My dad. Memories flooded back of the two of us out in the garage working on his 1969 Chev Camaro with its bright blue paint and two racing stripes down the front. We spent hours in that damn garage, Dad under the hood and me standing beside him handing him the tools he asked for.
I knew behind the closed door the car would still be sitting pretty. Mom hadn’t had the heart to sell it or give it to anyone. It marked too many happy times for her to part with. Just like all Dad’s stuff. She’d kept it. Boxed it up but retained it, unable to let go. I understood. If it were Mac…shit.
Don’t go there. You saved her, remember?
“You ready?” Viper broke into my thoughts. I hadn’t noticed he’d turned off the engine and had his door open.
Not answering, I slowly climbed from his SUV.
The front door opened, stopping me dead.
In the doorway my mother appeared, her hair tied up in a bun, floral sun-dress on, and the beautiful smile on her face I remembered well.
Home. She represented all home was or could ever be. Seeing her face unloaded a ton of emotion through my already amped up psyche. She represented the best parts of me. The young boy who grew up idolizing his father, wanting to be just like him. The kid who had been so shy early on, he hid underneath is mother’s long skirts when being introduced to strangers. The youngster who’d spent countless hours sitting on the counter in the kitchen watching his mother bake cookies, licking the bowl clean of the raw dough, and then carrying a basket full next door to old Mrs. James, who would slip me a quarter for being so kind. I could feel the onset of tears. Damn! There weren’t many people who could bring me to my knees, but Ma was one of them.
Letting my legs guide me, I powered toward her, picking up speed. I left Viper in my wake, the only thing I needed was the comfort of my mother’s arms and her gardenia-scented perfume.
Her arms lifted to welcome me and I couldn’t get there fast enough. A swell of tears formed, a whimper leaving my mouth as I reached her and wrapped her up in a fierce hug, never wanting to let go. She felt frailer than I remembered, but I guess she’d been going through a lot of stress in my absence.
“My boy. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Ma.” I choked it out, unable to say another word. I sniffed her unique smell, etching it into every crevice of me, regretful that I’d missed so much of her life since I’d joined the military.
Without Dad she lived on her own. It must get awfully lonely.
Pulling back, I drank her in. Her face had aged somewhat, lines deepening around her mouth and eyes. Her hair a little grayer.
“Look at you,” she cooed. “My handsome child.” Gripping my face in both hands, she planted a kiss on my cheek, her own tears falling like snowflakes.
Yeah, she still thought of me as her baby. I didn’t correct her.
“It’s so good to see you, Ma. We have a lot to catch up on.”
She didn’t know about my shooting. About Mac or the abduction. I’d decided to wait to tell her everything in person.
Mom beamed and looked over my shoulder. “Charlie!”
I chuckled at the moniker. She still called him by his birth name, which sounded weird, as everyone I knew called him Viper. Only a handful knew his real name, being a military ghost.
“Hi, Mrs. Harding. Great to see you again.” My friend suddenly became younger again also. I could feel his military persona dissolve in my mother’s presence. Here we were, just her two boys. Me, her son, and Viper, as close to an adopted child as he could be without actually being one.
“Come in, both of you. I’ve put the coffee pot on.”
Moving inside, I took in the interior, noting nothing had changed. I hadn’t really expected it to. The same beige sofa sat against the main wall that overlooked the large front window. A framed print of the Eiffel Tower sat above it. The smell of coffee wafted through from the kitchen as we followed my mom into the kitchen. It felt strange being home after everything that had transpired. The months since I’d visited seemed like years. Nostalgia filled me as I looked at the wooden dining table set off to the right of the spacious kitchen.
We’d spent many family dinners at that table, discussing our days and working out problems. As strict as my dad had been, he’d also been fair and honorable. A proud man. Proud of his family, he wasn’t afraid to praise us to others. His booming laugh drifted across my senses just out of reach and a wave of sadness eased through me.
A hand on my shoulder helped me focus again, my mother watching me with concerned eyes.
“Sit, son. Take a load off.”
Pouring three mugs of coffee, she handed us ours and sat opposite in her usual spot. Noting the dark circles under her weary eyes, I worried about her.
“You okay, Ma? You sleeping and eating well?”
I knew she wouldn’t tell me if there were something wrong. She had always carried burdens herself, choosing not to worry either Dad or myself.
“I’m fine. Not sleeping well lately, that’s all. Don’t worry.”
I did worry about her living on her own, but I took her word for it.
“So tell me what’s been happening with you, Dec?”
Yeah, my mother called me Dec too. It’s strange. With all my faculties back, I knew who I was and yet, I didn’t know if I wanted to be him anymore. I liked the man I had been as Harley. I associated the name with Mac. And yet, Dec had been me all along. The person experiencing life thus far.
I glanced over to Viper, who had stopped drinking his coffee to communicate to me with his eyes. They spoke volumes. She didn’t need to know most things. If anything.
As if she’d been able to tap into my psyche, she asked the one question I didn’t want her to.
“Have you met anyone yet? A nice girl?”
On a cough, I looked back to her, wondering how to answer. Deciding to skim over the details and leave it casual, I replied, “I may have. It’s early days yet.”
A sparkle gleamed in her eye. She wanted to see me find someone special and perhaps start a family.
“Where did you meet her? You’ll have to bring her around for dinner.”
Viper cleared his throat too, obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed.
“Like I said, it’s early days.” How the hell did I explain why I’d met Mac at the hospital?
Saving my ass, Viper spoke up. “She’s a friend of mine. I introduced them.”
God bless him. He’d lied to my mother, but in this moment, I had to thank him for his quick thinking.
She seemed to buy it, nodding. “Well, I still want to meet her.”
Huffing out, I said, “If things progress, I’ll bring her over for dinner. I promise.”
We finished our coffees, chatting about nothing in particular, just enjoying the visit. We spoke about our last mission, glossing over a large portion of it. Mothers were on a need to know basis only, and with our ghost status, there was a lot we weren’t allowed to reveal. She didn’t know the half of it, thank goodness, and it would always remain that way. Her mind still held wonderful memories of my life with her and Dad, and I didn’t intend to change it.
“You mind if I go out to the garage?” I asked, needing to feel closer to Dad, even though I could still feel his presence inside.
Mom raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “You sure you’re ready? You haven’t been out there since your father…” She choked on the last word.
I rose and walked around the table to her, leaning down and burying my face into her neck. “I miss him too.”
In fact, I must have grieved for him prior to my shooting, because while sadness still cloaked my heart, it wasn’t unbearable.
“You want to join me?” I asked Viper.
Rising, he took the last sip of his coffee and placed his cup in the sink. “Lead the way, brother.”
Reaching for the key from a hook on the wall near the sliding door, I headed out. Each step forward pumped blood harder through my veins. It would be like
stepping back in time, nothing having changed.
“You ready to do this?” Viper asked from behind me.
“No, but I need to.”
Putting the key in the lock on the side door, I opened it, the darkness swamping me for a moment as I reached to the left and fumbled for the light switch.
Even in the middle of the day, virtually no light got in until all the doors were opened.
The smell hit me. Memories followed.
“So, you’re getting married, huh?”
Dad leaned over the hood, tightening a hose clamp while I watched. We’d been chatting for the last hour. I relished these times. Our time. Just the two of us on a Sunday morning while Mom cleaned the house.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” I smiled down at him. Since telling my parents about marrying Trudy, they’d congratulated me, yet had mixed reactions. My mother had been thrilled. My dad, happy but reserved. I hoped now, he’d talk to me about why he might not be as encouraging as Mom.
“She prepared for the military life? It’s not easy, son.”
“I’ve asked her numerous times and explained that I’d be away on missions for weeks at a time, but she supports me and my career. We’ve known each other since high school, Dad. She knows how much I want this.”
“I’m just saying. She might think that now, but when you’re away in the middle of a war zone, missing birthdays, holidays, and other special occasions, she might regret her decision.”
He lifted his head and looked at me, his face drawn with worry.
I could imagine how concerned both he and Mom were, let alone having a wife at home, waiting and wondering as well. I’d questioned my reasons for asking Trudy to marry me. Whether I should put her through such anxiety, but at the end of the day, we loved each other, and knowing I had a committed woman back home would keep me going through the darkest of days. I trusted her to stick by me. She’d promised.
“She’s strong, Dad. I’m sure everything will be fine.” At least I hoped it would. I’d never had any doubts until now.
“And you sure you’re ready for marriage? I mean, is she the one?” Obviously seeing my eyes narrow at his probing questions, he cut me off. “Now, I know I sound like I’m not supporting you on this, but marriage isn’t easy at the best of times. Throw in a husband who puts his life on the line, it’s even tougher. You’ll see things, son, that will change you. You won’t be the same person you are now. It takes a super strong woman to deal with that.”
Breathing out and handing him the wrench when he reached for it, I replied, “I love her. She’s been there for me. She can handle it.” Couldn’t she?
Shit. Dad was putting qualms in my head. What if I got killed in action? She’d be left a war widow. Would she ever get over it?
“You didn’t answer my question, Dec. Is she the one? Does she make you a better person? Do you fall asleep at night and wake up each morning thinking of her? Does she help you breathe easier? Would she put her life on the line for you? Sacrifice it all, like you’re doing for her? Does she put those damn butterflies in your stomach, still?”
“Does Mom still do that for you?” I stalled and he knew it.
“You first.”
I mean, I did love Trudy. She was gorgeous, sweet, and caring. She looked after me all the time. Our sex life was great.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have asked her to marry me otherwise.” A niggling little seed of uncertainty grew in my brain that hadn’t been there before this conversation. My dad meant well and I knew he spoke from experience but, shit. I didn’t need to be having reservations. I had to steer the discussion in another direction. “Now you answer the question.”
Dad straightened from under the hood and faced me, a wistful expression on his face. “Son, I knew your mother would end up my wife for life the day I saw her, picking flowers in her parents’ front garden as I rode home from my after school job. I nearly ran off the road and into a parked car. She took my breath away. As I passed, she turned to me and smiled. I swear the sun shone even brighter in that moment. My heart expanded. Nothing has changed to this day. She still lights up the room when I walk in. I still find myself catching my breath when she smiles.”
Shaking off his lucid reverie, he moved to the work bench to grab a rag, wiping his hands on it.
“I just want you to experience that, son. ’Cause I’m telling you, when you find it, you’ll know.”
He didn’t speak any more about my marriage. He’d said what he needed to. After that, he’d grabbed a beer out of the small fridge and we’d sat on two crates in the garage, in quiet contemplation.
“You have another memory? Man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Letting my eyes adjust, I turned to Viper, half-expecting to see my father, but finding my worried friend instead.
“Yep. Just shooting the breeze with my old man in this very garage.”
“Well, that’s twice today I’ve seen you shed tears.”
“What?”
“Dude, you’re crying.”
Lifting my hand to my eyes, I found them wet again. Christ! I never cried. The memory had felt so damn real. All it had taken was a visit to my parents’ house and a lucid memory of my dad. I guess visiting had affected me more than I thought it would.
Attempting to shake it off, I spun and eyed the very car I’d just been daydreaming about. She stood sleek and proud, exactly the way Dad had left her. My fingers reached out to touch the paint, fragments of my memory lingering as I walked around her to the driver’s side. Opening the door, I sat behind the wheel, failing at keeping the tears at bay. It was all too much. The emotion. The loss. I’d never get to share this space with my father ever again. Never hear his advice born out of love. Share a beer or two or take her for a drive after fine-tuning the engine.
I let my hand travel to the glove compartment, flicking the button to open it. Focusing on the interior and its contents, my eyes landed on Dad’s favorite pair of aviator shades, sitting atop the original owner’s manual. Picking them up, my gut overturned and my shoulders sagged as incredible grief swamped me further. I couldn’t keep in my wretched sobs as I broke down. Not even at the funeral had I let go because I’d been determined to stay strong for Mom.
Now in the quiet and solitude of Dad’s favorite possession, his passing came crashing down and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it. Twelve months of locked away anger at him being taken so soon. Twelve months of still expecting to see him or hear from him. Twelve months of wondering if there was anything we could have done to avoid his heart attack. Not being with him before he died. All of it compounded and crashed into me.
I barely heard the passenger door open and close as Viper got in. A hand went to my shoulder and squeezed, but no words were uttered as he let me mourn.
My body weighed a ton under the burden of sorrow.
Like a shark, it tore strips off me, letting me bleed out with no mercy. I sat crying like a girl for ages, Viper at my side as always. I’m surprised he hadn’t shot out a sarcastic remark to lighten the mood, but then, he’d always known when to keep his mouth shut. I don’t know what I would have done without him over the years and I was glad he shared this moment with me.
Feeling the last of my heaving gasps ease, I placed the sunglasses back in the glove compartment where they belonged and closed it, not knowing what the hell to do from here.
“You want to go grab a beer? A final goodbye to your dad?” Viper quietly asked.
Nodding, we got out. I pulled myself together enough to hopefully hide my breakdown from Mom and went to take a step toward the door when I halted. My mother was already inside, tears in her own eyes. She’d heard everything.
Stalking to her, I wrenched her small body into mine, squeezing her tightly, letting her shed her own grief over mine.
“He was so proud of you,” she whispered.
Hearing it made me grip her even harder. “I know, Ma. I know.”
I couldn’t imagine what she’d be
en through and how she managed to continue on so well. They’d been perfect together, complementing each other so well, it just didn’t seem fair that fate had stepped in.
Gathering herself and pushing off me, she lifted her hand. Dangling from her fingers were a set of keys I instantly recognized.
“He wanted you to have the car. I wanted to make sure you were ready before I handed the keys over. I think you are now.” She smiled warmly, her wet cheeks crinkling.
Overcome with shock and delight that she was gifting me with something Dad had treasured, knowing I too would look after it, I gently took the keys from her.
“Are you sure? I have nowhere to store her.”
“I’m positive, and you can keep her here and drive her whenever you wish.”
Wow. I truly didn’t have any words other than, “Thank you.”
“You can keep her at my place if you want, bro. I’ve got a double lock-up garage. It’s up to you.”
Glancing at my mother and then at Viper, I digressed. On one hand it would be great having it at Viper’s house because his place was closer to mine. And on the other hand, every time I wanted to drive it, I could visit Mom if it remained here. Tracing her bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face with my fingers, I knew my answer.
“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to leave her here.”
My mother’s eyes lit up. She knew why I’d refused my friend over her. Giving my hand a squeeze, she began to walk away, calling over her shoulder, “Take her for a spin.”
I planned on it and I knew just where I wanted to take her. Checking the time on my watch, I smiled.
“Can I take a raincheck on that beer, bro?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mac
With my face back to normal and my permanent day shift in full-swing, life had resumed some sort of routine. I’d switched from ICU to the Emergency ward and had been run off my feet all morning with a head-trauma victim, a teen with broken ribs and fractured pelvis from a motorbike accident, and a child with a fish hook in his finger.
The Lost and Found Series Page 32
