Home Front

Blood spurted out, poured down the soldier’s face. Jolene yelled, “Smitty, get the medic, this man isn’t going to make it—”

“It’s seven fifty-seven,” Betsy said sharply.

Jolene came back to the present. She wasn’t in Iraq, flying a medevac mission. She was in her kitchen. She looked down; the pot was overflowing with water.

“Mom, it’s—”

“I know,” Jolene said. She turned off the water and set the pot on the counter. Pivoting on her foot, she repositioned the wheelchair.

“Dad has oatmeal ready by now,” Betsy added.

Jolene grabbed for the pot without thinking, using her right hand. It happened in an instant, her losing her grip, but she saw it in slow motion: the grab, the turn, the fingers failing her, opening, the pot falling …

It hit with a clang.

“You got water all over me!” Betsy screamed, scrambling back from the table. “Oh my God. I have to change—” She ran out of the room.

Jolene slumped into her chair.

“You made a mess, Mommy,” Lulu said, frowning. “The floor looks like a lake. ”

Jolene just sat there, stunned.

“Mommy? You made a mess,” Lulu said again, sounding scared. “I want my daddy. ”

“Who gives a shit?” Jolene snapped.

Lulu started to cry. “I want my daddy NOW!”

Betsy came back downstairs, dressed now in jeans and a white hoodie. She picked Lulu up. They stared down at Jolene.

“Well?” Betsy said to her mother.

“Well what?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

Jolene felt bitterness well up. She wanted to hold it back, be a good mother, but she couldn’t stop herself. The anger and edginess overtook her. “What’s wrong with me?” She held back from screaming do you not see?

Outside, the school bus chugged up to the driveway, gearing down to a stop.

Betsy screamed and dropped Lulu, who hit the ground hard and started to cry. “She hurt me! She hurt me!”

Betsy ran to the kitchen door and flung it open. “Wait! Wait!”

But it was too late. Jolene heard the bus driving away.

“I’m late,” Betsy shrieked, stomping over to her. “Now I’ll have to walk into first period late. Everyone will stare at me. ”

Lulu wailed. “I’m hungry. I want my daddy. ”

“Well?” Betsy demanded. “Are you just going to sit there?”

That did it. Jolene grabbed the chair’s wheels and spun around. “What the hell did you say to me? Believe me, being late to school is not a tragedy, Betsy. ” She lifted her residual leg up. It twitched upward; the empty pant leg did a little dance. “This is a tragedy. Make your sister breakfast. Yia Yia will be here in a little while. She can take you to school. ”

“You said you’d be fine,” Betsy yelled, her cheeks pink. “But you’re not. You can’t even take care of us. Why did you even come back?”

“And you’re a spoiled brat. ” Jolene gripped the wheels and rolled away from them. As soon as she was in the office, she slammed the door shut. Getting up, she hopped over to the bed and fell into it with a groan.