’t know how to do it without hurting anyone. The therapist is right: EJ’s young, he’ll understand. I know I have to tell him, if not for his sake, but for Evan’s. He has every right to know his son and be called Dad. He’s earned it.
The loud clank of the barbeque lid being shut by my father brings me back to the here and now. Evan is crouched down, talking to EJ whose arms are flying madly in the air. EJ’s so animated with everything it’s hard for me to tell what kind of story he’s sharing. I angle myself just right so I can study Evan’s face while he listens to EJ. The smile Evan is sporting is reminiscent to the one he had when I told him I was pregnant. We were so happy I didn’t think anything would shatter the bubble we were living in. I was wrong, and hope I can attempt to mend the fixable.
Evan laughs at EJ who in turn bends over and gives him a full belly laugh. My dad and mom chuckle behind me, and I hear my mom sigh. She and I have spent countless nights cuddled together on the couch watching home movies of Evan just so I could hear his voice, so that the baby I was carrying could hear him speak. Even after he died, I didn’t stop. Before the news came that he wasn’t coming home, I would tell Lois and Frannie all the things we were going to do when he was back. They were annoyed with me, always yammering on, until they weren’t because I needed those pretend memories to keep me going. I needed to see in my mind and feel in my heart the way Evan would’ve held his son, the way he would’ve coached me during childbirth. I needed to hear him walking up and down the hall at night while he tried to calm EJ down so I could sleep. In my mind he existed.
“Momma, can I show him my room?” The sound of EJ’s voice startles me slightly. I’m so lost in a daydream of what could’ve been that the here and now is standing before me. Evan stands up, reaching his full height and towering over EJ and myself. He doesn’t say anything because I feel that he knows I can’t deny him. I
can’t deny him anything, and that scares me.
“His name is Evan,” I correct EJ who smacks himself in the forehead.
