Day 74

On Day 74 Maddie finally fell asleep. It had taken 46 hours and a trip to Highgrove, but she finally fell asleep. The night of the Apache incident, Maddie had gone home and had every intention of sleeping away the anxiety and fear left behind from those few minutes she thought the news could be right. But once she hit the pillow, her mind woke up; processing the moment over and over and over and over again; making her stomach turn, making her brain go wild. And she was wide awake.

For two days.

On the second day, Charles called her to extend an invitation to Highgrove for the weekend. Deciding that time away was exactly what she needed, Maddie agreed. So, after packing up her things and an easy drive into the country, she was being greeted by Charles and Camilla at the door to the beautiful estate Maddie had fallen in love with some time ago. It was late in the evening but they had waited to have dinner with her. As they ate Maddie decided that at some point in their lives, Charles and Camilla must have been pulled aside and schooled on the fine art of conversation because they kept the conversation flowing and lively, despite Maddie's lackluster alertness. After dinner, Camilla suggested Charles and Maddie have hot tea in the den while she returned a phone call to her daughter. Pleased to spend time with Harry's father, she followed him willingly. Taking her seat on the chair opposite his, she tucked a blanket around her legs and breathed in the fresh, country air.

She could listen to him talk for hours; he was so much like Harry. She wondered if it would be strange if she asked him to read to her. Deciding it would, she just smiled and continued to ask questions about his favorite topic; the grounds around them. And he kept right on talking.

Charles wasn't daft. And he wasn't blind. He could see her drifting long before she knew she was drifting. Her eyelids were heavy; the beats between blinking lasting longer and longer. He could see how hard this had been on her; Harry's deployment, the attack. His heart ached for her; for his son. He had never had daughters, though he now considered Kate one of his own, but his heart ached for Maddie in a way he imagined her father's would have were he there to see her like this.

"Madeline," his voice was syrupy as he leaned forward in his chair. She opened her eyes and nodded her acknowledgement; a bob of her head. "Perhaps it's time for us to retire." He included himself, suspecting she wouldn't be easy to convince.

"Maybe..." Maddie sighed with a sleepy smile. "Maybe you're right." So she rose to her feet and let him hug her tight.

"Good night darling," he was sweet with her; comforting.

"Good night sir," Maddie smiled sweetly and stepped away from him; not thinking twice about the blanket that she had wrapped around herself. Passing Camilla on the way towards the stairs, she said goodnight and continued on.

When Maddie stepped into the room she usually took when they stayed at Highgrove, she was shocked to find the room empty; devoid of her belongings. Though she generally ended up in the same bed with Harry, her things were always in here. Stepping out, she looked up and down the hallway. Was she really that tired? Had she passed her usual room? She glanced back inside; finding the settee that Harry had christened with her on one particular drunken night. No, this was the right room. Flipping on the lights, she crossed the room, opening the bureau. The staff normally unpacked her things, turned on lights, warmed up the room...but none of that had happened. And her things were nowhere to be found.

Stepping back out of the room, Maddie made her way back downstairs, hoping to find an answer.

"Everything okay?" Charles called to her as she stepped off the last of the stairs.

"I..." She shook her head with a chuckle. "I thought that I would be in the same room, but my things aren't in there. I guess I've been moved?"

"Ah yes," he nodded. "I'm sorry. I suppose I should have asked you first. I thought you might be more comfortable in Harry's room this weekend."

"Oh?" Maddie's voice croaked; her eyes filling up.

"I hope that's okay. If it isn't, I can have your things moved right away..." He moved to stand.

"No, no," she held her hand out. "It's okay. It's...it's very okay. Thank you." She bit at her lip, her hand moving to her heart as she smiled at him. "Good night."

"Sleep well dear," he returned her smile; her connection. Without another word, Maddie returned upstairs; to Harry's room.

Pushing the door open, she felt instantly more at ease—because she was surrounded by him. She shut the door behind her and stepped inside. The staff had unpacked her things in Harry's space and it was the sweetest combination of his life and her things and it made her tired eyes swell. Bless Charles for thinking of this, for knowing this might be something she wanted; something she needed.

She moved around his room slowly, shedding her blanket and looking for her pajamas. In her search, she opened a drawer full of crisply pressed and folded shirts. Giggling at the tight, clean lines, she knew this was the work of the staff. No way did Harry put so much care and precision into the ironing and folding of what were essentially t-shirts. Her fingers ran along the edges and she was surprised by the soft fabric. She pulled one of them from the drawer, letting it unfold as she held it up. A smile spread across her face. It was a white "Walking With The Wounded" t-shirt she was certain she had seen pictures of Harry in while throwing out the first pitch when the Mets played the Twins. Tossing her blouse to the side, she removed her bra and pulled this t-shirt over her head; basking in the comfy warmth it provided. It smelled slightly of him; the same detergent, the same softener. She wondered, only briefly, what he might have to say about her going through his drawer, taking his things. And then she shrugged. If he wanted her to give him eight babies, he could handle her taking one of his t-shirts. A wide smile spread across her face as her body pushed out a yawn.

Standing, she let her pants pool around her feet, pulling off her stockings and leaning to open another drawer. Finding a pair of boxers with a tiny red pinstripe and a polo player in the corner, she pulled them on; followed by the pair of polo socks she had taken with her on Day 1—socks she had worn almost every day since. Catching herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but laugh. What a site she was; exhausted and frazzled and dressed in his clothes—all too big for her. He would love to see this, she thought. Reaching for her phone she snapped a picture. Maybe she would show him someday. Titling the photo Day 74, she plugged her phone in, turned off the lights, and crawled into his bed—her body letting go of the tension, relaxing more and more with every move she made.

She snuggled into his bed; letting him surround her. Closing her eyes she let her sleep deprived brain drift to thoughts of him. Her senses followed close behind. She was in his clothes, in his bed; and everything around her had the faint, soft smell that was almost him. Close enough that it made her long for him next to her. If she was quiet enough, she could bring his voice to her mind, almost hearing him. If she closed her eyes tight enough, she could almost feel his hands on her.

God she missed him. She stretched out; flexing her muscles, settling further into his bed. Sighing, she let out more tension; her lips curling up into a smile. The memories came easier to her as she relaxed and let her mind wander. She pulled up his smile, his laughter, the way his eyes twinkled when he was messing with her. She pulled up his kisses, his touch, the way he would drive her mad in the most delicious way possible.

God she missed him. Her hands bunched up his sheets, her entire body sighing as she let him wash completely over her. The tension flooded from her and suddenly, unexpectedly, she felt...calm; peaceful, comforted. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked out into his room; her cheeks warm. She felt at home here; amongst his things—amongst his memory.

And then it was there, in Harry's room, wrapped in his bedding, head stuffed into his pillow—that she finally fell asleep.

Day 93

On Day 93, Maddie stood at the summit of Pen Y Fan in Wales; her hands stretched out to the sun, her arms welcoming the spring air. She had talked to her cousin Kyle two days ago and she had confessed; she felt claustrophobic—cooped up. But there was nowhere for her to go. She was working, she was volunteering and the press was all over her again. So he told her about Pen Y Fan. His college roommate had been from Ireland and was an avid traveler and outdoorsman. Kyle had called him up and he had recommended the hike, and the view, quite highly.

Two days, one trip to the bookstore, and a train ride to Wales later, Maddie had arrived to the trailhead early in the morning. It was foggy and dewy, but the weather had been warmer lately and she had faith that it would pull through to be a decent day. As she pulled on her backpack, her stocking cap and the ridiculous union jack mittens Harry had gone back to purchase for her so many months ago, Maddie began the journey.

She had given some thought, in that moment, that it may have been a good idea to bring along a hiking partner. But Collins was in France, preparing for a new baby, Ella wasn't even close to a fan of hiking, and though Bishop would have come with her, she wouldn't have been able to process correctly with the jokes and the flask that followed him wherever he went.

So she went alone. It wasn't the first time she had gone alone and she hoped that it wouldn't be the last.

About half way in, she met some other hikers. They were friendly and funny and took to her quite easily. With her hair pulled back under her hat, her sunglasses blocking her eyes, and the incredibly dressed down clothing, nobody seemed to recognize her. Maddie chuckled, either that or they are completely normal people who couldn't care less who she was sleeping with. They were Welsh; clearly. Their accent and language quickly tipped her off. But the moment they learned that she only spoke English, they switched over; giving her tips about the hike, information about the area. They walked with her along the path and they even taught her a few choice words that she would hold in her mind for when Harry returned.

They let her sit with them while they all ate lunch. They let her take their picture as a group at a particularly beautiful spot along the way. And, as they neared the summit, when she grew quiet and introspective, they let her wander away from them, literally and metaphorically, without any hurt feelings or issues. That was the thing that most hikers understood—sometimes this journey was a group journey and sometimes it was a solo one; and it was perfectly acceptable to float between the two.

When she reached the top, she walked as close to the edge as she could get, inching closer and closer until she felt the air hit her before it hit the cliff. Pulling her bag from her shoulders, she lowered herself to the ground next to it. And there she sat; looking out over the beautiful landscape—the massive expanse of it all. She took deep, cleansing breaths while her muscles relaxed, while they processed the pounding she had just handed them. She loved this part; the largeness of it all. It made her feel small in comparison; humble.

Her mind wound around itself in thought; thinking of him, of the marble in her pocket, of the thirty-four days left until she saw him again. She thought of what that moment would be like. Would she cry? Would she crumble? Would she fling herself into his arms or be stunned motionless? Her mind settled on him and she worried. What was he doing in this exact moment? Was he safe? Was he headed into danger? Was he counting down the days to his return or was that too much to handle while he was there? Would he be the same man when he returned as he was when he left? Was anyone the same when they returned from war?

She knew the answer to that question. She had worked with too many returning soldiers, with too many survivors of trauma not to know the answer to that question.

Though she had never been particularly religious, she had grown up believing in God—in something higher and grander than anything here on Earth. She looked out over the vast beauty before her and, with open eyes, she said a prayer; a prayer for his safety, a prayer for his return, a prayer for her patience and understanding.

She didn't know how long she sat there. She hadn't brought a watch. This hike wasn't about time; it was barely about the summit. It was about getting out, sweating out the stress; processing her feelings. So, when she finally stood, pulling her pack onto her back and, with one last look—burning it into her brain—she turned and began her descent.

That night she stayed in Wales. She found a cozy inn. She bought pajamas from a local store and, from the recommendations of the group she had hiked with, she ate an amazing dinner. As she drifted to sleep that night, she made a mental note; she was bringing Harry here someday—Harry and their eight little babies. She laughed out loud as she thought of it. If they added some lederhosen and a bit of music, they would look like the Von Trapps. Maybe they would have to only have four.

Day 107

Day 107 was a bit of a blur; a champagne infused blur. And it all began with the Duchess of Cambridge. In Maddie's entire life, she never would have imagined that agreeing to attend a cousin's baby shower with Harry's sister-in-law would turn out to be the intoxicated adventure it ended up as. But Kate had called two days before the event, imploring her to come along with her. William was originally going to attend but had been called away to duty, Pippa was in the US, and Kate did not want to face her cousin's friends all alone. Maddie had initially put up a fight, not wanting to be the awkward third wheel—but when Kate quietly admitted that seeing her cousin pregnant was difficult for her while she and Will and been trying so hard to no avail, she won her over. So, on Day 107 Maddie put on the frilliest dress in her closet, pinned her hat on her head and, when Kate showed up at her door with her detail, she smiled and invited them in. It wasn't the only time they had seen each other during Harry's deployment, but it was certainly the craziest night they had.

"You know, I could have just come down."

"Yes, I know," Kate nodded, watching while her body man finished checking Maddie's place before nodding his okay and stepping out. "But..." Kate stepped inside and shut the door behind her as she reached into her large bag. "We can't very well drink this in the car, now can we?"

"No," Maddie smirked at the bottle of champagne in Kate's hand. "We're going to drink champagne before we go to a baby shower?"

"Yes," the tall brunette walked past her into the living room. "You know, I don't believe I've ever been to your place."

"You haven't," Maddie shook her head; reaching for two glasses before joining Kate where she stood in front of the fireplace.

"It's cute," Kate's smile was genuine as she looked around. "I like it."

"Thank you," Maddie held up the glasses.

"Ah yes," Kate pulled the bottle up; expertly working the cork and popping it open. Pouring the two glasses, she sat the bottle down on the coffee table and took a glass from Maddie.

"Should we toast to your cousin?" Maddie raised her eyebrows.

"Nah," Kate shook her head; nose crinkled. "There will be enough toasting to her today."

"Oh-kay," Maddie chuckled. "What shall we drink to?"

"Being able to drink," Kate smirked, thought Maddie was certain she saw something else behind the joke. "How about we drink to you?"

"Me?" Maddie was shocked.

"Yes, you." Kate laughed. "You agreed to come with me to this abhorrent shower. You're going to be bombarded with her University friends asking about Harry and...and you didn't even question my bringing a bottle of champagne to your house at ten in the morning. You just went for glasses..." Kate looked oddly at the glass in her hand. "Come to think of it, why didn't you question the bottle of champagne I brought to your house at ten in the morning?"

"I don't know," Maddie grinned as she shrugged. "It's just...we're dressed up like...cupcakes..." Kate laughed. "We're going to a baby shower for a woman I don't know with women you apparently do not like and...you're the Duchess of Cambridge...with a bottle of champagne at ten in the morning. Who says no to that?"

"Who indeed," Kate grinned; liking the answer. Holding her glass out to clink against Maddie's she took a small sip and sighed. "Thank you for coming with me to the shower."

"You're welcome," Maddie met her eyes. "I'm happy you thought you could ask."

"Well, we're going to be sisters someday, no?" Kate's eyes sparked with defiance as her face stayed calm; innocent. But Maddie caught it and shook her head with a chuckle.

"Oh no. It may not be too early in the morning for champagne, but it is definitely too early in the morning for that," she drained her glass and sat it on the table. "We should get going."

"We should," Kate nodded; following suit. "And don't worry. They day is long, I have plenty of champagne and we'll be getting back to that soon enough."

"Can't wait," Maddie grumbled, reaching for her bag and following Kate out the door.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kate had been right though; the shower was a lot to handle. She had called ahead days ago and the group was expecting Maddie to be there. They were warm, they were inviting. Samantha, the pregnant cousin, was incredibly sweet and gracious. In fact, everyone had been incredibly gracious at Maddie's presence; making her feel welcome and part of the group instead of out of place and awkward. Of course, there was the other side to the women; the side that knew who Kate and Maddie were. Though some of them had grown more accustomed to seeing Kate at such functions, none of them were used to seeing Maddie. And, being just a girlfriend and not in the limelight, she seemed a bit more allusive; a bit more mysterious. So these women, who were normally high functioning productive members of society, found themselves in this strange space where they giggled nervously, where they asked about some of the things they had read that they might not normally give the time of day; where they asked about Harry and how he was doing—as if they knew him. Maddie tried her best to smile and nod and answer as simply and sweetly as possible. And Kate, bless her soul, would step in as often as she could to help divert the interrogation. And when the hostess offered them both a white wine spritzer—well, it would have been rude to refuse.

As was expected, the attention eventually turned to Samantha; the gracious expectant mother. Maddie knew right away that she was expecting a baby girl as the entire room they were in was drenched in shades of pink. Even Maddie, who had always been a fan of the color, was finding it a bit much to handle. For the most part, all of the women had babies or were having babies or were trying to talk their husbands into having babies. It was baby overload and suddenly, Maddie understood. Kate and William were trying to have a baby and had yet to be successful. This was a little too much baby for Kate to tackle alone. So she brought along Maddie; Maddie who wasn't even married yet, Maddie who