The Second Half (30 page)

“Mellie, honey, but that is not your daddy.”

“I know, but it…could be.”

Oh, Lord, how do we handle this? Please help us.
Ken knelt beside Mona's recliner and hugged them both, including Jake, as, with Legos going in every direction, Jake threw himself at them.

S
o here was Ken in a suit and tie again. Mona smiled inwardly as she watched him drive. Once his retirement took hold, so to speak, he had pretty much gone to casual unless he was ushering at church, which was only once a month. But today he was a speaker at Mellie's school Career Day, telling an auditorium full of children what it was like to be a professor. He was asked to dress in his everyday work clothes, which included his attaché case. And Mellie was to introduce him.

Ken looked grim. “This morning Mellie asked me if I was nervous about being in front of all those people. I said no, I speak to groups all the time. How about her? And she said she didn't care. Everyone else was introducing their fathers and her father was dead.”

“At least she admits out in the open what she's been thinking all along. What a sad way to cure stage fright. Did Jake say anything?”

“No, but he didn't contradict her, either.”

They pulled into the parking lot of Mellie's school.

“Crowded already,” Ken commented. “Are parents invited, too?”

“Yes. Two children from each class were chosen to represent their class. In the fourth grade, Mellie is one, and Little John Marsh is the other. He will introduce his father, a fireman, and Big John says he's going to be wearing his full bunkers. Then he's going to turn it into a teaching session, especially for the little kids.”

“Teaching session?”

“He says he's going to put on his survival mask and oxygen tank. He'll explain that is what he wears when he enters a burning building. Then he'll stress how important it is for a child to not be afraid of that scary costume and run to the fireman, not hide.”

Ken smiled. “Is he going to blow his whistle?”

“I think so. Children are supposed to run toward that sound, not away from it.”

“Wait till they find out how ear piercing that whistle is.” Ken shook his head. “Quite a showstopper. Being a professor is going to look pretty lame compared to a fireman.”

Mona laughed. “Maybe you could put on that welder's mask you use for face protection when you are turning something on your lathe. Explain that professors aren't in a white shirt all the time; they have a life.”

He pulled into a parking slot and turned off the motor. “I have. A wonderful life, full of blessings.” He twisted in the seat to look at her. “And you are the greatest blessing by far. You serve Jesus, you raised fine kids, and you made an ordinary house into a warm, loving home. You made my life, Mona. Thank you.” He drew her into a long, leisurely kiss.

When he sat back, Mona clung for a moment. “And I have you to thank for so many blessings. For staying with me when the depression makes me such a sour apple to live with. Not every victim of depression has that kind of support. And for being such a fine Christian father to our kids and a great provider.” She dug into her purse. “Now I have to fix my lipstick.” She grinned at him. “And that's wonderful.”

Together they strolled inside. Ruth Holmstead, the principal, stood outside the big double doors to the multipurpose room, greeting people as they entered. Mona noted that she knew most of them by name.

“Mr. and Mrs. Sorenson. Welcome!” She smiled at Ken. “You look quite natty, professor.”

“Thank you. I hope to impress children who like to dress up and wear a tie.”

She laughed, but then she sobered. “Mellie does not seem to be especially excited about this; I thought she would be. In fact, that's one reason we chose her. And in September, when we were putting this program together—we do it every year, you know—she was certain her father would be back in time.”

Mona nodded. “She has convinced herself her father is dead, not MIA.”

“I'll make sure Lori knows about that. Thank you. As her teacher, Lori is concerned, too.” She waved an arm. “Presenters are asked to sit on the aisle. You will follow a mechanic named Hugh Larsen. He's—”

“My mechanic.” Ken grinned. “It will be an honor. The world can do without professors, but we can't get along without mechanics. I might even add that to my little speech.”

They settled into aisle seats. Mona looked around the gymnasium that had a good-sized stage with heavy curtains and a long bank of lights overhead. The deep blue curtains were drawn with a lone microphone in front. And yes, under Mona's feet was the room-sized tarp they put down to protect the floor. Under that tarp, she knew, basketball keys were painted, and a volleyball court was outlined. When Steig and Marit were growing up, the school had a dedicated theater-like auditorium that was way too small. This huge room seemed to hold everyone comfortably.

“Good grief, the parking lot is full. I had to park out on the street.” Marit slipped in beside them and put down her purse. “I am so excited for Mellie. Just think, maybe this will open doors to her mind about teaching or speaking or all kinds of things.”

“I take it you've not heard that she wants to be a horse trainer like Miss Dixie? We could soon be sitting in bleachers watching horse shows.”

Marit frowned at Mona, then shrugged. “Lots of time yet.”

Since the front rows were reserved for lower-grade students, the back rows quickly filled with families and left the bleachers for the upper grades. As the students filed in, the noise level rose exponentially.

The magic hush happened when Mrs. Holmstead walked out to the microphone. She waited for complete silence before welcoming everyone. “Let us stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.” She turned to the American flag off to the right of the stage. She placed her hand over her heart as did everyone else and began, “I pledge allegiance…”

By the end, Mona had the burning eyes and nose again. Both the pledge and the national anthem did that to her every time. When they all took their seats, she dug in her purse for a tissue. Ken patted her knee and turned his head enough to smile at her.

“Again, I thank all of you families for coming today. I know some of the parents had to take off work; we appreciate your support and dedication. I want to introduce sixth grader Brandylin Willkinson, who will be our MC for today.” She turned to the left. “Brandilyn.”

A tall girl strode out on the stage and took her place behind the microphone that did not even need to be lowered for her. “Thank you all for coming and welcome to this Career Day, where our relatives will be sharing what they do for a living and how that makes a difference in our town. I made a list of all the participants because I did not want to forget anyone.” A chuckle rippled over the audience.

“But before we begin, I want to introduce our AV specialist, sixth grader Andrew Paine. He'll make sure everyone can speak into the mic.” A redheaded boy, shorter than she, made his way out, tapped the mic, made certain those in the back could hear, and left the stage.

Mona leaned close to Ken. “She sure is doing a good job.” He nodded.

They listened to a woman talk about being a doctor and a man tell about his life as a nurse. Another man owned a gas station, and he said he helped the town by keeping their cars on the road and fueled. The audience laughed at that one. A business owner spoke, as did a man and woman who owned and operated a restaurant that often ran specials donated to local sport teams. So many people, each making a small difference that added up to a huge difference.

When Hugh Larsen stepped out onstage, Ken left Mona's side. Some of the younger children were getting squirmy and restless.

Marit leaned close to Mona. “I like the way the teachers make sure they behave. This can be pretty boring for little ones.”

“Just wait until the fireman blows his whistle.”

With his daughter standing beside him, Hugh completed his presentation by waving a monkey wrench.

Brandylin announced, “Our next student is new to our school this year, fourth grader Mellie Sorenson.” Mona and Marit clapped hard. Andrew lowered the mic so that Mellie could speak easily and grinned at her before he left the stage. Mona got out and aimed her iPad, watching its screen so she could film their segment.

Mellie stepped up to the mic and did not seem at all nervous. She licked her lips, but she often did that. “My father, Captain Steig Sorenson, is in the Army Special Forces. He has been deployed to Pakistan.” She looked as if she might say something else, but then she said simply, “He's not here. So instead, today I am introducing my grandfather, Dr. Ken Sorenson, who just retired from being dean of students at Stone University. He will tell you what it is like to be a university professor and why it matters.” She turned to smile at her grandfather and moved aside, giving him the mic.

Ken stepped up to the podium casually and set his attaché case down beside him. Andrew rushed out and began cranking and twisting to get the mic up high enough.

Marit wagged her head. “Right down to the briefcase.”

“Show-and-tell. He wants to tell about the research aspect. He'll show everyone a tomahawk because most archaeologists are professors, and a resin cast of a baby dinosaur skull because most paleontologists are professors.”

“Ah. My father the showman.”

Mona heard the big doors behind her swoosh open. Latecomers, no doubt.

Ken turned his head from side to side, nodding, to address the whole room. “Thank you, Mellie, and thank you, Brandylin. To most people, being a profess—” He stopped cold. His mouth dropped open and he stared.

Mellie screamed and kept screaming.

Mona swiveled to see who had just entered.

Captain Steig Sorenson.

Steig. Steig! Steig! He…Steig! Oh God, thank You! Steig!

ThankYouGodthankYouthankYouSteigGodthankYou.
Mona's brain spun so hard she felt faint.

In his camo fatigues, he jogged down the aisle toward the stage.

Mona's legs lifted her out of her seat without being told to. Her feet propelled her toward the stage.

Ken and Mellie had both leaped down off the stage, and now Steig was wrapping his arms around them both. Jakey bolted across the room to slam into Steig, and now Mona was there, hugging, laughing, crying. She could feel her son's strong arm pull her to him. Then he let go of her to pick up Jakey, who wrapped himself around his father's neck.
Steig! Oh GodthankYouthankYouthankYou.

Mrs. Holmstead moved back to the mic. “I am sure this will go down in our school's history as the most incredible day ever. We had no idea this was coming. It is a surprise to all of us, and it could not be a more welcome surprise. All I know is that Captain Sorenson was deployed last summer and later listed as missing in action.”

Mona stepped back a little so that Marit could squeeze closer.

Mrs. Holmstead mopped her eyes and blew her nose. She continued. “Friends, let us thank Captain Sorenson for his service to our country.” She clapped.

The audience applauded. Some of the fathers stood up, and then all were on their feet, clapping wildly, a standing ovation.

Mona's heart and brain were both still in a tailspin. Many questions, but they would come later. Who cares? Questions and answers were no longer important to her.

Steig was home at last.

Steig was home.

M
ona brought out the tray of coffee, hot chocolate, and sweet rolls and set it on the table in front of the sofa. She settled into her favorite chair beside Ken in his. Steig sat in the middle of the sofa with children plastered tightly against him, one on each side.

Steig leaned forward and retrieved a mug of coffee. “Thanks, Mom. So as soon as my plane touched down, I tried to call you and tell you I was on my way, but I couldn't reach anyone.”

“Our phones were turned off so they wouldn't ring during the presentations,” Ken said.

“The door was locked, and you left that note for Marit: ‘Gone to school Career Day. Your green beans are in the shed.'”

Mona smiled. “I didn't know she was going to get off work and come to the presentation until she walked in.”

“My driver was putting my duffel on the porch. I told him, ‘Get back in!' and he drove me right there.”

“Wow!” Mellie's eyes widened. “You have your own driver?”

“One of the perks of being a captain, sweet.”

Ken wagged his head. “No communication from you at all. We didn't know what to think, and then we were told MIA.”

Steig lost his happy smile. “I'm sorry. I really am. I promised to Skype, and it never happened. The mission was top secret. The first thing the bad guys do is try to wangle information out of the family. We didn't want anyone to know who I was or where I went or what I was doing or who my family was for your protection. My immediate supervising officer—my handler if you will—was the only one who knew about the operation. As far as Major Paget knew, I really was MIA. And incidentally, the mission is still secret. I was in a zone where American military is never supposed to be. So I can't discuss it, but it was nowhere near Pakistan. That's just where I shipped out from.”

“Real cloak-and-dagger. Sounds like something you only see in the movies.” Ken smiled. “We're proud of you. But I probably don't have to tell you that.”

“Thank you.” Steig gave Mellie a squeeze. “So how is school?”

“Great. My teacher says my reading is awesome.”

“You tested eighth grade a year ago.”

Mellie nodded. “Now I'm adult level.” She shrugged. “Mostly.”

“Wow. That's great.” Steig groped around in a side pant leg pocket and hauled out a folded-up piece of paper. “So you can read this, right?”

She unfolded it and smoothed it out on her lap. She studied it a moment, frowning as only a serious ten-year-old can frown. “These are…are these discharge papers? It says honorable discharge.”

Mellie passed the paper to Ken. “I have to say, our mission was completely successful, but I nearly died accomplishing it. Dumb luck that I didn't.” He smiled at Mona. “Or the power of prayer. It was a wake-up call, so to speak. Do I want to keep going in the army, or do I want to be a father and raise the kids? The kids don't have a mother, and maybe next time I wouldn't be so lucky. I talked to my base financial officer, and he worked out an early retirement where I still get full benefits.”

“Do you regret your choice?” Ken handed the papers back to him.

“No. Well, sort of. I loved my work, and I'm going to really miss it. Cloak-and-dagger is exhilarating. Addictive even. It's an adrenaline rush like no other. But the kids are more important, so I grabbed my chance. I'll go to Washington, where I'm going to be decorated for my service, me and three other guys. Then it's over.”

“What's decorated?” Jake asked.

“Where you get a medal and an award.”

“Which medal?” Ken asked.

“Medal of Honor.” Steig said it so offhandedly.

Mona clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from crying out loud. The highest award the armed forces can give. Her son.

Thank You, God!
Her heart and soul were still ringing with
Thank You!

Most of all, best of all…

Steig was home for good.