by Leslie Gould
That Charlie understood. Tim stepped aside, and Charlie strode onto the mud porch with as much confidence as he could muster and then down the stairs. He walked slowly, not wanting Tim to think he was scared.
Joel was right about something setting Tim off. Charlie expected Tim to follow him, but when he hadn’t heard any footsteps by the time he reached the lane, he turned around.
Tim stood in the middle of his driveway, his arms still crossed, his feet spread wide, and his hat tipped back.
Charlie waved to Tim, but the man didn’t respond. Instead he rolled back on his heels and glared.
Joel sat in the living room with the baby on his lap again, giving her a bottle, when Charlie returned. “How’d it go?” Joel asked.
“Fine,” Charlie answered
Shani stepped out from the kitchen. “Looks like you survived.”
“Barely,” Charlie said.
“What happened?”
Charlie’s face warmed again. “Tim came home.”
“Uh-oh.” Shani peered out the kitchen window. “Oops. Looks like he followed you here.”
Footsteps fell on the porch followed by a rapid knocking.
It’d been months since Charlie had felt any kind of fear. Until now.
“I’ll get it,” Shani called to Joel. Charlie followed her.
Shani opened the door, the dish towel still in her hand. “Hi,” she said.
Tim took off his hat. No matter how upset he was, he seemed to be minding his manners. That was a good sign. “I came to get my daughter,” he said, scanning the room.
“I was going to bring her back in a little bit,” Shani said.
“I’ll take her now.” Tim’s eyes landed on Joel and the baby.
Shani stood with her hand on the door. Charlie had never, in all the time he’d known her, seen her at a loss for words or action. But she seemed to be now.
“Excuse me,” Tim said stepping around her toward Joel.
Joel stared him down. “Shani, get the baby’s things while she finishes her bottle.” He motioned to the chair a foot away. “Have a seat, Tim.”
Incredibly, Tim followed Joel’s instructions.
Charlie stood against the wall. The men all watched the baby while Shani gathered up the diaper bag. “I’ll drive you home,” she said. “This is a lot to carry.”
“I can manage,” Tim said.
“The car seat is in the van. I can drop it off later.”
Tim shook his head. “I’ll take it now.” Once the baby drained the last of her bottle, Tim reached for her. Joel let her go, handing the bottle to Tim at the same time. Trudy looked even smaller in her father’s big burly arms. He took the diaper bag from Shani and slung it over his shoulder.
“I’ll get the car seat,” Shani said, heading toward the door, giving Charlie a pleading look. He shrugged. Tim nodded a good-bye to Joel and then followed Shani out the door.
Charlie followed. He stood at the bottom of the stairs while Shani retrieved the car seat and headed back with it. Tim slipped the baby into it, but then struggled with the straps. Shani did it for him. He scooped the seat up with one arm and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder.
“We won’t be needing the boy any longer in the afternoons,” Tim said.
“Oh.” Shani stepped backward. “But he enjoys it so much. Couldn’t he keep helping?”
Tim shook his head.
“It’s good for him,” Shani said. “And your sons enjoy having him.”
Tim shook his head again.
Charlie cleared his throat. “If this has anything to do with me, please don’t take it out on Zane.”
Tim ignored Charlie. “The boy’s made amends,” he said. “We’re grateful for his help, but Simon is doing fine now.” He started to walk away.
Shani hurried to his side. “How is Eve going to manage, with her ankle sprained?”
“I’ll go get Lila at school if I need to,” Tim said. “We can manage.”
“Why won’t you accept our help?” The sound of his own voice surprised Charlie. He hadn’t intended to say a word.
“Your help?” Tim spat the words. “I saw your help on my sister’s face. I lost her once—I won’t lose her again.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Charlie said. “I wouldn’t harm Eve. Not for anything.”
Tim shook his head. “It’s her harming herself that I’m worried about.” He turned to Shani. “Tell the boy I’m sorry. I’ve appreciated his help. But it’s for the best. For him too—you’ll see.” Then Tim marched away, covering the distance like a giant lumbering down the lane.
Charlie stood completely still. A breeze teased through the leaves above their heads. Shani put her hands on top of her bun, squishing it down. “What happened with Eve?” she asked, her voice too loud.
“Shh,” he said.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want Zane to lose those boys. I don’t want to lose Eve’s friendship.”
“I don’t want that either,” Charlie said.
“Why would he turn us away when we can help? There are three of us adults . . .”
Well, two, Charlie thought. He needed to return to Philadelphia—and the sooner the better.
Tim had reached the cedar tree. “He can’t hear us now,” Shani said. “Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said. “I was wrapping Eve’s ankle—being professional, I promise.”
“I believe you,” Shani said.
“And when I was done, I looked up and she was staring at me, and then Tim walked in.”
“Staring at you? How?”
Charlie swallowed hard. “I-I don’t know, Shani. She was just staring at me.”
“How?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.” But he did. Desire. That’s what it looked like. Tim had seen it too.
Charlie hadn’t imagined it.
He couldn’t tell Shani though. He wouldn’t betray Eve. Charlie started back toward the house.
Shani grabbed his hand. “We have too much to lose.”
Charlie shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.” At least he didn’t think he did.
“She’s courting that bishop. Tim must have misinterpreted how she looked at you. . . . ” She hesitated. “Whatever it was he thought.”
Charlie headed for the house again, and this time Shani followed.
“What was that all about?” Joel asked as they trudged back into the house.
Shani glanced at Charlie and then back at her husband. Her tone changed, probably because she didn’t want to upset Joel. “I guess you were right about Tim,” she said. “It just happened sooner than we thought.”
“That’s a shame,” Joel said.
“You fell for the baby, huh?” Shani sat on the arm of his chair.
Joel turned toward her. Charlie stepped into the kitchen, his heart hurting. He wiped down the counters as Shani entered. “You make such a good maid,” she said.
“Yeah, well, I like to earn my keep.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Soon,” he said.
“I’m going to run to the store. Can you stay for an hour?”
“Sure,” he answered.
He needed to do some grocery shopping when he got home and throw in a load of laundry, but that wouldn’t take long. Mostly he needed some time to think.
After Shani left, Charlie wheeled Joel down the ramp and out into the sunshine.
“Wheel me up the lane,” Joel said.
Charlie shook his head. “There are too many ruts.” He pushed Joel to the edge of the driveway, where he was still in the sun. Charlie sat down on a nearby stump.
“The road’s not as bad as the ones in Iraq.”
Charlie nodded. “You’re right about that.”
After a long silence Joel muttered, “Did we do the right thing?”
“We did what we were asked to do—for each other if nothing else.”
“Do you think that’s how
Samuel’s wife feels? And his parents?”
Charlie stared off into the trees, not knowing what to say. Joel had always been more philosophical than he was. “Did we do the right thing in joining up? Going to Iraq? Sending the gunner with the other Humvee instead of keeping him with us?” He’d helped Joel make that decision.
“Yeah, all of those things.”
“What does it matter?” Charlie asked. “We can’t change anything.”
“Except how I feel about myself.” Joel shaded his eyes.
Charlie certainly couldn’t change that.
Joel cleared his throat and then asked, “Have you heard from any of the guys lately?”
“Yeah. Rogers sent me a text last week.” Charlie hesitated, not sure whether to keep going or not.
“What did he say?”
“Samuel’s baby was in the hospital with pneumonia.”
Joel cursed.
“No, she pulled through. She’s gonna be okay.”
Joel exhaled. “How old is she now?”
“Five months.” Charlie rubbed his hands together. He was pretty sure Joel knew—he just didn’t want to do the math. She’d been born the day before they were hit. Samuel had been so green—so naïve about everything, but in a funny way. He’d come from a conservative background. Went to some church that Charlie never got the whole story on. Married young. He should have had his whole life in front of him.
Joel shifted his gaze toward a flock of starlings swooping toward the field.
Charlie wasn’t sure whether he should say more or not, but he guessed it would come better from him than someone else. “Samuel’s parents moved to Lancaster not too long ago.”
“You’re kidding?” Joel tightened his grip on the arms of his chair.
“Nope. Seems they wanted to be closer to their grandchild, without moving to Philly.”
Joel shook his head.
“You looked good holding Trudy today,” Charlie said, hoping to lighten the mood.
Joel shook his head again.
“You’re a natural.”
“That’s what Shani said.” Joel kept his eyes on the distance.
“Yours will be here before you know it.”
Joel’s eyes clouded over. Charlie looked away.
“I don’t deserve it,” Joel said. “God knows I don’t. Samuel should be with his baby. I shouldn’t. . . .” He didn’t have to say it. Charlie knew what he was thinking.
Joel thought it should have been him instead of Samuel.
Charlie hit traffic just before the exit to Valley Forge. He kept thinking about the Lehmans. About Tim lumbering down the lane with the baby and car seat in one arm and the diaper bag over the other. About Joel giving Trudy the bottle. Of Zane joking around with Simon and Daniel, learning all the wrong words in Pennsylvania Dutch. About Shani lamenting that she didn’t want to lose Eve’s friendship.
And most of all, about that unexpected look on Eve’s face.
“But she shouldn’t have sent me over there,” he said out loud and then sighed. “No, I shouldn’t have agreed to go.” Shani didn’t have any reason not to send him over, regardless of their joking.
Joel was right. It was inevitable that Tim would find some reason to stop the friendships between the two families. Maybe Tim overreacted or maybe he was looking for a reason to disengage from the Becks.
He couldn’t help but wonder what the man meant when he had said, “It’s her harming herself that I’m worried about.” What had happened in the past to make Tim so suspicious?
His heart constricted again. What was the matter with him? He should have asked Joel to knock some sense into him before he left.
That made him smile. Joel could probably still take him down. He’d done it to Samuel just outside of Tikrit. They were on a mission to set up a communications antenna when word came that Samuel’s wife, who was seven and a half months pregnant, had gone into early labor. Samuel freaked out. Joel told him to stop, but Samuel started yelling and kept it up until Joel tackled him and held him down, calmly saying, “Get a grip or you won’t be any good to your wife and kid. They need you.”
Joel kept him pinned until Samuel finally stopped fighting. Back at base that night, after the baby had been born, Joel called the hospital, got through to the maternity ward, and managed to talk someone into helping Samuel’s wife get on Skype.
The baby was in the NICU, but her chances looked good. She just needed some extra care. The last thing his wife said to him was, “You’ll see her soon. I promise.” Samuel was scheduled for a furlough in six weeks, during the time the baby was originally due.
He couldn’t sleep that night after talking with his wife and was bouncing all over the place. Joel threatened to take Samuel down again if he didn’t stop it.
The next day the rocket-propelled grenade hit the Humvee. Samuel never saw it coming. And he never saw his baby girl either. He had a photo waiting in his inbox that arrived while they were out. When Charlie found it later, he couldn’t bear to open the attachment.
All Charlie could think of were Joel’s words. “Get a grip or you won’t be any good to your wife and kid. They need you.” He was pretty sure that was what haunted Joel too.
As the traffic crawled along, dark clouds rolled in. A big raindrop splattered against the windshield and then another. Soon the black sky opened up, and the deluge brought traffic to a standstill. There were bound to be accidents.
His chest constricted again, but this time in anticipation of danger. Of things gone wrong. That was the tragedy of what had happened with the Lehmans. The friendship had the promise of something good. Now that had all changed.
It was seven thirty by the time he reached his little brick house on the west side of Philly. It wasn’t exactly a great neighborhood—but it wasn’t horrible either. It was eight by the time he’d unpacked and started a load of laundry. Forget the store. He had enough lunch meat to make a sandwich. He’d grocery shop after work the next day.
As he scrounged the cupboards for dinner—a can of tuna, a jar of peaches—his landline rang. Maybe Eve was calling from the barn phone.
He answered it quickly.
“Hi.” It wasn’t Eve.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“Guess.”
His stomach sank. He didn’t reply.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Nikki paused. “How are you? I heard about the bad stuff that happened. I feel horrible. It sounds like it all came down right after . . . you know.”
“Uh-huh,” he said.
“So, are you doing all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said, tucking the phone under his chin. “How are you?”
“Good. Listen, I’m thinking about going back to the church group. Are you still going?”
“I haven’t yet, but I plan to.”
“Do you mind if I go? This week?”
He wanted to say it was a free country, but the cliché made him cringe now.
“Charlie?” Her voice sounded the same.
“Go if you want,” he said. “I may make it, depending on what time I get off work.”
“I hope I’ll see you,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. Or maybe not. His chest constricted again. Not in pain. And certainly not in desire—at least not for Nikki.
He fell asleep that night thinking about Eve but woke up in the middle of a dream about Nikki. At least he thought it was about her. He couldn’t remember it for sure. Just her long blond hair.
He punched his pillow and then rolled over to his back, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t have much to complain about. He was alive. He didn’t have a messed-up leg. He wasn’t disabled with a family to support and a new baby on the way.
But nothing felt right. Helping Joel and Shani and Zane had felt good until the stuff with Tim blew up. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to help Eve. Why hadn’t he just told Shani it was a bad idea?
Because he’d wanted to go down—that was why. He wanted to see E
ve. He glanced at the clock: 1:45. He definitely needed more sleep.
He must have drifted off, because sand blew around him. A blown-out car blocked the road. He could almost smell the diesel. Dusk fell. A scream pierced through him as he jumped out of the Humvee.
His heart thumped as his eyes flew open. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. He turned toward the clock: 4:03. He took several deep breaths and blew them out slowly, like the emergency training video had shown. Still his heart raced.
After a minute of more deep breaths, he got up. He’d shower. Fix some eggs for breakfast. Make his lunch.
As he stumbled into the hall, he groaned. He’d done a fine job helping the Becks. He’d only made things worse—not better. And for himself too. He’d forget about Eve. He’d try his best to go to the church group and see Nikki. He needed to get on with his life.
He needed to move forward. Now.
18
Early Tuesday morning Eve woke before Trudy and listened to the rain drum against the window and a branch scrape against the side of the house.
Once the baby stirred, Eve slid her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, putting a little weight on her ankle. The bandage had come loose. She bent over and tried to rewrap it, but it was too dark to see what she was doing.
Trudy started to cry.
“I’m right here,” Eve said. “Hold on.” She stood, putting more weight on her ankle. It didn’t feel any worse than the day before. She slipped her robe on and then, putting her weight on her good foot, pulled the baby from the crib. Hobbling into the hall, she made it to the bathroom, changed Trudy’s soaked diaper, and headed to the kitchen to light the lamp and heat up a bottle.
She started the kettle for coffee while the bottle heated. She considered putting Trudy down and letting her cry, but that might wake up the other children, when they could sleep another half hour.
She put the filter and then the coffee in the French press. “You get your bottle,” Eve whispered to the baby. “And I get my coffee.”
Trudy reached toward the stove, opening and closing her fist.
“Patience, little one,” Eve said. “All in good time.” The thought depressed her. All in good time for everyone but her, it seemed. She’d ruined everything by feeling what she did for Charlie. And not just for herself, for the children too. It would have done them good to have Englisch friends. She understood Tim’s concerns, but there was no stopping life. His children would come to know Englischers sooner or later, unless he locked them in the house.
