What Matters Most

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Authors: Reana Malori

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BOOK: What Matters Most
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What Matters Most
 

by

Reana Malori

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

 

© 2014 Reana Malori

Editor: Katriena Knights

Cover Art: Marteeka Karland

 

Books are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

 

Major Evan Knight was a battle-hardened man who had always put the Marine Corps before his own needs.  Sierra Walker, a single mother raising an nine-year old son, wanted more from life than what was in front of her.  A school project for her son would bring Major Knight into their lives and give them all something they never knew they needed...each other.

Chapter One
 

 

February…

 

Dear Major Knight,

I’m glad you liked the picture I sent. My mom said she wanted to frame it, but I told her that you needed it more to help you smile. I can draw her one later. I tried to look for you on the television when they talk about the war, but my mom won’t let me watch the news anymore because she says it makes me upset. It doesn’t, but she’s just a girl and doesn’t understand how tough boys are.

Your email said how busy things were and how excited you were to come home in a few months. Are you still busy? Do you have time to play games or anything when you’re not working? My mom signed me up for baseball again this year. I’m not very good, but she says it will help me build character. Whatever that is. My mom said she’ll send you the dates of my games. Promise you’ll come see me play, okay? Okay, I have to go now.

Bye.

Your friend, Dusty Walker

*****

Dear Dusty,

Hey there buddy. The picture you sent is displayed proudly on my wall. All the guys say you must be a junior Picasso. I’m staying very busy keeping all my Marines out of trouble and sometimes I get to play games, but I prefer reading a good book instead.

Don’t worry about watching the news. Sometimes the things they talk about aren’t very good, so I can understand why your mother wouldn’t want you to watch that stuff. Baseball is a great sport and I played all through school and college until I joined the Marines. While I can’t make any promises, I’ll do my best to come and see one of your games.

All right, I’m going to go now. I hope you’re keeping up good grades in school and being good for your mother. See ya, buddy.

Your friend, Major Evan Knight

*****

Dusty signed off of his email account, closed the computer, and scampered into the kitchen where his mother was cooking dinner. Excitement coursed through his nine-year-old body as he hollered, “Mom! Major Knight sent me another email! He says he’s gonna try to come see me play a baseball game. Can you believe it?”

Pouring more pancake mix onto the griddle, Sierra Walker tilted her head to one side and chuckled at the glee she heard in her son’s voice. The social studies project at his school had been a blessing in disguise. When his teacher had initially given the assignment to write to a military serviceperson in Afghanistan or Iraq, worry had filled her. There were so many concerns parading through her mind that she decided to have a discussion with the teacher before approving his participation. Some would call her a worrywart or overprotective, but she didn’t care; she did not want her baby hurt by something he couldn’t control.

She knew if Dusty started this project and something happened to the person Dusty was writing to, he would be devastated. Her meeting with his teacher alleviated most of her concerns. But it was her own commitment to allowing Dusty the opportunity to grow up and have new experiences that gave her hope and peace of mind that this project might be good for him. Hoping this letter-writing project would help him break out of his shell, she gave permission for him to participate.

Sierra turned away from the stove and fixed her motherly gaze on her only child. Love, like nothing else she had known before, filled her heart whenever she looked at him. How anyone could deny this beautiful child was simply beyond her, and she would never understand why his father continued to do so. Child support payments arrived every month, but that was only a means to an end. The payments were made simply because his biological father never wanted to bother with court appearances or have the stigma of being labeled a “deadbeat dad.” Joe was a great businessman and could handle himself quite well in a room full of his colleagues, but he seemed to become paralyzed at the thought of being a father. If only she had realized this when they had been seeing each other for more than a year and before she told him about her pregnancy. Sierra did her best, but raising a boy and helping him become a young man was not easy for a single mother. There were things only a father, or father figure, could teach him. While she had no intentions of rushing into a relationship or finding a man to be her baby’s daddy, she recognized the reality of the world and Dusty needed balance.

Sighing deeply, she clenched her hands briefly into tight fists as she recalled the numerous hoops she’d had to jump through in order to force Joe’s hand on the amount of child support she wanted for her son. His parents were willing to accept both of them as a part of their family, and for that she had been grateful, but after Joe’s parents had both passed away some years ago, that connection had become almost non-existent. Exhaling as she willed her emotions under control, she knew life was good for her and Dusty at this moment and nothing would change that.

Peering down at her son’s face as he smiled wide, she ruffled his hair. “Yes, honey. I think that’s great. Now, if he can’t make it, don’t be too upset. Okay? You know he’s a very busy man, and he may have other things he has to take care of when he comes home. When we have your final schedule, we’ll send it to him and make sure to send a special invitation for him to attend. Okay?”

“Okay, Mom. I understand, but I still think he’ll be there. He’s my friend. And he’s a Marine, and Marines always keep their promises.” Dusty pulled out the plates from the cabinet, opened the cabinet drawer, and pulled out two sets of silverware for dinner. “Having breakfast for dinner is so cool. None of my friends believe me when I tell them we have pancakes every Friday night.”

“Well, that’s because they don’t realize how awesome we are.” Looking around the kitchen counter, she realized the spatula needed to flip the pancakes was across the room and out of reach. “Hey, honey, grab me that spatula. I need to flip this soon.”

*****

Falling into bed later that evening, Sierra took a few deep breaths and tried to calm her nerves. The internal question of whether or not she should write Major Knight for advice continued to plague her mind, and the thoughts continued to churn as she settled in deeper under the covers. Sierra hesitated to share personal concerns with an almost-stranger, but she was at her wit’s end. Dusty had become extremely attached to him during these past three months, and his little heart would be broken if Major Knight did not show up to his baseball games.

During the past three months of the pen pal project, she had learned about him through his emails to Dusty. Never married, no kids, and the last twenty years of his life had been spent in the Marines. Starting his career in the Infantry, he went to school at night, earned his degree in business management, and had ultimately become an officer leading troops. The thing she appreciated so much about him was that he encouraged Dusty to read more books and not just play video games all the time. She knew some of Dusty’s friends had begun to make jokes about his love of reading, so when she saw the notes from Major Knight telling him how much he also loved reading books when he had free time, she breathed a sigh of relief. Showing Dusty a man could be tough, but educated at the same time, was something she was glad Major Knight was sharing with him.

If she were honest, the conversations between her and Major Knight had gone beyond the standard pen pal courtesies. There were several times when the late nights had gotten the best of them both and they had tentatively reached out to each other for a shoulder to lean on, a caring companion on the other side of the world who looked forward to hearing their voice, receiving that late-night email, or simply an ear to bend. After a while, it became the norm for her to anticipate messages that were earmarked for her eyes only--emails that talked about the challenges and hardships faced by Major Knight and his team. After these three months, she could admit the Major meant more to her than she would have anticipated or expected, and she wasn’t sure how to handle the feelings swirling inside of her.

As she snuggled under the covers a little more, Sierra couldn’t help thinking that she was tired of falling asleep alone each night. Her bed was becoming increasingly lonely and because dating had never been a priority, life had begun to revolve around her child. Making a good life for the two of them was, and always would be, her primary goal. But late at night, with the moon peeking through her curtains and the house quiet at the end of a very trying day, her heart knew something was missing. She wanted someone to hold her at night. A shoulder to lean on every once in a while so she did not always have to be the strong one would be nice.

Her deep sigh seemed to echo through her lonely room. Those types of dreams were for fairytales. She lived in the real world, where bills had to be paid, laundry had to be done, and knights in shining armor did not swoop in and make everything better. Determined to get some rest and to stop feeling sorry for herself, Sierra closed her eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

*****

April…

 

Major Evan Knight breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped off the plane. Man, he was glad to be home. Eighteen months in the desert was more than enough for him. It was easy to stand in front of his guys and keep a stiff upper lip, but at night when the threat of mortar attacks increased and he couldn’t run away from the thoughts racing through his mind, things would get tough. Some of the men in his unit had been injured, or killed, and the nightmares and cold sweats at night were getting old. His first tour was much worse, and he’d sworn he would never go back. However, two years later when he was ordered back to another eighteen-month deployment he saluted, packed his gear, and hopped on a transport.

Now that he was back in Bethesda, Maryland, the plan was simply to work a cushy job training Marines and civilians on counter-improvised explosive device techniques at some super-secret location and come home to his nice, air-conditioned home every evening. Evan could do the job with his eyes closed, and it would no longer involve sitting in a Humvee with four other guys, praying the insurgents didn’t take that opportunity to become a martyr. While he loved the Marines and would serve as long as he was able, it felt damn good to be home, at a place where he could feel safe, where he wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder, and could sleep at night without the sound of incoming mortar attacks ringing in his head.

Breathing in the crisp spring air, Evan looked around at the hustle and bustle of people arriving and departing Reagan National Airport. He noticed the car he’d ordered to take him home waiting for him at the curb. The driver stood stoically by, holding a sign with ”Major Knight” printed on it while looking around for the person who could possibly be his passenger. Evan made his way to the car and driver as he thought about his schedule for the next few hours. First things first--he needed to get home and get some regular food in his belly. After that, a shower and a nap—in that order—and then he had a little buddy to visit.

If he remembered correctly, Dusty had a game the next day. According to the most recent emails he had received from Sierra, his little buddy wasn’t doing that well and was becoming somewhat dejected because of it. Evan wanted to surprise his new friend at the field and give him some much-needed encouragement. This would be the first time he would see Dusty and his mother in person. Evan could admit that his insides were churning with trepidation. Although they wrote emails regularly, had exchanged a few pictures, and had even used Skype a couple of times, which allowed them to see each other over the computer screen, meeting them in person, without any barriers, would be totally different.

They had both come to mean so much to him over the months. Dusty’s emails kept him laughing each and every time he read them. The little boy reminded Evan of how he had been all those years ago, and he saw so much of himself in Dusty’s words and even his facial expressions when they talked over Skype. Those were the things that kept him going during the long, hot days of living in the desert. When he wrote to Dusty and Sierra two weeks ago, he had shared what day he thought he would be arriving so they would know to expect him. It just so happened he was able to get on a flight leaving a week earlier. They would be in for a surprise tomorrow, and he couldn’t wait to see their faces when he showed up at the field.

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