Making three identical meals for my triplets while they teared through the house trying to get ready for school just added to the madness and the chaos in the house. Out of the blue, they started fighting over a marker and I was doing my best not to be late yet again when both of my phone went off. But before I could reach either of them, I noticed a bright red “Breaking News” banner on TV.
And that’s when I heard the news of my ex-husband’s passing. The news anchor said former officer Garrett Cole had reportedly died in a classified combat zone. Although his military career had been accompanied by scandals and controversy, Pentagon still painted him as a hero who gave his life for the country trying to protect fellow soldiers.
I had a hard time processing the news. Garrett and I ended things on a sour note, but he was still the father to my children.
Next thing I knew is that received a text from my former mother-in-law, Beatrice. She made sure I was aware I was no longer their son’s widow. She wrote that if I planned to attend Garrett’s funeral, I needed to stay in the background. And yes, she reminded me not to bring my charity-case children close to their family.
The funeral was at Arlington on Friday.
I re-read that message more than ten times, because who wouldn’t. No one in their right mind would send a text like that, but Beatrice was another story.
Seven years ago, when my triplets were born, Garrett not only disappeared from our life completely, but he also got involved with another woman, Scarlett, a young paralegal who was desperate for the Cole name, the Cole money, and everything that came with it.
The worst of all? His parents supported his decision to walk out on me and the kids. Beatrice and Arthur made sure I was left with nothing. They drained me financially and said I was too busy working on my military career that I wasn’t even a proper wife. And now that their son was dead, they tried to turn a deadbeat into a saint. But why didn’t that surprise me?
While the news were still on, my son Logan pointed to the TV and asked if that was his dad who got killed. I just said yes, but I didn’t cry. And no matter how cruel it may sound, I didn’t feel sad either.
Then I got out my secure government phone and read the military message. Most of it was just formal stuff and regular condolences, but knowing how headquarters operated, I could be pretty sure there was a very highly classified document waiting for me in a secure folder somewhere. My instincts were telling me that this funeral would not go quite as planned by the Coles.
That Friday, I made sure my kids attended the funeral their grandparents turned into a media circus. Garrett’s casket was draped in the American flag, and Scarlett was front and center in an expensive black coat, sobbing loudly for the cameras while keeping one hand carefully placed on her pregnant belly. Beatrice was stroking Scarlett’s hair like a doting mother, while Arthur stood close by, giving interviews to reporters about his son’s incredible courage and sacrifice.
Looking at their performance, I was sure they used Arlington to wash the stains off Garrett’s name.
At one moment, Beatrice caught sight of me and the kids, and despite the rain, I could see the anger on her face.
She bent closer to Scarlett and spoke in such volume that everyone around could hear her, “Look at her; still trying to steal his legacy, sweetie, but don’t worry, they all know that it’s really you who’s the widow.” She then turned to me yet again and gave me a fake smile. But I didn’t care because it didn’t matter. I was only there so that my kids deserved to attend their father’s funeral, although he was practically just a stranger to them.
Next thing, a government black sedan rolled up and parked next to the pavilion, and out came General Raymond Bradley. There were four stars pinned proudly on his shoulder; a stone cold face; and a folded ceremonial flag clutched tightly under his arm. He was no mourning general. His stern demeanor made him seem like an executioner. Immediately, all military officers present stood straight and waited for him. Beatrice was delighted, as she jostled Scarlett to stand up, who then did so, and with tears running down from her eyes, stretched out both arms to receive the flag.
However, General Bradley did not stop; he just went past her . People literally held their breaths as they saw Scarlett standing there empty-handed. Beatrice shouted, “General!” Yet, he totally turned deaf ears to her pleas, going straight to his position, down the aisle through the press and other people until he reached where I was standing.
Looking first at my children, he brought up his eyes to meet mine as he slowly lifted his palm into a perfect salute. “Captain Mercer,” he greeted. Without offering me the flag, he lowered his hand and spoke with a booming voice throughout the cemetery. “I am not here to offer a hero’s flag to a grieving widow,” he declared. “I have come here for a classified briefing.”
General Bradley turned around just enough for all the cameras to capture his words. “Garrett Cole was no hero when he died and he was not protecting his unit. Garrett died in a hostile compound where an illicit arrangement had fallen apart,” he said.
I couldn’t breathe for a moment. But then General Bradley continued on and elaborated that Garrett was attempting to sell military intelligence from a classified mission; the live coordinates of our actual mission location.
It was like the earth moved beneath me. Garrett had betrayed my unit and sold us out for whatever money he could make. He was ready to leave his children without a mother.
Beatrice started screaming that her son was a true hero and that what General Bradley said was a lie. The General just looked at her with complete ice in his eyes and informed her that the US military doesn’t offer protection for traitors or their accomplices.
Then, he took a big pile of waterproof papers right out of his pocket. He explained that they knew there was proof showing that the foreign funds paid for this treachery were laundered using domestic shell companies run by his parents and mistress.
It happened all at once. The black cars started driving in from the access roads, and federal agents and military policemen started coming out onto the grass. While Arthur protested and Beatrice cried and screamed and called my name accusing me of destroying them, Scarlett just stared in fear. And I pulled the children into me so that they couldn’t see the nasty scene unfolding. By the casket, the Honor Guard members walked forward and stripped the flag off of the coffin.
General Bradley came slightly closer to me and told me confidentially that the opposing party had tried hacking into the tracking devices of my unit thrice during the last week. The attacks failed, he said, due to my secondary firewall that was built by me personally. He pointed to the folder that I held in my hand and told me that I had saved my team, and that I was the real hero. He then urged me to take my family home. I walked off from the bare coffin in front of me and from not turning around once.
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Bored Daddy
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