by Hilary Storm
I watch him. He has aged some since I left. Gray covers his head, and the rough stubble on his face excels with age as well. He’s still strikingly handsome, in shape, and the best dad a girl could ask for.
He eventually leans in closer to me and asks why I haven't called home. I’ve had my feet tucked under me, watching him and the game in silence, but his words snap me upright, and tears instantly well in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, dad, mom.” I shift my head to look at her. "I should've called. I just...."
“We're sorry too, honey. We're all to blame for the past few years, and I won’t have you taking all the blame. You need to know that your dad and I are very proud of you." Her words cause more tears to fall, and I just watch as she stands to say what she's obviously been thinking about saying as we sat there without a word between us all. She walks closer to me and stands face-to-face as she continues softly.
"Look at what you’ve done with your life. You set out as a child to fulfill a dream, and you have succeeded. How can any two parents who love their daughter as much as we do not be proud of that?” My mom looks me in the eyes and smiles. Her smile is genuine and kind. It’s the greatest thing I’ve seen in a long time, and her words mean more than she'll ever know.
“It’s true. Hell, I brag about you all the time to the guys at the restaurant. Every morning over coffee and those chocolate-covered glazed donuts you used to love. None of the bastards have a thing on my ass. My daughter’s in The Special Forces.”
“You’ve followed my career,” I say, stunned as I watch my father stand as well.
“Of course we have. Shit, Jade. We love you so much. I don't want us to dwell on the past. Not with the future that lies ahead of us, and not with these Marlins kicking some ass today.” I run my finger down the condensation on the glass bottle of my beer, hiding the laugh or the rest of the tears that want to burst out of me.
My mom wraps her arms around me and pulls me back toward the couch. We sit and enjoy the game for a few more minutes before she asks who needs another beer. I follow her to the kitchen, while my father stays behind. "Maybe we can spend a day together soon, just the two of us women." She's smiling the largest smile I can imagine from her. She looks truly at peace and happy right now, and I wonder how she hides it so well. She has to hurt still, because I do.
"I'd like that, mom." I sit on the bar stool and watch as she wipes down every already clean counter and wrings out the rag in the sink.
"We could go shopping. Do you know how long it's been since I've bought clothes for myself?" I can only imagine. She never was one to fuss over herself. She raised all of us kids, making sure we had what we needed before she even thought of spending a dime on herself. Of course, my father came before her as well.
"Only if you let me treat you."
"Nonsense, Jade. Honestly, I just want to know that you're ok. You don't know how many times I've practiced what I'd say to you if I ever had the chance."
"Mom. I know." She has to know I've thought the same way. The way our last conversation ended had me dreading this, and I'm not too sure the years away weren’t exactly what we all needed. Jason never would've suggested it, but he didn't really have that choice.
"I went to his grave before I stopped here." She stops moving and stands with her back to me.
"I go every single day."
"I figured you did." She starts to retrace her pattern on the counters, it's how she deals with pain; she cleans and stays distracted as if it'll all go away if she never stops.
"Just tell me you won't follow in his footsteps all the way to the end, Jade. I just can't take it again." Her words choke me up, and I struggle to get my own past the huge lump in my throat.
"Mom, I won't. I promise." My words are a promise I fully plan to keep, but we both know the casualties of this career aren't always during a war on enemy territory. Sometimes the worst war is the one we have in our heads after we come back home. My brother battled with a decision he made for about six months before he chose to end the fight.
"Please just give me this, Jade, tell me you'll come to me before it gets that bad. Tell me you'll let me help you if you ever think like that. I can't bury a second child. It's your job to bury me." I know where she's coming from. I watch her through my own tears again and nod my head as soon as she finally looks up at me through her own. She sees my pain. I know she does, and the strength behind her hug when she wraps me up again in her arms tells me just that.
"Now that's enough crying. This is supposed to be a happy time. We should go to dinner or something. Let me call your brothers and see if they can make it in tonight."
"Mom, can we just stay in? You can tell them tomorrow I'm back and plan something next week. I just really want to spend time with you and dad right now." She smiles and moves to the refrigerator. She begins to talk as she pulls things out of the freezer for dinner.
"How does steak sound?"
"Perfect. I think I'm going to take a long, hot shower if you don't mind."
"Of course, Jade. You know where your room is." I slide off the bar stool and move down the hall, closing my eyes tightly as I pass Jason's room, swallowing the memories flooding my head as I do. It's strange to feel the strong pull to his room when I pass, but I know I'm not ready for that.
I let the hot water burn my skin and make the hurt inside dissipate just slightly as it does. I wish more than anything that I could talk to Jason right now about where my head is at. He would understand more than anyone; he's lived it. He knows what it's like to kill a child; after all, it consumed him for the last months of his life as he tried to overcome it and failed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JADE
Three beers and a few chocolate chip cookies down, and a breakfast date arranged with my dad before the night ends, give me a good feeling with both of my parents. A shower that lasted a half hour was exactly what I needed despite the soreness still in my arm. I have my mom help me wrap it, and I’m very proud of her for not asking any questions she knows I won’t be able to answer. It’s not an obvious bullet graze, but it is apparent I was hurt out there. I just wish the true ache in my head would disappear and the heaviness I’m carrying around in my heart would go away by the time this wound heals.
I’m climbing into my old twin bed, ready to succumb to sleep, when my text messages go off. Harris is finally getting back with me, and before I have the chance to reply to his second text, he’s calling me.
No ‘Hello Jade, how are you feeling?’ Just good ole Harris getting straight to the point.
To be honest¸ I’m thankful he isn’t trying to coddle me. Or become all possessive. I’m even more grateful we didn’t cross over that unwritten line of friendship. We came damn close, too close actually. It may have ruined the friendship I cherish too much and made things awkward.
“Do you want me to pick you both up on Friday?” he offers, and honestly, the thought of him dealing with most of the driving sounds nice. Mallory and I won’t be able to cut completely loose, but I’m sure they’ll get along well enough to make the weekend trip.
“Sure. What exactly are your plans for Alabama, Harris?”
“Absolutely fucking nothing. I want to just be free in the damn US of A for a damn minute without an itinerary or schedule to follow.”
“Sounds damn perfect. What time do you plan to head out?”
“I’ll head your way that morning, so say… around three o’clock I’ll be by to get you both.”
“We’ll be packed.”
“Hey.” The line goes silent as I wait for him to continue.
“Yeah.”
“You okay?” His voice is truly sincere, and I can feel his warmth through the phone. Well, there goes that thought from moments ago. He means well. I know he does. I’ll touch lightly on the subject with him. I will be okay and his concern warms me. I’ve been entirely wrapped up in my career for so long that for once I need to put myself first, especially now that I’m home where I can deal with
this my own way. Because when you're out there fighting, it’s not only you, it’s an entire team. We all depend on each other.
“I’m working on it.” He knows it, there’s no use hiding it from him. This man has been my shadow and vice versa for months. When you work that closely with someone, you get to know what they’re thinking and feeling. Plus, I’m sure my situation in itself warrants his concern.
“Alright. I’ll talk to you Friday. Bring your shit kickers, you’re going to need them.”
“I don’t own shit kickers, Harris.” I should’ve known his country ass would have me doing some insane stuff that will most likely involve us getting into shit. Literally.
“Go buy some.” He hangs up. Fucker. Shit kickers, my ass. I place my phone back on the nightstand and connect it to my charger before I switch off the light. Every part of my body is physically and mentally drained to the point that I don’t remember a damn thing after I roll over onto my side and sleep for eight hours straight for the first time in at least a month.
~~~~
“Alright, you win. I’ll take the box of donuts and dinner next week at your favorite Irish Pub, dad. You do know though I’m going to have to work out extra hard for eating these donuts.” The way he looks at me, and his damn eye is twitching, I know he’s coming back with a smartass comment.
“Do me a favor and use those muscles you have to knock your brother Jeremy in the water. He’s still cocky as hell. A good ass-whooping is what he needs.” I slide the box of donuts and my small bag into the back seat of my car, laughing. Jeremy will never change. His mouth has gotten him into more trouble than any other person I know.
“I’ll do my best. Maybe pay him back for all the things he did while we were growing up. Thanks for everything, dad,” I say seriously.
“Anything for you, Jade. You have a great time this weekend.” He pulls me into his arms. I could stay wrapped up in him forever, but I need to go. I’ve had a great time with my parents these last few days. Shopping with my mom, lunch and a much needed mani/pedi, which will probably be ruined by the time Harris has me cleaning up pig shit with these damn shit kickers I have on my feet. These things are hideous. It should be fun though; laughing is exactly what I need.
My idea of fun is not rolling around in shit, but hey, after talking to my doctor on the phone yesterday and getting clearance to go back to active duty when I'm called, I probably should live a little and experience things outside of work before I'm back at it. I worked really hard to make the doctor believe I was ok. Deep down I'm dealing with it, but it's something I need to work out on my own. A trip like this will give me more time to process it all.
“Drive safe, baby girl.” After pulling away from dad, I’m enthralled by my mom’s arms. A tear escapes my eye by the time she lets me go. This time, it’s a happy tear.
I enjoy the drive to my apartment and take the time to reflect on everything that’s been heavy on my shoulders. Killing that child. Kaleb. Jason. My parents. It truly feels great to have at least one area of my life taken care of somewhat, but the others are enough to cause my gut to wrench in pain just thinking about them. I wonder if Kaleb is extremely pissed that I left him like I did. One day, I’ll find him and apologize. I think he’ll understand I needed me time to process my living nightmare.
“Well, fuck me. Is that really my roommate? My best friend?” Mallory damn near mauls my ass when I step through the door of our apartment.
“I should be the one asking you that. You dyed your hair. Shit, Mallory. I love it. It brings out the green in your eyes.” Damn, she looks great. Her normal long, blond hair is dark brown, framing her face.
“I do too. I needed a change. You look good too, and you have about fifteen minutes to pack before this friend of yours shows up. He better be as hot as you say he is or I’ll personally kick your ass. Nice boots by the way.” Harris texted me earlier this morning, stating he would pick us up around one o’clock. It’s a little over a six-hour drive to get to Sterett, Alabama, where his ranch is.
“Did you pack yours?” I reply sarcastically, knowing damn well she did. She may be from the city, but I can’t count the times she’s talked me into going to a country bar so she can line dance while I sit and laugh my ass off at the way she shakes her ass on that floor.
“Dumb question. Now go pack. I’m thirsty for a good throttle from a cowboy. Do you think he has a whip?” Her eyes light up when she asks that. Christ. I hope she’s joking. Well, maybe not. The thought of her and Harris hooking up would be great for the two of them. It might even keep him occupied, get his mind off of drilling me about Kaleb Maverick. I inwardly sigh, knowing damn well whether they hook up or not, he’s going to want answers. Answers I can’t give him, because hell, I don’t even know myself. I can’t count the times I’ve picked up my phone over the past few days to call him just to hear his voice, only to toss my phone aside. A part of me wants to wait and see if he will reach out to me, to know if the things he said to me were true, if he wants to try and make this work, while the other part of me is scared out of my mind.
“I’m sure he has anything you need, Mal. Just don’t break his heart,” I tease and saunter into my room. It looks exactly the way I left it. Except for the suitcase on top of the bed Mallory must have retrieved out of my closet. I drop my bag on the floor and make my way to my closet, pulling down a few sleeveless shirts and bending down to grab my favorite pair of pink Converse that are battered and worn. No way in hell am I spending the entire weekend in these damn boots. After grabbing a few pair of shorts and my favorite matching lace bra and panties along with the rest of the things I need, I’m packed and ready to go, just in time for the doorbell to ring.
“Hey. You must be Mallory?” I hear Harris’ deep voice ask.
“Um. I am. Harris, right?” I wait just inside my bedroom door. My hand flies to my mouth to stifle my laugh. I warned her he was hot. Now, for the first time since I’ve known her, she’s flustered. I can tell by the tone of her voice.
“It’s Beau actually. Everyone in the Army calls me Harris. You ladies ready?” Damn, Harris. I can feel his smoothness through these walls.
“All set.” I walk out of my room, towing my suitcase behind me. Mal turns around to face me, her mouth hitting the floor. Yeah, he got to her.
“Jesus Christ. You look, well fuck. You look totally different, Elliott. You clean up good.”
“You do too, cowboy. Let’s hit the road. My shit-kickers are ready for some shit.” I lift my leg to show off my nice, new, ugly boots.
“I’ll have you both pros at shoveling horse shit by the end of the weekend,” he remarks, taking my suitcase from my hand and grabbing the handle of Mal’s.
“After you,” he says all gentleman-like. I roll my eyes when he tilts his head to the side and stares at Mal’s ass in her tight short-shorts when she walks by.
“Pervert,” I whisper.
“She has a nice ass. What the fuck can I say?” He shrugs.
“Say whatever you want. Just gag her, she’s a screamer.” I nudge him. She’s not a screamer. More like a moaner. I’m not going to tell him any differently though.
Setting our alarm and locking up behind me, I follow them down the corridor and onto the sidewalk only to come to a screeching halt when he stops by the biggest black truck I have ever seen. Maybe I don’t know this man like I thought I did. This is a country boy's truck for damn sure.
“Don’t say a damn thing, Elliott. Trust me, I would much rather be in my Mustang,” he says when he notices the shocked expression on my face.
“Whatever you say, cowboy.”
“And knock it off with the cowboy shit.” He raises his brows, and I burst out laughing. God, it feels good to laugh. The smile on my face fades when I see the Jeep parked on the street right in front of my house. It's Kaleb. I'd recognize that Jeep anywhere.
I don't waste any time marching straight to his door, yanking it open, and unleashing on him. “So now you're fucking stalking me
? Kaleb, you have to learn fucking boundaries. You can't just show up in front of my house and watch me. You don't think I'll see your goddamn Jeep when you park directly in front of my house?” He has already stepped out of his Jeep and slammed the door. He has turned so that my back is against the side of the truck, and fuck if he hasn't already smashed his hard body against mine. My deep breaths hit him in the face as he just watches me closely.
“What were you saying?” Fuck if I know, because when he's near me, I can't do logic, especially when he's this close. My mind starts the insanity of wanting to touch him even though the reason I'm over here is to tell his ass off.
“I was saying…. You can't just watch me.”
“Oh, but Jade. Watching you is exactly what I want to do. Your perfect skin…” He moves his hand down my arm, sending chills all over my body. How does he do this to me? My mind was so clear from the few days at my parents’ house, now I can't even put him in his fucking place.
Our eyes are locked. His other hand begins to slide down my other arm, skipping slightly as he covers my wrap. I let my eyes fall to his chest and watch as it rises with each breath he takes.
I swallow hard and finally speak. “It's fucked up, Kaleb. I can't deal with fucked up. I need something normal. I don't want to worry that you're tracking me and watching my every fucking move.” A smirk lands on his face, and I watch him contemplate his next sentence.
“Jade, I was simply stopping by to check on you. That is it. I haven't heard from you since you ran from my bed. I know you have shit you're dealing with, and I'm just worried about you. But if I ever wanted to track you, I could.”
“I know you could, and I don't want that shit in my life. If we’re going to see each other at all, you have to leave the technology to the level of normal people, Kaleb. I'm not kidding. A cell phone or email, that's it.”
