“And you do remember that Melody’s performance is tonight, right?”
Fuck!
Panic greater than any I’d ever known on the battlefield surged through my veins. It was only my many years of training that kept me from dropping the phone and allowed me to speak without choking.
“Of course,” I said as I tried to quietly pack up my desk so she wouldn’t hear me scrambling. “How could I forget that?”
“Uh huh,” she said again, and this time I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Make sure you pick up purple irises on the way. They’re her favorite flower right now.”
Throwing on my jacket, I ran for the door. “Already on my to-do list. I’ll be there soon.”
“I know you will,” she sighed. “You are at least always punctual. I’ll give you that.”
Then the line went dead.
No longer having to keep quiet, I ran faster.
Thirty minutes later,after a trip to the florist and with a bouquet of purple irises firmly in hand, I pulled up to the theater.
Chantal was waiting for me outside the front door. Standing off to the side of the crowd, she hadn’t seen me yet, and I stopped to watch her for a moment.
She’d recently changed her hair. The new look was longer than she usually preferred, almost reaching down to her waist. For the sake of tonight’s event, she’d left half of it loose while coiling half of it on top of her head in an elegant updo.
I was used to Chantal always changing her look. She owned a hair salon and loved using herself to experiment with new techniques. It wasn’t unusual for her to have a brand-new hairstyle every time I saw her, so I’d come to expect the differences.
What I didn’t expect was familiarity. She was wearing a green dress that fit her like a glove. I remembered that dress. It had always been one of my favorites on her due to the way it complimented her complexion.
She bought it years ago on our honeymoon.
We’d probably been idiots getting married so soon after high school. Especially, when we knew I would probably be shipping out overseas. So many couples couldn’t survive such long distances, but we’d thought we could be the exception.
We were wrong.
Our marriage lasted for a while. We were happy—at least, I think we were happy—and we made it work. Eventually, we had our daughter, Melody. It took longer than anticipated since my limited leave meant we didn’t have much time to “try” for a child. So, it wasn’t until I was thirty-five that I finally became a father, and for a short time all the struggle seemed worth it. Even if our relationship wasn’t perfect, it at least had a purpose.
But distance, no matter the reason, was hard to overcome. I was off on the other side of the world, fighting wars I believed in less and less every year, while my family’s lives passed without me. Imissed most of Melody’s early milestones, and even though we were married, Chantal was basically a single parent anyway.
In the end, it didn’t matter why I wasn’t there or what my intentions were. There was no difference between a dead-beat father and one serving overseas. Absent was still absent. My intentions were good, but that didn’t make any difference to my wife and child when I still missed all the same moments.
It was inevitable that resentment would start to grow. No child deserved to grow up with parents that hated each other, so as soon as we noticed our relationship turning sour, we filed for divorce.
That was several years ago. I thought it would be a hard change, but the hardest thing was admitting how easy it was. My service wasn’t affected, Chantal was already used to living as a single parent, and I’d spent so little time with Melody that she barely knew me. The biggest change was taking off my wedding ring, and the indentation it left in my skin, but even that faded overtime.
Chantal was still waiting for me by the door, tapping her painted nails against her arm with impatience as she looked around for me.
Things could be different now. I was retired from the military. I’d moved to the same city where Chantal and Melody lived, and I had a stable job. Chantal and I would never get remarried. That ship had sailed a long time ago, and there was too much history between us to start fresh. But we could forge a life as amicable co-parents, and I could finally be the father that Melody deserved.
Gripping the bouquet in my hands tighter, I stepped out of the crowd.
“I’m here, right on time, as promised.”
Crossing her arms, Chantal shifted her weight, so her hip jutted to one side as she eyed me up and down.
“Damn. I was hoping you’d be late for once, so I’d finally have something to criticize. Why are you always making it so hard to hate you.”
I shivered just thinking of the word ‘late’.
“Our sergeant used to smack us around with his helmet if we were less than ten minutes early to anything. At this point, I don’t think I’m capable of being late. So, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I don’t come empty-handed.”