Part Four: Three Brothers

Jake had two brothers.

Shane was the oldest. He’s thirty-three now. He sells cars at a big dealership in Clarksville. Chevy and GMC. He’s good at it. Salesman of the Month eleven times. He’s got a framed photo of himself shaking hands with the regional manager.

He has a wife, Brittany, and two little girls. Kaylee and Madison. Six and four. A big brick house in a new subdivision off Highway 41. With a two-story foyer and a three-car garage.

A house he couldn’t afford.

I knew that. Everybody knew that. Jake used to shake his head about it.

“Shane’s always one paycheck from the edge,” he’d say. “Always has been.”

Dustin was the youngest.

He’s twenty-four. He works first shift at a tire shop in Clarksville. Big O Tires on Wilma Rudolph Boulevard. Six-thirty to three.

He’s quiet. Like Jake. Tall and lanky, with Jake’s slow smile and a faded green ball cap he’s worn since high school. He lives in a little rented trailer on the edge of town.

He doesn’t say much.

He doesn’t need to.

Jake’s parents are Ron and Debbie Whitfield. They live in a brick ranch in Clarksville. Ron retired from the post office. Debbie works at the library.

Ron had a heart stent put in that spring. In April. A month before Jake died.

He hadn’t been the same since the funeral.

Part Five: The Gratuity

The Army paid me the death gratuity four days after Jake died.

If you’ve never been a military spouse, you might not know what that is.

When a soldier dies on active duty, for any reason, the Department of Defense pays a one-time benefit to the family. A hundred thousand dollars. Tax-free. To help with immediate expenses.

It goes to whoever the soldier designated. Usually the spouse.

Jake designated me.

His wife. On the form. In his handwriting. Signed and dated three years earlier, when he re-enlisted.

Beneficiary: April Whitfield. Relationship: Spouse. 100%.

The money was in my bank account on May 16th.

I didn’t touch it.

I couldn’t.

I didn’t touch anything that month.

I didn’t go back to work. I didn’t answer my phone. I didn’t open the mail. I slept in Jake’s T-shirts. I didn’t wash them.

The hay grew. Nobody cut it.