Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2)

by Patty Campbell

  * * *

  “Dammit to hell!” He picked up the stapler and hurled it across the room. He slammed the top of the desk with his fist. “Ow!”

  Chief peeked around the door frame. “Safe to come in?” He bent over and picked up scattered pieces of the innocent, now violated, desk accessory. “Somebody has his skivvies in a knot.”

  “What?” Cluny glared. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Female trouble would be my guess.”

  Cluny flashed a murderous scowl.

  “Yep. Women. You can’t live with’em and you can’t live with’em.” He directed a wry smile at Cluny.

  Cluny dropped his booted feet on top of the scarred desk. “You’re full of wisdom, old man.”

  “Been married to the same woman for over forty years, jarhead, and I have yet to determine what makes her tick.” He chuckled and dropped the shattered corpse of the stapler in the overflowing wastebasket at the corner of the desk.

  “That’s encouraging.”

  “Wasn’t meant to be. Had to happen sooner or later, you know. The first big fight. There’ll be plenty more if you two stick it out. Don’t mean you don’t love each other. It’s the way living with a woman is. Can’t be helped.”

  Cluny’s chair bounded forward with a painful squeak and his work boots hit the floor. “I’m going to get some lunch before you bestow any more of your sageness on me, Chief.” He slammed the ball cap on his head. “Hold down the fort.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  Cluny went back to his car. He got in and grabbed a handful of Queen’s hair and gave it a good shake. “I didn’t forget you, Queenie. Let’s go get that hamburger.” He turned out of the industrial neighborhood and headed to McDonald’s, gave his order at the drive through, paid, and then parked under a big oak tree.

  Queen’s panting increased when she smelled the food. Her tail thumped on the passenger door in anticipation of her favorite not-good-for-dogs treat.

  Graciella’s call played havoc in Cluny’s head. He took his time eating. Queen downed her burger in two gulps and was nosing his soft drink. “Hey! Get out of there.” He took the top off the paper cup containing water. “That’s yours.”

  Should he have been less quick to react? Spent more time putting her at ease about his weekend? No, dammit! She had no reason to mistrust him. She had plenty of reason to feel insecure, he supposed, but not with him. She was irrational. He rolled his eyes and groaned. Graciella hadn’t exactly demanded anything from him; she’d expressed herself, supposing she was safe telling him her feelings, her fear. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and touched her picture on the display. No answer, so he tapped a text: Sorry. U hav nthng 2 worry abt. I’ll call when I gt bak Sun nt. I luv u. C.

  His thumb hovered over Send. He pushed Cancel. He’d give her time to settle down, try her again later. He squeezed his eyes closed and wondered if he’d have a repeat performance of the nightmare tonight. He missed being able to reach across the bed for her, missed pulling her close, missed holding her. Sleeping together once or twice a week just didn’t cut it. Something had to give.

  He considered calling Hot Stick to say he’d changed plans, and then going online to cancel his train reservation. Instead he grabbed the trash from lunch and carried it to a big waste can. He watched while Queen sniffed the low, growing junipers at the perimeter, deciding which one to honor with her urine.

  “Shake a leg, girl. We got a lot more to do this afternoon.” He clapped. “Car!”

  Doubts assailed him on the drive to the warehouse. He immediately plunged into paperwork and returned several phone calls.

  “Knocking off, boss.” Chief stood in the doorway wiping his gnarled hands on a shop towel. “Me and the boys are done for the day. Enjoy your trip. We’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”

  “I’ll call the answering service and remind them to call you for emergencies.”

  “Already done.” Chief stuffed the towel in his back pocket and waved. “G’night.”

  “Give Lu a kiss for me.”

  “If I tell her it’s from you, she’ll probably allow it. She’s got her book club this evening. Looks like I’ll get some peace and quiet.”

  The old man wasn’t fooling Cluny. Those two were completely devoted to each other. They’d weathered many storms and long deployments, but the love in their eyes gleamed every time he’d seen them together. “Turn off the lights in the warehouse. I’ll go out the side door soon as I’m done here.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  Quiet descended on the warehouse in the lowering sunlight. Against his wishes, he thought of Graciella again and wondered how he could have handled it differently. What more could he do? It was her problem. She’d have to come to terms with his friendship with Mis. If he gave up their friendship to put Graciella at ease, eventually he’d resent her for it.

  What a mess.

  Were men and women ever meant to live together? Why couldn’t he and Graciella be more like Dwayne and Marla? He gave himself a mental slap. Grow up. Nobody ever knew what went on behind closed doors. Every couple had problems.

  He blew a resigned sigh, straightened-up the desk, and grabbed his keys.

  Saturday afternoon ballgame

  Graciella and Marla handed out treats during the seventh inning stretch while Lillian walked back and forth behind the bleachers with a feverish, fussy Declan.

  “Poor baby, he’s trying to cut teeth already,” Marla said. “He’s an overachiever just like his daddy.”

  “I remember those days. I spent many a night pacing the floor with an inconsolable Santos in my arms. Before long I was doing as much crying as he was. It wasn’t post-partum depression. It was exhaustion, pure and simple.”

  “Ouch. At least I have Dwayne to take turns with me. Last night he wouldn’t let me get up. I heard him in that squeaky rocker in the living room, trying his best to let me get some sleep.” Marla buttoned up the canvas bag holding what was left of the energy bars and apples. “How are you doing with Cluny gone?”

  “I screwed things up by calling him Thursday to say how uncomfortable I felt about him spending two days with you-know-who. All I accomplished was getting his back up about trying to pick his friends. We were both mad by the time I hung up on him.”

  “Uh-oh. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” Marla sat next to her and squeezed her arm. “It’s not the end of the world.”

  “I should have known better. He was offended that I didn’t trust him. I’m sure we’ll get it smoothed over when he calls me tomorrow night.” She fanned her face and neck against the afternoon heat.

  Sunday night, Beachy’s car

  Beachy angled her head and said, “I want to know why you’ve been down in the dumps all weekend. And you might as well tell me,” she warned, “because I’m fed up with your lousy mood and long face. Either open up or walk back.”

  Cluny tried to make a joke of it. “You’d make Queen walk all the way home?”

  “Cut the crap, Mac. What’s going on? Did you have a fight with her?”

  “You mean Graciella?”

  “God, you’re such a smartass. I wasn’t talking about your dog.”

  Was that what it was? A fight? He didn’t think it met the level of a fight, but emotions had run high on both sides of their conversation. How much would he reveal to Mis, if anything? He changed the subject. “What do you think of Hot Stick?”

  “He’s a jerk. Don’t try to change the subject.”

  “Why’s he a jerk?”

  “He just is. Ever since the first time I met him ten years ago in the sandbox, he’s made it clear he doesn’t think much of women in the military. He keeps it under wraps, but it’s always there, just beneath the surface. His attitude hasn’t changed.”

  He chuckled inwardly at her sour expression, but knew better than to get her started, so a brief smile was the only thing that could give him away. “He’s a little old school. Give the guy a br
eak.”

  “Old school? He can’t be more than forty-two, forty-three at the most.”

  “I wasn’t referring to his age. He’s got no wife and a teenage daughter. I get the impression she’s a handful.”

  “Where’s her mother?” She glanced quickly at him then turned her eyes to the perpetually jammed freeway.

  “She bailed on them about three years ago. Said she never liked being a military wife, so she divorced him and a year later married another grunt and followed him overseas. Face it, Mis, your species has always been a mystery to us lesser beings.”

  “No kidding. You’re about the closest to a girl of any guy I’ve ever known.”

  “Wow. What a compliment, I love being your girlfriend.” He tinged his remark with sarcasm.

  “You should. I’m very choosy, Mac.” She stared straight ahead with a wide, feisty grin on her face. He reached across the seat and tugged on her earlobe. “Ouch.” She laughed and pulled away.

  Maybe she was on to something. Cluny had always sought the company of women. It must have been his craving for the softness of his mother’s love. When that love was ripped away at such an early age, he gravitated to the girls in the foster homes and to the foster moms who had a little bit to spare for their temporary children.

  His dating history was steady and spotty. He loved to laugh, loved fun dates, and when he could manage it, good sex. Even mediocre sex was good sex. He’d just never connected on a level as deep as he’d achieved with Graciella. She was the first—scratch that—only woman he’d ever met who he’d thought of spending the rest of his life with. He’d tell her when they patched things up.

  “Enough stalling, Mac, did you have a fight with her?”

  He gave up. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a fight. I saw a side of her I hadn’t noticed before and had a knee-jerk response. I suppose it was inevitable.” He had no intention of telling Beachy about Graciella’s history with Marvin. Considering how long it had taken her to confide in him, no way would he further complicate things by violating her trust.

  “Side of her?”

  “She told me she didn’t like me spending the weekend with you. She doesn’t trust me.”

  “Heck, she probably doesn’t trust me. I told her I loved you. I’m not so sure any woman would want to hear that from a woman who’d slept with her boyfriend. Especially if she was in love with the guy. Try and see it from her viewpoint, Mac. Our situation—” She wagged her finger between them. “—is pretty unusual, you’ve got to admit.”

  “Yeah, but I told her the sex was over years ago and so did you. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. I said it wasn’t up to her to decide who I can have as friends. She hung up on me.” Graciella had to let go of her past. If she couldn’t trust him, they were doomed. He wouldn’t go ballistic if she had a close male friend. At least he was pretty sure he wouldn’t.

  “I take back what I said, Mac. You’re as clueless as most men. Face it; you’re so in love with that woman and her son, your thinking processes have been damaged. Why didn’t you call me and cancel? Would that have been so hard, macho guy?”

  “First I’m a girl and now I’m macho guy? Make up your mind, woman. Jeez. No wonder guys are so confused about the mysteries of the female brain. Are you going to sit there and tell me that if I’d called to cancel—if I’d told you Graciella didn’t want me to spend time with you—it would have been OK?”

  “I’d have been temporarily pissed, sure, but I’d get over it. Looking at it from her side, I’d be very wary of any woman who showed the slightest interest in you. Men like you are hard to come by, Mac, as hard as it is for me to admit.”

  “God Almighty, Mis. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” The smile on his face threatened to split his cheeks. Beachy was unique for sure. He pitied any man who took a serious interest in her but would be the first in line to congratulate him on getting past her armor.

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  “Not likely, since it took you over ten years to say so.” He leaned across the gap between them and planted a smooch on her cheek. “So I’m a catch?”

  She rubbed it off like a child who’d received an unwelcome kiss from a fat old uncle. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  He laughed and leaned back in the seat.

  She continued to needle him, “Are you going to call her?”

  “No, I’ll let her stew for a while. I’ll see her next Saturday at the park league baseball game. She’ll probably have cooled off by then.” He hoped so, because he wasn’t sure what his next step should be if she hadn’t.

  “Don’t mess up, Mac.”

  Quiet for several minutes, their conversation for the last half hour of the long drive centered on the dog trials. She’d enjoyed training the sniffer dogs, but was so intrigued at the Iron Dog Trials she said she might want to go into that line.

  “You’d have to quit your job with Customs if you did that. There go all your government benefits.”

  “Yeah. I need to give it a lot more thought. I’m not so sure I want to keep working for the government.” She turned down his street and pulled into his driveway, parked, and opened her door. “I’ll stretch for a few minutes before I head out.”

  “You should spend the night here.”

  She snorted. “And take the chance on her showing up? You’re even dumber than I thought.”

  He let her little insult pass. “How much farther are you planning on driving tonight? Don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter, deadheading all the way to Frisco.”

  “I’m only going as far as Santa Barbara. I made a reservation at a motel just off PCH for the night. I’ve stayed there before. A guy I once knew in Seattle owns it.”

  “A guy?” Cluny surprised himself with the question. Where she stayed and with whom was none of his business.

  “Yes, a guy. And his wife. She and I were in high school together. They’ve been married forever. Did I detect a hint of jealousy, Marine?” She faced him with her arms crossed.

  “More like concern.”

  “I can take care of myself, Mac.”

  “So you’ve made abundantly clear.” He reached inside for his bag. Queen bounded over the backseat and out of the Jeep. Setting the duffle on the ground, he embraced her. “Ease up, soldier. I’m allowed to be concerned about my friends. Give us a good-bye kiss.”

  Beachy sighed and rested her forehead in the center of his chest for a second then raised her face to his. “The squad didn’t call me Misty Bitchy for nothing.” She kissed him lightly on the lips and hugged him hard. “I’ll be seeing you, Mac.”

  “Love you, Mis.” He held her face in his hands and ran his thumbs over her lovely cheekbones, remembering their unique past, and how they’d saved each other over there.

  “Love you back. So long, Queenie. If you have to, give Mac a bite on the ass. He can be a stubborn SOB.”

  Cluny stood on his front porch watching the taillights of her car until they winked out of sight. He shook his head and put his key in the lock to open the door to his empty house.

  Graciella’s kitchen, same evening

  “I’ll do that.” Earl carried Graciella’s made-from-scratch Brazilian Coconut Cake with lighted candles to the table and placed it in front of Lillian. “You’ll blow coconut flakes all the way to the front door, but go ahead and make your birthday wish, Lil.”

  “Wait! We have to sing Happy Birthday to Grandma first.”

  Lillian covered her ears at the loud, off-tune chorus.

  “Come on, Mama. We have to hold hands when Grandma makes her wish.”

  Lillian stared at the candles, took a big breath, then blew them out.

  “What did you wish for, Grandma?”

  “I have to keep it secret or it might not come true,” Lillian said, “but I’ll give you a hint. It had to do with your mama and that fine-looking baseball coach of yours.”

  Graciella gripped the back of the chair. She’d been able to h
old it together for days now, but that happy comment from Marvin’s mother was all it took to undo her. “I’m sorry will you excuse me? Don’t wait for me, Lillian. Cut the cake. I’ll just be a minute.” She rushed from the room on shaky legs making a beeline to her bathroom. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. She made it to the toilet in the nick of time and then vomited up her supper. On her knees, she held hair away from her face. For a stark fearful moment, the possibility she might be pregnant clutched her belly. No, she told herself, that wasn’t possible. They’d always been careful. Heaving violently, she lowered her head close to the toilet bowl and threw up what little was left.

  “Graciella? Are you ill?” Lillian tapped on the bathroom door then cracked it open. “Oh, dear, you are aren’t you?” She took a cloth from the stack on the shelf and wrung it out in cold water then pressed it to Graciella’s forehead.

  “I’m sorry to spoil your party, Lillian.”

  “Don’t be silly, dear.” She laid her palm to her daughter-in-law’s cheek. “You don’t seem feverish. Did this come on suddenly, or have you been poorly before tonight?”

  Graciella shook her head. “I was a little queasy at the park yesterday afternoon. I probably got too much sun. It’s been blazing hot all week.” That was it. Too much sun. “I’m OK, Lillian. Just give me a couple of minutes to splash water on my face. Does everyone else feel OK?”

  “We’re fine, honey. I’ll go on out and let the boys know you’re all right. Take your time.”

  The nausea passed as quickly as it had come. Graciella washed her face. She pinned her hair back on the sides, smoothed her blouse, and returned to the table. Earl held her chair and squeezed her shoulders as she sat down.

  She stared at the small slice of cake on the plate in front of her, suddenly famished. Lifting her fork, she smiled across the table at Santos and took a small bite. “Mmm, one of my best.”