Veil of Silence (30 page)

“Mommy?” a little girl’s far-away voice sounded.  Marsha could barely hear it above the noises of that machine.  The little boy finally lost and when he didn’t have any more tokens to insert, he took his few tickets and left.  As the noise died away she heard, “Mommy?” and turned to see Hayley looking at her, concerned. 

“Yes, baby,” she answered after she had blinked a few times, trying to pretend that nothing had happened.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she announced importantly, her fist grasping a big wad of tickets.

Marsha got up and let the child lead her to the bathroom.  “Do you need help?” she asked as she watched Hayley look for an empty stall.

“I’m a big girl now, Mommy,” she said exasperatedly, as though Marsha had insulted her.  She handed Marsha her all-important tickets and went into a stall by herself. 

Marsha held the tickets as she looked into the mirror.  She could see the sweat on her brow and using her free hand, she cupped some water from the faucet and washed it off.  Taking a towel, she wiped her face and neck down.  She held out her hand.  It was still shaking a little, but not nearly as bad as it had been.

“All done, Mommy,” Hayley said next to her elbow and Marsha helped her wash her hands and handed her a towel.  Once her hands were dry, she led the way out of the bathroom.

“How about we see what we can get with your tickets?” Marsha suggested, ready to call it a night.  She didn’t realize how many cheap choices there would be.  Then Hayley got it into her head that she should bring something for her brothers and sisters.  “I don’t think Liam would notice,” she said as the little girl tried to get him something.  “You can’t afford that,” was another familiar refrain as Hayley looked at the bigger ticket items.  Finally, she had presents for her siblings, including a little teddy bear for Liam and a big plastic ring for Mom and they left Chuck E. Cheese’S.

“Did you have fun?” Marsha asked as she made sure Hayley was buckled in.

“Yes, Mommy.  Can we have date night every week?”

Marsha laughed, but thinking about the sweating experience she had, thought maybe not.

CHAPTER TWENTY

A special delivery envelope arrived on Saturday and Marsha, who had hoped that Captain McKellan had handled things in regards to Zabi, had a minor panic attack.  She recognized the signs from the night before.  The sweaty palms, the shakes, and the feeling of unease.  Opening the envelope, she was actually thrilled to read the letter from the captain.  He had arranged to have birth certificates made for both Bahir and Amir.  Since she had no idea of their exact birthdates, they had to use approximate dates around the time of year she could remember.  All three of her Afghan children were now American citizens and it was even less likely that Zabi’s case could go forward.  Liam, because he was born here, was extra special in her mind.  The other two were now protected legally.

“What’s that?” Heather asked cautiously.  She hadn’t missed the expression on Marsha’s face as she opened the letter.  She saw the sheen of sweat across her wife’s brow.

“The children’s birth certificates,” Marsha said, showing them to her.  The crisp papers and the official seals on each of them made them look even nicer. 

“I got Liam’s the other day in the mail.  I meant to show you,” she answered, as she felt the embossed seal under her fingertips.

“Well, wherever we keep these, they can be put in that safe place,” she said confidently, pleased with the situation.

“We better get a safe deposit box then.  I’ve just been keeping them in a file folder along with our marriage certificate and Hayley’s birth certificate.”

Marsha rolled her eyes, but if it worked for her wife, she guessed that was the best she could do.  She did, however, make a mental note to do just that, get a safety deposit box.  “What about my insurance papers or anything else of importance?”

“Same file folder box,” Heather confirmed.  She got up to show Marsha the envelope that Liam’s birth certificate was in.  She was reading Bahir’s and was surprised to see that under father, her own name was listed.  “They don’t make these unisex do they?”

Marsha had wondered if that would be an issue.  “No, not yet,” she confirmed.  As she looked at Liam’s, she saw the State of Illinois had merely crossed out father and put spouse.  That seemed odd.  Both Bahir’s and Amir’s ‘father’ was listed as Heather Gagliano.  She smiled.  It would be harder for anyone of Zabi’s tribe or family to find these children. 

* * * * *

Having recovered from childbirth and been given the time to heal both mentally and physically, Marsha was becoming a little stir-crazy.  She wasn’t a housewife.  She knew staying home with the kids would eventually drive her crazy.  Watching Heather with them though, she was amazed at how happy it made her.  The house might not be picture-perfect, but the children were happy with their mom. 

“We should maybe get bunk beds, and perhaps a pullout bed underneath,” Marsha suggested to Heather.  She enjoyed shopping.  The first time the cupboards had been filled, she saw that her wife had gazed reverently at the supplies before closing the door.  The full refrigerator and freezer meant they had complete meals every day.  Marsha cooked when she could to relieve Heather of those duties since she took such excellent care of their family.

“We really should watch how we spend money.  That lump sum isn’t going to be there always,” she pointed out.  She’d been alarmed at how quickly it had gone down with the purchase of the van.  It scared her.  After years of making do, she was afraid that having the luxury of a running vehicle, a full pantry, and her wife home wouldn’t last.

“You have to admit the kids can’t camp out much longer on the floor of Hayley’s room.”

“This is true,” she agreed and they packed up the kids to go shopping for a sturdy bed.  Having four children in a two-bedroom house really wasn’t practical and Heather began to think about Marsha’s suggestion to move.  That would have to wait until her career was decided.  As the sole bread winner of their household, it would depend on her decision to stay in the military or not.  Heather had already made her preference known.  She had thought she would be going back to work herself this fall, but not now, not with all these children under the age of six at home.

They debated over safety rails, wood versus metal, and many other considerations as they shopped.  The children were no help and Marsha was stern as she ordered first Hayley and then Bahir off the beds they were trying to bounce on.  She was angry by the time she pulled Amir off the ladder of another one.

“Maybe single beds and the girls share?” she suggested at one point.

“We could get two sets of bunk beds and then when Liam is old enough Amir could move up to the top bed,” Heather suggested.

They finally found a bunk bed with a trundle that rolled out from under the bottom bunk.  That would do for now until the children were older.  They chose sturdy mattresses that could stand the test of time and any bed-wetting that might occur.  Buying new mattress covers and sheet sets, they had to go with what Bahir and Hayley agreed on for the one set, and chose a plain blue set for Amir.  The ponies on the girls’ set, which was in pink, were pretty against the blue.

“You realize we are setting some stereotypes here,” Marsha pointed out as she paid the bill by writing a check.

“Blue for boys and pink for girls?” Heather laughed.

“Yes, exactly.  I mean if Liam or Amir liked pretty pink ponies, we should have gotten that.”

“I didn’t hear Liam put in a vote,” her wife pointed out as she carried the basket containing their son who gurgled happily.

Marsha laughed as Heather meant her to.  She was amazed at how expensive this trip had been.  Then she shook her head…children in general were expensive.  They took their purchases and went home, having arranged for the delivery of the furniture the following week.

* * * * *

“I’ll be going back to work soon,” Marsha lamented after her weeks off for maternity leave.  She was playing with Liam on his blanket, delighting in his smiles.

“Why didn’t you get more time off this pregnancy?” Heather frowned at her wife’s announcement.

“Because apparently they changed the rules while I was gone.  It went from eighteen weeks down to twelve.”

“That sucks.”  She was folding clothes.  The new washer and dryer they owned meant they didn’t have to lug their dirty laundry to the laundromat anymore.

Marsha had to agree.  Although she still went to the military base once a week to talk to the SERE psychologist, she was becoming stir crazy.  She wanted her family life, but she also needed to become useful again.  She felt she was wasting her time at home, although the kids had been a riot.  Both Amir and Bahir had become very American kids and her relationship with Hayley was great.  She enjoyed Liam, but hated breastfeeding and, after six weeks, had weaned him to formula.  She just hated his pulling on her nipples.  It had hurt too much.

“Do you know what you are going to do?” Heather asked the seemingly innocent question.  She’d wondered, but Marsha hadn’t yet told her the plans she had in regards to her career.

“I was hoping that Captain McKellan would have gotten me my lieutenant colonel promotion by now,” she said bitterly.  She really wanted that extra money as a buffer against her retirement, if that was what she decided on.  That way, any civilian job she took she wouldn’t have to be dependent upon it.

“Have you heard from him?”

“Not since he mailed us the birth certificates.  I’ve seen him on the base and we exchange nods, but otherwise nothing.”  She didn’t tell her wife that he also hadn’t apprised her of what had happened with Zabi’s request for his children.  She was almost afraid to ask him.

“Perhaps you should go see him,” her wife pointed out, not knowing the thoughts swirling around in Marsha’s head.

“I’ll see him officially soon enough.”

Heather frowned, wondering at that remark.

Marsha didn’t realize how prophetic her flippant remark would be as she was called to the base before her maternity leave was officially up.

“Major Gagliano reporting, sir,” she reported to Colonel Brenson who was back from Afghanistan.

“Major, I believe you know the captain?” he gestured to someone sitting outside her range of vision.  She turned slightly to see Captain McKellan sitting there, a grin on his face as he waved at her with his fingers, Laurel and Hardy fashion.

“Captain,” she acknowledged him, frowning at the odd wave.  She turned back to the colonel, standing at attention.

“Major, it is my proud duty to inform you that you have been promoted to lieutenant colonel,” the colonel told her.

“Sir?” she asked, confused.

Colonel Brenson smiled at her.  “Captain McKellan has been fighting hard for you and managed to point out the error of its ways to the army.”

“He means I blackmailed them,” Lance interjected with a laugh.

“Well, officially, that is not what happened.  The major deserved this promotion and would have received it in due course,” the colonel quickly put in.  “He did, however, get it retroactive for a mere year and not the two years you were going for.  They will be depositing the back pay in your account.”

“One year, sir?”

“Yes, the captain was going for the two years that you deserved; however, there was some objection to that.  Also, there were arguments about whether you were actually a prisoner of war or merely a captive.”

“I used their arguments against them,” Lance put in.  “They weren’t all effective, but then your mother opened her mouth.”

“My mother?” she frowned, trying to follow their train of thought.

“Apparently your mother gave an interview with one of the local channels, thanking the army for bringing her daughter home,” the colonel informed her.

“She was told not–” she wondered that her father had been able to keep her quiet this long.  She knew her mother wasn’t happy that she had denied her access to Liam and this was her revenge.  She gritted her teeth, trying to be happy about the promotion.

“I believe these are for you,” the colonel continued, handing her a box containing her silver oak leaf.  He watched as she removed the gold epaulettes and replaced them with the silver.  He also handed her the paperwork that directed her promotion.  “I’ll expect you back next week, helping me.”

“Helping you, sir?” she was still reeling at the news.

“Yes, as lieutenant colonel, you will be my assistant.”

What Marsha heard was that she would be a glorified secretary to the colonel and that did not appeal.  She was a computer specialist for Christ’s sake!

“Yes, sir.  Of course, sir,” she answered respectfully, never letting her thoughts show.

“You can go now,” he dismissed her with a smile.

“Marsha,” Lance stopped her before she could leave. 

She looked at him with a questioning look, waiting for him to say what he needed to say.  She was surprised by his informal use of her first name.

“You may want to talk to your mother,” he advised.

She was surprised at the request and not pleased at all.  If it was an order, she could cope better, but the thought of dealing with her mother did not appeal.  She understood though, the army did not want a black eye.  Her mother and the tactics she had taken on her disappearance could not be repeated.  She nodded at his request as she turned and walked out of the colonel’s office.