The bright lights in the false pine tree light up my son's face as he plays with a toy truck his father got him before he left. The only noise in the room is the fake engine noises Sam makes as he drives his truck up the length of my leg. He throws the truck to the side and jumps into my lap, laughing happily. I kiss the top of his head and turn my head back to the muted T.V. where the news plays. I grab the remote and unmute it.
I gently tickle my son's stomach and he laughs out loud when I hear the news announcer, "Twenty military soldiers were killed in an explosion today. Many of the soldiers will remain unidentifiable due to the destruction caused by the bomb."
I feel my heart tremble in my chest, I can only hope Mark is safe.
"Hey, Mommy?" My son grabs my attention, "Is Daddy okay?"
I quickly mask my worry with a fake smile, "Daddy's fine, everything is okay."
"Do you think he'll be home by Christmas?" Sam asks as he climbs off of my lap, almost hitting me in the face with his elbow in the process.
"Sweetie, Christmas is tomorrow. If he isn't here right now, so I don't think he'll be here by Christmas. But I know he'll be here soon! He can't go without seeing his son forever!"
"No Mommy! You're wrong! Daddy will be here I just know it! He will be here! He will!" Sam yells as he thrusts his tiny balled up fists to his side.
I sigh and agree with him to calm him down, "Yes, honey, you're right. I'm sorry I said he wouldn't be. Now go get ready for bed, Santa needs all the little boys in the house to be asleep when he comes."
"Okay, Mommy! I'm going to be sound asleep when Santa comes!" Sam starts to run to his room and I here a small crash followed by, "I'm okay!" His little footsteps pick back up and his door closes. God, he's definitely Mark's son.
I smile at the memory of Mark trying to surprise me with some sort of breakfast in bed. He called my name and I woke up just enough to see Mark kick open the door and completely trip over his own feet, spilling food everywhere. It wasn't nearly as romantic as Mark thought it would be but it made for good memories that we had together.
I gently wipe my eyes as I yawn, walking toward me and Mark's shared bedroom. I still consider it our bedroom though Mark hasn't stepped foot in it in almost two years.
It suddenly dawns on me how long ago the last time I saw my husband was. I feel my heart shake and start to crack. I miss my husband, I miss the love of my life. I can only hope he is still alive, that he is still a whole person that can come home to be a father to our son, a living person that I can love.
I quickly strip down and get into my pajamas and crawl under the covers, knowing I'll have to get up in a few hours to go put 'Santa's' gifts under the Christmas tree.
I long to feel Marks heavy arm wrap it's self around my waist, for him to quietly kiss my neck and whisper to me that he loves me as I fall asleep in his strong arms.
-
The loud alarm set for 3 A.M. screams at me to walk up and I groan as I reach my arm over to silence it. My hand doesn't touch my phone but rather a large solid figure. I lift my head expecting it to be Sam who crawled in bed with me.
It's not.
My eyes widen as I take in my smiling husband who lays there with a large bow resting on his chest. I nearly rip my hand away when he tries to laces his with mine. His other hand places itself on the back of my head and pulls me down to his face, placing his soft, almost foreign, lips to mine.
"Mark? Is it really you?" Tears blur my vision and start to run down my face.
"Yeah, baby, it's really me." A soft smile works its way onto the face I haven't been able to see in years. Years.
Realization fills me and I throw myself on top of him. The feeling of his strong arms on my waist triggers something in me and I start to sob. I cry violently into his chest. I lift my tear-stained face to look at his. My fingers gently glide over his cheekbones, his lips, and his jawline that still has the messy stubble I missed brushing against my cheeks as he kissed me.
My God, it really is him.
"Come on, baby, let's go to bed."
"Mark, have you ever seen your son yet?" I ask as I snuggle my face into his hard chest, my hand squeezing his tightly.
"That's his surprise," Mark grins.
"Okay, baby."
Not another word was said between us, we just stared at each other, studying the changes that had become of us. Mark hadn't changed all that much, his still my lovable husband, but now he just fought for our country.
He kept me safe, our son safe. America's people safe.
I would never be able to thank him enough.
-
"Baby, time to wake up, I can't feel my legs," he laughs as he tries to shake me awake. I peel my eyes open and look up at him. We hadn't let go of each other all night.
"Hi," I say.
"Hey." His deep voice rings throughout my ears and I smile up at him. I lean forward slightly and peck his lips.
"As much as I would love to stay here all day, it's Christmas Day, I have a son I need to see, and I currently have no feeling in my legs." I unwrap him from my death grip and sit up. I huff and get off of Mark slowly.
"So, how are you going to surprise Sam?"
-
"Sam!" I call, "Come on! It's Christmas!" Little feet come running at the sound of my voice. Sam dashes into the room and gasps in surprise. Mark just had decided to sit down on the couch with me so Blake could find him.
"Daddy!" He yells and runs to Mark, jumping into his lap.
"Hey, you little monster!" Mark smiles down at his son and gently kiss his cheek.
"See, Mommy! I told you! I told you Daddy would be here!" Sam shouts at me.
"I'm sorry I doubted you, honey. You were right, Daddy is here and he's home."
