Acceptance, The

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Acceptance, The Page 3

by Bernadette Marie


  Darcy stepped back and looked at him. “We have time. We have all the time in the world to get to know each other.”

  “You didn’t deserve this from me. I shouldn’t have left.”

  “You needed to do what was in your heart to make it all okay. But you standing here in my house makes me think that perhaps you’ve made amends with it all.”

  “I think I have.”

  The house seemed smaller with so many people there. The dining room table had been extended and two more card tables added. His grandmother and grandfather sat where they had all the years he’d grown up eating family dinners there.

  Though they’d asked about what he’d done while he wasn’t in Nashville, they didn’t focus on him the entire time and that made him more comfortable. He supposed in time they’d all corner him and ask him about his years away. But for now he was just happy to be surrounded by them.

  Uncle John passed the basket of rolls to Tyler. “Do you need a place?” he asked.

  “I guess I do. I have a room reserved at a hotel for tonight…”

  “You what?” His mother’s voice broke as she questioned his plans. “You never have to do that when you’re in town. For the night or permanently.”

  His father rested his hand over his mother’s.

  “I know, Mom,” he said softly. “This was hard. I needed a night to think.”

  Spencer laughed. “You needed a night to think and you came here?”

  Tyler swallowed hard. “Well, I’d forgotten about dinner on Sundays. I came directly here to see Darcy.”

  Darcy pursed her lips and batted her moist eyes. “You know, Tyler, I have some wine chilling in the refrigerator out back in the garage. Why don’t you go with me and we’ll bring it in.”

  She stood from the table as everyone watched. Then, their eyes turned toward him. He stood and followed her to the kitchen and out the back door.

  When he reached her she was on the back step taking a deep breath of the air he’d missed so much. She didn’t turn to him.

  “Why did you come here first?” she asked.

  “You’re my sister and I forgot to embrace what a wonderful thing that is.”

  She turned now, her eyes shimmering from lingering tears in the low light of dusk. “You’re okay with that now?”

  Tyler nodded. “What my mother—our mother—went through was horrible. She did what she did to protect you. She didn’t say anything to the rest of us to do the same.”

  Darcy reached out a hand to him and he took it. “I love you and Spencer. When I fell in love with Ed, I thought I’d never need to find my birth mother. I thought that my entire life had become whole when I landed in this family. And to find out I belonged,” she sighed. “You can’t imagine what that did for me.”

  “You do belong.”

  “And so do you. It hurt when you left. It hurt Regan and Zach. Spencer has been lost…”

  “And you?”

  She batted her eyes quickly. “It hurt, Tyler. You hurt me by leaving.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You had to do it. I get it. But I felt as though just as I was finding my family I cost you yours. That’s a heavy burden to have carried for these past few years.”

  Tyler pulled Darcy into his arms and held her against him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ll never do it again.” He pulled her back at arm’s length and looked her in the eyes. “I came here first because I knew my mother and father would forgive me. I needed to make sure you would.”

  She dropped her shoulders. “Tyler, there was nothing to forgive.” Darcy pulled him back to her and held him tight. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

  “So am I,” he said as his phone vibrated in his pocket and Darcy jumped back laughing.

  “Word is out, huh? Everyone is looking for you now?”

  He looked at the screen and smiled. “This is a woman I met on the plane.”

  Darcy laughed as she walked toward the detached garage and he followed. “You’re picking up women?”

  “She was escorting her brother home. His final trip home,” he said softly.

  Darcy turned. “He was…”

  “A soldier. Killed in combat.”

  Darcy covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, Tyler…”

  “She’s something too. Her name is Courtney. You’d like her.”

  She watched him carefully and then dropped her hands. “You like this woman.”

  “I do.” He looked down at his phone. “She just texted me the information for his funeral.”

  “Are you going to go?” She began walking again with him following.

  “I don’t know. I just met her. Isn’t that a little…”

  “Wonderful.” She pushed open the door. “Tyler, she’s asking you to be there. That means she needs your comfort.”

  That did something funny to his heart rate. “You think I should go?”

  “I do,” she said as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of wine. “I’d be happy to go with you if you’d like.”

  Tyler slid his phone back into his pocket and took the bottles from her. “No, but thank you. I’ll sleep on it and then decide.”

  “You’d better sleep on it at Regan’s. If you sleep in a hotel tonight, she might banish you for good.”

  He knew that was truth enough.

  As they walked back to the house he thought of Courtney. He and Darcy seemed to have mended their very brief but important relationship. Courtney had lost that relationship when her brother died.

  She’d asked for him—reached out to him.

  He couldn’t let her down.

  Besides, he really wanted to see her again.

  Chapter Four

  A night in his old bedroom was just what he’d needed to mend his soul. A few more nights and he might just be perfect.

  But his uncle and aunt still had the house they rented that he’d once lived in with Christian and Clara. It was available again and as much his home as his parents’ house. He’d borrow one of his dad’s SUV’s and go by his uncle’s tomorrow and pick up the key. He’d give a few more thoughts to attending the funeral. Then he’d go buy a suit, because he already knew he was going.

  Tyler’s uncle, who was retired and looked for any excuse to have something to do, met him at the rental property the next morning.

  “I gave it a new coat of paint last summer. The sprinkler is on and the lawn mower is in the garage. With you here, you’re in charge of that,” he said as he pushed open the front door.

  Memories flooded his head as he thought of the last time he’d stood in that doorway. He’d walked right out of it. Taken his truck loaded down with things and he left.

  He’d tried to prepare everyone for his departure, but he hadn’t. Telling a cousin or two wasn’t really getting the news out. Only telling his brother where he was and swearing him to secrecy was uncalled for. You didn’t run in this family.

  “Now I knew you’d want to stay here.” His uncle turned and looked at him. “You do want to stay here, right?”

  Tyler laughed. “Yes.”

  “Okay, good. I set up a bed in the bedroom and filled the fridge with food. I put beer in there too. Do you drink beer?”

  That gave his heart a little squeeze. “I do.”

  “Beer is good when you’ve put in a hard day or need a minute to think.”

  Tyler was going to need a few of those—minutes to think.

  His Uncle John handed him the key. “It’s good to have you home. Everything feels right again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Where’s your truck?”

  Tyler bit down on his lip. “I sold it a few years ago. I was working on an offshore oil rig. Didn’t need it.”

  “You? On an oil rig?”

  Tyler nodded. “A Pierpont Oil rig.”

  John laughed when Tyler mentioned it. No one had talked much of his Aunt Simone’s family since she’d moved to the States.

  “No kidding. Does Sim
one or Avery know that?”

  Tyler shook his head. “No. I was just a guy on the rig.”

  John nodded as if he understood. Then he gave his shoulder a pat. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of company.”

  He smiled and let himself out the front door leaving Tyler there taking it all in.

  Tyler woke in the bed his uncle had set up for him. He’d awakened to birds outside his window in a house he now called home. Home. It was good to think about that.

  There was coffee in the kitchen, but it wasn’t going to make itself. Of course, the way his family worked, someone would probably stop by to check on him. If he stayed in bed just long enough maybe the coffee would be made and brought to him. He chuckled to himself and opened his eyes.

  As his eyes focused, he sat up and looked around. Hanging on the bedroom door was the suit Clara had helped him pick out the day before.

  His heart ached. Courtney would say goodbye to her brother today. Tyler had only said goodbye to his family for a few years—this was forever.

  Planting his feet on the floor he gave his face a rub. There wouldn’t be enough time to get a razor. How come he hadn’t thought of getting one when Avery took him grocery shopping or Clara took him clothes shopping? They hadn’t even mentioned his stubble and that surprised him. But honestly, would Courtney care that he had a three day beard?

  She hadn’t texted him again. Maybe she’d had a change of heart. Maybe he shouldn’t go.

  No, on that plane he’d told her he’d be there for her if she ever needed him. Damn it, he was keeping his word.

  Tyler parked nearly four blocks away from the church. Downtown on a Wednesday morning was bad enough. Add to it that he could already see the crowd flowing into the church. Courtney Field’s brother was a very important man.

  As he entered the church he saw her. Already seated between her mother and father in the front pew, she didn’t wear black. That struck him as odd. She wore a bright yellow dress and she stood out like sunshine in the sea of darkness.

  He followed the stream of people into their seats. The pew in which he sat was a mere four from the back. Courtney would never know he was even there among those who came to mourn one Lance Corporal Gerald Fitzsimmons Field.

  The casket of the honored Marine was draped with a flag. His picture was prominently displayed next to the casket and an enormous floral wreath encircled it. Uniformed Marines stood off to both sides as if to still stand beside the Marine they had lost.

  Tyler looked down at the card they had given him as he’d walked in. Lance Corporal Gerald Fitzsimmons Field, aka Fitz, was a mere twenty years and nine months old. He swallowed hard. He wasn’t much older at twenty four. They’d both seen the world in different ways. Tyler’s heart ached for what the young man might have seen in his twenty years and nine months.

  Tyler’s three year pity party was beginning to gnaw away at his gut. As the funeral started and the minister began to talk about Fitz, Tyler felt three years solidify into a lead ball and drop into the pit of his stomach.

  Unselfishly, the man they were honoring graduated high school and joined the Marines. He fought for his country. He aided those in need. He died.

  Tyler had been given a sister to love and he’d run. His mother had to have gone through unspeakable battery for her to have given up a child she’d wanted. Tyler knew what kind of mother she was. She was attentive and kind. She was loving and strict with the discipline and it only made him and Spencer better people. And yet he’d abandoned her to gather his own feelings over it.

  Darcy had gone on a quest to find her birth family. She’d had a good upbringing, but she needed more. She got Tyler with that bargain and he turned from her.

  Tyler watched as Courtney’s shoulders moved up and down. Sobbing, he thought. Loss was a force you couldn’t fight. It didn’t give back what it took. He’d never had loss like that.

  When the funeral concluded the uniformed Marines moved to the pews and let each one empty and move to the family. Tyler thought it would be best to just sneak out. He’d text her later and tell her he was there. Give details so she’d know he was telling her the truth. Maybe in a week or so they could have coffee.

  He’d contemplated too long. The Marine was at his pew and those around him began to file into the line to console the family.

  Unlike his brother who could handle awkward situations with ease—which was why he’d be better at running their father’s company—Tyler’s nerves kicked up even more. He wiped his palms on his pant legs as he rounded that first pew and was within feet of Courtney and her parents.

  There was a constriction in his chest as Courtney’s mother looked at him with red rimmed eyes and a weak smile.

  “Mrs. Field I’m…”

  “Tyler.” Courtney turned toward him and her cheeks lifted as her lips curled. “You came.”

  “I did,” he said, his voice teetering on amusement and shock that she could pick him out of that many people by his voice and he’d only said three words.

  Courtney took her mother’s arm. “Mom, this is the man I told you about. The one I flew to Nashville with. Tyler, this is my mother Mary.”

  “Tyler, it’s very nice to meet you.” Mary held her hand out to him.

  “Likewise.” He shook her hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “Tyler,” Courtney reached for his hand and he offered it. “This is my father Michael.”

  He was dressed in Military dress as well. That was something Tyler hadn’t expected. Tyler didn’t know rankings or what bars and pins meant, but Michael Field had plenty of them.

  Tyler held his hand out to shake her father’s. As expected, her father’s grip was firm as he looked down at Tyler, who himself stood at six-foot-three.

  “Sir, it is nice to meet you. I’m very sorry about the loss of your son.”

  “Tyler.” He repeated his name. This was something Tyler had learned from his father. It gave him some authority and helped in remembering the name. “My family appreciates you coming. Courtney says you were a great support to her in a very dark time.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Courtney reached for him again and pulled him back to her so that she could whisper in his ear. “There is a reception after internment. It’s at our home. I’d like you to come.”

  Tyler patted her hand. “Should I find you at the cemetery?”

  Courtney nodded. “I’ll have my mother watch for you.”

  Mary nodded as well and Tyler leaned in to Courtney and kissed her cheek. “I’ll find you.”

  Courtney’s mother took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “You were right. He is cute,” she whispered to Courtney.

  “I’m glad he came. I hope it’s okay I invited him to the house.”

  “Of course it is.” Mary turned and Courtney knew another wave of people were there, saying the same thing: I’m sorry for your loss. He was such a great man. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.

  Tyler had come through for her. She felt warm. It was the first time she’d felt that warmth since she disembarked that plane.

  Tyler Benson was good people. She appreciated that.

  Courtney stood by her parents’ sides for at least another twenty minutes before they followed her brother’s casket out to the waiting hearse. She could smell the sprays of flowers which her mother had meticulously explained to her in detail—mostly to keep herself calm, she knew.

  There were whispers she could hear around the church. He was too young. It’s so sad. What will they do? And always there was the, It looks like Courtney’s doing well with her disability.

  Those were the only times she wished she had her sight so she could look right at that person and give them a what for.

  Disability her ass. Did they smell the flowers? Did they all know they shook her hand differently and a million things were said in that touch? Did they know she
knew their voices? Each voice had a tone and likewise an underlying tone. Oh, her disability had her seeing things sighted people never would see. And one of those things she saw was that Tyler Benson had been one of the most genuine people at that funeral. Thank God he came.

  When she’d sent the text, she wasn’t sure he would come. He’d never replied and she’d finally decided the number was wrong or he just wasn’t as interested as she thought he’d been.

  She got that. After all she’d been without her sight for nearly eighteen years. That was a lot of time to learn about people. Though she was still learning, she felt as though she had quite a grasp on it.

  Courtney stood with her mother and father as they loaded her brother’s casket into the hearse. She felt her father’s body stiffen as she held his arm. She assumed he had cried in private. Who wouldn’t when your son died? Especially when Fitz died. But as her mother sobbed to her side she knew her father was at attention saluting his son.

  The air was changing. She could feel it. The rain would hold off until her brother was buried and his mourners had gone on. The rain would be soft and it wouldn’t last long. It would be as if the world cried for him—her—them.

  Her father’s arm folded for her to take his elbow and they began to walk. The cars had started their engines and she could feel the heat that produced on her legs.

  They stopped and she could feel another person with them. As her father said, “Thank you,” she knew it was the driver who had opened their door.

  Her mother moved to the car first.

  “The car is right at the curb. You won’t need to step off. About four steps ahead.”

  Courtney gave him a nod and he placed her hand on the door of the car. She guided herself toward the opening and slowly moved until her foot was in the car and she could lower down to the seat.

  Again, she was lodged between her stiff father and her sobbing mother. Another hour and she could be with Tyler, she thought. She could use some friendly conversation.

  Her father moved on the seat next to her. This meant he was going to turn to her and talk to her. She was more than familiar with his precise body language.

 

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