Every part of me ached as I gingerly dragged myself into the shower stall. It was a familiar feeling. As a soldier, pain is a gentle reminder that we are alive and the war is still on.
I turned on the cold shower and winced as the sprays stabbed at the aching areas of my neck and back. I closed my eyes and got tenderly lost in the images of my husband and children, laughing and teasing each other at home.
I turned off the shower and quickly got dressed. My flight home was in three hours and I couldn't wait to surprise Nathan and our children. They were my anchor. My present deployment to the war-torn parts of Angaldj was supposed to be for eight months but it had extended into fourteen months, with the last three involving an undercover operation.
Communication restrictions were a compulsory part of the mission. Nathan knew this and was used to it. But I had to explain this to our children, Henry and Claire, every time I returned home.
As the cab dropped me and zoomed off, I did a quiet security check of our house and moved towards the back door. I saw them through the kitchen window and my heart was full. Nathan stood by the stove, stirring food in a pot while talking and the children laughed at something he said. I savoured the moment before letting myself inside the house through the front door.
"Hello, family!" I announced and dropped my bag on the floor. The laughter and chuckles died down.
My youngest, Claire, shrieked in excitement and ran to me. "Mummy!" I spread out my hands to receive and embrace her. "I've missed you. You stayed away longer this time," she mumbled against my neck as I nuzzled her hair. She was eight years old but still had the sweet scent of a newborn baby. Tears pooled in my eyes.
I felt warm, large hands knead my neck. I looked up, detached myself from Claire and went into my husband's loving arms. In that brief moment, my eyes locked onto Henry's angry look. I shut my eyes and sank into Nathan's embrace.
"You could have called," Nathan muttered for my ears only. We gazed at each other for a long moment. My eyes searched his intensely for that emotion that anchored me on the war fronts. It was still there and I sighed with relief. Some of my team returned home from deployment to meet divorce papers or a cheating spouse.
"My team finished early and I wanted to surprise you," I whispered. I noticed my thirteen-year-old Henry sat stiffly in his chair, frowning at his food. Nathan glanced between the two of us and shook his head.
"Go and change. I'll put a plate together for you." He gently steered me towards the stairs. I glanced back at Henry one more time and found him looking at me again. He quickly averted his eyes.
I tried over the next two weeks to reconnect with my son and it proved a more difficult task than being on the battlefield. Henry gave me the cold shoulders.
When he returned from school, I knocked on his door and walked into his bedroom. He was playing games on his PC with headphones. He frowned at me. "Uh, I'm a little busy—"
I took off the headphones. "Did you finish your homework before playing games? You know the rules."
He stood up fast causing his chair to fall backwards as though he didn't want me near him. I felt a painful stab in my heart.
"What rules? You can't just come back after so long and tell me how to live my life."
"Henry, what's wrong with you? You know it's my job and you're old enough to understand."
"I don't understand and I don't want to!" With that final declaration, he picked up his backpack and ran out of the room.
"Henry! Get back here. Don't you dare leave this house," I called after him from the balustrade. He raced down the stairs, took his bicycle and pedalled away. I almost burst into tears at my failure to reach my son when Claire curled her small hand into mine.
"Mommy, are you alright?"
"Yes, yes. I'm fine, dearie. Thank you for asking. Are you done with your homework?" She shook her head. "Come on then. Let's see how I can help."
While we were at it, I called Nathan and relayed Henry's unexpected behaviour. He encouraged me to calm down, that our son was probably at a friend's place and would return home later.
At eight p.m., I paced the living room, waiting for Nathan. Henry had not come home and it was dark outside. At the sound of Nathan's car in the driveway, I rushed outside. Henry stepped out of the car with a busted lip and one eye slightly swollen. I ran towards him. He edged away from me and ran inside the house. My heart throbbed from the continuous rejections.
"What happened?" I yelled at Nathan as though it was his fault. An inexplicable anger was stirring from within me.
He scowled at me. "Don't take that tone with me. I'm trying my best here but you are the one upsetting him."
"What do you mean?"
He sighed and gently tucked away a stray strand of my hair behind an ear. "He had a fight with some boys at the basketball court. Thankfully, I got there on time. Go and talk with him. He's having a hard time dealing with the nature of your job."
"I'm trying, Nathan. I am." The tears flowed uncontrollably and he hugged me. I'd always returned to cheerful children but this time was different—Henry had become a teenager.
I found Henry in his room, lying faced down on his bed. I sat beside him.
"Henry, we need to talk. Will you look at me?" I said and waited a long moment before he turned and sat upright with his back to the headboard. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying and his busted lips looked painful.
I cleared my throat so I didn't have to cry all over again. "I'm really sorry for staying away for more than a year. I tried to come home earlier but I couldn't. It's the job. Do you understand?"
He nodded.
"Why did you get in a fight? Now see what you've done to your face."
My boy started to cry. "I wish you didn't have to stay away for so long, Mom. I missed you. Soon you'll leave again," he sobbed and my heart broke some more. I held him for the first time in a long time and rocked him, making promises that I would try my hardest to keep.
I called my superior thereafter to take my name off the next redeployment list. I planned to use the next eight months to reconnect with my family.