Chapter Three
Friday, January 7, 2022
Dear Diary,
My last couple of entries were very baby-centric. This time, it's all about Ranger. So here we go, back into the time machine.
Two and a half months after I moved to Boston, six months to the day that he missed his first check-in, Ranger was officially listed as Missing In Action. Ace called me when he heard the news and told me to take the day off or even longer if I needed to. I took him up on his offer to take one day off, and while I was sitting at home, thinking about Ranger, I had an idea. I emailed Hector to ask if he had any photos of Ranger and me, knowing he was a bit of a shutterbug and liked taking candid shots of everyone at Rangeman. I didn't have any pictures of Ranger, and I wanted to look at him again.
About ten minutes after I sent my email, Hector replied with a link to a photo-sharing website. I clicked the link and was floored when it turned out he had linked me to an entire album full of photos of Ranger and me, Ranger by himself, Ranger with some of the other men, Ranger with his daughter, and a few of me with various others. I clicked on the first photo and stared at it. It was one of Ranger and me. We were in the underground garage of the Rangeman building, and I was pinned under Ranger against one of my old POS cars, his arm raised to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. His gaze was fixed on me with his intense look, but his mouth was soft and curled into a tiny smile. I had a broad grin on my face, and I looked so happy.
I clicked through the rest of the pictures and paused to review each. The last photo was my favourite, though. Ranger and I were holding each other in a tight embrace. Judging by the highly revealing dress I wore, it was taken before or after a distraction. Ranger's eyes were soft as he looked at me, a grin splitting his face. Even through a photograph, I could see the love in each of our expressions.
Though I loved that photo more than the others, every single one was precious, and I downloaded them to my laptop to look at them whenever I wanted, not to mention show them to my daughter when she eventually asked about her father.
I spent the entire day looking over the photos and thinking about Ranger, especially the times we spent together. I might be delusional, but I feel like he may have started to soften his stance toward relationships. Maybe he would have changed his mind altogether if we'd had more time together. Now, I guess I'll never know.
Saturday, January 8, 2022
Dear Diary,
I kept myself busy enough after Ranger was declared Missing in Action. Between work, preparing for the baby—I was seven months pregnant now and in some sort of weird nesting phase—and continuing my cooking lessons with Cheryl on weekends, I didn't have much time to obsess over Ranger's disappearance. I was starting to move more slowly and clumsily, and as much as I loved sleep before I was pregnant, I loved it even more now. It wasn't uncommon for me to fall asleep at eight p.m. and sleep until morning, but I did have to get up to pee more often.
By the time I hit eight months, I was done with this whole pregnancy thing. Between the fatigue, feeling like an elephant, and weird Braxton Hicks contractions, I was ready to have the baby and vowed never to do this again.
The night before I gave birth, I went to bed early, but I could not get comfortable and slept very poorly. Five minutes after midnight, I was awakened by a sharp pain in my abdomen. It was still two weeks until my due date, so I wasn't sure what was happening. I grabbed my baby book and started reading about labour. The pains were still irregular and not frequent, so I decided not to worry about it. I took a warm bath and tried to relax, but at two a.m. I couldn't stand it anymore. I got dressed, grabbed my bag and called an Uber to take me to the hospital. Even if they wouldn't admit me, I'd stay in their waiting room. I was too freaked out to be alone, and it was too late to call Cheryl.
When I finally gave birth eleven hours later, the nurse congratulated me and laid my daughter on my chest. What she said shook me to my core, and I couldn't believe I had forgotten.
"Congratulations, Miss Plum. You have a beautiful baby girl. She's healthy, weighing seven pounds, four ounces, and 18.5 inches long. She was born at 1:12 p.m. on August 12th, 2021." She was smiling, and I was, too, before I realized the date's significance—Ranger's birthday.
Monday, January 10, 2022
Dear Diary,
My family visited about a week after I'd been sent home with my daughter, whom I had decided to name Faith Carlotta Plum. I was beyond exhausted. Faith was adorable, but she didn't seem to like sleeping as much as I did. Dad and Grandma Mazur were enamoured with the baby, and my mom was too, but she was so helpful and spent a lot of her time cleaning the house and cooking meals for me to freeze. It was completely the opposite of what I expected, but it wasn't unwelcome. Grandma and my dad left after two days, but my mom said she'd stay another week to help me if I wanted her to. Since she was being helpful and not critical, I asked her to stay for another week, so she sent them off with a wave and a smile. Cheryl, Ace, and some of the other guys from Rangeman I'd gotten most friendly with came over a couple of weeks after my mom left. They cooed over Faith and told me how great I looked. Tank, Bobby, and Lester even visited Boston for a week and dropped in on me.
When it was just Faith and me at home, I held her and told her about her dad—how brave and noble he was, how loyal he was to his friends, and how much I loved him. I showed her pictures, even though I knew she probably couldn't see well yet. I never wanted her to feel like she didn't know who he was.
When Faith was a month old, I resumed working from home. Faith and I had developed a good routine, and I was less exhausted (but still generally tired). She started to sleep for longer stretches, and I took advantage of the free time to finish some work. I had finally run out of food my mom made, but I kept up with Cheryl's idea of meal planning on Sundays. Faith and I spent the entire day in the kitchen, and I kept her entertained and occupied while the food was cooking.
Faith looked more and more like her father. Her skin had darkened quite a bit after she was born, and her skin tone was closer to Ranger's than mine. She had dark brown hair like Ranger's, but it was beginning to take on a curl like mine. Impossibly long lashes framed her chocolate brown eyes. She was beautiful, and I could stare at her for hours while she slept, though, of course, she never slept for more than three hours at a time.
It's been almost a year since Ranger missed his first check-in. He's never far from my thoughts, but as this anniversary approaches, he's been at the forefront of my mind more often.
But I wonder if I should start thinking about moving on. I don't want to be alone forever.
Tuesday, January 11, 2022
Dear Diary,
When I wrote yesterday that I thought I should start thinking about moving on, I was crazy. I am lonely, but even the thought of being with someone else was like a punch in the gut yesterday that kept on punching me when I least expected it. Ranger was on my mind all day yesterday, and I still can't stop thinking about him.
Looking at Faith is a little bittersweet. She looks so much like him and has taken after him in other ways. She seems very aware of her surroundings and is watchful and focused. She is still solely breastfeeding, but I get the feeling she's not going to be my junk food buddy like the mother and daughter on Gilmore Girls.
I think I started to get the hang of the motherhood thing around the two-month mark. I could nearly always figure out why she was crying or how to entertain her so she wouldn't cry. I even felt more confident bathing her, which scared the crap out of me at first because she was so slippery.
I still talked on the phone with my friends back in Trenton, but it wasn't the same. I had little in common with Connie and Lula now, and Mary Lou was so busy, but she was a font of baby knowledge when I had no idea what to do.
Since Faith's birth, Cheryl had been coming over two or three times a week to help or engage me in adult conversation for a while. Cheryl was the one who first suggested I start to think about moving on because she had some inside scoop.
She asked me if I remembered Jack from the office, referring to the head medic from Rangeman Boston. When I nodded, she continued to tell me he has had a crush on me since I moved here, and now that I've had the baby, he asked her to subtly get a reading on how I'd react if he asked me out.
I was stunned. He had a crush on me when I was heavily pregnant? He'd date a single mom of an infant? I asked if she was serious, and she said she was. Then, I asked if I thought he was cute.
Of course, he was good-looking. All the Rangemen are. It's like an unwritten rule or something. But I had never looked at him, or any of the other Boston Rangemen, like that.
Cheryl and I talked about him briefly, but when I said I didn't think I could go out with him, she gently reminded me that I might not be ready yet. And I may not want to go out with Jack or anyone else I work with. But at some point, I have to move on. It's not healthy to sit here and pine for someone who's not coming back. It's not healthy to be alone for my whole life.
I thought about what she said, and I knew, on some level, she was right. But that damn ache in my chest told me I wasn't ready yet.
Saturday, January 15, 2022
Dear Diary,
Life was pretty routine over the next couple of months. I continued to work from home and take care of Faith. I started taking her outside to the park for walks. I still wanted to lose another ten pounds of baby weight to fit more comfortably in my old clothes, and Faith seemed to enjoy looking around, too.
The other day, Tank called. January 18th will mark one year since Ranger went missing, and the Army is going to declare him officially Killed in Action. Ranger's parents want to hold a memorial service next weekend, and they'd like me to come. As far as I know, they don't know about Faith, but they do know about me from the few stories Ranger would tell them about my various mishaps. They know we were close, but I'm unsure if they know how close we were. Maybe it's one of those mother's intuition things, and his mom can sense it. I told Tank I'd think about it and get back to him. Was I ready to face the future without him? Was I ready to see him memorialized?
After I put Faith down for a nap, I flopped onto my bed in my thinking position. Faith should have his family if she couldn't have her father. My family wasn't big, and though I got along better with my mom these days now that she wasn't pushing me to date every loser in the 'Burg or worse, get back together with Morelli, it was still just a handful of people on my side of the family tree. I was nervous about facing Ranger's family, but if the Merry Men would come with me, I thought I could handle it.
Tuesday, January 18, 2022
Dear Diary,
Today's the day. One year. Ranger's gone.