Disclaimer: Don’t own the characters. Not making any money.
Author’s Note: Ok, this may take a bit. First, BIG thanks to Cathy P for urging me on with this story and providing my "motivation". Also, thanks to everyone else in chat for constantly asking about my writing. It is very encouraging to know everyone cares so much. Thanks to Rachele for everything. She knows all too well the research I went through for this story! =) Oh, and if anyone has questions about the acronyms, just let me know!
Dedication: This is for my best friend, Amy. I have four words for you girl. Been there, done that! (Don’t worry, it is almost over!)
Phone Calls In The Night
By Misty
Honey Belden opened her eyes to the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains of her bedroom. She rolled over to face the other side of the bed, hoping against hope Brian would magically be there, but the bed was cold and the sheets were still smooth on "his side". It was empty, the same as it had been for months.
With a sigh, she eased herself out of bed and padded down the hallway. "There was something special about today . . ." she mused to herself. As she passed by the living room door, she caught sight of the Christmas tree, sitting forlornly in the corner, barren of any festive decorations. She stopped at the sight and her jaw dropped. "CHRISTMAS!!!" She exclaimed, smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand.
She felt a small twinge of regret at not having taken her parents up on their offer to go visit them for the Holidays, but it passed quickly when she remembered her Christmas visit two years ago. She managed to ignore the stares. She could understand why people would stare at the millionaire’s daughter turned military wife. It was big news when she married Brian, a member of the Armed Services. She had never been more grateful to live behind a gate guarded by an armed guard than the day the National Enquirer tried to follow her home. She had even gotten used to the sign denoting the threat condition, or likelihood of a terrorist attack, that hung across the street from her house. She pretended not to hear the whispers from her parent’s friends. "Oh the poor dear." "She is still so young. Imagine being tied down like that." "Such a shame she spends so much time alone." However, every time someone came up to her and told her "I know exactly how you feel dear. My husband was gone on a business trip for almost a week just last month," she wanted to scream. "A WHOLE week? I’ll bet he stayed in a nice hotel, and I’ll venture a guess that you talked everyday too, huh? Wow, that is EXACTLY like the six months my husband spends in some far away land, flying in helicopters that are so old they don’t even make replacement parts for them anymore. I consider myself lucky to get a phone call once a month, let alone once a week, so you’ll have to excuse me if I can’t see how you would understand how I feel!" That was what she wanted to say, but instead, she nodded politely, always mindful her actions were watched by everyone and that in this military life, they reflected on Brian no matter where in the world he might be.
Honey sighed as she remembered. I know they mean well, but I’d rather stay home than subject myself to that again.
She let her eyes wander over the small but comfortable living room. She had chosen versatile furniture that could be easily packed and arranged in a homely fashion no matter where they were sent. Mementos and reminders of her and Brian’s life together adorned the walls and every available flat surface. The boomerang he brought back from Australia, hung on the wall just below his NCO sword. An oil on velvet painting purchased from a peddler in Thailand had been framed and hung next to their wedding portrait. The piano shaped music box from Saudi Arabia sat on a shelf next to her Disney water globe. The hand carved dolphins from Indonesia rested on the coffee table atop her grandmother’s lace table runner. The fidelity or "puzzle" ring from Jordan sat snuggly on her middle finger next to her wedding band. There lives seem so normal, yet so unique.
Her gaze continued around the room until it stopped on the Christmas tree. Three weeks earlier, in a fit of holiday spirit, she bought the tree, brought it home and set it in the corner of the room. She tried on several occasions to muster the energy to decorate it, but had failed miserably every time. She couldn’t complete it, but couldn’t bring herself to take it down either. The tree was symbolic and it would stay in its current pitiful shape until Brian returned. Like her, it was lonely, desolate and incomplete without him.
There weren’t even any presents. She had taken all the gifts sent to her from friends and family and tucked them away in the back of the closet. When she was younger, unopened Christmas presents would have driven her to distraction, but now, they simply reminded her of all the lonely holidays past, present and the ones yet to come. Besides, there was only one Christmas present she truly wanted, and it didn’t come in a gaily-wrapped gift box. With a sigh, Honey got up from where she sat on the arm of the couch and wandered into the kitchen to start her coffee, determined to make this just like any other day.
Later that evening, Honey sat up in bed, putting the finishing touches on her nightly letter. She folded it neatly and placed it in the envelope letting her fingers linger on the delivery address.
SGT Belden, B 137-42-9898
HMM-174 (REIN), MAG-33 MEDIC
UIC 31027
FPO-AP 98813-1027
Touching his name on this envelope was the closest thing she had to the real thing. Somehow, it comforted her to be able to do it.
She placed the letter next to the bed to be mailed in the morning and leaned over to turn out her light. Once she was settled in for the night, she whispered "Please Santa, bring me my present tonight."
3:00a.m.
Brrriiinnnnngggg!!!!!
"Hello?" she asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.
Through the static of overseas telephone lines and the roar of landing aircraft, she heard someone yelling "Honey? How are you sweetheart? Merry Christmas. Sorry I am late. I have been standing in line to use the phone for 3 and a half hours."
Honey sat back against the headboard of the bed and smiled. No precious gemstones, exotic cars or cold hard cash could compare to the 20-minute phone call she would have with her husband at 3:00 a.m. that morning. It was all she wanted, and the best present anyone could have given her.
The End