We'll Begin Again Read online

  “Grab your iPad and anything else you want to bring along. We're leaving in about twenty minutes."

  “Yes, Mama!” Charlie shouted from his bedroom.

  In the short time Charlie was away, he already seemed a little bit more mature and carried a little less baby fat in his face. How did that happen? And how could I make it stop? I didn't want to think about my baby becoming a man, but I knew it would happen someday whether I liked it or not.

  I packed a few bananas and bottles of water in my tote as a knock on the door rapped lightly.

  "Come in!"

  William opened the door, revealing large bags had taken residence under his eyes.

  "Hey! Everything okay? You look a little tired."

  "Didn't sleep much." He shrugged.

  "Is there something wrong with the house?” Nerves crept into my consciousness. I worried how William would handle the new place.

  "No, no. Not at all. Just... Not used to it yet."

  I nodded and decided not to press any further.

  Charlie burst out of his room and ran toward William, only to pump the brakes before he crashed right into him.

  "Hiya, Charlie."

  "Hey, William! Mama said we're going shopping. Are you going to buy new toys?"

  William cracked a smile. "I wish, but I think the shopping might be a little boring."

  "That's okay." Charlie shrugged and reached for the coat rack to grab his winter jacket. "Let's go!"

  I'd never seen Charlie warm up to someone new so quickly. His comfort reduced my anxiety somewhat; I wasn’t sure it was appropriate to have Charlie and William together so soon, but since they already met, a little more interaction couldn’t hurt, right?

  Ten minutes later, we were packed into my SUV and headed toward the outlet mall just outside of the city. I hadn’t gone yet, but I figured it would be a great place to start with the basics. The drive took less than an hour, and the duration was spent listening to Charlie bombard William with questions. For once, I asked him to play his game and stop talking so much. I didn't want William to get annoyed with my kid the first day they spent together! I loved Charlie, but he was a persistent little bugger.

  "What's your favorite movie? What's your favorite food? I like pizza, how about you?"

  William seemed to get a kick out of him, which warmed my heart like a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. Or, at least he pretended to, which was fine for now.

  When we arrived, I groaned loudly. It seemed as though everyone and their mothers decided to come shopping today. William’s demeanor also changed drastically as we parked the car. Droves of families headed toward the mall doors. I hadn’t remembered William’s shyness in public places. Silence washed over him as his body stiffened.

  "Well, ready, everyone?"

  Charlie bounced up and down, and William looked uneasy but nodded all the same.

  "All right. Let's do this."

  We chose to start the adventure with a trip into Macy’s. Even though William specifically asked for a few new pieces of clothing, I thought he could use a new bed set, too. The halfway house was a great place for William to become accustomed to “normal” life again, but his room was a tad shabby. His sheets, gray and worn, looked as though they’d been used for several years. I didn’t doubt they were clean, but a new set couldn’t hurt.

  "What about this one?" I showed him a soft turquoise comforter set with matching sheets.

  He shrugged. "It's okay."

  "Well, do you like it?"

  William nodded solemnly, and I put it in the cart.

  "Is everything okay?" I asked in a hushed tone.

  "Yeah, why do you ask?"

  "You just seem a little quiet is all. You still want to shop, right?"

  "Yeah. Just tired."

  "Sure." I narrowed my eyes, but he walked away. I knew something was up with William, but couldn't put my finger on it. Again, men are way more complicated than women. He made his way over to Charlie, who, much to my dismay, bounced up and down as he pointed toward a Superman bed set.

  "Not today, kiddo," I scolded him gently and smiled.

  William sighed and headed toward the living room section of the store. He was about ten paces ahead of us when Charlie tugged on my coat.

  "What is it?"

  "Why is William sad?"

  I cleared my throat. "Why do you think he's sad, honey?"

  "I can tell by his eyes."

  I'd seen the sadness too, though I wasn't entirely sure why he could be downtrodden today. It was a new beginning for him: new job, new place to live. I thought he’d be a little more comfortable in public places by now.

  Around lunch time, we decided to load up the car with what we could for now and try to find a bite to eat. I saw a pizza place around the corner when we drove here, so I suggested it to the boys, and they happily agreed. The mall’s food court appeared far too crowded. Not only did I want William to be comfortable, but I didn’t want to wait in line for a half hour for a food court lunch.

  The pizza place, small and family-owned, revealed the scent of wafting spices and fresh mozzarella. Family portraits covered the walls, and a toy machine with a mechanical crane stood in the corner beside an soda fountain.

  "What would you like on your personal pan, Charlie?"

  "Cheese, pineapple, and mushrooms!"

  I wrinkled my nose, wondering where this kid came from. "Are you sure?"

  "Duh, Mom. It's so good."

  "You're the pickiest eater I know," I reminded him.

  "It's good. I promise."

  Where had he consumed those toppings on a pie before? Probably with Cal. He was poisoning his mind and taste buds.

  "If you say so, but I don't wanna hear about how it's gross, and you want something else."

  "I won't, Mama."

  "What about you, William?"

  "Uh, I'm not hungry.” William stared at the floor.

  "I thought you said you wanted pizza?” I swore I heard his stomach rumbling earlier.

  "I did, but um, I don't have any money, and these prices are crazy."

  "William, stop." I put my hand on his chest. "It's my treat."

  "You're always treating me," he mumbled sourly.

  "It’s because I want to!"

  "I'm not a charity case, Amelia!" He roared as a vein protruded in his forehead.

  Patrons and workers alike turned to stare at the commotion. My stomach dropped as heat flooded to my cheeks.

  "I don't think you're a charity case, William. I'm just trying to help,” I whispered.

  "Well, maybe you should stop. I don't deserve your help. I don't deserve any of this!" His voice rose over the hustle and bustle of the pizza parlor.

  "Hey, don't yell at my Mama!" Charlie chirped.

  William sighed and walked out of the pizza place toward the car. I wanted to go after him, but I couldn't leave Charlie. I figured he could use some space and fresh air, so I let him go. Charlie and I ate our pizza by the window just so I could keep an eye on William from the inside. He chose to sit by the car with his head in his hands. I wish I knew what he was thinking or what he was feeling, but truth be told, I couldn't. I'd never been homeless or a veteran. I had no idea what was going on inside his mind. I'm sure it couldn't be easy to adjust to a new and different life so quickly, but I was only helping him out of the goodness of my heart. He knew that? Right?

  "I told you he was sad, Mama," Charlie said as he finished his last slice.

  "I know, sweetie. I know he is."

  "Did something bad happen to him?"

  "Well, it's kind of complicated."

  "I'm almost ten. I think I can handle it." He rolled his eyes.

  Maybe he was right. I couldn't baby him forever. "William didn't have a home for a while."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He was living outside," I said carefully.

  "Like in the cold?"

  I nodded.

  "Where would he sleep?"

  "I'm not ent
irely sure, but I think he slept on a bench sometimes."

  "That's sad." Charlie put his pizza crust down, and a tear slid down his cheek.

  I pulled him into my lap. "It is sad, but wanna know what's great about William?"

  "Huh?"

  "He was in the Army, and he went to war. He's a hero and risked his life to keep us all safe."

  "Wow!" Charlie said with his mouth agape. "Like Captain America?"

  "Something like that." I smiled.

  "He's my hero," Charlie said.

  "Who is? Captain America?"

  "No, Mama. William."

  At that moment, I knew I was raising my son right, and my heart burst with love. Charlie and I shared something in common: William was my hero, too. Whatever he was dealing with now, we'd find a way to get through it together.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  William

  Spence died that day. He lost a lot of blood in the explosion and never recovered. Just like that, my trio of brothers became a duo. Luckily, no one else was hurt, but it wouldn't have mattered to me because once a heart breaks that deeply, it's impossible to feel any more pain.

  Hudson and I promised to have each other's backs more than ever, if that was possible. We'd learned how life could be snuffed out in the blink of an eye. It was something I still couldn't comprehend even after dealing with my father's death. How could a person be living one second and cease to exist the next? How could someone be speaking and moving in one instant, and be wholly absent and immobile the next?

  I missed Spence more than my heart could bear. Spence's death reopened the wounds of losing my father, and the memory of September 11th echoed in my mind. I always thought time would heal my wounds, but that was wishful thinking. There are some kinds of pain you simply never recover from. You'll carry the despair with you everywhere you go until it's your turn to die. Then, you'll be buried with it too.

  Hudson and I continued our fight against terrorism, serving a few more tours overseas. Each day that passed, we grew tougher; our skin grew thicker, and we grew closer than ever. I would have died for him, and I know he would have died for me. Sure, we were thick as thieves with all other soldiers, too, but this was different. We had a bond that could not be duplicated.

  Before our tour, Hudson met a nice girl back home. Her name was Maria, and they planned to marry once Hudson came home. Though the pregnancy was a surprise, Maria gave birth to a little girl she named Isabella while we were in Afghanistan. Apparently, their night before he deployed got a little crazy.

  I couldn't have been happier for my best friend. Naturally, he named me Isabella's Godfather. He even bought me a Godfather tee shirt when he asked me. I said yes, and a new wave of pride entered my life. Even though I wouldn’t meet her until I came home after the first tour, Isabella repaired a piece of my heart I thought would be damaged forever. Babies have a way of bringing life and light back into our lives even during the darkest of times.

  However, darkness still hollowed my soul. Every year on my father's birthday, on Christmas, on my birthday, on the day of his death, and so many other holidays and anniversaries, I felt the full impact of his absence. And, my mother? If I was heartbroken, she was practically dead. A shell of her old self. My uncle wrote me letters as often as he could, and while I knew he attempted to sugarcoat the situation, I could tell my mother wasn't holding up well at all. Apparently, she wouldn't eat, sleep or leave the house.

  I called when I could, but sometimes it was too hard to speak with her. She didn't sound like my mother; she didn't act like my mother. She was a stranger to me, a ghost of someone I once knew.

  When I came home for a brief vacation during my first tour, my uncle wept in my arms. He told me he was trying his best to take care of my mom, but she was so far gone. I didn't blame him one bit. In fact, I didn't know how he managed to continue taking care of her. It broke my soul to look at her, let alone take care of her day in and day out. Her doctor prescribed her a heaping pile of antidepressants, but they only seemed to keep her low and sorrowful. Maybe her pain would never go away. Maybe this was just who she was now.

  No matter what the reason, though, I couldn't bear it anymore. I couldn't stand to see my mother so melancholy and sullen. I tried everything I could to cheer her up while on leave. I cooked dinner, bought her flowers, offered to take her to art shows and museums, all her favorite things. That seemed like a past life, though. Or a dream. I couldn't remember the last time she smiled. I couldn't remember the last time my mom was happy. I suppose it would have been the morning before my father left for work for the very last time.

  Soon, I grew angry with her. Didn't she know I'd lost my best friend? Didn't she know what I saw in Afghanistan? The terror? The death? Who was going to take care of me? Who was going to make sure I would get out of bed in the morning or eat breakfast? Not only did I nurse my wounds from war, but I had to nurse my mother, too. I hated myself for becoming so angry with her, but I couldn't help it. Life was fucked up.

  I carried my depression with me everywhere. Every single day I thought about what could have been different in my life. Could I have saved Spence? Could I have saved my father? Why did I live and they died? I would have gladly traded places with either of them. I would have given my life to save them one hundred times over. But sometimes it doesn't matter how badly you want to turn back the clock, time keeps dragging us along regardless of our desire to hit pause or rewind.

  In 2009, the eighth anniversary of the Twin Towers attack approached, as well as the end of my first enlistment in the Army. Most guys re-enlisted immediately. While my patriotism had never wavered since I'd enlisted, my desire for combat waned dramatically. Part of me felt numb to the death I encountered, and the other half of me screamed to escape. It was as though I applied a dab of lidocaine to my heart while simultaneously injecting it with a burst of adrenaline.

  On the flight home, I had a layover a few hours away from the city.

  "Hey, William. How's everything? Happy to be coming home?" Uncle Jimmy asked.

  "Yeah, it'll nice to be back. How's Mom? Is she alright?"

  "Well, see, that's what I'm calling about. I'm afraid I have some bad news."

  My stomach lurched as I waited for my uncle to tell me I was an orphan.

  "Your mom has been off lately. More than usual."

  "What do you mean 'off?'"

  "She forgets a lot of things. Last week, she thought I was your father. Another time, she left the oven on and almost burned the house down." His voice cracked with despair. "She's sick, William."

  "What did the doctor say?"

  "Early-onset Alzheimer's."

  Alzheimer's? How was that possible? She was only in her mid-fifties. No, this couldn't be true.

  "Are you sure? Did you get a second opinion?" My chest heaved.

  "I'm sorry, kid. I took her to a handful of doctors who all said the same thing."

  "I-I-I can't believe it."

  "Me either."

  It was then I made the second-most important decision after enlisting: I decided not to re-enlist. I needed to take care of my mom. I knew it wasn't fair for my uncle to handle the brunt of her care. Hell, he could use someone to help take care of him too. The guilt I carried after leaving my mother for war crushed my soul as though I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders. I needed to be a real man and take care of my mother, even if that meant foregoing my future in the military and leaving my brothers behind. Part of me knew I wasn’t fit to fight either. Between the depression and anxiety I’d developed during the war and my mother, I realized I couldn’t be in the military any longer.

  When I told Hudson I wasn't going back, he understood. Sure, he was pissed, but he knew family came first.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Amelia

  William remained distant the entire ride home, not uttering a single word. I didn't want to force him to open up if he wasn't ready, but I also couldn't hide my disappointment at the day's turn of events. I h
onestly thought today would be fun and adventurous. It ended up being slightly disastrous instead. However, Charlie didn't seem to notice the awkwardness in the air and contently played his video game in the back seat. We stopped briefly at Kohl's so William could pick out a few additional pieces of clothing for work, but neither of us spoke while inside the department store. He quickly grabbed a few pairs of jeans, some boxer briefs, and some tee shirts.

  When I parked the car outside of the halfway house, William mumbled a brief thank you, grabbed his new belongings and headed toward the front doors. Charlie called out goodbye, and William nodded and waved.

  As much as I wanted to help William and comfort him, I knew he needed his space more than anything. I drove away as soon as William unlocked the door and disappeared into the halfway house, his new home.

  Once I unlocked the door to our apartment, Charlie ran off to play in his room as per usual.

  "Charlie!" I called out.

  "Yeah, Mom?"

  "I need to make a phone call. Play in your room for a little bit, okay?"

  "’Kay!"

  I stepped out onto my balcony and closed the door behind me. A frigid chill hung in the air, but I wanted to call William in private. Despite my best efforts to leave him be, I needed to know if he was okay.

  “Hello?" I heard him sigh loudly on the other end of the call.

  "Are you okay?” I sensed him building his wall back up, maybe higher than ever.

  "I don't want to talk about it,” he said coldly.

  “Is there anything I can do to help? I hate seeing you like this.”

  For the most part, in my life, if there was a problem, I fixed it. If Charlie fell off his bike, I cleaned up the wound. If a client at work had a problem, I took on the case. William? I had no idea what to do or how to help him. It felt like every time I tried to get close to him, he pushed me away.

  “Yeah, well, I hate feeling like this.”

  “Feeling like what?” My heart thumped wildly in my chest.

  “Like I don’t deserve this second chance.”

  “You of all people deserve a second chance,” I urged and wished he realized this, too.