"Well, hello to you, too." I didn't need to see her to know that whatever expression was on Mary's face, it was filled with sarcasm. "Micah had another shift and Grace asked me to come."
"She did?"
Mary sighed long and loud, just to make a point. "Yeah, she did. She was here for almost three whole days with barely any sleep, no thanks to you two idiots. I don't know why nobody called me, but whatever. You honestly think she'd just ditch you at the first sign of you feeling better?"
I carefully found my way to the table as she spoke, counting my steps as I rocked on my crutches and put more weight on my left leg. Every day I was stronger, but today felt like I'd taken ten steps back. In more ways than one.
"I guess not," I answered, settling into a chair. My head was still fuzzy, but I needed to be up and moving as much as possible. It chased away whatever this was.
"Well, she wouldn't. She's exhausted and still worried about you. I wouldn't be surprised if she was already asleep, though."
"What time is it?"
"Seven o'clock. You've been hiding in your room for a few hours."
After an awkward breakfast, I had retreated to my room, falling asleep for a couple hours until Grace woke me in the afternoon. We didn't talk much. Not with Micah sticking around most of the day. I didn't get a chance to ask Grace what I did wrong.
"Did she seem upset when she left?" I asked my sister, a little too transparently.
"No, just tired. A little quiet."
I nodded, thinking of that short conversation from this morning. Searching for any reason why Grace might be upset because of what I said.
"What happened this morning, Merrick? Micah told me you two looked pretty deep into something when he showed up and then suddenly, neither one of you was speaking to the other."
"I honestly don't know."
Another silent moment passed before Mary knocked on the table, getting my full attention. "Well? You going to tell me what the conversation was at least?"
I bowed my head and raked a hand through my hair, remembering how good it felt when it was Grace's hand. "She asked me a question and I guess I gave the wrong answer," I mumbled.
"And what was the question?"
"Why do you care?"
"Umm, was that the question or are you being a dumbass again?"
"Mary."
"Merrick."
"God, you can be really annoying these days."
There was a smile in her voice when she said, "I know."
I leaned forward and rested my arms on the table, smoothing my fingers over the hard surface and feeling some of the scratches made over the years. Why couldn't I be that sensitive to what Grace needed? Touch, smell, hearing ... it all came so much easier, but I still had no idea how to talk.
"Why me?"
"Excuse me?"
I sighed, suddenly embarrassed that I was relying on my sister to help me figure out how to speak to a woman. "She asked, 'Why me?'."
"And?"
"And ... I said I didn't know and that I didn't care about the why."
"Hmm, that's interesting," she muttered.
"Why do you say that?" I asked, hoping she had answers for me I knew I'd never figure out on my own.
"Do you know what happened to her? With her ex?"
I nodded, remembering the conversation she'd had with Keara a few nights earlier. I still didn't know what to think about it. "The asshole left her after ... she lost her baby."
I expected surprise from Mary, but instead, she seemed to be all too aware of Grace's past. "Jason cheated on her a lot," she informed me. "Why she was with him, well, she's too good of a person. When he got her pregnant, he promised he'd stick around for the baby. Then, when the baby was gone, he was gone, too."
"How do you know all of this?"
"I listen to the gossip around the neighborhood sometimes," she said, a small chuckle following that little bit of information. "People talk. Some of them knew Jason and some of them have seen him since he left Grace. They put the pieces together. I just overheard them."
"How is this supposed to help me?" I growled. "It just pisses me off that she went through that."
"Well, if you paid attention to those small facts, you might understand the very important question Grace asked you in the first place. He didn't have a reason to stay anymore."
I felt like a child being reprimanded. I was too angry about what happened to Grace to really understand what it did to her. "So, he left her as soon as the only reason he stayed was gone," I stated.
Mary's chair screeched across the floor when she stood. "What does that tell you?" she asked.
Her footsteps moved to the fridge, leaving me to think. I heard her gasp before she shut the door. "God, I'm starving," she groaned.
"Help yourself."
"I certainly will. So?"
"It tells me Jason Reed is still the asshole he always was," I grumbled. I knew I should have kicked his ass back in high school. He was always playing the girls I knew, making them hate all of us anyway.
A few beeps on the microwave and then Mary was back at the table. "That's the obvious part. You think that might have had an effect on Grace?"
"Of course it did. I can already tell that she tries to hide it, but it's there. She didn't deserve that."
The microwave beeped and the smell of pizza filled the kitchen. Mary moved around the room for a minute before placing a plate in front of me. Then it finally hit me.
Why me?
"I want her for her. Not any other reason."
"So you do know why then," she said.
"There really isn't a why. It just is. I can't picture myself without her anymore. I don't want to." I thought of all the things I discovered about Grace since she started coming over. All the things I couldn't get out of my mind. "She's kind and compassionate, but she has a spark when she needs it." I smiled. There were a lot of arguments we'd had that ended with me needing a cold shower. "She's smart and funny. She's beautiful in every way that matters and even though I know she's beautiful on the outside, I don't care. And not because I can't see her. Every time she walks into the room, I feel her. Everywhere. Not seeing her ... it sucks, but I don't have to see her to know I'm in love with her."
Mary cleared her throat. "That's a pretty good answer. Why didn't you go with that?"
"Because I'm an idiot."
"No, you're not. You're just a man."
I gave a bitter laugh. "That doesn't really help."
"No, but it's necessary," she chuckled. "She wants you, too, Mer. She just wants to protect herself from another heart break."
"How do you know all of this?"
"I'm a woman," she said, as if that was supposed to answer all questions in the known universe. "Remember that and you'll be just fine."
I pushed away from the table, suddenly needing to fix things before Grace had a chance to think about it too much. And she would think about it.
"Where you going?" Mary asked when I stood and fumbled with my crutches.
"I'm going to talk to her."
"You should really let her sleep."
"I know, but this can't wait. She needs to know."
"Okay, okay," Mary said. Nobody realized that I knew exactly when someone was smiling when they spoke. Voices changed with expressions. It was one thing I learned early on and only got better at recognizing. My sister included.
I started for the front door, miscounting my steps and accidentally bumping into the wall a couple times.
"You've got two options," Mary called behind me. "I can take you over there or you can attempt it by yourself."
I stopped, panting for breath from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I had no idea how to get to Grace's house. It wasn't far, but it had been too long since I'd seen the surroundings.
"Will you tell me where to go?" I pleaded.
Her footsteps started up the hallway and stopped beside me. "Of course, little bro." Another smile.
We made it out the fro
nt door and the nervousness suddenly overwhelmed me. Rejection. It sucked and it was always a risk.
Don't be a coward. You've been through hell, what's a little rejection going to do?
"Turn left and move slow," Mary directed. "When you hit concrete again, that's the sidewalk leading to the porch. Turn left and follow it to the door. Two steps, I think, is all there is."
"Thanks, Mary."
Her hand touched my cheek, patting softly. "Don't screw it up. Just be honest. That's all she wants."
I nodded. "I will."
"Good luck."
Then she was gone and I was alone, outside, for the first time in months, no more ready for this mission than I was weeks ago.
***
I stood at Grace's door for a good five minutes before I finally reached out and knocked. My heart pounded in my throat, my hands sweating, but I finally figured out what I needed to say to her.
The sound of the deadbolt twisting, reached my ears before the door creaked open.
"Merrick?"
"Grace." I cleared my throat and tried for a lighthearted tone that sounded more droll than anything else. "How are you?"
"Umm, fine. What are you doing here?"
Good so far. "I needed to talk to you."
"About?" She sounded apprehensive.
She had nothing to be afraid of because it was my entire self-worth she held in her hands. That's stupid, Merrick. Be a man.
"You asked me a question earlier and I'd like to tell you the answer."
"Merrick, I don't think–"
"Please, Grace. Just give me a few minutes and if you want me to leave after, I'll go."
I held my breath, waiting for her to tell me to take a hike. She didn't and my relief almost made me fall over on my crutches.
"Come on in," she relented. It almost put me out of my misery, but there was so much more to say.
I rocked forward on my crutches and stepped into the house. Grace shut the door and guided me over to the couch.
"Do you want anything?" she offered.
Just you.
"No. Thank you."
To my surprise, she sat next to me, making the cushion sink beside me as her leg brushed up against mine. The room was suddenly stifling.
I tugged on my shirt collar and swallowed the fear down. Way down. "Thanks for letting me in. I was expecting you to shut the door in my face. I deserve it," I said, forcing a weak smile.
"Merrick–"
"Sorry. I just, I'm really nervous."
"You are?"
I chuckled and dropped my head forward. Honesty would go a lot farther in this situation. "Yeah, for some reason I feel like if I could see your face, I'd know if you were mad or not. I can't tell right now and it's killing me."
"I'm not mad," she denied soothingly, then placed her hand on my arm.
"Good."
Several tense seconds passed as I gathered what courage I could find. Never in my life had I been this on edge. Not even on the plane to Iraq. That was child's play compared to this.
"What did you want to tell me?"
I swallowed thickly and drew in a long breath. Her hand slid down my arm and wrapped around my fingers when I started tapping my leg. I wanted to just blurt it out right then and there, but I had some explaining to do.
"I was in charge of my men," I began. "First Lieutenant. My team relied on me to know what to do at all times and they trusted me. I always felt like I let them down, even knowing I had no control over what happened. It's just something I can't fight hard enough."
It's also the very thing that kept me going those first weeks of hell, after the attack. Thinking about my men was all I had and seeing them in my head, over and over again, was the only way I could cope. It kept me grounded in a strange sort of way.
Grace squeezed my hand tightly, her soft skin engulfing mine. I lifted our hands and pressed my lips to the back of hers. It was instinct. Pure, natural instinct to touch her like that. Her gasp made me close my eyes, but she didn't pull away. I pressed my nose to her skin and inhaled that sweet smell of hers.
"You're so soft," I whispered, mostly to myself, and kissed her hand again. It took a few long moments to finally drop them back to my thigh, then I forced myself to get back on track.
"I was in the Army National Guard. We were brought in to train the Iraqi military, teach them how to do things right so we could get out of there. It wasn't the most ... vigorous job, according to few, but it was important. I wasn't sneaking into buildings or capturing prisoners, but I was doing something that would hopefully end the need for those men to even be there doing that shit.
"We'd travel to small bases to train, sometimes spending ten days at a time there. We were surrounded by Iraqi soldiers and we'd spend the nights smack dab in the middle of the compound."
I took a deep breath, remembering how nervous I was that first night I stayed on a foreign base. It wasn't active, but it was still dangerous. Men are capable of anything when it comes to their beliefs and protecting their families.
"A lot of those guys were really great. They were just like us. Kids protecting their country, or at least trying to by doing what they were told. Then there were some who hated us and just wanted us gone. I get it. I'd feel the same way, but it wouldn't change anything. We were still there and they still hated us. Just had to do my job and move on, all the while hoping nothing got too violent.
"I'd heard about the teams that ran into a rogue a time or two. No one can weed out the bad ones until it's too late. That kept us alert, but how do you control something like that? You can't," I scoffed, still wishing it were different. "Some of them would try to infiltrate the trainers. They'd squeeze themselves in until they were established nice and tight, then they'd turn the gun on us because they believed it was their destiny. What they were supposed to do."
Even now, I could feel the bitterness in hearing the stories. I wanted justice for men I never met.
"It happened, but not so often that it gave us reason to stop. We had a job to do whether they liked us or not."
I recalled the faces of some of the Iraqi men I had to trust, at least temporarily. They were funny and crazy; innocent. They just wanted it over, too. Living in a country that had some hard times – just like any other – came with its struggles. It wasn't their fault. Some parts of war can be civil. That's why it's possible to eventually end it without more losses than necessary. It's just that humans always failed at the civil part.
"It wasn't all training and tiptoeing around each other. There were times where we went days just doing paperwork." I paused, a sick amusement making me snicker. "I loved those days. Writing a report about the mission progress or someone I didn't think belonged was easier than holding a gun. I didn't want to be out there risking my neck and I didn't want to have to kill. No man does."
It was so much simpler to spend the day in an office writing the same things over and over, counting the numbers for supplies, listing names and dates. I would have done anything to stay in that office every day, even if I was bored out of my mind half the time. Paperwork didn't have an expiration.
"Then there were days we had free time. We'd hit the gym in the morning, eat, take inventory on our gear, and spend the rest of it trying to stay cool. Relaxing. There was always a little bit of normal, but it wasn't ever enough."
"What kinds of things did you do?" Grace inquired, her small voice penetrating my memories.
I shrugged. "Anything really. Video games, reading, whatever we felt like that we had at our disposal."
"I didn't realize you had all that over there."
I gave a half shrug, "Not many people do."
It was an attempt to center ourselves before we had to roll out to another compound. Before we had to see the destruction on the streets as we drove by.
It was a countdown.
"Ryan spent a lot of his free days making lists. Lists about what he needed for the nursery, what Miranda was craving, or what the doctor said at her las
t appointment. He'd spend hours staring at the ultrasound pictures she sent him," I mused, grinning because we all knew he was obsessed with it no matter how much he actually tried to hide it. "Then, when he finally felt some peace about what was going on back home, he'd join us for a movie or a barbeque. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was jealous of that. The ability to forget where he was and focus on home ... I wanted that."
"I'm sure it was difficult," Grace whispered. "I can't imagine what it would be like not knowing what was happening back home."
I was so wrapped up in trying to stay alert and ready that I forgot to worry about normal things. After a while, you forget about sports teams and scores when you're in the middle of the desert surrounded by people that really don't like you being there. Any moment could become your last. There isn't time to truly care about the next game. You try because it's what you're supposed to do, but it's rarely real.
It's still an odd feeling to just forget. But eventually you realize that all the luxuries back home need to stay home. You don't really need them anymore. Not out there.
"It gets frustrating," I continued. "Sometimes, you forget the reasons why you went there in the first place. It's hot on a good day. When it rains, you end up covered to the hip with muck and mud. It's not the most beautiful terrain, especially on base. Everything is covered in dirt and sand, and even the sky looks like it's just dust sweeping back and forth. Blue skies were rare. You tend to miss those little things that people back home don't ever think about."
I released Grace's hand and rubbed my palms over the tops of my thighs. I was starting to feel all those doubts again. The ones that made me angry in the first place. The uncontrollable things.
"No one knows what goes through the mind of each man out there. It's no longer a job that feeds your family or pays for school," I told her, knowing I spoke for ninety nine percent of the men out there. "I was done. Sick of the smells, the air, the purpose. Why should I stay and risk my life for people who wanted me dead anyway? For what? To teach a few men something they might use against me?"
I raked my fingers through my hair and drew in a long, cleansing breath. Grace needed to hear it all. She needed to know that the damaged man in front of her wasn't empty. I still had so much to give and I wanted to give it to her.
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