Jill sat forlornly outside the modest two story farmhouse. She watched as the snow fell more rapidly. Her clear blue eyes followed a single flake on its random journey towards the ground. She felt like that snow flake. Her whole life had been at the mercy of life's random winds.
She knew that she was totally pathetic. It had been almost three years since her husband Peter was killed by a road side bomb near Baghdad. But here she was at her former in-laws for the holidays...again. The sad truth was that she had no where else to go. Christmas with them was as close to family as she had ever known.
She had never known the man, who fathered her. The stark reality was that her prostitute mother had no idea, which of the dozens of regulars it was either. She remembered little of the drug-addicted shell of a woman that had once been her mother. Her only memories, if you could call them that, were of a string of foster homes and institutions that had cared for her physical if not emotional needs.
It was not until she had finally landed in the state home for children that was barely three miles down this bumpy rural highway that her young life took on any thing resembling good at all. That was all thanks to Peter and his parents, Shelly and Rick. She would remember it until her dying breathes -- the first time she met him.
It was on the bus to school. Like most of the other children from the 'home,' her clothes were out-of-style hand-me-downs from some Christian family trying to assuage their guilt by passing on what the lord had given them. But those clothes were a clear sign announcing to the other children on the bus that morning that she was the unplanned, unwanted and abandoned child of a whore.
Children were always so cruel and these were no different despite their Christian, small-town upbringing. From the moment that she has stepped on the bus that first morning, she was the center of their vitriolic taunts. But after a life-time in foster care, Jill was almost numb to the abuse. She had sat silently alone on the brown high-backed seat as the bus seemed to hit each pot hole on that country road.
She supposed she was an average enough looking young woman of fifteen...almost sixteen. Her hair was long; mostly because the state provided only enough money for a hair cut once a year. She usually found it easiest to keep it pulled back from her face in a tight ponytail. At a time when most girls her age primped and preened for hours in front of a mirror, Jill was lucky to catch even two or three minutes in front of the one in the large dormitory bathroom that she shared with three dozen other girls. Even then she was likely to spend most of her time helping one of the young children prepare. She definitely was not fat; although she always got three meals a day, there was little junk food that most other teens survived upon. Of course, her portions too were strictly controlled...as was everything about her young life.
She smiled as she remembered the flutter in her stomach that morning when she had heard the deep smooth voice ask, 'Is this seat taken?' Ironically, she had been watching the snow fall then too. She had turned her head to see the most beautiful guy she had ever seen. She knew, of course, that boys were not supposed to be called beautiful, but sometimes that was the only word that fit. Guys like Brad Pitt and Matt Damon simply could not be called handsome; they were beautiful. So too was the young man that stood next to her awaiting her answer. She had not even been able to find her voice that morning; instead she simply shook her head and scooted over even closer to the window.
He had said his name was Peter. From that moment until he graduated that summer, he had taken the seat next to her. He was the running back on the high school football team. He was also the senior class president and an honor student. But above all else he became her best friend and protector. No one dared say cruel things to his friend. Funny thing was that the whole school knew that they were a couple before she did. Jill had just assumed that Peter's kindness was friendship and true Christian charity. Within a week, his mother had spoken to her social worker and gotten permission for her to study at their house some times. For the first time, she could remember Jill fell madly in love...with Shelly's home cooking.
But still, she remained completely clueless about the true feelings that Peter held for her. It was not until the day after Christmas, when Peter borrowed his dad's old pick-up to take her out for a drive, that she had any hint. He had driven her almost an hour away to the mountains. They had chatted about school and studies as he negotiated the sometimes tight curves. When they reached the top of the snow capped peak, he had pulled the truck over at the look-out.
Tears filled Jill's blue eyes as she remembered how nervous he had seemed as he fumbled in the glove box until he brought out a small black box topped with a gold bow. The silver heart necklace inside was the most spectacular present that Jill had ever gotten. It was her turn to be nervous as Peter bent to latch it about her neck. He had been so gentle as he lifted her ponytail out of the way and brushed his fingers across her cheek. It was then that Jill experienced her first real kiss. On her sixteenth birthday.
From that moment on they were a couple. When Peter graduated, Jill and his parents sat on the front row as he delivered the Valedictorian speech. Shelly had even received permission for Jill to spend that weekend with them. Of course, Peter could have gone anywhere to college, but Jill was never sure if it was her or the farm that kept him at the community college in the next town over.
That summer was the best of her life. She spent long summer days working alongside Peter and his parents on the farm. She had learned to milk a cow and can tomatoes. For the first time in her life, she felt secure. But as with all good things, it did not last. She would never forget the day that changed everything, most people would not...September 11th, 2001.
She had arrived at school that morning blissfully ignorant of the events that would change the world forever. But by homeroom word was spreading through the school about things that were unfolding thousands of miles from their small country town. During first period, the principal came on the loud speaker and announced that school was dismissed for the day.
She and the other children had gathered in the living room to watch their lone television as pictures of the unthinkable filled the screen. Jill had in the end drawn one young girl away and out onto the porch swing. The child's small body had shaken with huge sobs as her fears and pain flowed from her young soul. It seemed in that moment that a cruel world became even crueller.
Jill had not seen Peter until that weekend, but that was not that unusual since he was busy with college and helping his dad on the farm. But when he picked her up from the home that Saturday morning, Jill knew something big was happening. She could see it in his eyes. He drove her back to their mountain. It was there that he told her. While she and the farm might have been enough to hold him there before, things had changed. He had a duty. He had joined the marines.
But even then, her Peter had taken care with her. Pulling another small black box from the glove box, he had slipped a small diamond ring on her finger. 'Will you do me the honor of being my wife?' he had almost whispered. As with that first morning on the bus, Jill had only been able to nod.
Things moved fast after that. Within a month, Peter had arranged for Jill to be emancipated and to live with his parents until she completed high school. He was sent to far off California for training. Jill was never sure who cried more at the air port her or Shelly. For Christmas and her birthday, they had all travelled to California to watch Peter once again graduate from basic training this time.
On her eighteenth birthday, Jill and Peter had stood before a justice of the peace. With only his parents present, they had made solemn promises. 'For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. Forsaking all others until death do we part.' After a brief honeymoon at Disney Land, Jill and his parents had caught another plane back home.
Peter had stayed there for further training, but within three months his first assignment came...Afghanistan. It was, of course, the duty that he felt bound to serve from that fateful morning, but still it filled Jill with fear. By the time that she walked across the stage to receive her diploma, the most important person in her world was thousands of miles away in danger and under fire.
The next five years were pretty much more of the same. Jill had taken up Peter's former mantle; enrolling in the local community college and staying on the farm to help out his parents as much as she could. There had been little doubt what she would study. If Peter felt a duty to serve his country, then Jill felt equally bound to serve its children as the very social worker that she had once despised.
As marriages went, theirs was pretty unusual...except for the military that is. They spent more time writing, emailing and speaking on the phone than they spent together. Three tours of duty, two in Afghanistan and then one in Iraq. But they tried to cram a life time of loving into those rare times when they were together. Unfortunately, it made the very thing that they both wanted most, children of their own, hard to accomplish.
Jill shivered, whether from the cold or the memory of that last Christmas. They had fought. Peter had decided to re-up as it was called. He tried in vain over the weeks to convince Jill that his duty was not over, that there was much more work to be accomplished. But all that she could think of was her personal pain of more time apart. When she had seen him off at the air port, she had not even responded with the same warmth to his kisses.
She would never forgive herself for that. Even though over the coming weeks, they had sorted out their differences and forgiven one another, Jill would always regret no making the most of those final brief brushes of his lips upon hers. When his flag draped coffin had arrived home three months later, she had begged and pleaded for one more taste of the only lips she had ever known. But the mortuary and finally his parents had convinced her that it was best not to see the scarred remains left by that roadside bomb. So she had only those last childish moments to remember forever.
Tears were streaming unchecked down her cheeks by then. Fate did it again to her as she saw the curtains pulled back and Shelly's austere face peek out at her. She barely had time to brush her face with the back of her hand before they were running through the snow to scope her from the confines of her battered old car. She collapsed into the arms of the closest things she had ever known to parents. And despite all of her resolve to be strong for them...and Peter, she was sobbing and shaking almost immediately.
