“No, I’m not. But someday I’m going to be just like you.”
Nick’s emotions were spilling out all over the place. He stood up and grabbed his son in a bear hug. “I love you, Cody. I’m a lucky dad. From now on, we’re going to spend a lot of time together.” He paused. “For starters, I thought we’d join a gym and work out together in the evenings after you’ve finished your homework.”
“Cool! And when summer comes, we’ll go on a whole bunch of backpacking trips.”
“I’m planning on it. We’ll take some of your pals and camp up by Mirror Lake in the Uintahs.”
“Jeff’s dad loves to do stuff like that, too. You’ll like him a lot. I can’t wait for you to meet everybody!”
“I can’t wait, either.”
“I guess we won’t be able to do much in August because I have football practice. Will you come to my games?”
“I’ll never miss another one.”
“But, Dad, you’re still in the reserve, aren’t you?”
Nick shook his head. “No, Cody. I’m through with all that. I’m home forever.”
“Yippee!” Cody burst out before hugging Nick again.
Catching sight of the messy bed, Nick let go of his son and suggested they clean things up before Rosie got home. “I’ll hang what I can in the closet while you stack everything else over there in the corner. I’m sure your mom will have her own ideas about where my stuff’s supposed to go.”
“She’s sure taking a long time,” Cody grumbled.
“That’s because I was so hungry I gave her a huge list of groceries to buy.”
“Dad?” he murmured tentatively.
Here it comes.
Nick finished hanging his coat and parka in the closet next to Rosie’s pink quilted robe, the one he’d bought her the last Christmas they were together. “Yes?” he answered without turning around, burying his face in the soft fabric. It smelled of the bath oil she always used and brought back a flood of intimate memories.
He heard Cody expel a troubled sigh. “I forget. Never mind.”
“Cody?” Nick closed the closet doors and faced his son. “If you need to talk to me, then I want to hear it. I guess I hate secrets about as much as I hate anything.”
“Me, too.” Cody bowed his head. Nick realized he was trying hard to find the courage to broach the one subject guaranteed to exacerbate his father’s pain. He needed help.
“I understand you just got back from a Caribbean cruise with your mom and Zach Wilde.”
At the mention of the other man’s name, Cody’s dark head reared back. His tanned face reflected astonishment. “You know about him?”
Nick nodded. “Your mom says they’re engaged and planning to be married in June.”
His son’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “But you’re home now, so she can’t marry him.”
My feelings exactly.
“I wish life was that simple, Cody, but it isn’t.”
“I hate war!” Cody shouted unexpectedly, pounding the wall with his fist. “I hate Zach. She’s probably over at his condo right now.” He broke down, trying to smother his sobs.
Nick had assumed as much, too, and the knowledge was killing him.
“If Mom marries him, I’m never speaking to her again.”
It was starting. The thing he’d been dreading had started. Right now, Cody’s justifiable anger terrified him. He had to do something to alleviate his son’s pain.
“Do you have a bike? And did your mom keep my old one?”
Cody stared at him in bewilderment. “Yes.” His shoulders were still heaving. “Both.”
“We can’t talk here. Let’s take a ride down to Sunnyside Park.”
With that suggestion, Cody wiped his eyes, which had begun to look a little less wild. “Okay. I’ll get them out of the garage and meet you in front.”
“Good. While you do that, I’ll let your grandparents know where we’re going so they won’t worry.”
Cody dashed from the room. Nick followed at a slower pace only to discover Rosie in the kitchen, her arms loaded with groceries.
Their eyes met. She was the first to look away, guilt written all over her face as she started emptying the bags. He studied her mouth, wondering if Zach’s kiss had blotted out the memory of the one he’d given her at the base earlier in the day.
“Are there more of those?” He nodded to the bags she’d put on the counter.
“Yes.”
“I’ll get them.”
In the space of a heartbeat, her glance flicked to his left arm, then she averted her eyes. “Nick… please…This is your first day home. Let me wait on you.”
“I’m not an invalid, Rosie.”
She wheeled around to face him, her cheeks on fire. “I know you’re not.”
“Then don’t treat me like one. Where did you park the car?”
She moistened her lips nervously. “It’s behind your parents’ car.”
He stole an apple from one of the sacks and bit into it. “I’ll be right back.” Finishing it in a few bites, he headed out the door. Cody was waiting in front of the house, straddling his mountain bike. Nick’s old bike lay on the lawn beside him.
Nick reached into the trunk of the car for the groceries. “I’m going to run these in to your mother, then we’ll go.”
“Okay,” he answered quietly.
“Hey— Catch!” He tossed a couple of packages of Twinkies at his son, producing the smile he was looking for. “I’ll hurry.”
When he reentered the kitchen, Rosie was peeling potatoes. She murmured a cordial thank-you, but her rigid back, the set of her beautiful golden head, betrayed the growing tension between them. He put the bags on the counter.
“Cody’s going to take me on a little tour of the neighborhood. We’ll be back before the food’s ready.”
She turned to him, a hint of pleading in her shadowed green eyes. “I—I think that’s a good idea.”
Nick’s chest constricted. “I thought it might be,” he bit out, hurting like hell.
“Please don’t be sarcastic, Nick. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that Cody has wanted his father for so long now….” Her voice trailed off.
“Shall I apologize now for granting him his wish?”
“What are you talking about?” He could see she was fighting tears, but he couldn’t control his feelings any longer.
“I thought it was obvious. My unexpected return from the dead has destroyed your dreams.”
She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “Nick!” Her face lost all its color, and he felt her pain, her confusion and guilt. But the white-hot heat of his own pain had consumed him; he had to get out of there. He left the kitchen on a run, ignoring her pleas for him to come back.
If Cody was surprised at his quick return, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he put a Twinkie in his father’s mouth. “I bet you haven’t had one of these in a long time.”
After the gut-wrenching scene in the kitchen, Nick didn’t think it would be possible for him to smile again, but he did. “I bet I haven’t, either,” he responded, his mouth full of cake and filling. The taste took him back to his childhood. “It’s nice to know that some things never change.” He managed another smile.
“Let’s take off, Cody. I think I can still remember how to ride one of these contraptions.”
Levering himself onto the seat, he grasped hold of the handlebars, almost forgetting that his bad arm wouldn’t be of any use on the hand brake.
“You may have to help me when we need to stop.”
“Gotcha, Dad.”
Once again Nick found himself thanking God for his son. The bond between them was growing stronger with every passing second.
Side by side, they pedaled to the corner and headed down Sunnyside Avenue, picking up speed. After several blocks they had to stop at a semaphore. On cue, Cody’s left hand reached out to Nick’s brake. While they waited for the light to change, he asked, “Was it okay with Mom?”
After a slight hesitation, Nick answered. “Sure. She and Grandma won’t have our meal ready for an hour at least.”
“Dad?”
There was that tone in his son’s voice again. Nick took a deep breath. “Yes?”
“Are you and Mom going to get a divorce?”
“MRS. ARMSTRONG? Can I be of any help? Peeling vegetables was my strong suit during KP duty.”
Rosie took a shuddering breath. She hadn’t heard R.T. come in the back door and prayed he couldn’t tell she’d been crying. “Thank you, R.T. I’ve already put the scalloped potatoes in the oven. But if you’d like to finish the carrots, I’m going to put on some jeans and a T-shirt. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“There’s no hurry.”
She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about her change of outfit. Everyone had given her and Nick a wide berth, including his parents. Through the window over the sink she could see them on the porch swing, their heads close together in avid conversation.
They hate me. They hate what I’ve done to their son.
Who could blame them?
I hate myself.
At the door to the hall Rosie paused and said, “Please. Consider our house your home. Help yourself to anything that looks good. Day or night.”
“I’m glad you said that. I’ve been thinking about a peanut-butter-and-honey sandwich for hours now.”
“They’re both in the right-hand cupboard, and the bread is in the fridge. I bought you your own gallon of milk.”
“I’m your slave for life, Mrs. Armstrong.” He opened the cupboard and took out the two jars.
“Call me Rosie.”
“Deal.”
After another pause, she murmured, “R.T.? H-how long were you married?”
He’d already made his sandwich and was in the process of devouring the second half.
“A year. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure Cynthia’s remarried by now and probably has a couple of kids. Even if I could’ve reached her by phone, I didn’t really think she’d be there to meet me. We didn’t have that long a history together, not like you and the sar—” He stopped for a second, then amended, “Not like some married couples.”
Rosie’s eyes closed tightly. R.T. and Nick were as close, emotionally, as two people could be. There were no secrets between them.
“I—I’ve hurt Nick,” she confessed on a half sob.
“I know.”
“What am I going to do?” she whispered in agony.
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to set the clock back seven years.”
He made a sound of exasperation and shook his head. “Rosie, you don’t get it. You’re the only reason he’s alive! The only reason he stayed alive!
“Because of him, I’m still alive. Talk to him, dammit! After six and half years rotting in an Iraqi hellhole, he needs to talk about it. He needs to talk his head off about everything that happened to him. He deserves that much from you—from all of you—but he can’t do it with everyone tiptoeing around him, treating him like he’s a piece of glass that’s going to shatter.
“Good Lord, he was a superman out there! Anyone else would have left me for dead, but not the sarge. Without me, he could have gotten away and been picked up by our own soldiers.
“Instead, he dragged me from the explosion site and carried me through the rest of that minefield. He didn’t even know how bad his injury was. His hand was blown off.” R.T. swallowed several times, convulsively.
“No one expected the reserve units to see action. None of us was adequately prepared to be so rapidly activated and torn from our families. Yet the way your husband stood up to the torture and never broke, you’d have thought he’d been trained for the military all his life.” R.T.’s face screwed up as tears fell unashamedly down his pale cheeks. “I wouldn’t have made it without him. He’s the best of the best.
“Don’t you see it’s no good wishing to put back the clock? He’s done his time, Rosie. If nothing else, he’s earned the right to a full hearing from the woman who sent him off to war a whole ma—”
“Dear God, R.T.—”
“Hey.” He pressed his forehead against the cupboard. “I’m sorry for going off like that.”
“You had every right!” she cried, ashamed of her inability to understand. His words had given her a glimpse into the living nightmare of their past. Selfishly, she didn’t want to see anymore. What kind of monster was she?
“No. You’re as much a victim of the war as we are. You might as well know now. I was the one driving the truck when we hit that mine. If it hadn’t been for me, and if your husband hadn’t stayed with me, hadn’t saved my life, he would have returned home to you with the guys who survived the explosion.”
“Don’t talk about blame, R.T. All I hope is that you don’t hate me too much.”
He shook his head again. “I’ve stricken that word from my vocabulary.”
“Then you’re a far better person than I am. Excuse me,” she whispered.
She hurried into her bedroom feeling sick to her stomach. The sight of Nick’s old clothes stacked in the corner gave her another jolt. Cody hadn’t wasted any time. His father was back, and life would resume as if the war had never taken place.
Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, she rushed over to the closet to change clothes. She gasped when she opened the doors and saw more of Nick’s things hanging next to hers.
Unconsciously she reached out to touch the clothes she’d thought she’d dealt with for the last time.
Nick had always been physically perfect to her. In his topcoat, he’d looked sophisticated and rakishly handsome. She groaned. If she allowed memories to intrude, she’d never be able to cope.
Stop it, Rosie. This is sick. You’re still thinking of him as dead. He’s alive! Why can’t you believe it?
Because he doesn’t look the same? Because he’s not physically perfect anymore and you’re repulsed?
Because you’re in love with Zach and don’t want to believe it?
That’s what Nick thinks.
Is that what you think, Rosie? Do you even know what you think?
If you’re this shallow and insensitive to another human’s suffering, if you’re really this cruel and selfish, then you need help, Rosie Armstrong. The kind of professional help not even Linda Beams can give you.
Please, God. Make it possible for me to listen to him tonight. Give me the strength to get through the next twenty-four hours without losing my mind….
Rosie stood there on shaky legs trying to gather the courage to phone Zach and tell him she couldn’t see him or talk to him for a couple of days.
Now was the time to call him, while Nick was out of the house. Then maybe she’d be able to concentrate long enough to put dinner on the table. Nick’s first home-cooked meal in seven years.
Quickly, before any more time was lost, she changed out of her suit into jeans and a cotton top. After exchanging her high heels for leather sandals, she sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone and punched in Zach’s number.
When she got his answering machine, she let out the breath she’d been holding. To her horror she recognized it for what it was. Relief.
Relief because she wasn’t ready for the kind of pressure she knew Zach would apply when she told him her plans.
He would try to break down her resolve, change her mind. And because of her love for him, she was too vulnerable right now to withstand all the emotional arguments he’d use.
“Zach?” She couldn’t prevent her voice from shaking. “I’m keeping my promise by phoning you now. There won’t be a chance later.
“I’ve had a little time to think and I’ve come to a decision. I—I’m not going to see you for a while. Please don’t ask me for a timetable, because I can’t give you one. I owe Nick my undivided attention while he adjusts. Cody’s emotional state is fragile. So is mi—”
“And what about mine?” an angry male voice broke in, one s
he hardly recognized as Zach’s. He was at the condo, after all.
She jumped to her feet, trembling from head to toe.
“You can’t do this to us, Rosie. You shut me out for too damn long as it is. I’m not trying to be unreasonable. All I ask is that you fit me in for at least a few minutes every day so you don’t forget what I look like!”
She gripped the receiver more tightly. “That can’t happen and you know it. I love you, darling. But think— Nick’s been deprived of his life for seven years. Seven years. Now I have to spend a few days helping him to put some of the pieces back together. I’m the only one who can do that—but it’ll be impossible if I allow myself to see you.”
She heard a deep groan.
“No one told him, but I’m positive he knows we were together today. I can’t hurt him like that again, Zach. I can’t!”
There was a dreadful silence. “But you can hurt me.”
Her face went hot. “That’s not fair, darling. I’m trying to do the right thing. But to sneak behind his back would be cowardly. It’s not worthy of either one of us.”
“I thought you told him about us!”
“I—I have.”
“Then he knows the situation and he’ll have to understand that you and I need time together, too.”
“You’re asking for understanding from a man who was left to rot in underground prisons for six and a half years?” she asked. “Have you forgotten I’m still his wife?”
“That’s funny,” he lashed out. “Until this morning, I thought you were my fiancée.”
“Zach…you know what I meant.”
“I’m afraid I do,” he muttered. “If you ever figure out who you are, let me know. See you around.”
“No, Zach. Don’t hang up! Please—”
But the line was dead.
“Rosie?”
No…
She whirled around, the phone still in her hand. “Nick—”
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m sure you didn’t. I—I was calling Zach to tell him I couldn’t see him for a while.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, still standing in the doorway. “You don’t owe me any explanations. If I were in his shoes, I probably would’ve charged my way over here long before now.”
Strangers When We Meet Page 6
