Soldier Boy

01

Carissa's POV

August 10th, 2005

I rocked Logan to sleep after his third feed of the night. His eyelids fluttered in his sleep and his right hand rested on my chest. He snored softly.

Mom and Dad stood in the doorway, watching. They had done that since I brought Logan home from the hospital.

I kissed his head and laid him in his crib, before shutting the door to the nursery.

"Does Cameron know?" Mom asked from the hallway.

Dad had his arms around her waist and smiled down at me.

"No, and it's better this way. I don't want him to come home early just because he has a son. After all, he left me. To chase bad guys in Iraq."

Dad sighed, looking at me with tired eyes.

"Baby, he didn't have a choice. It's his job; he has a duty to protect our country. He deserves to know about Logan."

I sighed, longing to go back into Logan's room so I could feel his presence. I felt naked and exposed without my infant son close by.

"I'll see you in the morning, okay?" I said to my parents as I opened the door and closed it.

~~~~

Logan aged quickly.

His frst birthday, second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth had flown by without realizing just how fast he was growing up. Growing up, without a father.

Every year on his birthday, he'd ask me to tell him about his dad.

I tried explaining everything. What he looked like, his hair color, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, just like Logan's does.

"Mom, when is he coming home?" Logan asked one night.

I finished tucking him into the bed, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

"He's saving the world, buddy. He'll come home soon," I said as I kissed his cheek, got up and closed the door behind me.

Sighing, I went into my own bedroom, laid on the bed, and pulled the journal out from my dresser drawer.

May 24, 2004

Cameron left early this morning to get shipped out. His commander said he isn't allowed to write home or video chat. I miss him and it's only been an hour.

I flipped to another entry, chuckling at the words.

June 24, 2004

I took a test today. It's positive. I'm a mom, like, to an actual tiny being. I can't tell Cam, he's busy. Maybe my parents and my brother won't be upset.

I flipped again.

February 10, 2005

Today, I delivered Logan Samuel. He's six pounds, eight ounces, and nineteen inches of chubbiness. He looks like the perfect mixture of Cam and I. I still miss him, everyday.

I shut the journal, lying it on the side of the bed I've never slept on. I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall. I listened to Logan's breathing in his room. That sound, the sound of my son, was so beautiful.

The front door of the apartment opened, and my brother's heavy footsteps sounded in the living room.

He walked to my bedroom.

"Hey, Cissy. Where's Logan? I brought him home some apple pie. It's his favorite," Nathan smiled.

"He's asleep. Mom let him do anything he wanted while she babysat him today. She does that now, you know. After dad's death, she started getting lonely. So Logan keeps her company," I said and glanced at the pie in his hands.