May 8, 1992 (Washington)
Henry saw Stevie before she saw him.
Coming up the sidewalk arm in arm with Elizabeth, their heads tilted close together, he was running on empty but filled with restless butterflies. The short walk from the house was one they had taken a thousand times before, one so familiar he could have made it in his sleep, but this time it actually felt dreamlike. He blinked several times, but neither the vibrant, cloudless sky nor the lush lawns around them faded before his eyes.
He reached over, covering one of Elizabeth's hands with his free one to ground himself, and twin smiles bloomed on their faces for the hundredth time that day. They strolled slowly and spoke to each other in low voices, savouring this long-awaited moment, and letting the reality of it soak in like the gentle spring sunlight.
When they rounded a corner and their neighbourhood park came into view, Henry's eyes reflexively sought out the swings on the far side of the playground, but all of them were deserted, swaying only slightly in the wind. Though his gaze was already shifting to the giant sandbox and the wooden play structure within it, his heart still skipped a beat to find the swingset empty.
There were perhaps half a dozen children in the park that day, but Henry only had eyes for one of them, the little girl in the bright purple shirt. Her golden hair streamed behind her as she threw herself fearlessly down the giant yellow slide, and her feet had no sooner touched the sand than she was racing around, scrambling back up to the top of the play structure, impatient to begin the circuit all over again.
A pang in his chest halted Henry in his tracks just then, so unexpectedly that Elizabeth turned back and tilted her head to look up at him, one eyebrow raised.
"I can't believe how much she's grown," he breathed, shaking his head. She's all leg now, he marveled as he watched his little girl, her gangly limbs sprouting from beneath blue shorts, and splaying in every direction as she ran. Could she reach the top without help before? What else had he missed while he was away?
Elizabeth gave Henry's arm an understanding squeeze, and they kept walking when he was ready, soon drawing near enough to hear Stevie's peeping voice, giggling and urging the other children to try and catch her.
Several women stood chatting near the edge of the sandbox, but Henry and Elizabeth hung back, stopping just at the edge of the sidewalk. Catching one woman's eye, Elizabeth gave her a small wave, and Stevie's babysitter gasped, her hand flying to her chest. Elizabeth pressed one finger to her lips, and the woman nodded eagerly, a huge smile on her face, but Henry was already turning back to watch Stevie again, now holding hands with one of her little friends as they went down the slide together.
Ever since dropping off his duffle bags at the house a few minutes earlier, Henry had been imagining this moment, imagined calling out to Stevie across the playground, imagined watching her toss her hair over her shoulder as she whipped around, an already gigantic smile growing wider when she located the source of his voice. But now that the moment was before him, the lump in Henry's throat would not allow him to make a sound. Elizabeth said nothing, merely squeezing his arm again and letting him take his time, waiting patiently by his side, as she had been almost as long as he'd known her.
"Stevie, who's that with your Mom?" one little boy asked. Though the words sent Henry's heart straight into his mouth, in a way he was relieved to have the decision taken out of his hands, because he thought he could have spent forever standing there drinking in the sight of her.
Stevie already had one hand on the play structure, poised to begin yet another climb when the boy spoke, and Henry's heart thudded painfully as he watched her turn slowly, searching, her brow furrowing when she spotted Elizabeth. "Mommy! What are you—"
Stevie broke off abruptly, but even if she hadn't, Henry would have known the exact moment that her eyes landed on him, her jaw dropping open wide.
Her whole face crumpled in an instant.
Henry's heart shattered at the sight, but before he could utter a single word, she was hurtling towards him, tears streaming down her face. He tried to move, wanting to meet her halfway, but his feet were frozen in place, so it was all he could do to wait and watch her come.
Stevie tripped as she raced out of the sandbox, scraping both of her knees on the pavement, but before he or Elizabeth could even cry out, Stevie was leaping back to her feet, and flying the rest of the way toward him.
At the last second, Henry sank to his knees, and Stevie flung herself, sobbing, into his arms. "Daddy!" she wailed, pressing her face tightly into his neck.
It was the sound of his name on her lips that finally unlocked Henry's voice. "I'm here, my sweet girl," he choked. "Daddy's here."
His eyes prickling with tears, Henry squeezed back as tightly as he dared, but it wasn't nearly enough for Stevie, who pressed herself even closer, her arms locking around his neck.
Henry felt Elizabeth crouch down beside them, her arm slung around his waist, and her fingers lacing together with his around their daughter's back.
At last, the whirlwind of the last few days finally began to feel real.
He was home.
For the first time in months, Henry allowed himself to fully let down his guard, no longer hyper-vigilant to his surroundings – all that mattered was that his whole world existed safely within the circle of his arms.
After kneeling on the cement for a couple minutes, however, and seeing no sign that Stevie's tears were anywhere close to abating, his awareness of the world outside of their little bubble began to creep back in.
"What's wrong with Stevie?" he heard one of the children ask, only to be shushed loudly by her mother.
Feeling as though he could do better if he could only look his daughter in the eye, Henry eased back, trying to see her face, but Stevie only sobbed harder, clung tighter, scrabbling and clawing with both hands until her fingers found the collar of his desert uniform, and she gripped the fabric in impossibly tight fists.
"Okay, okay," Henry crooned, patting her on the back, though it was plain for everyone to see that this was having no effect at all in comforting her. He tried humming, he tried rocking her in his arms – though that had rarely worked even when she was a baby.
"Why don't we go and sit down for a while?" came Elizabeth's voice in his ear, calm and low, just when the inadequacy was on the verge of overwhelming him. Henry nodded, glad beyond measure to have somebody tell him what he was supposed to do, and in one fluid motion, he was on his feet. Stevie let out a frantic keening sound at the movement, locking her bare legs around him, but he wrapped his arms impossibly tighter around her. He wasn't going anywhere.
Somehow, Elizabeth still had the presence of mind to bid farewell to Stevie's very understanding babysitter, who wordlessly handed them her backpack, and then the three of them made their way over to a park bench, nearby but out of sight behind a line of trees.
They settled down on the bench with a still-inconsolable Stevie coiled around Henry, who sent Elizabeth a stunned and helpless look. Did you know this was going to happen? he asked her with his eyes. Has she been like this the whole time I was gone?
Elizabeth offered him a gentle shake of her head in return, and in her eyes he saw surprise, and heartache for the pain that Stevie was obviously feeling, but none of the panic that was coursing through his own veins. "You're alright, Stevie," she murmured calmly, trailing her fingers through Henry's short hair with one hand, and stroking Stevie's back with the other.
Henry half-wondered if her confident words were for their daughter's benefit or for his own, but the hot breaths coming in rapid pants against his neck told him that Stevie was beginning to frighten herself with the power of her own emotions, and the fact that she couldn't seem to stem the flow. She shook harder in his arms then, and Henry knew that she was trying to hold back her tears, but Elizabeth shook her head again.
"No, let it out, sweet girl," she coaxed, never ceasing the soft touch on Stevie's back. "Let it all out. You'll feel better, I promise. Just take a deep breath."
Her voice was so certain, so steady, that Henry felt himself begin to relax, knowing that his little family was in the most capable hands possible. He took a deep breath of his own, and inhaled one of his favourite scents in the world, the strawberry shampoo that Stevie had always used. He gave a slow, relieved sigh – she may have sprouted up at least a couple inches since he'd seen her last, but this, at least, had not changed.
Stevie's tears eventually petered out on their own, her tight grip loosening on his shirt, and her body growing limp in Henry's arms, but Elizabeth was clearly in no rush to break the calm that had settled over them. They continued to sit there in silence for a time, letting the gentle breeze play with her shining hair around his fingertips, the only sound a lone cardinal singing in the tree high above them.
Only when Stevie stiffened and tried to hide her face in Henry's shirt did Elizabeth intercede, cupping their daughter's cheek with her palm, and urging her to sit up. "No, Stevie," she chided gently. "Remember what we talked about? You're a McCord, and McCords are never ashamed of their feelings."
Stevie nodded seriously, biting her bottom lip, but forcing herself to sit up a little taller. But Henry couldn't help but gaze in wonder at Elizabeth – Where on earth had that come from? Between being a military wife and becoming a very young mother, he knew that she'd had to grow up a lot in the last few years, but it left him in such awe that the girl he'd met as a lonely, guarded freshman could have grown into the force of nature who sat beside him today.
Seeing Elizabeth a few short hours earlier, standing and waiting for him in the crowd, her hair and her smile both gleaming brighter than the sun, he had fallen in love with his incredible wife all over again. But watching her with Stevie like this? There were no words profound enough to express Henry's gratitude that this should be his life.
Resting his forehead against Stevie's, he finally, finally got to see those cornflower-blue eyes he loved so much, and even teary and red-rimmed, they were his favourite sight in the world. He took the time to kiss the last of her tears away before allowing her to tuck her head below his chin.
"Ready to head home, sweetheart?" Elizabeth asked, softly caressing their little girl's cheek.
Stevie nodded wearily against his chest, but made no move to stand, and in the end, Henry was only too happy to carry her all the way home.