Code Name: Ghost - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,3

daughter take her life’s nourishment from me.

After that, it’s a quick shower for me while I watch Avery in her tiny portable bassinet through the shower door. A quick dry of my hair, a slapping on of some makeup, and I’m out the door in an hour and a half from start to finish to drop her off at my mother’s house before heading in to work.

I can’t help but wonder how different our morning routine would be if circumstances were just a bit different.

For example, how much easier would it be if I’d just give into my mother’s harassing and move into her house so she can “take care” of us both? She’s having the hardest time understanding how important my independence is to me.

Or rather, how much easier it would be to care for Avery if I had Jimmy here with me? My husband was killed on a mission gone bad in Syria almost six months ago. Jimmy was the type who would have been very hands-on with Avery. He would have insisted on being the one to change her diaper and get her dressed in the morning since I would be the one to feed her. He’d be involved in that, too, though. He’d sit beside me on the couch, pull me into his strong arms, and would stare down at her the same way I do with that dreamy expression because she’s our little miracle.

At least, I think that’s what he’d do.

The passage of time has a way of fucking with people’s minds, just as becoming a widow while pregnant with a first child can do the same. Truth be told, Jimmy and I had only known each other about two years before he’d died. We’d met while we were both in the Army, stationed down in Ft. Bragg, North Carolina. It had been a whirlwind romance, an accidental pregnancy, and a quick marriage. Some might say I could never have predicted who Jimmy would have been as a father when I hardly knew him as a man and a husband, but they’d be wrong.

Jimmy was the type who would have doted on Avery and me for all the days of our lives. Just because he was taken from us before he could prove that doesn’t mean I don’t know the truth of it.

Regardless, the one thing I’m determined to do is be the strong, independent woman Jimmy so admired. The type of woman he said had attracted him from the very start. While he would never have an issue with me leaning on my mother—and I most certainly did for a while after he died—he’d also expect me to be a role model for Avery and teach her that we can overcome any hardship in this life. That’s what I’m trying to do by putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward.

Every day, I tell myself, You got this, Anna.

This morning, however, as I’m putting Avery’s carrier in the backseat and buckling her in, I have my moment. That one time each day I succumb to grief, pity, and tears. I haven’t figured out how to make these go away yet, and they often don’t last long.

Sometimes, it’s a mere dull ache in the center of my chest and a slight sting of tears as I think about Jimmy.

Other days, like this morning, I can’t hold back. As Avery coos to herself, holding a plastic rattle in her tiny fist, the tears start falling down my face in warm rivers. It’s actually painful trying to hold back the wracking sob that wants to tear free. Sagging against the doorjamb, I take in a ragged breath and curse the heavens for taking my husband from me and leaving Avery without a father. I succumb to that moment of feeling sorry for myself, because fuck if this isn’t hard as hell living life as a young widow and a single mother. I don’t deserve this.

Then my gaze falls to Avery, and she just stares so thoughtfully. Her eyes bore into mine, and I think she knows her mother is having a moment. I rub the wetness from my face with the back of my hand, suck in air through my nose, and level a smile at my little girl. She responds, the tiny pucker of her mouth curving into a gummy grin. She shakes the plastic toy and emits a tiny screech, which I think will become an amazing giggle one day.

And just like