Home Front

Betsy made a sound of pure frustration and left the room. The sound of her footsteps on the stairs reverberated through the house.

“What about bedtime stories? Who will read to me?” Lulu said, frowning.

“Lulu, honey, put your toys away. I’ll be right back. ”

Feeling shaky, Jolene followed Betsy up the stairs and knocked on her door.

“Go away,” Betsy screamed.

“You don’t mean that,” Jolene said. “Not tonight. ”

There was a long pause, then: “Fine. Come in. ”

Jolene walked into the bedroom and went to the bed.

Betsy didn’t move sideways, but Jolene sat down beside her anyway. She put an arm around her daughter and pulled her close.

“I’m trying, Mom,” Betsy said at last.

“I know. ”

“On the news—”

“Don’t watch the news, Betsy. It won’t help. ”

“What will?”

Jolene sighed. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s synchronize our watches’ alarms. That way when the alarms go off, we’ll think of each other at that second. ”

“Okay. ”

In silence, they set their alarms.

“I shouldn’t have said that about the dog tags…” Betsy said, her voice uneven.

“It’s okay, Betsy. ”

“I’ll miss you,” Betsy said after a minute. “I don’t know why I’m being so mean to you…”

“I know, baby. I was twelve once. And you’ve got a lot to worry about right now. ” Jolene kissed Betsy’s cheek.

They sat there, holding each other for a long time. In the quiet, Jolene felt as if she were coming undone. How could she leave tomorrow, walk away from her family, say good-bye to her children?

She wanted to tell Betsy everything she would need to know for her whole life—just in case, to warn her about sex and boys and drugs and makeup, about social politics and college admissions and bad choices. But it was too early—and too late.

Finally, she kissed her daughter’s cheek, said, “Are you ready to come back downstairs?” and got up.

“I don’t feel like watching TV. I think I’ll read,” Betsy said.

Jolene could hardly challenge that. She didn’t really want to go back downstairs, either. “Okay. ”

She went downstairs, where she found Michael watching TV while Lulu sat beside him on the sofa, doggedly asking him questions about how long Mommy would be gone.

“Come here, Lucy Lou,” Jolene said, scooping her daughter into her arms. “It’s time for your bath. ”

Jolene carried Lulu upstairs, gave her a long, play-filled bath, then got her ready for bed.

As she looked around for last night’s book, she saw Lulu scamper out of bed, put on her ratty gray cat-ear headband, and climb back into bed.