Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [143]
Kristine looked her husband in the eye. He was almost snarling now, and she hated it when he got like this. “It’s the end of a chapter for us. The end of our lives in the military. The kids don’t know anything else. Nor do I. I guess being a civilian again scares me. I try not to think about it, but most times I lose the battle. It’s all going to be so new. The kids are scared, too, even though they’ve been managing to bluff their way through the days these past few weeks. Furthermore, I just don’t understand why we can’t stay and go home together. Why do we need to go first and you follow thirty days later? We should be here with you when you walk out those doors for the last time. I put in my twenty years, too, Logan.”
“Kris, we settled this months ago. Our belongings are en route. Major Tattersol is ready to move in here the moment we move out. You said you could handle this.” Logan swung his legs over the side of the bed and stomped to the bathroom. “You do realize you just ruined what was supposed to be a perfect evening, don’t you?” Logan shot over his shoulder before he slammed the door shut. Kristine cringed when she heard the lock snick into place.
Kristine buried her face in the pillow. Damn, I can’t do anything right. Perfect evening, my foot. What is wrong with saying how I feel? Doesn’t he understand how much I love him, how much I’m going to miss him? Thirty days could be an eternity when one has to cope with three teenagers who have a hate on for everything in the world, including their parents. Shit! She hadn’t even mentioned their finances. Her eyes filled. I’m sick and tired of being a good little soldier. I never wanted to be a soldier. All I ever wanted was to be a good wife and a good mother. She moved then to curl into the fetal position, at the same time noticing the two rolls of extra flesh that moved upward to press against her breasts. She yanked at the sheet as she wiped at her tears with the hem of the pillowcase. The evening was not going the way she had planned. In four short hours she would be herding the children out the door to a waiting car for the ride to the airport. She needed to do something, but had no idea what it was.
Kristine squeezed her eyes shut as she ran the scene over in her mind. The kids would be cranky, mouthy, and hateful because they were leaving their friends, enduring the long plane ride home, and taking up residence in a place they could barely remember. The worst thing of all for the three of them was the prospect of starting over in a new school. She’d spent whole days trying to reassure her children things would be wonderful if they would just open up to the move. Nothing had worked, probably because they sensed her own anxieties and fears, something a good soldier should never reveal.
Kristine jerked upright when the bathroom door opened. She stared at her husband, who was fully dressed. “Where . . . where are you going at this time of night, Logan?” she whispered. She hated the sound of fear in her voice.
“I’m going to take a walk. I need some fresh air. Look, Kris, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just as antsy as you are. Believe it or not, this whole thing is just as traumatic for me as it is for you.”
“I love you,” Kris whispered again.
“I know, Kris, I know. I won’t be long. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”
“Is that what the book says, sleep? How can I sleep, Logan? Something is wrong here. I can sense it. It’s not my imagination.”
“Yes, Kris, it is your imagination. This separation is just a little rocky bump. We’ve had rocky bumps before. Thirty days is just thirty days. I expected more from you, Kris.”
Kristine sighed. She was about to throw off the sheet and swing her legs over the side of the bed until