Veil of Silence (9 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

She thought the flight from Kabul to Qatar would be the worst…It wasn’t.  Her nerves were already shot.  Waking the children and transferring them to another flight, this one from Qatar to Germany, upset the two children further.  It took a while to calm them down again as they waited for their flight.  Juice, a cookie, and some cuddling seemed to help.  At least this time the announcements were in French and Marsha could understand them.  She looked around, trying to see if anyone else looked familiar to her.  In this part of the world, her burqa and chador were not out of place.  She wondered at her reception in Germany.  She wished there had been a direct flight from Kabul to Germany.  Had she been on a military plane, there would have been.  The G8 or
The Group of Eight refers to the group of eight highly industrialized nations—France, Germany, Italy, the United Kingdom, Japan, the United States, Canada, and Russia—that hold meetings and form consensus on global issues.  Since the turmoil in the Middle East, this group forbade such direct flights from some of these war-torn countries.  It was hoped that by redirecting them through less vitriolic countries, the more fanatical elements would be weeded out before they could get to Europe,much less elsewhere in the world
.
 

The most alarming part for all of them, especially her two escorts, was that the familiar-looking man followed them from one plane to the next and got on their same flight.  It was making everyone edgy, but there was nothing they could do.  He might have legitimate business in Europe and as there wasn’t a direct flight from Kabul to Germany, this was the way to go. 

Marsha watched her two children sleep again, grateful that she’d been given the medicine to make them sleep; however, she worried that she might have over-medicated them.  She watched them breathe from time to time to make sure they were, in fact, still alive.  Her mind was racing on several fronts.  One moment, she worried that the man on board was someone that Zabi had sent and he would grab her and take her back.  The next moment, she worried that she had somehow harmed her own children and this escape was for nothing.  Then, to top it off, she would worry about Heather and Hayley and wonder if they thought she was dead.  It left her fatigued as she simply couldn’t sleep soundly enough.  She was constantly woken whenever someone walked by.  Johann looked across the aisle.  He was the closest to her on this flight and he wondered what she was thinking.  She was quite restless even when she did manage to get some sleep.

* * * * *

“Ms. Gagliano?” the formal sounding name alarmed Heather.  She had, of course, taken Marsha’s name.  She’d been proud to do so.  Few called her by it though.  To most, she was simply ‘Heather.’

“Yes?” she asked cautiously, seeing their uniforms.  Her heart was beating hard.  She glanced at the time.  Hayley would be home from kindergarten soon on the bus and she had to meet her.  Were they here to tell her something about Marsha?  Was her body finally found?  No one knew what had happened to her helicopter or the people on board.  It had simply disappeared into that vast wasteland that was Afghanistan.  She swallowed nervously.

“You are the wife of Captain Gagliano?” the second man asked her, to verify her identity further.

“Lieutenant,” she corrected automatically.

“We have here,” he said musingly, confused, “that this is the residence of Captain Gagliano’s wife.  Captain Marsha Gagliano?”  He looked up from his paperwork with a question on his young, officious face.

“I’m the wife of Marsha Gagliano.  She was a lieutenant in the army,” Heather answered proudly.  Her heart was beating so loud in her ears she was beginning to feel faint.

“Oh, that’s where the mistake is. The lieutenant was promoted to captain,” he corrected her gently.

‘Oh, wouldn’t Marsha have been proud to know that,’
Heather thought to herself.  Why hadn’t she been informed?  That explained the increase in the money she had been receiving from the army.  Raising a child on her own, she’d desperately needed what little she got.  She hadn’t dared to question it in case they took it back.  “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” she asked, afraid to find out what they did want. 

“May we come in?” the first one inquired politely.

Thinking about how messy the living room was from Hayley’s rather boisterous play, she refused.  “What can I do for you,
gentlemen?
” she repeated rather testily.  More out of nervousness that they would see her dirty house than from anything else, or so she told herself.

“We are here to inform you that Captain Marsha Gagliano…” he began formally.  Time seemed to slow down and Heather waited for the phrase,
“has been found dead,”
to come out of his mouth.  Instead, when he continued, he said, “has been found alive.”

Heather didn’t hear him.  The pulse pounding in her ears kept her from hearing him.  She blinked.  They waited.  She blinked again and then swallowed, waiting for him to tell her.

“Ma’am?” he inquired, seeing her turn pale.  He wondered if she had remarried or something.  After all, Captain Gagliano had been gone five years.  This might be a real mess.

“What?  What did you say?” she asked, tremulously.

“Captain Gagliano has been found alive,” he repeated.

“Is she okay?” Heather gasped, her hand going to her chest.

“She’s being interrogated,” he informed her, looking at her curiously and wondering at their relationship.  It was hard being married to someone in the service.  He wondered if it was different for same-sex couples?

Heather didn’t know what to think.  She held onto the door to keep herself upright.

Long after the two officers left, she stood looking out the front window, wondering….  It had been five years.  She had finally resigned herself that Marsha was dead.  She’d even gone on a couple of dates this last year.  They hadn’t been pleasant, but her family told her she needed to ‘move on.’  She hadn’t wanted to move on.  She’d wrapped herself in her grief over knowing Marsha was gone, probably dead, for so long that she couldn’t resolve it at the moment.  She’d raised their daughter all by herself, barely able to keep afloat with the bills and the little money she got from the government.  Hayley wasn’t even going to know Marsha.  She had seen pictures of her mother, of course.  Heather had even caught her talking to the photo that they kept by her bed, but it was more like a pretend or imaginary person to the child.

Where had Marsha been all this time?  They hadn’t said what condition she was in.  They had flown her back through Europe, stopping over in Germany before flying her home.  Home….  She looked around at the small house they had lived in for so long.  She had never moved.  She’d been ‘allowed’ to stay, but there had been noises about a non-military person living in housing that was offered to service personnel and their families at a reduced rate.  Heather knew she couldn’t afford more, not now.  Hayley had just started kindergarten.  She had hoped by the time their daughter was in first grade and going to school full-time, that she could start work, but after all this time of not working she wasn’t sure anyone would hire her. 

“Mommy,” a voice called plaintively and she looked up, startled.  A cute, black-haired girl with a pixie cut was walking up the sidewalk to the house and had seen her through the picture window.  She waved and the exuberance was a delight to see as she waved back.  Heather met her at the door.

“Hi there,” she said, delighted to see the little girl.  “How was school today?”

The little girl began to talk about it so excitedly she frequently forgot words.  She was bouncing on her toes as she told about her day.  It was all so important to relate.  Heather helped her off with her jacket, took her little backpack, and together they went over the art projects that were pulled out of it.

Heather let the little girl wind down before she approached the delicate subject.  She could have waited, but it had to seem real, at least to her.  They didn’t have much time.  Tomorrow Hayley wouldn’t be going to school because they would be meeting Marsha at the airport.  The army had offered her transportation.

“Honey…sweetie,” she said to her as they put her things away for another day of school, which normally would be the next day.  “I have something to tell you,” she told her as she pulled her onto her lap.

“What, Mommy?” the little girl asked, practically.  She began to play with the long tendrils of dishwater blonde curls that were over Heather’s shoulder.

“Two men came to the house today,” she began.

“Were they selling something?”  She’d seen her mother chase off those who would sell door to door in this area, knowing that someone was probably home since it was mostly military wives.

“No, honey, they weren’t.  They came to tell me something.”

“What’d they tell you?” she glanced up, her eyes looking exactly like Marsha’s.  The feeling of love clutched so hard at Heather’s throat, she nearly choked.  It was hard to go on.

“They told me that your other mommy is coming home,” she tried to make it sound exciting.  She knew she was excited to see Marsha, but would this child, who couldn’t really remember meeting her birth mother, be as excited?

“Mommy in the picture?” she asked and she did sound excited.  None of her other ‘pretend’ friends had ever come to life or for a visit.

Heather nodded, thinking about how much she could tell this little girl.  “Tomorrow, we get to meet her at the airport.”  She wondered how long Marsha had been wherever she was coming from?  How long the military had kept her existence from her family?

“Do we have to go on an airplane too?” she sounded intrigued and even more excited at the idea.

“No, baby.  We are going to meet her at the airport.  Those two men said that someone would come and drive us.”

“We can’t take the old wreck?” she asked, innocently.

Heather winced.  The child had heard her refer to their dilapidated old Corolla as ‘the old wreck’ one too many times.  This had become its full name.  On a limited budget, she was only able to keep it running…barely.  She had refused help from her own parents as well as Marsha’s.  Her mother and step-father out of pride, and Marsha’s parents because she knew it meant strings were attached and she would have no choice but to let them see Hayley more often.  As it was, the few times a year she allowed visits left the child confused about who her ‘real’ mother was.  Most days she understood she had two mommies, but after a visit with Marsha’s parents she frequently wondered who her ‘real’ mother was.  Heather knew it was because of the things that Marsha’s parents told the child, their version of what the child ‘should’ know.  She didn’t understand yet and Heather didn’t feel she should know at six and a half what birth mother meant.

“No, baby doll.  We are going to let them drive us.  Won’t that be fun?”

The little girl didn’t know if it would be fun or not and nodded because her mother said it would be fun and she wanted to agree.  “Can I have a cookie and go play?” she asked next, moving on to more important topics.

Heather wondered if the little girl understood the importance of the next day as she made her a snack and then let her go play.  She supposed she was just too young.  Later she caught Hayley talking to the picture of Marsha.

“I get to meet you tomorrow!” she said it importantly, as though the picture didn’t know.  “Mommy said we can go meet you at the airport!”  Heather watched as the little girl looked at the framed photo of Marsha in a uniform and then the one of both Marsha and Heather with their arms around each other, smiling into the camera.  Happier times.  “I hope you like me,” the little girl stated, surprising Heather.

Heather had told her stories for years about Marsha.  How they had met, how they had loved each other so much that they had married as soon as they could.  She tried to explain delicately that it took a man and a woman to make a baby and that Marsha had carried her, but that she was “their baby” to both mommies.

“Why did she leave us?” the little girl had asked more than once when she got older.

“She didn’t want to leave us, baby.  She was protecting us.  She was a soldier in the army and she was coming home to us when the helicopter she was on disappeared,” she tried to explain.  She knew by repetition the little girl knew this, but understanding it was a completely different thing.  “She loved us both so much and she’d be here if she could.”

“Do you think my other mommy likes mac and cheese?” she asked as they ate dinner together that evening.  Heather had gotten fancy and sliced hot dogs into the mix.

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” Heather assured her, wondering what this little minx was thinking.  She wondered if Marsha would be as surprised at her daughter as the daughter would be at her mother. 

As Heather lay in their bed, the other side cold for so many years now, she worried about what they hadn’t told her.  Where had Marsha been?  Five years was a long time.  She had never known Hayley as a little girl, only a baby.  She’d left when Hayley was four months old and had only seen her on Skype during those eighteen months she’d been abroad.  She was a little personality now, ready to take on the first grade next year after their summer break.  She would be finishing up her kindergarten year next month.  Heather had a hard time sleeping as she worried over how much she didn’t know.