Monday, August 31, 1987

8:47 a.m.

"Are you sure you won't have something more than coffee?  It's not very substantial, you know."

Lee cleared his throat.  "No, thanks, Dotty.  It all looks great, but I'm not much for eating in the morning.  Besides, I've got a long flight ahead of me."

Mother's response was lost in a clatter of china as she began to clear the breakfast dishes from the table.  I listened from the other room, ensconced in the big chair that Jamie had commandeered of late.  I understood why he liked it so much; the oversized cushions seemed to swallow me.  Bringing my feet up, I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees as I pulled myself into a tight ball.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I felt a clumsy pressure on my arm.  "Are you okay, Mom?" Phillip asked, giving me a quick hug. 

I nodded and smiled in a half-hearted attempt to reassure him.  Though, like Lee, he tried his best to hide it, I could tell he was worried.  Last night after dinner, when we had explained what was going to happen, Phillip's solemn eyes had never left mine.  Jamie, on the other hand, had spent the entire conversation contemplating his sneakers.

"Where's your brother?" I inquired as Phillip flung himself onto the couch. 

"Upstairs.  He won't come down."  He let out an exasperated groan.  "I don't see why he has to be such a Bozo about things."

"Because he's scared, Chief."  There was a look of weariness in Lee's eyes as he sank down beside Phillip.  "And scared people don't always do the things we think they should."

"Yeah, I guess.  But I'd still like to sock some sense into him."

"Hey, don't fight with your brother, okay?  I need you to take care of things until I get back."

My son pushed out his chest and sat up straighter.  "You can count on that.  It's just that . . ."

Lee gripped Phillip's shoulder.  "That what, son?" he asked, in a low voice.

Though Phillip had filled out this summer, his adolescent frame seemed to shrink back into boyishness beneath Lee's large hand.  "I just wish you didn't have to go, that's all," he blurted out, sounding much younger than his fourteen years, as well.

"Me, too, Chief."  Lee caught my eye.  "Me, too.  But I know the home front will be in good hands."

I watched them for a moment, the boy and the man, sitting side by side on the couch.  Without me, their paths might never have crossed.  Yet, at this moment, I felt inconsequential; they understood each other perfectly.

The staccato rhythm of twirling rotors signaled a helicopter's imminent arrival.  Lee shot me a grim smile as he gave Phillip's shoulder a squeeze.  "Sounds like my ride is here."

I glanced at the clock as we all rose. "Billy's as punctual as ever." 

"Yeah, he is," Lee mumbled.

Mother emerged from the kitchen to put a comforting arm around Phillip, who had tears in his eyes.  Lee's expression hardened as he watched, and I knew we had to do this fast.  I walked my husband to the door, our fingertips barely touching.

"Be careful."

"Always."

His voice sounded more guttural than usual.  He removed the gold wedding band from his finger and pressed it into my hand.  "Take care of this for me, okay?" 

His eyes were moist as he closed my fingers around the ring.  The metal was still warm, and I drew a deep breath.  "Only if you promise to turn up at my back door one of these days to claim it."

He smiled softly.  "I promise to try." 

His lips brushed over my forehead in a gesture of infinite tenderness.  I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the memory of his lips on my skin.  "Lee," I whispered, unable to stop myself.  "I need to tell you something . . ."

But when I opened my eyes, he was gone.