Home Front

On his desk, the intercom buzzed. It was his secretary telling him that the King County prosecuting attorney was here, on time, for their appointment.

“Send him in,” Michael said, straightening in his chair.

Brad Hilderbrand, the prosecuting attorney, strode into the office. Michael knew Brad well: beneath the politician’s slick veneer beat the heart of a zealot. Brad had been elected to be hard on crime and harder on criminals, and he did his job well because he believed in the party line. “Michael,” he said, smiling, his hand outstretched.

They shook hands. Michael could tell from Brad’s smile that there was trouble coming.

“I want to let you know that a witness has come forward in the Keller case,” Brad said. “In the interest of full disclosure—”

“And a possible plea bargain. ”

“We wanted you to have the information as soon as possible. Keller confessed. That’s why I brought it down myself. ”

“Really?”

He tossed a manila file folder on the desk. “That’s Terry Weiner’s statement. He is Keller’s cell mate. ”

The courthouse snitch. Ever popular with prosecutors and police. “So let me get this straight. You’re suggesting that Keith Keller, who in the past few weeks of his incarceration has not spoken to his father, his lawyer, or the court-appointed psychiatrist, suddenly opened up to his cell mate. ”

“He said—and I quote: ‘The bitch wouldn’t shut up, so I smoked her. ’”

“Short, to the point, and easy to remember. I see. And let me guess, the so-called witness has been let go. ”

“He was only in for possession. ”

“A drug addict. Perfect. ” Michael picked up the manila folder and opened it, skimming the statement. “I’ll need a copy of the wit’s arrest record. ”

“I’ll have it sent over. ”

“Is this little bit of fiction all you have?”

“It’s plenty, Michael, and we both know it. ” Brad paused meaningfully, looked at him. “I heard about your wife. Going off to war, huh? I didn’t know you were a military family. ”

“A military family? I wouldn’t call us that. ”

“Really? That seems odd. Anyway, I guess you’re going to have your hands full with the kids. ”

Was there a smirk in Brad’s voice? “Don’t worry about me, Brad. I can drive carpool, make dinner, and still kick your ass across the courtroom. ”

* * *

After dinner, Jolene stood at the kitchen sink with her hands deep in the hot, soapy water, staring out at the view from her own backyard. It was impossibly beautiful tonight—a star-spangled sky, waves dipped in moonlight, fence rails that seemed to glow from within. She knew that if she closed her eyes, she would recall a thousand memories played out across this very view, hear her daughters’ laughter, feel a small hand pulling at hers.

Good-bye. She’d said it in her mind so many times in the past two weeks. To views, memories, moments, pictures, people. She had spent hours trying to memorize all of it so that she could take it with her, a scrapbook in her mind of the life she’d left behind … the life that was waiting for her.

She pulled her hands out of the water, dried them off, and let the water out of the sink. Then, slowly, she left the empty kitchen.

The family room was brightly lit—every light was on and a fire danced in the grate—and the television played a sitcom that no one was watching. She turned off the TV and hated the sudden silence, so she turned it back on again. Walking up the stairs, she noticed the creaking sound of the risers and kept going. Betsy was in her room, doing homework, and Lulu was asleep already. She paused at Betsy’s door, let her fingertips brush the oak door. She had the idea to go in, to sit with her older daughter and try again to make her understand this deployment. But there was something else to do tonight—something she’d already put off as long as she could.

She went into her bedroom, turned on the light, and closed the door. As she stood there, looking at the room she shared with her husband, memories came to her. That’s the bed, Michael, let’s get it … look how sturdy it is, we can make babies in that bed … And the dresser they’d found at a garage sale in the old days, and the oriental rug that had been their first major purchase.

With a sigh, she went to the dresser and fished the video camera out of her sock drawer. Setting it up on the tripod she’d bought, she aimed the lens at the big king-sized bed, then hit the Record button. Climbing into bed, puffing the pillows up around her, she forced a smile, as if this were an ordinary bedtime story. “Hey, Lulu. ” Her voice snagged. She drew in a deep breath, and tried again. “I’m making this tape for you. ” She held up Lulu’s favorite book, Professor Wormbog in Search for the Zipperump-a-Zoo. Opening the big colorful book, she began to read the story out loud, using all the voices and drama at her command. When she was done, she closed the book and looked into the camera, tears stinging her eyes. “Lucy Louida, I love you to the moon and back. Sleep tight, baby girl. I’ll be home before you know it. ”

She climbed out of the bed and snapped the camera off. She removed that tape and put in another one. This time, she sat at the end of the bed and looked directly into the camera. “Betsy,” she said softly, “I don’t even know how to say good-bye to you. I know how much you need me right now. You’re dealing with so much stuff at school, and I want to give you all the advice you’ll ever need to get through life, but we don’t have time for that, do we? How can we not have time?” She sighed. “I know you’re mad at me, Lil Bit, and I’m so so sorry for that. I only hope that someday you’ll understand. Maybe you’ll even be proud of me, as I am proud of you. So proud of you. You’re strong and beautiful and smart and loyal. You will have a lot of hills to climb while I’m gone, and it will be hard. I know it will be hard. But you’ll be okay. ” Jolene closed her eyes for just a moment, thinking that there was so much more she wanted to say. For the next ten minutes, she gave her daughter the best advice she could, about boys and girls and classes and starting your period and wearing makeup. When she came to the end of it all, she was drained. There was so much more … and no time. “I love you, Betsy, to the moon and back. And I know you love me. I know,” she said simply, and she smiled.

Rising tiredly, she went to the camera and changed the tape again. This time, it was for Michael, but as she sat at the end of the bed, looking up into that small black lens, she felt a rush of loss. After all their years together, she had no idea what to say to him now and no idea if he would even listen or care. She got up and turned off the camera. She placed the two tapes on her dresser, writing LULU on one and BETSY on the other.

And now.