by Jenni Moen
When I was lucky enough to catch some sleep, clothes were out of the question. They were too restrictive, twisting and tightening around me with every toss and turn. Even when I fell asleep in my boxers, I almost always woke up naked. Apparently, even my subconscious hated underwear.
Jimmy announced the guest band, and the audience cheered as I walked to the fridge. I’d had two glasses of wine at dinner with Willow. One more beer and I would be out like a light. For the whole night, I hoped.
I climbed back into bed and Fallon’s guest band began their set. One chord and the room flashed brighter than the Afghan sun.
This summer’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker.
I wasn’t fond of the band, but that particular song had become something of a mantra for us. The boys had sung it at the top of their lungs as we approached the gate. My usual team of Sgt. Derrick Matheny, Cpl. Mark McGraw, Pfc. Donald Jamison was with me, and Pfc. Grant Oliver was driving. Their off-tune voices died off one at a time as we left the safe zone of the wire.
We were the third position in the three-vehicle convoy of thick-skinned vehicles, traveling together on a mission that would have us back well before sunup. No one wanted to miss the celebration the next day. There wouldn’t be a cookout or a parade or even the ice-cold chest of beer I dreamed about, but there would be pizza. Real pizza. Or the closest thing to it. The Fourth of July was a reason for excitement no matter what continent you were on.
The heavy vehicle hit a bump, jostling me into Matheny, who didn’t even notice. I was on edge and didn’t know why. There wasn’t anything unusual about what we were doing today. It was a typical operation. Get in, grab the target, and get out. I replayed our directive over in my head as we traveled to our destination.
“Do you think a puppy is an acceptable alternative? Could buy me a few more months.” Matheny finally broke the silence. He was thinking about his wife. I didn’t know for sure, but I imagined it was hard not to at times like this.
I couldn’t see his eyes through his dusty goggles to determine if he was serious, but I knew he wasn’t. I’d been side-by-side with this man for almost three years and knew him better than he knew himself. It was all posturing. He was going home in a few weeks, for good this time. Arguing about his future was his way of planning for it. “No,” I answered. “She wants a baby. Get her a puppy and you’ll have a puppy and a baby. Nobody wants that.” I’d seen pictures of his wife. He’d shoved them in my face nearly every day during his first six months in Afghanistan.
“Maybe if I just show up with it,” he grumbled.
“Or maybe you use that dick of yours for more than a hand warmer,” Grant said from across the truck. He was a cocky bastard who always had something to say. But when we needed it, like now, the comedic relief was appreciated.
“He has a –”
A thunderous roar ripped through the vehicle, tossing us into the air. I had the vague sense of being upside down and then it was roll after roll before the lights went out.
My eyes shot open as another blast rocked through the upturned MRAP. Had I been unconscious? If so, it couldn’t have been for more than a few minutes. Comprehension hit me full on, and I was instantly juiced.
We were on fire and under fire.
Something exploded in the distance. Based on the rumble and quake of the vehicle, it should have been louder than it was, but nothing could compete with the ringing in my ears. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. Even through my goggles, there was too much smoke to make out more than vague outlines. I reached my arms out to hunt for Matheny, aware I was happy to find them still attached to my body.
Crawling on my knees, I hit something. “Dearborn, is that you?” Matheny sounded as if he was talking through a tin can, but the sound of my best friend hit me in the chest.
“Yeah, man. Can you walk?” I shouted, assuming he couldn’t hear well either.
“I don’t think so.”
Another flash of light revealed a hole in the side of the armored wall of the vehicle. It was probably my best, if not only, exit strategy at this point. I hoisted Derrick onto my back and pulled us to the opening. There was the pop of gunfire and another explosion in the distance, and we both went facedown into the dirt.
I popped up on my knees again and looked down at my chest, halfway expecting to see it torn open. I was covered with blood, but it wasn’t my own. Everything on me hurt, but nothing hurt enough to account for the amount of blood I saw.
Had I lost more time? I wasn’t sure.
Nothing around me looked as I expected, but what I assumed was enemy gunfire got me moving anyway. There was cover off to the side of the road. My feet flew over the ground, and I couldn’t believe how weightless I felt, considering the load on my back. Where were all of the rocks? Dried dusty leaves crunched under my feet.
“Derrick? Derrick?” He didn’t answer, but I couldn’t hear anything anyway. “Hang in there, my man,” I said, hoping the message was received.
I stopped as soon as the brush line hid us. “I’m going back for the others,” I said, rolling him off my back and into the brush. I patted his face, but he didn’t answer. His eyes stared back at me blankly, and I knew it was too late. I didn’t understand. He’d been right there with me a second ago. I was sure of it. My eyes traveled down his body and stopped where the bottom half of him should have been.
My best friend was gone. I looked up at the moon, and rain pelted me in the face. When had it started raining? It hadn’t been raining when we loaded up. Had it been raining when we crawled out of the MRAP? I couldn’t remember, but there was always about a fifty percent chance of rain at this time of year. I’d never hated Afghanistan more.
Lightning cracked again, followed by a boom of thunder off in the distance. When I looked back down at Derrick, he was gone—not half of him, but all of him—and the ground under my feet wasn’t Afghan ground. Relief surged through me though it was immediately chased by a healthy dose of debilitating guilt and then confusion.
I sunk to my knees. My bare skin seemed unnaturally bright against the maple leaves and pine needles covering the ground. I looked up to the sky, thankful for the rain and clouds obscuring the moon and any light it might have cast over the forest.
None of this made sense. I covered my face with my hands and wondered why this kept happening, when it would stop, and which way was home.
WILLOW
WITHOUT TURNING ON THE LIGHT, I found a glass in the cabinet and filled it with water. A flash of lightning momentarily illuminated the kitchen. That and the rolling grumble of thunder outside pulled me to the window.
I expected the windows over the garage to be dark at this hour. Only the certifiably insane were up at 4:00 AM on a Friday, but Quinn’s uncovered windows glowed and flickered, making me wonder if maybe the television was on. More than once, he’d mentioned he didn’t sleep well.
Oh, Quinn, you are such a puzzle. My heart flickered and sparked with the lightning outside.
Gaston jumped onto the counter, and I turned on the water for him. Weird cat that he was, he liked to drink directly from the faucet. When he was done, I turned it off again and absentmindedly scratched the top of his head. “You like that don’t you, old boy?” I asked.
He purred his answer and watched out the window in quiet consternation.
We stood together at the sink enjoying the early morning together as we did most days. In a few minutes, I would have to get dressed, load my car with the two pots of chicken and dumplings that were today’s lunch special, and make the fifty-yard drive to the diner. Any other day I’d simply load my little red wagon and drag it over there, but today, the rain was coming down in sheets.
Gaston hissed suddenly at the window, and I leaned forward to peer out with him. Even through the pouring rain, I could see something move in the brush beyond the creek at the edge of the property. I leaned forward to get a better look.
The land on the other side was mostly undeveloped. It wasn’t unusual to look
out my window and see a fox or a bobcat or even a family of deer wander over from the national park. Once or twice, I’d even had brown bears rooting through my trashcans. Of course, I’d teased Ryan, but he swore he didn’t need my scraps.
Another flash of lightning lit up the yard, and nausea hit me like a freight train. I closed my eyes and tried to fight it off, but it was too much. There was too much darkness. Blue and black and every shade of dismal gray threatened to grab me and pull me into a pit I hadn’t seen since Janice had died. Tears of grief welled in my eyes, but they weren’t my tears.
Quinn.
There was a shift of movement in the darkness, and Quinn bolted across the creek. My heart skidded to a stop. My breathing went ragged, and my foggy early morning brain jolted awake. I gripped the edge of the counter so I could stay upright. My stomach roiled and twisted, but I couldn’t look away. Even through the haze of despair separating us, Quinn was a beautiful sight.
The man wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. His bare-naked skin practically glowed against the black landscape.
It wasn’t something I hadn’t seen before. Men frequently ran naked through the woods around Woodland Creek. Two-natureds were common in the area; it was bound to happen from time to time if you knew when and where to look. Most planned ahead though and left a pile or bag of clothes hidden out in the woods to avoid being caught. It had nothing to do with embarrassment. For the two-natureds, being naked was as natural as running on four legs or flying. However, precautions had to be taken. Most humans in the area had no idea, and no one wanted to land themselves in jail for indecency.
Quinn sprinted for the garage, his legs and arms pumping, his body taut with purpose. Naked or not, there was nothing indecent about him. The planes and curves of his body were blurred perfection as he ran. When he reached the stairs at the side of the garage, he hurled himself over the railing and took the stairs two at a time.
My heart beat with such ferocity I thought I might stroke out.
I’d seen him—every glorious inch of him. He couldn’t possibly know I was watching, but I could feel his embarrassment as clearly as if he’d whispered it in my ear. It defied his magnificence.
When he closed the door behind him, I sagged against the counter. The relief was his, not mine. Even in my compromised state, I could’ve watched him run like that all day. Even if the sight of naked Quinn induced vomiting every time I laid eyes on him, it was worth it. Though I had to admit that maybe it was a good thing we hadn’t slept together yet. If I threw up all over him the first time he undressed in front of me, things could get awkward.
I dumped out my water, opened the refrigerator door, and poured myself some of Janice’s special tea. I gulped down a glass and then poured another before sitting down at the table to get my bearings. His projections were already fainter, my intuitions dimming as he calmed himself down inside his apartment.
I sat in a stupor, my head full of questions and my heart full of doubts. Why was he running naked through the woods? He had no business being out there, especially in his current state of mind, which was another thing I couldn’t make sense of. The woods were full of mischief at night. Only a month before, I’d lost a cousin to the dangers out there. I didn’t want Quinn running into the wrong types of creatures too.
And why was he making me sick again? We’d had several good days, and I’d decided moving into the garage had done him some good. I’d thought that maybe in his own space he was finding some peace and dealing with his past. I’d allowed his quiet to lull me into thinking again that this was possible, that we were possible. But now I found myself just as susceptible to his moods as I had been the first time he came into the diner.
For every step forward, it felt like we took two steps back. And every time I got close to reaching him, he pulled away again. Of one thing I was sure—Quinn was hurting.
I didn’t know how or even if I could help him.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, I WAS feeling much better. Maybe it was the tea. Maybe Quinn had settled down or even gone to sleep. Or it could have been the physical distance between us. The diner seemed to be far enough away from the house that he couldn’t reach me. Whatever the reason, I was glad for the reprieve for one very specific reason—I was trying my best not to think about what I’d seen earlier that morning.
I delivered breakfast to table number six and was at the window again just as Ryan hit the bell. “Order up.”
“What’s on tap for the weekend?” I asked him.
“Wedding stuff,” he huffed. “Apparently, throwing a wedding together in six weeks is a challenge.”
I gave him a hard look. “So is throwing together a house.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I owe you big time.”
“Not me. Quinn. He’s working his ass off.”
“You are, too.”
I shook my head. “Not as much as I should be. He won’t let me. By the time I get home, he’s usually done for the night.”
“How’s it coming along?” Ryan looked nervous.
“You should come by and see it. He’s pretty amazing. Yesterday, he finished tearing apart the last bathroom and had dinner on the table when I got home.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “And after dinner?” Since we pretty much discussed every aspect of our lives, Ryan was well aware that Quinn’s and my relationship was at a physical standstill.
“And then, as usual, we both ran to our prospective corners.” My mind drifted where I didn’t want it to. I couldn’t help myself. The mere mention of Quinn running brought back the image of him earlier that morning. Toned and buff in my backyard.
Naked.
Ryan shielded his eyes as if the image pained him. “Whoa. But you’ve clearly seen him naked.”
“Get out of my head!” I glared at him. This was the very real and inconvenient downside to having Ryan as a best friend. I grabbed the plate from the window and spun away from him. It was too late, though. I’d already let too much slip.
“Where was he? Looks like I need to come back over and get back in his head.”
I turned abruptly around again. “Mind your own business, Ryan. I mean it. Something is up with him, but I’m not pushing him. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.”
“Or I can cut through the red tape.”
“No tape cutting. I want to hear about it from him, not you.”
Ryan looked displeased. “I told you before he was dangerous.”
“And then you changed your mind when it suited your purposes.” I mocked him, “Gee thanks, Quinn. You’re willing to work on the house and get it ready for my wedding so I don’t have to? Awesome. Appreciate it. You’re going to hang around Willow every day? I don’t trust you, but that sounds great.” My hands were shaking, I was so livid.
“Settle down, Willow. I would never let him hang around if I thought for one second he was a threat to you,” he growled back at me.
I stood tall and glared fiercely at him. “Yet you did.”
“No. I let it happen because I picked up every single thing going through his head that night. He was like an open book, and he was so easy to read. He thought I was going to hurt you, and he stood between us. Me. He wanted to protect you from me.” Ryan let out a little laugh.
“Then you know he’s not going to hurt me, and you can give him the privacy he deserves,” I said defiantly.
He leaned forward so his face filled the entire window. “His heart seems to be in the right place, but what if he can’t help it, Willow?”
“Stay out of his head. And stay out of mine.” I turned on my heel and stomped away.
“There are no rules when it comes to your safety,” he called after me.
I was still fuming when I got to Old Man Hansen’s table. The plate clattered on the table and a slice of toast slid off the plate and onto the table. He looked up at me with genuine surprise but didn’t say anything. Instead, he picked up the toast and placed it back on the plate. He gave me a rare smile, and I tried my best
to return it. I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked away.
Rounding the counter again, I ignored Ryan, who was still watching me through the narrow window. I flipped open my order tablet and flipped through the tickets. When I found Clive’s, I ripped it in half and tossed it in the trash. “Your fault,” I said over my shoulder. “I practically dumped his breakfast in his lap.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” he huffed.
The bell over the door rang, and I looked up to see Quinn walking into the diner. “Oh, for the love of God and all that is holy,” I muttered. This was not good timing. I was so mad at Ryan I was nearly in tears. My wall was a pile of rubble, and even if I could get it up again, I knew it stood no chance against him. I didn’t want Quinn to see me like this. I didn’t want to see him like this.
The last time I’d seen him, he’d been naked and wet. That was the image still running through my head as he stood in front of me.
“Hi,” he said, his voice unsure. “Everything okay?”
“Uhh, yeah,” I said, flustered. You have clothes on so maybe. Or maybe not. Take them off and let’s see.
I heard Ryan laugh behind me, and I whirled on him again. “I’m warning you,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “You’re not the only one who can play this game. Do you want to know everything Vanessa is feeling right now? Pregnant women are a lot of fun,” I said with a healthy amount of sarcasm.
“Nooooo,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. He turned back to the stove and started whistling.
“That’s what I thought, you coward.” When I turned back to Quinn, he looked thoroughly confused. “Don’t mind us. We were arguing about something before you came in, but it’s all good now.” I smiled to put his mind at ease. I didn’t need him flying off the handle right now. “What’s up?”
“I came by to ask you about the fixtures in the bathrooms. I took some pictures of what’s at the hardware store, but I don’t think you’re going to like what I found. We may need to order something.”
