Broken Road

by Mari Beck

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Chapter One - Run

  Chapter Two - The News

  Chapter Three - Airport

  Chapter Four - Funeral

  Chapter Five - The Affair

  Chapter Six - Rumors

  Chapter Seven - The Interview

  Chapter Eight - Running Away

  Chapter Nine - Hero's Welcome

  Chapter Ten - Different

  Chapter Eleven - The Box in the Road

  Chapter Twelve - Betrayed

  Chapter Thirteen - The Fight

  Chapter Fourteen - The Break Up

  Chapter Fifteen - Not Worth Living

  Chapter Sixteen - Psychiatric Hospital

  Chapter Seventeen - The Farmhouse

  Chapter Eighteen - Veteran's Group

  Chapter Nineteen - The Letter

  Chapter Twenty - The Favor

  Chapter Twenty-One - Going Home

  Chapter Twenty-Two - The Café

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Finding The Soldier

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Coming Back

  Chapter Twenty-Five - The House

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Houseguest

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Cemetery

  Chapter Twenty-Eight - Farmhouse

  Chapter Twenty-Nine - Working Farm

  Chapter Thirty - Video Chat

  Chapter Thirty-One - Diner Gossip

  Chapter Thirty-Two - The Ride Home

  Chapter Thirty-Three - The Question

  Chapter Thirty-Four - The Answer

  Chapter Thirty-Five - The Fallout

  Chapter Thirty-Six - The New Normal

  Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Community Dinner

  Chapter Thirty-Eight - The News

  Chapter Thirty-Nine - The Wedding

  Chapter Forty - The Roadtrip

  Chapter Forty-One - Cotton Eyed Joe

  Chapter Forty-Two - Nightmare

  Chapter Forty-Three - Escape

  Chapter Forty-Four - Gone

  Chapter Forty-Five - The Barn

  Chapter Forty-Six - The Hospital

  Chapter Forty-Seven - The VA

  Chapter Forty-Eight - The Discovery

  Chapter Forty-Nine - The Reporter's Deal

  Chapter Fifty - Misty

  Chapter Fifty-One - Going Home

  Chapter Fifty-Two - Christmas Lights

  Chapter Fifty-Three - The Boys

  Chapter Fifty-Four - The Mistake

  Chapter Fifty-Five - A Father's Son

  Chapter Fifty-Six - Another Interview

  Chapter Fifty-Seven - Lovers & Lies

  Chapter Fifty-Eight - Reporter's Surprise

  Chapter Fifty-Nine - Husbands & Wives

  Chapter Sixty - The Truth

  Chapter Sixty-One - The Children

  Chapter Sixty-Two - The Distraction

  Chapter Sixty-Three - The Split-Second

  Chapter Sixty-Four - The Blame

  Chapter Sixty-Five - The Visitor

  Chapter Sixty-Six - Consequences

  Chapter Sixty-Seven - Honor

  Chapter Sixty-Eight - Hope

  To all service men, women & their families, past and present.

  You are cherished and never forgotten.

  Copyright © 2015 MARI BECK

  All rights reserved.

  maribeckauthor@gmail.com

  Facebook.com/MariBeckAuthor

  Cover by: SelfPubBookCovers.com/CherylCCR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Run

  Shane is coming home today.

  There were so many things Brenda Jenner still had to do and so many things that ran the risk of being left undone. As she ran the rain fell harder and she got wetter but she didn’t stop. She reviewed the list in her head for the hundredth time and checked off each item mentally. She had to set out clothes for the boys. Check. She had to remember to pick up her own dress from the cleaners. Check. She had to call Mark. Check. She had to be at the airport no later than ten. Check. She ran a little faster as the rain pelted her. She hadn’t initially meant to go this far from home. The plan had been that she would just keep going until it was time to turn back. She reached that point about an hour ago. It usually gave her such a feeling of peace anytime she took this route. The paths were well maintained on this part of town and managed to blend seamlessly with the rest of the neighborhoods and parks through which they cut but today she didn’t connect with it. She started running again when Shane first left on his second tour in an effort to clear her head and relieve stress. She should be thrilled that during the time Shane had been gone she’d lost almost 20 pounds running and worrying. She was almost back to her old size. The size she had been before having the boys. The size she had been when she had first met Shane. Brenda Jenner, like her clothes, could be described as simple, sensible and perhaps stylish. She had never let herself get “dumpy” but she certainly hadn’t kept up with the fashion divas that invaded the one or two volunteer organizations to which she gave her very limited time around town. Simple rules governed her life as well as her closet. Comfort was paramount, which is why she avoided heels, but not prevalent, which is why she only wore sweats when she exercised or ran. She invested in solid colors and never got too carried away with prints or trends. She preferred the dependable to the spontaneous. At 5’7 she was sturdy but not quite lean enough to have an athletic build. It wasn’t that she was completely comfortable with how she looked but that there were just too many other things to think about, especially now. Too many things, she thought and ran a little faster. Not enough time to figure it all out. Too much and not enough, that’s what her life was full of these days. She felt it more and more. She felt it especially the day she went shopping for the dress she was going to wear for Shane’s homecoming. She had driven almost 100 miles from home to find it. It was important that she find just the right one. But instead of feeling the euphoria that comes with finally losing those extra pounds and fitting into the perfect outfit she felt a certain disdain for the somewhat attractive and trim woman that looked back at her from the mirror. Something was wrong or should be, but she couldn’t see it. It wasn’t obvious. She frowned. She had the same shoulder-length blonde hair, cut into attractive layers and wisps around her face. Her face had matured a little and maybe filled out in new places over the years but not in an unattractive way, she thought. Her eyes were framed by well-groomed brows with a slight arch that didn’t reflect that utter look of surprise some women unknowingly achieved by waxing just a little too much. Her eyes were still the same delicate shade of hazel with a spattering of golden flecks and though her cheeks lacked a little bit of color, she didn’t look overly pale. There was a natural look about her, one of health and restfulness. She blinked. She looked, for the lack of a better word, good. That’s what Shane would say. She looked good. Not pretty, not beautiful, but good. She frowned again. She shouldn’t, she thought. Something should reflect on the outside how it was on the inside, but it didn’t. She was annoyed and saddened. The sudden knock on the door to the dressing room had startled her and the sales lady had asked if she could get the dress she was trying on in a different size. No, she had answered. The size was perfect. She stared at herself in the mirror, but what about the color the sales lady had asked? She offered it to Brenda in a nice bright red or a lovely yellow. They were the colors of the season and what woman wouldn’t want to be among the trendiest and most stylish in town? Brenda had politely refused and it wasn’t until the sales lady brought the dress back in the color she had originally requested that she finally saw it. There it was, the only clue to what was really happening inside. She smoothed down the skirt of the sensible black dress with her hands. It was exactly the right color she thought. At last the tears made their way down her face. I
t was the memory of that moment, the memory of trying on that dress that had caused her to fall. The stumble had brought her back to the present. She pulled herself up and noticed that she was covered in muddy water from head to toe. She started, unsuccessfully, to wipe some of it away when she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye and she froze. Her eyes were drawn involuntarily to the entrance to Memorial Park Cemetery. In the distance, through the gates that surrounded the entire park, she could see a glimpse of the green tent that signaled a burial would be held soon. She felt her throat constrict. The sight was enough to jar her and spur her forward. She took off running and stopped only when she made it back to the house but on the inside she knew she would keep on running and never stop.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The News

  He was killed one week before Memorial Day on a road outside of Baghdad. Shane’s dead. The words filled her mind to the extent that there wasn’t room for anything else.

  “The church doesn’t have enough room for everyone so this morning a publicist from the Governor’s office came in to see Father Pat. They're expecting 600 people for the funeral maybe more. The Governor is attending and the President is sending flowers. Can you believe it? The President! Anyway, the place is already crawling with publicists and tv cameras. The local station is broadcasting the funeral the day after tomorrow and the Mayor’s office has someone here that wants to talk to you about what’s going to happen.” Brenda was listening but didn’t really hear anything her brother Father Mark Sheffield was saying. Oddly enough, all she could think about was that she had hadn’t ordered enough deli trays for the family and friends they were expecting, let alone the 600 that might be coming to the funeral.

  “Brenda? Brenda, are you still there?”

  She knew she should be more grateful for his help. Aside from being her brother, Mark was also a priest. He had traveled from his own parish in a small community outside of Chicago to be with her. From the moment they found out that Shane was missing to the moment they were informed that he had been killed on that road outside of Baghdad, Mark had stepped in to handle everything she couldn’t. The Casualty Assistance Officer assigned to her family had worked with them to make sure that everything would be properly done and Mark had offered to work with the young officer so that she could focus on Shane’s homecoming. He assured her that he and Father Pat, her own parish priest, could handle everything else. Even so, she marveled at how he could separate his own feelings about the loss of his brother-in-law and best friend from his duties. Shane and Mark had been college roommates and it was through their friendship that Shane and Brenda met. Now, he insisted on helping with the rest of the arrangements and serving as a go-between herself the media and others, who wanted access to her and the boys. Every time she looked out her window and saw the media vans parked outside waiting for her to come out and make some sort of statement, she was glad that he was there to protect her from the circus of people and events to come.

  “I’m sorry, Mark."

  “You don't have to be sorry. There's nothing to worry about. Captain Meyer is really in charge of it all and he’s working with the Mayor's office to take care of everything. They're arranging a public memorial service at the YMCA across from the cemetery. That will take care of the overflow from the funeral. They’ll broadcast it live and stream it for anyone not able to find a seat in the church. They should have enough room. You don’t have to worry about a thing.” He paused for a moment and his voice softened.

  “As for the music we have it covered. I’ll make sure Father Pat gets the message.” Mark paused and let the silence fill the moment before he continued. “The funeral home will be sending a car around 8:30 okay?”

  “Okay.” She replied.

  “Are you sure you still want to go to the airport?”

  Brenda braced herself against the tears she knew were coming.

  “Yes.” She said in a barely audible voice and the tears fell anyway. She wiped them away. “I have to go, Mark. I always go to the airport. I’m always there to meet him. Tonight's not any different.” She said and wiped away another tear.

  “Are the boys going?”

  “Callan wants to go but I'm not sure about Taylor. He's so young and the plane gets in after 10. It'll be late.” Brenda answered and reached for a tissue.

  “We'll all go. I love you, Brenda. It’s going to be okay.” Mark reassured her. She held back the sobs she felt waiting to explode from her.

  “I have to go. Taylor's calling for me.” She lied.

  "Okay. I'll see you later."

  “All right.” she quickly hung up the phone and decided to give herself five minutes to fall apart. Five whole minutes to mourn the man she loved and would be burying in 24 hours or so. Her mother had the boys eating some lunch downstairs in the kitchen. She was grateful for her presence and her help. Since they received the awful news there had been little time to think about anything but the funeral preparations, the dozens of calls from friends, family and the media. Exhausted, she wiped her eyes again and lay down on the bed she had shared with Shane in what seemed now to be another life. As she lay down, her eyes fell on the frame holding her favorite picture of Shane. She kept it next to her side of the bed. In it he was sitting on a beat up camping chair, dressed in an old college t-shirt and shorts, looking straight into the camera with the most peaceful smile she had ever seen grace his face. She had taken the picture during their very last camping trip before he had been deployed. She reached out to touch the glass frame. It was a genuine smile. After the difficulties of the past few years, he seemed content, even happy, and in that moment it managed to capture the very essence of the man, who from the moment she met him, exuded confidence and dependability. The camping trip had always been an annual thing for them as a family. It was true that Brenda was not a fan of camping but the boys loved it and Shane looked forward to it like a kid at Christmas. She figured it reminded him of the little Nebraska town where he had spent countless summers with his grandparents. When she first met him during a visit to see her brother Mark away at college, she thought his small town farm boy act was something he’d cooked up to get her attention. He struck her as much older than most of the other students she’d seen walking around campus. He was tall, towering over her, when he stood up to make room for her in the restaurant booth where the three of them were eating. He was definitely lean but muscular, his dark brown hair was cut military style and he had a faint scar below his left eye. His eyes were a dark brown and when he put out a hand to greet her when she first arrived he gave her a smile that turned up on one side revealing a deep but attractive dimple. Conversation was easy with Shane and they found themselves talking about classes they loved, hated or wanted to take, campus life and life in general. During the meal Shane talked about his grandparent’s farm like it was heaven on earth and small town living like it was something she had to try if she was ever going to know what real living was. She remembered laughing at him and his descriptions of feeding cattle and mucking stalls, riding tractors and detasseling corn. Didn’t it sound like fun, he had asked her while she rolled her eyes and shook her head with an emphatic no. After all, she told him, she would soon be a serious freshman on a full scholarship and unlike her brother or his friend she had no interest in living it up in the dorms, wasting time with dating or living anywhere near a farm. She wanted to travel the world, do meaningful work and live as far away from the Midwest as possible. He told her that he had plans to become an officer in the United States Army and was close to finishing his degree. He’d always been good with numbers, sports and taking orders- especially from pretty girls. He winked at her and flashed her that endearing crooked smile with the dimple. She remembered how Mark elbowed him so hard in the ribs that he actually cried out in pain and how she pretended not to notice. It had been apparent then that Mark seemed to know exactly what his friend was doing; he must have seen him do it a hundred times before, but this time it was his little sister on t
he receiving end and he didn’t like it one bit. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop Shane from talking to her as if Mark wasn’t even sitting there. He planned to take it all the way, he said, which meant going wherever the Army sent him after graduation, becoming an officer and eventually retiring back in that little town that had everything he wanted. Like the cows, the tractors and the corn tassels? She remembered how he burst out laughing when she said it. He smiled at her again and she couldn’t help but find him attractive and somewhat charming. Sure, Shane agreed with her, it had everything he wanted except for one thing. That’s when she rolled her eyes at Mark and took a sip of her watered down soft drink. He grimaced sympathetically as if to say he was sorry about the whole thing. She knew what was coming. Shane would say that the only thing missing was a pretty girl like her to give him orders. She waited for him to say it. Instead, he paused a moment before saying that the only thing missing would be the grandparents, who had lived in that little town and who had passed away when he was a kid. She didn’t know what to say after that. She looked at Mark, who looked back at her and shrugged. He seemed dumbstruck. She guessed that this wasn’t usually how the line went. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Shane finished up his beer, took out some money to cover the bill, thanked them both for a nice time and told Mark he had to get back to the dorms. He gave Mark a friendly pat on the back and shook her hand saying he hoped they might run into each other again when she finally got to campus. She nodded and then he was gone. They didn’t see each other again until one night when Shane and Mark stepped into her own campus coffee shop looking for her as part of an impromptu visit hundreds of miles from their school. Her roommate had told them where to find her and even though she had studying of her own to do she couldn’t help feeling nervous and excited when she saw Shane. She waved them over and fell once more into easy conversation with him again while her brother Mark kept to himself. She didn’t realize how late it was and stood up to leave when Shane offered to walk her back to the dorm and much to Mark’s surprise she said yes. On the way back to her room they didn’t talk much until Shane broke the silence and asked if she would consider going out with him. It took her much less time than she would have wanted to say yes. She didn’t want to look too eager especially after all she had told him about not wanting to date anyone. But at that moment she didn’t really care. He was fun, attractive, studious, goal oriented, and interested in her. The details and the distance seemed inconsequential. That was the beginning. The beginning of a friendship, a relationship, and eventually a life together that ended abruptly on a road outside of Baghdad. Her head was pounding from all the thoughts, all the memories. The one thing she took comfort in was the fact that he loved Callan and Taylor. That’s why he lived for the times when he could take the boys fishing and riding on their bikes. During that final camping trip they explored every inch of the campgrounds, ate every s’more, sang every silly fire camp song they could remember and had the time of their lives. The last trip hadn’t seemed any different except that it really was. It was the little things she noticed then that made it all the more special now. She remembered the way Shane held Taylor on his lap and whispered silly secret things into to his ear as they roasted marshmallows over the campfire. She could still hear Taylor’s giggles filling the hot, humid night air. She could still hear the serious conversation Shane had with Callan about earning his Eagle Badge for Scouts. He regretted, she knew, the fact that his deployment meant Cal would be working on it alone maybe with some help from his mother. Shane was right, Callan was disappointed because they’d spent almost a year planning the project that father and son felt would guarantee Cal the Eagle Badge. She had been privy to some of the information but on a very limited basis. Now, almost a year and a half later, Cal’s project had come to a standstill. What were they going to do about it? She willed herself to remember but her mind was filled with the image of Shane looking out at her with that peaceful smile plastered all over his face that she couldn’t think straight. God, she needed to fill her mind with that image, she thought so she could fight off the ones that were still coming. In a few short hours they would go to the airport to meet the plane carrying Shane home and talk with Earl Hanley the assistant funeral director over at Memorial Park about the arrangements. She looked out the window of their bedroom and watched the wind sway the branches on the old oak outside. How many times had they laid there together watching the birds land, the wind move through the leaves, the frost drip off the branches and the seasons go by? Not enough, she thought. Her cell phone rang and she hesitated, closed her eyes and willed it to stop. It kept ringing. She reached for it.