Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Speaking of home, I miss you.
All my love.
Your wife
I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little choked up at her generosity. She not only thought of me, but of every person in my unit, and the entire school pitched in. The community. I knew my wife was incredible, and this just shows the beauty that she holds inside.
And she’s all mine.
“What’s with all the boxes?” Timothy, one of the guys, asks.
“Care packages from my wife. Have at it. You all are welcome to anything you want. Her students drew some pictures as well. Some for each of us.”
Faith didn’t say that specifically, but I know my wife well enough to know she would want everyone to have one.
“Damn, you married one of the good ones, Anthony,” Michaels says, as he and a few others grab a box to open them. They unpack each of them with care, placing all the items in a pile on two of the cots.
Once it’s all unpacked, they take turns grabbing the things they need. The entire time, I sit on the edge of my bed. Tired, sweaty, hungry, covered in sand, my feet throbbing from the hours of walking in the desert, and a smile on my face. I’m grounded with love for the woman who holds my last name.
Suddenly, the only thing that matters is hearing her voice. Grabbing my phone, I rush out to my spot so that I can call her. It’s late there, but I need to see if I can reach her. I run up the hill, and I’m panting when I dial her number. All the ailments I was just whining about in my head are long since forgotten. All I can think about is hearing her sweet voice.
“Chad?”
I sigh. “Hey, baby.”
“Is everything okay?”
“It is now.”
“It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I got the boxes today. I opened mine. The guys opened the others. I haven’t looked through mine or read your letters, but I’m going to. I needed to call you. I needed to hear your voice and thank you. I wish you could have seen the smiles on their faces. You did that, baby. You wanted to bring us a piece of home, and you did that and so much more. Some of them, they don’t get letters or packages from home. Thank you. This is an incredible surprise.”
She clears her throat. “I wanted to. I’m so glad everyone liked them.”
“They loved them, baby. Hell, they’re asking me if my wife has a sister.”
“Just a brother, and he’s taken.” Her laugh flows through the line.
“You’re mine. Just remember that.”
“Of course I am. We have the paperwork to prove it,” she teases.
“You’re damn right we do. We should frame it. Hang it on the wall.”
“Maybe by our wedding photo.”
“Did you hang one of us up in the house?” I don’t know why the thought of that makes my heart race.
“Umm sure, we’ll go with one.” She chuckles.
“Baby, I don’t care if it’s a shrine to the day you became mine. I’m good with it.”
“You might change your mind when you see it.”
“Nah, not ever.” I want her to make the house our home. I want her invested. I want the idea of her leaving to be devastating. She belongs there with me. “Hey, I was thinking. We should set up a time where I can call you while you’re in class. I can wrangle a few people together in the comms tent and we can call in and thank your students for the pictures and all of the goodies.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“That’s the least that we can do. I’ll look at the schedule of when I’ll be available while you’re teaching and text it to you. It’ll be fun. Besides, I’ll get to see Mrs. Anthony in action with her students.”
“Chad, they’ll love that. They’ve asked so many questions about who the letters were going to. To be able to see some of you, you’re going to make their day. Mine too.”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll text you as soon as I know something. Hopefully, service doesn’t flake out on us again.”
“Whenever. It doesn’t have to be right away. Thank you. I’m so excited.”
I can feel my face stretch with my smile. “Anything for my wife and her students.”
“How was your day?”
I go on to tell her, trying not to complain too much, but still describing the heat, the sand, and the long-ass days on our feet. “I still need to shower and grab some dinner.”
“Oh, I’ll let you go.”
“I needed to talk to you before I did anything else. I was missing you. Two weeks with no letters or calls… that’s more than I ever want to do again.”
“It was rough for me, too, but you’ll be home soon.”
“Do you get vacation time?” I ask her.