by Amy Gamet
Melanie nodded. "You were screaming and I could barely get you out the door."
"You pulled me all the way to the bakery."
"I was scared you were going to bleed to death on the way there, I kept looking for a policeman or a nurse or something, like they’d just be walking around town with bandages." She laughed.
Lisa frowned. "There was a lot of blood today. I was worried about Greg."
"What happened?"
"I don’t know. I think he might have been somewhere else for a second, but then he seemed to snap out of it."
"That’s good."
They were interrupted by the sound of the doctor pulling tape from a roll. "You’re all set, Miss Addario. Nine stitches this time, only half your previous record. The nurse will be by to update your Tetanus shot, and I’ll warn you to stay away from sharp pipes sticking out of walls."
Lisa turned and met her eyes. "Thank you, doctor."
The doctor stepped out, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Lisa turned back to Melanie. "Thanks for staying with me."
"Thanks for offering to come with me. Next time, I’ll call you."
Lisa opened her arms. "I love you, Mel."
"I love you, too."
The curtain opened again and Greg stepped in, carrying three cups of coffee in a tray. "All stitched up?"
Lisa turned to show him her shoulder. "As good as new. Just waiting on a Tetanus shot."
"Nice." He took a coffee out and handed it to Lisa, then passed one to Melanie.
She held up her hand. "No, thanks."
"It’s an Americano," he sing-songed. "Your favorite."
"I can’t."
"Show him the pinto bean," said Lisa.
Melanie met Greg’s eyes. "I’m pregnant."
His face dropped. "Oh."
Lisa furrowed her brow, looking from one to the other. She turned to Greg. "This is the part where you say congratulations."
"Congratulations," he said.
Lisa looked at Melanie. "Now you say, ‘Thank you, we’re very happy.’"
"We’re very happy."
Greg put his coffee down and fished for his keys. "I think I’ll bring the car around."
"Greg…" said Lisa.
"I’ll be right out front." He turned and walked away.
* * *
It was nearly eleven by the time Greg dropped Lisa at the house.
The car ride had been tense and quiet, leaving Lisa with plenty of time to think about Greg and Melanie’s strange interaction at the hospital.
"Are you coming in?" she asked. That question had been on her mind for the better part of the day, but now it paled in comparison to the larger questions clamoring in her mind.
"Not tonight."
She reached for the door handle, then dropped her hand to her lap. She couldn’t let the day end with these questions in her mind, no matter that she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answers. "What happened back there, Greg?"
"Please, don’t ask me to explain."
Her eyes focused on the leaves of a maple tree, silhouetted against the porch light. She feared if she got out of this car without hearing his explanation, none would ever be forthcoming.
She cleared her throat. "Can you even imagine what I’m thinking?"
"Not really, no."
She turned to face him, so afraid of what he might reveal. "That you’re still in love with her. That you can’t handle the fact that she’s pregnant with another man’s child." She took a shaking breath in. "Or that the baby might even be yours."
He met her eyes. "None of those are true."
"What is it, then? Obviously, you’re upset about Melanie being pregnant."
He shook his head. "I don’t want to talk about this."
"I want to understand! Yesterday we made love, and today you’re pushing me away and locking me out and I just don’t understand why!"
He got out and closed his door, her eyes following him around the car. He opened her door. "Please get out."
"Talk to me."
"Get out of the car."
She stood up, her eyes beseeching. "Don’t shut me out. I want to help you."
He slammed the door. "What do you want to hear from me? That I’m broken, that I lost everything?"
"You lost Melanie."
"No, Lisa. What I lost was bigger than your sister." He pointed at his chest. "I lost the ability to love another person. You want to know why I was upset when she said she was pregnant?"
Lisa nodded. "Yes."
"Because she’s already gotten farther in her life than I’m ever going to get to go."
"What do you mean?"
He held his palm on his forehead, then dropped his hand to his side. "I was sitting in your kitchen this morning thinking how happy I was to have made it through twenty-four hours enjoying another person’s company."
She took a step toward him. "That’s good."
"That’s pathetic." He shouted. "Melanie and I used to talk about having a family, and now she’s doing it, and I’m so far away from anything like that…"
"It made you sad."
He glared at her. "It made me angry." He began to pace. "I used to want things and think I could have them."
"Like what?"
"I wanted to be a doctor."
She’d wondered if the hospital would get to him today.
Clearly, it had.
"Tell me what else."
"I wanted someone to love." His eyes met hers and his mouth turned down hard. "I wanted a family."
Her heart ached for him, for the battle he was fighting inside. "So make the decision, Greg. Do it, fight for those things, even if it’s hard. Did it ever occur to you that you could have been the one who died over there? But you weren’t. Maybe you came home because you’re supposed to help others. Maybe you’re supposed to be a doctor. Make the decision, and go do it. It’s the only way you’re ever going to be happy."
"Happy? You think I can be happy?"
"Of course you can, given time…"
He stormed around the car and opened his door, then started the engine.
She tried to open the passenger door and found it locked.
"Greg!"
He rolled down the window and she braced herself on the door. "Don’t leave like this. Let’s talk about it."
His eyes were empty. "There’s nothing else to say. Now get off the car so I can go."
She stood up and he pulled away.
She watched his taillights until he drove out of sight.
* * *
The cliffs rose high above Moon Lake, the lights of Cross Creek Bridge in the distance. Greg sat on a boulder smoking a cigarette, the sound of cicadas mixing with the rush of the waterfall below.
This was his place, the spot where he’d been coming since he was a kid, first to feel some sort of independence, and later in search of something else.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever found it.
He stared at the edge, a clear break between hopelessness and determination. Once he’d contemplated crossing that line. Today he knew that was no kind of answer, even if he didn’t know what the right one was.
He moved to the edge and sat, letting his legs dangle over the side. He’d made a mistake today, lashing out at Lisa like that, coming close to making her cry. None of this was her fault.
She was the only good thing in his life.
If she’ll still be in it.
"Greg?"
His head whipped around and he saw her clearly in the moonlight, Lisa standing at the edge of the path that led to this spot. He waved her over, then reached up a hand to help her settle next to him.
"Be careful," he said. "It’s a long way down."
"I won’t fall."
"How’d you know I was here?"
"Lucky guess. This is where I would go if I wanted to be alone."
He nearly chuckled at that. "But you decided to ignore that and come see me anyway."
"I want to finish our talk."
<
br /> He shrugged. "What else is there to say?"
She met his eyes. "I think it’s time for you to tell me what happened in Afghanistan."
There it was, the fifty-dollar question everyone wanted answered. Maybe if he told her the truth, she would leave him alone. No one wanted a man who was broken, in spirit and ability. No one would want him if they could see clearly who he was.
He opened his mouth, not knowing where to begin, and closed it again. He took a deep breath and blew it out. "I got a letter in the mail a while back from the sister of an old army buddy of mine."
The moment he saw the return address he knew it was Evan’s sister, the paper somehow weighing more than he could lift.
"What did it say?"
"I only read the beginning. It said, ‘You can’t know how much I’ve hated you.’"
"Why would she say that?"
"I imagine she’s pissed at me for killing her brother." He sniffed. "I’m pretty pissed about it myself."
He waited for her reaction, but it didn’t come. No questions, no exclamations.
"We were shooting at the enemy across a field. He must have gotten into my line of fire. Or I moved and put him there."
"Which was it?" she asked.
"I moved." His eyes closed. Hadn’t he known it all along, realized that the fault lay with him? "It had been raining hard, and the ground was muddy. I lost my footing."
"This is why you’re not going to be a doctor."
"I killed my best friend. I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s life ever again."
"You picked construction because you figured you couldn’t hurt anyone by building things."
"Ironically, I managed to hurt you, anyway."
"It was an accident."
He shook his head. "I used to have all these dreams for my life. I don’t have any dreams anymore."
"That’s not true. You told me your dreams. Becoming a doctor. Having someone to love. Starting a family."
"Those are my old dreams. I don’t want them anymore."
"They haven’t changed, Greg. You just decided you don’t deserve them."
Emotions he didn’t know he had came rushing to the surface. "Maybe I don’t, Lisa."
She leaned toward him and touched his face. "I think you do."
She kissed him, her lips coaxing him to respond to her, and his eyes closed. His hands fisted in the fabric at her hips and pulled her closer, his desire coming faster than it ever had before.
He needed to connect with her, to be close to another person. As close as he could possibly be.
He lifted his head and helped her to a stand, leading her back to the boulder. Picking her up, he put her on the edge of the large rock, even with his hips, then lifted her shirt over her head and eagerly found her bare nipple with his mouth.
They fit together, the perfect lovers, pressing and fitting softness to bone. When he called out over the roar of the water, he knew in that moment his dreams were the same as they’d ever been, and he knew she was right. He still wanted everything he ever had, a family, becoming a doctor, and having someone to love. He only hoped it would be possible to have all his dreams at the same time.
Chapter 11
Lisa walked from her car into the tasting room of Crescent Moon Vineyards. She needed the key to the barn, and was looking for Rafael. Melanie had gotten her set up, but Lisa hadn’t thought about getting back in.
An older woman with a green silk blouse was standing behind the counter. "Good morning," she said.
"Morning. I’m looking for Rafael Delacruz."
"I haven’t seen him yet today, but he might be in the vineyard. Is he expecting you?"
Lisa narrowed her eyes. "Mrs. Hope?"
"Why yes. Do we know each other?"
"Your daughter Gloria used to babysit for my sister and me." She held out her hand. "I’m Lisa Addario."
"Oh, my! Look at you, all grown up." She smiled. "That makes you Rafael’s sister-in-law, now doesn’t it?"
"I guess it does."
Doris smiled. "Then I’ll call him on his cell phone and see where he is."
"Thanks."
Lisa turned around, taking in her surroundings. She’d been here a few times growing up, on play dates with Melanie and Melanie’s friend Tori, whose family owned the vineyard.
It looked different in here now. More upscale, less rustic. She wondered if her sister had anything to do with that.
"He’s on his way down," said Doris. "Should just be a few minutes."
"Thanks."
Doris began stocking shelves with wine bottles and Lisa wandered through the shop, taking in the knickknacks and unique pieces they had for sale.
Yes, this whole place screamed Melanie.
Lisa fingered a woven trivet with a grape motif.
It’s nice, but I would never give up Greg for this.
It was the pea under seven mattresses, the one thing that kept bothering her. Why hadn’t Melanie stuck it out through the hard times with Greg? Already, Lisa knew she would have persevered if the tables were turned. Greg was just that special.
But Melanie had not.
"Hey, Lisa."
She turned to see Rafael, his handsome tanned face seemingly ever-smiling.
"Morning," she said. "I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to get in the barn."
"Melanie told me. Come on, I’ll open it for you."
He led the way out of the building and headed for barn painted the same yellow as the tasting room, unlocking a padlock and holding the door for her.
"How’s it coming along?" he asked.
"You can come see, if you want." She walked by a forklift and some large machinery she couldn’t identify. "It’s not finished, but it’s getting there. Hopefully today or tomorrow I’ll be done."
She made a turn, coming into an open area with a concrete floor. In the middle stood a metal statue of a soldier, his fingers at his forehead in a salute.
"Wow, that’s incredible," said Rafael, moving closer. He ran his hand along the soldier’s arm. "It’s made of little pieces all put together."
"More than three hundred triangles, all soldered together. The face is one piece, though. I cast that one."
"You are very talented."
She smiled. "Thank you. And thanks for letting me work on it here."
"Thank your sister. She had the guys clear all this out for you."
"Where is she today?"
"Sleeping. She’s been very tired."
"If you see her later, send her my way, would you?"
"Sure thing. And here." He held out a key. "Keep this so you can come and go as you please."
"Thanks, Rafael."
Lisa took out her tools and settled into work. The lighting in the barn was less than ideal, keeping her from truly seeing the patina or the way the piece would reflect light.
Think of it as something to look forward to.
She ran her hands over the sculpture, finding an area she wanted to change and cutting a sheet of metal to size. She looked at her fingers, small cuts bearing witness to myriad sharp triangles already in place.
She wanted them to be sharp, just like the sacrifices of soldiers everywhere. She wanted this man to be knit of the very things that pained him, and have him still stand proud and strong.
Hours slipped away, the barn warming with the heat of day and the blowtorch she was using. By the time Melanie appeared, Lisa was hot and sweaty.
"I brought you some iced tea," said Melanie.
"Thanks."
"He’s really coming along."
"I want him ready for Memorial Day. I was thinking I could ask Mayor Tucker if she would let us do some kind of unveiling."
"Us?"
"I’d like Greg to do it."
Melanie nodded, taking that in. "You two are still seeing each other?"
Lisa raised her chin. "Yes."
Melanie got close to the sculpture and stared intently at it. "You’ve captured something so rea
l in his expression." She shook her hand. "The part of a soldier I was never able to understand."
Melanie wiped at her eyes and Lisa wondered if she was crying again.
She waited for it to start. The upset. The outrage. She could hear it already.
I can’t bear to see you with him.
Lisa swallowed hard. "I care about him, Mel."
"Yeah. I know you do."
Definitely crying.
"I’m sorry if that hurts you."
Melanie met Lisa’s eyes. "Oh, no." She shook her head. "You’ve got that all wrong." She looked back at the statue. "Don’t you see, Lisa? You understand him, where I never could. You accept him, where I refused to believe he had changed." She walked to her sister. "You’re better for him than I ever was. Even before the Army."
Lisa closed her eyes, savoring her sister’s words like the precious gift that they were. "You’re not upset?" she asked.
"Why, because I’m crying?" Melanie laughed. "No. Sentimental, maybe, but not upset. I love Rafael. I hope Greg will always be a friend, but we were never meant to be."
Relief flowed through Lisa, along with something more powerful and strong.
Freedom.
She was free to explore her feelings for Greg without endangering her relationship with her sister.
It was more than she had ever dreamed possible.
* * *
Greg was on his way home for a change of clothes after spending the night with Lisa.
It felt good to sleep in her bed, have her next to him in the darkness, and he was feeling better than he’d felt in a long while.
Morning traffic across the Cross Creek Bridge was heavier than usual, and it occurred to him that tourist season had begun. From Memorial Day through Labor Day, Moon Lake exploded into some kind of vacation hotspot, predictable as clockwork, especially on the weekends.
Traffic slowed to a crawl and he frowned. He made his way off the opposite side of the bridge, and the road turned sharply to the right to follow the east side of Moon Lake.
There, on the median, was a minivan on its side. A tractor-trailer was jackknifed in the opposite direction.
Greg’s eyes swung back to the van and his heart beat wildly as he took in the scene. There were several cars stopped with people on the grass, running for the car and truck, while most people continued on to their destination after a few moments of rubbernecking.
