All characters are the sole property of Charlaine Harris. Thanks for allowing me to play with them.
A/N ~ I hope y'all enjoy this story. Huge heartfelt thanks to my beta, Irene *GaijinVamp*
Please note that I know next to nothing about the military or how it operates. If I make any errors, please forgive me.
Chapter One
SPOV
I allowed a few more tears to fall as I traced the name carved into the cold stone with my fingertips. Corporal William Compton, my first love, my only lover, my husband, and father of my precious son. Had it really been a year since he was taken from me, from our four year old son, Billy?
It seemed like it was only yesterday when I opened my door to the CNO and Chaplain. They were compassionate and sympathetic, but nothing could soften the news they delivered. My husband had been fatally wounded by a roadside bomb in the city of Mosul. Bill was one of four casualties that resulted from the explosion. His Sergeant, Eric Northman, who suffered severe injuries, was the sole survivor of the blast.
Bill and Eric were close friends, having completed almost two tours together. I couldn't imagine the emotional toll Eric had undergone. Bill had thought highly of Eric, not only as his superior, but also as a friend. He told me, on more than one occasion, that if anything happened to him, I should contact Eric.
"Mommy," a small voice came, pulling me from my memories.
"What sweetie?" I smiled, wiping my eyes.
"Don't cry, Mommy. Remember, Daddy wants us happy."
Billy was wise for his age. He was only repeating what I'd told him every time he was sad, missing his Daddy. Besides having blond hair like mine, he was the spitting image of his father.
I wrapped my arms around his small body, kissing the top of his head. "You're right, sweetheart," I told him, as I peered into his large, chocolate brown eyes. "Daddy loves us so much, and he wants us to be happy. And what makes Daddy happy?" I grinned.
He giggled as he spoke, knowing what was coming next. "Smiles and laughs."
"That's right," I replied, tickling him until he was a ball of laughter.
"Stop Mommy, I gotta pee," he squealed.
"Well, we don't want that," I said, giving him one final squeeze. "It's time to go, honey. Tell Daddy bye."
"Bye bye, Daddy. I love you," he said, blowing a kiss to his father's headstone.
I closed my eyes to keep from crying again, as I said a silent goodbye to my husband. "Are you hungry?" I asked my son, as we walked back to my mini-van.
He looked at me as if I had two heads. "I want McDonald's."
It was my turn to give him a look. Of course he wanted McDonald's. It was his favorite treat. "What do you want to eat from McDonald's?" I asked, as I fastened him into his car seat, though I already knew his answer.
"I want chicken nuggets, french fries, chocolate milk, and a boy toy," he responded, counting each item on his tiny fingers.
We stopped at the McDonald's in Keithville, and I let Billy play for a while before we finally had to leave. It was an almost two hour drive from the Northwest LA Veteran's Cemetery in Keithville back to our home in Bon Temps. Sometimes when we visited Bill's gravesite, we would stop at the mall in Shreveport on our way back home, but not today. Maybe it was due to it being the one year anniversary of his death, but I didn't feel like being anywhere but home with my son.
*~o0o~*~o0o~*~o0o~*~o0o~*
One month later
"Mommy, you be a monkey, and I be a lion," Billy told me on the way home from pre-school. They were studying zoo animals this week in his class, and every day I was designated a different animal.
"Did you have a good day?" I asked with my cheeks puffed out.
He giggled at my attempt to be a monkey. "Raaarr," he growled.
"Good," I smiled.
Having Billy attend pre-school was one thing Bill and I decided after a few arguments on my part. At the time, I hated the thought of sending my toddler to school when I was more than capable of keeping him home with me. Now, I'm glad we ended up sending him. Like Bill said, pre-school gave our son the opportunity to interact with other kids his age. We live in a rural area and none of my friends have children, so it was our only option.
Now, with Billy in school, I worked the lunch shift a few days a week at Merlotte's Bar & Grill. With the life insurance payment, and Bill's benefits, I didn't need the money. The same way Billy needed to be around kids his age; I had the same need to socialize with other adults.
My old farmhouse had been given to me when my Gran died. Parts of it were over 150 years old, but it hadn't had a mortgage on it in quite a few years. So, besides upkeep, it was a blessing. Bill also had an ancestral home that was even older than mine. We'd been neighbors our whole lives, with only a thicket and a cemetery separating our homes. My friends Amelia and Tray lived in the Compton house now. Since it was also paid for and needed a lot of work, I only charged them a small rent in exchange for the repairs they made.
It might seem exorbitant to keep both houses, but I couldn't bring myself to sell either of them. They belonged in our family, and one day they would be passed to Billy.
"Do lions eat spaghetti?" I asked, looking at his reflection in my rearview mirror.
"Uh huh," he nodded enthusiastically. "With meat balls and lotsa yummy bread."
He could eat his weight in spaghetti with meatballs and garlic bread.
I grabbed the mail from the mailbox before we made it inside the house. Normally, I would've waited until after Billy went to bed to sort through the stack of envelopes, but one piece with familiar handwriting caught my eye. I knew immediately who it was from. Aside from the perfect penmanship, I recognized the pre-stamped envelope as coming from Sgt. Northman.
We had corresponded a few times through letters and e-mail. His letters were always brief and somewhat guarded. He never offered much information about himself. He always asked how Billy and I were doing, and if we were well.
Honestly, besides the pictures that Billy colored for him, my letters didn't offer much either. It was awkward writing to him. He'd been Bill's best friend, but to me, he was practically a stranger. I did respect him though. Bill told me that Eric had saved his life on many occasions.
I also knew from Bill that Eric didn't have any family. None. I only had my brother, Jason, but at least I had him and Billy.
When Eric wrote informing me that his tour was coming to an end, I instantly felt bad for him. He was coming home after serving our country to no one. I couldn't bear the thought, and that is what spurred me into making him an offer.
I hadn't heard from him since then, so, I opened the envelope quickly, anxious to read his response.
Sookie,
I was relieved to read that you and Billy are doing well and are in good health. My discharge orders will be processed within the next month. While I was initially hesitant to accept your generous invitation, I am now willing to say, 'Yes.' Bill was a true friend and I would love the opportunity to become acquainted with his namesake.
As with many things in the military, I probably won't be informed of my discharge date until the last minute. I will e-mail you the details as soon as I am made aware of them. But you can expect my arrival within the next six weeks.
Again, thank you for your generous hospitality, and please tell Billy that his last picture was adored by the entire company.
Regards,
Sgt. Eric Northman
After reading the letter twice more, I set it on the kitchen counter. When I made the offer, it came from the bottom of my heart. But, a small piece of me didn't think that he would accept.
I'd given him an open invitation to stay with us, and I needed to get over the fact that he'd accepted. The whole second floor of my house was empty, so it wasn't like I didn't have a room to spare.
Deep down, I knew the cause of my anxiety, even if it made me sound like a cold-hearted bitch.
This man, without a single family member, was coming to stay with me and my son. I couldn't help resenting the fact that it was him coming home when I wanted it desperately to be my husband instead.
*~o0o~*~o0o~*~o0o~*~o0o~*
Two months later
Eric had e-mailed me his arrival date. I'd offered to pick him up from the base, but he declined. He wanted to get his car from the garage where a friend of his had been storing it while he was away. He'd been in the states for a week and was due to arrive at my house today.
I almost wished it wasn't a Saturday so I could've taken Billy to pre-school. He was about to drive me crazy with his excitement. I was anxious enough without his hyper boy antics.
Being the son of a Reconnaissance Marine, Billy was naturally fascinated with all things military. This included Sgt. Northman. He was thrilled to finally meet the man he'd colored pictures for, the man in photos with his daddy. Obviously, he didn't know the circumstances surrounding Bill's death. He was told that his daddy died fighting for his country, and until he was old enough, that is all he would know. He had no clue that Eric was with Bill when he died.
Maybe that's why my heart began beating a mile a minute when I heard the crunch of tires on my gravel driveway. Eric was the last person to see my husband alive. That alone was profound and terrifying to me.
I pulled the hem of my shirt over the waistband of my shorts, taking a deep breath before opening the door to his knock.
For a split second, I didn't recognize the man standing on my porch. I'd only seen a handful of pictures of him, and he was in uniform in all of them. This man, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and running shoes looked too casual to be the same person. His blond hair was still short in a standard military cut.
When he extended his large hand to me, I tilted my head up and up and up to look him in the eyes. I'd never realized how tall he was. Pictures could be deceiving.
My hand felt tiny as his fingers wrapped around it.
"Mrs. Compton," he said before releasing my hand. We'd never spoken before, and his deep baritone voice surprised me.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Sgt. Northman, and please, call me Sookie," I smiled nervously.
"Yes ma'am, as long as you call me Eric," he returned.
Billy, who'd been pressing against my leg, finally squeezed passed me and onto the porch.
"Hello," he said, holding out his tiny hand. "My name is William Compton Jr., but you can call me Billy."
My little man never ceased to amaze me.
Eric took his hand and squatted until he was eye to eye with my son. "It is an honor to meet you, Billy," he said quietly. "My name is Eric, and I was a friend of your father's."
"I know," he replied quickly. "My Daddy showed me pictures of you, but my Daddy is dead now."
The smile that was on Eric's face faded for a moment before he recovered. "Yes, I was very sad when your Daddy died, but maybe we can be friends now."
His blond head nodded rapidly. "Yeah, 'cause Mommy said it's good to make friends."
Eric looked up at me, his crystal blue eyes filled with emotion. "Your Mommy is absolutely correct, little man."
"Hey!" Billy exclaimed, looking between me and Eric. "My Mommy calls me 'little man', too."
Billy didn't give Eric a chance to respond before he began tugging at his hand. "Come on Mr. Eric; let's go to your room."
Eric rose and gave me a questioning look.
"Of course," I answered with a wave.
I followed behind them, listening to my son rattle on, as they climbed the stairs.
"Mommy don't let me play on the steps 'cause I have metal feet."
Eric chuckled at his comment about having 'lead' feet. I was pleased to see how easily they interacted with each other.
Billy showed Eric into the larger of the two upstairs bedrooms. He looked around, taking inventory of the sparse furnishings.
"It's not much, but there are clean sheets on the bed. I emptied the drawers and closet, and there are fresh linens in the bathroom," I told him.
"Thank you, Sookie," he said with a nod. "It's more than adequate."
"Ok, well, I'll leave so you can get situated," I smiled nervously. "Come on Billy, you can help me with dinner."
"But I want to stay with Mr. Eric," he whined.
"Billy," I said firmly.
"I don't mind," Eric offered.
Billy clasped his hands and looked at me expectantly. "Please Mommy?"
I glanced at both of them before answering. "Fine, but make sure you don't get in Mr. Eric's way."
I went down stairs to make dinner, listening for signs of my son becoming too rambunctious. Whatever awkwardness there was between me and Eric clearly wasn't present with him and Billy. I grabbed a couple extra potatoes and peeled them, thinking how odd it was to make larger servings again. My Gran taught me to cook, and she always made huge meals, but there wasn't a need to cook so much food for just me and Billy. I found that I enjoyed preparing the larger portions again.
*~o0o~*~o0o~*~o0o~*~o0o~*
"This looks wonderful," Eric told me, wistfully, when he and Billy came down for dinner.
I blushed. I'd never been one to take compliments easily. "Thank you. I hope you don't mind. We usually eat our meals at the kitchen table instead of in the dining room."
He smiled. "I don't mind in the least. This is nice and cozy, right squirt?" he said, ruffling Billy's hair.
"It smells good, Mommy," Billy said, rubbing his stomach.
"Why don't you say grace, and then we can eat?" I reminded him.
As we bowed our heads, I glanced at Eric. He looked so uncomfortable. I wondered how long it'd been since he prayed before eating.
"Thank you, God for all this yummy food," Billy finished quickly.
Eric looked confused when our eyes met.
"He's only four. We keep it short and to the point for him," I informed him with a slight smile.
He nodded his understanding.
For the next thirty minutes, we ate our dinner. Besides the occasional comment or two, Eric and I didn't talk much. Billy occupied most of the conversation by asking Eric about being in the military and other completely random things.
By the end of our meal, I could see that my son was fighting his fatigue. It had been an exciting day in his young life, and he didn't want it to end.
"It is getting late Billy, and if you don't get in the bath soon, there won't be time for more than one bedtime story," I told him after he whined about wanting to play with Eric some more.
He opened his mouth to complain again, but Eric interrupted him. "If you mind your Mom, and she approves, I'll read you a story after your bath."
My son's brown eyes about popped out of his head. "Can he, Mommy? Please?" he begged, squeezing my hand.
"I guess so, but that means we need to get started now."
"Thank you, Mommy," he said, hugging my waist.
"You need to thank, Mr. Eric, too," I reminded him.
"Thank you, Mr. Eric," he gushed.
"You're welcome, little man," he grinned.
I ran Billy's bath water with bubbles as a treat. Normally, when he took a bath, I'd just stay close by, but tonight I sat in the bathroom with him while he played.
When he was finished, I tucked him into bed and read him one of his favorite stories. We'd read it enough times that he was beginning to point out the words as I read them aloud.
After giving him a kiss goodnight, I went in search of Eric so he could make good on his promise of an additional story. I found him in the kitchen wiping off the counter. He'd washed the dishes.
"Eric, you didn't have to clean up. I was going to take care of this after I got Billy settled," I told him.
He folded the kitchen towel and set it by the sink. "You made me a delicious dinner. The least I could do was help with the dishes," he answered.
It suddenly occurred to me how rude I was being. "I apologize," I said sincerely. "I'm grateful for the help. It was just unexpected."
"Sookie," he said evenly. "I may be a guest in your home, but I always pull my weight. I'll assist you in any way I can, so please let me know if there's anything that you need help with."
I forced away the tears that threatened to fill my eyes. "Thank you, Eric. I appreciate your offer."
He nodded, and left to read Billy the story he'd promised. Since I no longer had to clean the kitchen, I headed to my room and took a quick shower. With Eric's help, I thought I might have time to read a book myself this evening. I had a passion for reading, especially racy romance books, but I rarely had time for it anymore.
After my shower, I dressed and pulled on my robe before checking on Billy. As expected, he was fast asleep. I turned to go to my room when Eric appeared, startling me with his presence.
"Sorry," he grimaced. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just checking the locks before heading upstairs."
"I appreciate that," I said slowly, though my heart was still racing.
"Thanks again for everything, Sookie," he said graciously. "I'll see you two in the morning."
"Goodnight," I replied and watched him walk away before I retreated to my room.
My intentions were to read for a bit before going to sleep, but as I listened to the creaking noises coming from the second floor, I changed my mind. Instead, I turned off my lamp and lay there, curled around a body pillow. I cried myself to sleep, missing my husband more that night than I had in over a year.
TBC
A/N ~ I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. I've missed y'all!
*Viking Battle Cry*
Tammy