Small Blessings

Chapter 11

December 24, 2020

I swung the ax as Niall flinched behind me. "I do wish you'd let me do this part, Aoibheann." (Pronounced "Ay-Veen") I continued swinging and chopping while Niall continued pacing a safe distance behind me.

"Please, Aoibheann," he pleaded, wearing me down. "Just give me the blade. You're making my blood pressure rise just watching you."

"Uncle Niall," I panted through swings, the large Douglas Fir's needles and branches prickling the skin at my wrist. I was wearing a small pair of skin-tight leather gloves. They were smooth as butter and warm as all get out. My brother had given them to me, and I felt an irrational sense of attachment towards them. With his deployment this past month, added to Daddy's prolonged capture, I was a ravaged tangle of nervous energy.

Hacking into the tree before me provided a perverse sense of pleasure I was embarrassed to cop to. Niall thought it would be a good idea to go to the tree farm together this year; to get our mind off things, and focus on something festive, if that was possible.

Niall and I were the only ones who knew about Daddy's capture, and Dillon's participation in his pending escape. When Daddy was first taken, we decided not to tell my mother about it.

Why put her through that worriment?

Nothing but heartache would befall her by knowing about Daddy's imprisonment. With his line of work, it's not like Mother would suspect anything. She was used to long-term radio-silent missions.

Of course, at the time of our agreement, I thought it was a good idea. My faith in both Dillon and the government's ability to rescue Daddy and bring him quickly home was ironclad.

But that was 12 months ago.

12 months!

It's been a whole year and he hasn't returned yet.

And mother still doesn't know.

When the Russians invaded this past November, declaring war on the United States, I could barely run to the bathroom fast enough.

An immediate draft was instigated and off my brother went to fight in a war Daddy had already been a secret prisoner of all this time.

And I had to stand by idle, waving my brother off, as my mother dried her eyes with tissues, and I leaned on Niall's shoulder to weep.

"Aoibheann," Niall whispered quietly next to me, bringing me back to the present. "Come on. I'll finish it from here."

When Niall grasped the limp ax from my hand, he let it drop onto the needle-blanketed floor and held me tight, letting me cry for the umpteenth time this month.

Dillon promised me he'd get Daddy back from the Russians. While his mother and I had been close when I was younger, Jane was very compartmentalized. She kept a strict wall between her family life and her work life. Consequently, I knew a lot about Jane but very little about her son, Dillon. It made me insecure, loath as I was to admit this weakness.

That said, Dillon had saved my life, taking a bullet for me without thought or concern for his own welfare. I knew he wouldn't come back without my father. I couldn't help but worry, though. And my little trip to cut down a tree with my Godfather was turning into a tearfest instead of the cheerful Christmas distraction Niall was hoping for.

Dear God: Please bring them all home safely.