by Vivian Wood
“Just to be clear?” Henry interrupted. “I don’t want you making any decisions based on me.”
“I wasn’t,” she snapped, but he didn’t believe her. She seemed deflated.
“Look. Kitten,” he said, softer now. “Don’t you go making any plans or room in your life for me.”
“I didn’t say anything about you,” she objected, starting to pout.
“Oh. My mistake, then.” He untangled himself from her and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going for a run. You wanna come?” She rolled her eyes at him. They both knew she’d say no.
That conversation turned the entire day upside down. For all ten miles, Henry felt like someone watched from nearby. Probably those damn mysterious agents. Back at the house, Ellie was situated on the couch and seemed to be enthralled in one of her mindless movies. For a second, he thought to ask if she wanted to join him in the shower, but changed his mind. Something was different. A big part of him hoped it was temporary, but the voice that dug into him said it was the start of the end.
Ellie didn't come to his bed that night. For the first time in days, there was no sex. Even the flirting at dinner was minimal and, if he had to be honest with himself, strained. They hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, but both seemed to know. They retreated to their own corners at nightfall, like animals licking their wounds.
Henry thought back to the last time he’d made her come. Was it the real last time? He couldn’t be certain. But, if it was, he wished he’d known. He would have made it last longer. Done a better job memorizing the lines of her body. The few moles and freckles scattered like treasures he was meant to find on her skin.
He didn't hear when she went into her own room. A black veil enveloped him quickly after he climbed under the covers. Maybe you just need some sleep, he told himself.
He’d never felt the sun that hot before. On his right was Swan. He knew most of his shipmates’ forenames, but not Swan. With a last name like that, the kid had to have known it would be the only moniker he’d ever go by. Henry angled the Humvee down the “road,” if that’s what it could be called. The path was so covered by that red sand he could barely tell where the lines began. Not that it really mattered.
“You drive like my grandma,” Swan said as he popped the gum that always seemed to be in his mouth.
“Original,” Henry said.
“I don’t mean slow,” Swan said. “I mean like you’re five screwdrivers deep and just realized you’re late for church.”
“What the fuck, Swan?” Henry said with a laugh.
“What can I say?” Swan said. “My grandma likes her drink.” Swan was only two years younger than Henry but seemed so much younger. Maybe it was the complete lack of muscle. Even after all their training, it seemed like he just couldn’t muscle up. His cammies technically fit, of course, but it always looked like he was swimming in his uniform. “Dude, wake me up when we get there,” he said as he pulled at his helmet and tried to get a little more shade. It didn’t do anything.
“Yeah, yeah,” Henry said. “Get your beauty sleep before you turn back into an ugly duckling.”
“That’s original,” Swan said. Eyes closed, he started snoring immediately. Henry looked over and took in Swan’s baby face. He looked twelve years old, flanked in fatigues like he’d just tired himself out playing Cowboys and Indians: Warfare Edition.
“Fuck,” Henry whispered to himself as a little no-name “hamlet” came into view. A local waved on the roadside. They weren’t supposed to talk with the locals unless it was under direct orders as part of a community-building strategy. Still, all that empathy Aunt Mary had forced into him could sometimes get the best of him.
The man was old and obviously frail, even from a distance. His perahan wat tunban seemed to have devoured the sand and made him look at one with the earth. “Hello?” the old man called in a thick accent as Henry brought the Humvee to a halt and rolled down Swan’s window to hear. “Mebakhshen? Mebakhshen? Eh … mazrat mekhwaham …”
“Aaya shuma Englisi yaad daren?” Henry asked stupidly. Obviously he doesn’t speak English.
Swan stirred as Henry leaned over him. The old man came closer. “I do,” the old man said, and he pulled a Khyber Pass Copy pistol from the folds of material.
“Shit.” Henry slammed on the gas, but the old man’s hand was already partially in the open window.
“What the hell?” Swan said suddenly. As he jerked his head up, the gun knocked against the window frame as Henry pulled away.
The sound of the shot was deafening. That was what people always said about a gunshot. Deafening. It roared through his ears so intensely, he was sure he’d busted his ear drums.
Swan’s blood splashed across the window. It made it nearly impossible to see anything. “Swan,” a voice said, over and over. My god, is that me? “Swan!” he said, even as he noticed bits of bone and a few pieces of flesh that weren’t soaked in red resting on the dashboard. He’d been hit just right, the bullet had raced clean through his jawbone and exited the other cheek.
“It’s okay,” Ellie said. He felt her cool hands on his forehead, and suddenly he was back. “You’re okay.”
He didn’t have to say anything. She crawled into bed beside him, one arm wrapped protectively around his shoulder.
“Sorry,” he whispered, but she just shushed him.
Once he’d calmed and sleep began to overtake him again, Ellie asked quietly, “Why were you yelling for a swan?”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just… those dreams again.” How could he tell her?
He knew, as he drifted before sleep, that with her there he’d sleep soundly. What was it about her that caused that magic?
Whatever it was, he couldn’t give it up.
24
“Eli wants me to go back to D.C.,” Ellie said as he put a plate of French toast in front of her.
“What? Why now?” he asked. She could tell he was choosing his words carefully.
“Actually, he wants us both to go.” Henry dropped his fork on the floor. “Henry! He doesn’t know. I didn’t say anything. It’s for one of his fundraisers.”
“He needs us both there for some charity event to save the dolphins?” Henry asked warily as he sat down with a clean fork from the drawer.
“This one’s diabetes, actually,” she said.
“Okay. I mean, it’s his place,” Henry said. “Can’t really overstay my welcome.”
“Don’t be weird,” she said.
“It is weird, kitten,” he said. “All of… this.” He gestured at the space between them.
“So… what, then?”
“I don’t know. I guess… let’s keep up appearances. Eli would think it’s stranger if I didn’t go after staying at his cabin so long. Let’s just… I’ll see you at the party, I guess.”
The Secret Service agents didn’t bother giving them any space as the two SUVs headed toward the regional airport. Henry held her hand the entire way. This might be the last time we touch, she thought. Ellie couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in her stomach.
As Henry hugged her goodbye, she asked again. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive back with you?” At least she could buy a few more hours alone with him.
“No, you should go,” he said. “You don’t think Eli would find it odd you forgo a first-class ticket to sit in a car with me for hours?”
“Yeah, okay. You’re right,” she said.
She took an Uber from the airport after her mom texted her, as usual. Sorry! Cooking! Meet you at home?
In the kitchen, her mom squeezed her tight with one arm. In her other hand was a spatula coated in what must have been her latest vegan kale concoction. She absolutely glowed. Maybe that was what weeks at a yoga retreat and resort in Mexico did to you. “How was Cancún?” she asked her mom.
“Bali, sweetie.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“And it was amazing. But tell me about you. How… how are you?”
Th
ey hadn’t had a chance to talk since the Sean thing had fallen apart. In Ellie’s rush to just get away, she’d simply shot her mom an email. She figured Eli would fill her in—or the news channels. “I’m okay,” she said.
“Really?” Her mom’s blue eyes were lit with concern.
“Really, Mom. Much better. I think I just needed some time away.”
“Good. That’s good.” Reassured, her mom gave her one of those trademark smiles. Clearly, Eli hadn’t told her about the death threats. “Go put your stuff upstairs. I, uh, I neatened up your room for you,” she said, her eyes fixed on the bubbling green in the wok.
There wasn’t a single box left stacked against the wall. It was like college had never happened. Like Sean had never happened. Ellie’s room hadn’t changed since she was a kid. She just hadn’t cared in high school, and embraced the pink, frilly princess theme as ironic. Then it was college and straight into living in the sorority house. By her junior year, she was basically living at Sean’s, though they’d never made it official. Ellie ran her finger over the vanity table with its delicate legs and porcelain knobs. Maybe none of it did happen.
“Hey, Mom,” she said as she strolled barefoot into the recently remodeled kitchen. Her mom was constantly remodeling now. The appliances were chef-grade and the light fixtures were all LED bulbs. From the nonsensical white marble countertops to the surplus of skylights, everything was gourmet and luxury.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” her mom asked, her eyes glued on the Barefoot Contessa who chirped away on the kitchen TV.
Ellie walked up behind her, grabbed a spoon from the counter, and stole a bite.
“Hey! That’s not done being seasoned yet.”
“Yeah,” Ellie said as she stuck out her tongue and pretended to gag. “No amount of seasoning is going to save this.”
“Oh, hush. You’ll see when you’re my age. You’re not going to keep that perfect little body of yours forever with no effort,” her mom said.
“Mom? How do you know… when you’ve met the one? Or, like, how can you tell if you just think you’ve met the one, but you’re wrong?”
Her mom sighed. “Honey, I wish I could take your pain away.” Shit, she thinks I’m talking about Sean.
“It’s not about that,” Ellie said, but her mom looked at her like she was full of shit. “Really. I’m just curious.”
“Well, I’m probably not the one to ask,” her mom said. “Look at your father and me. Not exactly a match made in heaven.”
“Yeah,” Ellie said. “Hey, what exactly do Navy SEALs do? Do you know?”
Her mom looked up at her. “You should probably ask Eli or Ryan about that,” she said.
“They don’t like to talk to me about that stuff. Why do you think some of them have PTSD, and some don’t? Even when the ones who don’t mind have seen worse things.”
“I don’t know, Ellie,” her mom said, sprinkling a terrible-smelling powder into the wok. “Everyone’s different, every soldier is different. Your dad’s PTSD from his Navy days, I never really understood. He’d never talk to me about it. You’ve got to ask each person about their own unique experiences. Why?” she asked suddenly. “Did Ryan say something? Do you think he has PTSD—”
“No, Mom. Geez, I was just asking.”
“Well. Okay.”
“Do you ever feel…” Ellie said, and she hopped onto the counter to let her legs dangle.
“Off,” her mom said automatically.
“…like your stomach is empty, but you’re full of heartache at the same time?”
Her mom stopped stirring and looked at her squarely. “Sure. Every time your dad went on deployment.”
Ellie was surprised. There was a time Mom felt like this?
“Don’t look so shocked,” her mom said with a laugh. “That’s lovesickness that you’re feeling, sweetie.”
“It is?”
“And that means you must be in love. Okay, who is it? Spill,” her mom said, turning the stove off. “You better not be back with that asshole Sean, Ellie—”
“Mom!”
“Oh, don’t act like your ears are so sensitive. I had to bite my tongue for years with the three of you so you wouldn’t sound like you were raised by sailors. Even though you were, partially—”
“What’s the drama?” Every time Sam entered a room, she never just walked in. She strutted.
“Sam!” Ellie was grateful to get out of her mom’s questioning and wrapped her arms around Sam’s slender shoulders. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Okay. Bye, Ms. Scott!” she said. “That smells just… wonderful.”
“I’ll be sure to save you some,” her mom called behind them.
In Ellie’s room, Sam fell dramatically onto the twin bed. “So? Tell me everything. You’ve been AWOL. Not even a single ’gram to let me know what’s been going on. You look good, though. Have you been working out?”
“Sam, shut up,” Ellie said. “I need to tell you something.”
It all came out in a flood. “Oh my God, you slut,” Sam said with a laugh and she slapped Ellie on the butt. “I can’t believe you did it! And fast, too! You made poor Sean—sorry, that dickless loser Sean—wait two years without even a cordial blowie.”
“Sam,” she said as she gestured downstairs to where her mom was surely trying to listen.
“Sorry. But, real talk though, this guy’s dependable, right? Like, you’re happy about it. Right?”
Ellie swallowed hard. “I mean. I think so? I’ve known him forever, but –”
“But what?”
“When I was telling him about grad school, and about how I was thinking about the west coast but maybe it was too far… he told me not to make any plans based on him.”
Sam made a face. “Typical, commitment-phobic man. I swear, they never grow up. It doesn’t matter if they’re twenty or sixty. Did I tell you about the total silver fox I dated for like a week before college? He was—”
“Sam! Focus. Here, please,” Ellie said and pointed at herself.
“Right, sorry. Okay, I have an idea. This guy’s gonna be at Eli’s party tonight, right?”
“He’s supposed to be.”
“Okay. Hold up one minute.” Sam pulled out her phone and started texting.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting my latest distraction,” Sam said. “There. Eli won’t care if I have a plus one, right?”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “I’ll let him know. He has to be more official now, so I’ll need this guy’s full name to put him on the list.”
“Fuck. I need to know his last name?”
“Sam!”
“Just kidding! Kind of, but I’ll totally Facebook stalk him and find out.”
“Thanks.”
“But tonight? Tonight we’re gonna find out if Henry has feelings for you or not.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Ellie asked.
“Trust me, I have my ways,” Sam said. Her phone buzzed. “Yes! This dude’s on board.”
“Dude?”
“Well, that’s what he is,” Sam said.
“Okay. I need his last name. Seriously, now. Eli might already get pissy with me bothering him over this just a few hours before.”
“Fine,” Sam said. “I’ll just ask him.” She texted another string of messages with lightning-fast fingers.
“What’s his first name?” Ellie asked.
“Suck deep.”
“What the hell, Sam, we need to focus a little here?”
“I just told you! It’s Sukhdeep.”
“You’re dating a guy named Suck Deep?”
“I don’t like to put labels on it,” Sam said. “And, get this, it means lamp of happiness. And let me tell you, it’s appropriate.” Her phone buzzed. “Oh, weird,” she said as she looked at the screen. “His last name is Harrington. Maybe he’s adopted or something.”
“Sam.”
“Okay, okay, all eyes on you! Damn, getting dicked regularly sure mad
e you demanding. So. First things first. We figure out what you’re going to wear.” Sam went to her closet and started flipping through the hangers.
“That’s your master plan?”
“Ellie,” Sam said as she turned around with a serious face. “Please. Don’t discount the power of the right outfit.”
Sam flew through the entirety of Ellie’s closet in two minutes. “This all sucks. It’s like the YEEZY Season 2 line knocked up Ann Taylor in here. Do you own anything that isn’t a neutral and covers ninety percent of your body?”
“Thanks,” Ellie said to her back.
“Not to worry, my little nympho,” Sam said. She pinched Ellie’s cheek like she was a kid. “I know the perfect place. My closet.”
25
Henry pulled at his bowtie while Eli finished his welcome speech. He’d bought the tux a year ago and had only worn it once before, for one of Eli’s black tie campaign fetes. He’d thought it was a stupid purchase then, and he still did. Who buys a tux, anyway? Where the hell was she?
The crowd burst out in applause, which caused Henry to follow suit halfheartedly. He turned around and scanned the crowd for her. Nothing. Not that he’d know what to say to her anyway. And with her brother so close, he didn’t want to get tempted at all.
There’s no way you can get caught touching her, he warned himself.
At the bar, Henry ordered another drink. “The usual?” asked the pretty, olive-skinned bartender as she looked him up and down. There were hundreds of people, yet she remembered his drink of Pendleton whiskey. At another time, he would have jumped on that easy prey. She smiled at him and showed off perfect white teeth. He thought of Ellie’s own smile and that one crooked incisor that made the bite marks she left all over his body uniquely hers.
He just nodded at her and stuck a twenty in the tip jar. And that’s when he saw her.
Ellie descended the staircase in a black lace dress that kissed the top of her thigh. Beneath the intricate lace was, he guessed, a nude slip of satin. If he was wrong, if it was nothing, she was basically naked.
