One September Morning by Rosalind Noonan Read Free Book Online Page A

dishes.
    With so many soldiers from Fort Lewis deployed in Iraq, Sharice has been a part of this process more times than she’d ever imagined. The war has taken a huge toll on the men who serve, and their families, and sometimes Sharice wonders if the rest of the country is half aware of the sacrifices that have been made by military families.
    With an apologetic gesture, Mitch makes an apology to the young chaplain as he moves around the circle of chairs. When Sharice meets Mitch’s eyes, his look is sobering, and she gathers her notes and purse, knowing it’s time to make a notification.
    “Sharice,” he says softly, “would you step outside with us?”
    “Of course.” She excuses herself as she quietly rises from her chair and follows Mitch to the door.
    “Are the other women from the FRG outside?” she asks once they’re outside the door. Although she’s tucked her notepad away, she’s not happy to be wearing chartreuse dress shorts for such a somber task. She smooths down the hem of her black tank top. “I’d like to go home and change.”
    “No.” The reluctant tone of Mitch’s voice snaps her head up. The gray pallor of his face makes panic bubble up inside her. “We’re here to talk to you, Sharice.”
    Me?
    She thinks of Jim, who is at the NCO Academy this very minute. Could it be…? No, more likely it’s the boys, Noah and John, assigned to a Forward Operating Base in the al-Anbar Province, that vast no-man’s-land in western Iraq.
    Oh, dear Lord, her boys…
    Whoever it is, let him be injured, she prays. Wounded. Able to heal.
    Despite the heated panic in her chest, Sharice maintains her composure as she follows the men out of the building, into the cool, surreal sunshine of the small Northwest garden. Mitch invites her to sit with him on a bench beside yellow black-eyed Susans and a wild lavender bush, and her heart is thudding so furiously she can barely hear the details when he tells her that there’s been a casualty in her sons’ unit in Fallujah.
    She holds up a hand to stop the white-washing words. “One of my boys?”
    “John.”
    Her eldest. “Is he dead?” she asks.
    “Yes.”
    The earth’s rotation comes to a crashing halt, its momentum a stone on her chest.
    Her oldest, her firstborn. The impact squeezes a squeal from her throat that resembles the cry of a wounded animal.
    Mitch squeezes her hand as the other soldier glances away, awkwardly.
    Don’t do this to yourself, Sharice thinks. Do not lose control; it is not your way.
    “And John’s wife has been notified?” she asks.
    Mitch Preston assures her that she has, as well as Jim. “Jim was the one who told us where to find you,” he says.
    All right, then that part is done.
    “I need to go home,” she says, rising.
    “Of course.” Mitch slides his arm around her waist, as if he’s escorting an elderly woman when, really, she can walk just fine.
    Sharice wants to drive home, but Mitch insists it’s the least they can do.
    During the ride, inside the shell of her skull, her mind checks off the to-do list. She’ll have to call the salon and have Mindy cancel her appointments. Though there’s no need for Jim to come home right now if they need him at the academy. She’ll get those boneless pork chops started in the Crock-Pot, and she can make a large portion of rice in the steamer Joyce loaned her. Sharice will call the rest of the family. Madison will be crushed, and Noah…the army will send him home for the funeral.
    She needs to touch base with Abby soon to warn her that scads of people will be stopping over to pay their respects. Sharice will stop by the bakery for fresh rolls and bread, and maybe Eva will bring a cold cut platter…
    “You know,” Mitch says as he turns toward base housing, “considering John’s popularity and his reputation as a football star, a burial at Arlington Cemetery might be appropriate.”
    “Yes.” She nods, visualizing the hills of white gravestones and a dark limousine