The Marine (Semper Fi; Marine)

by Cheryl Reavis

  This is what I am, Kinlaw.

  She lay down and reached for him, letting her hand brush over the black ink tattoo on his shoulder—Gothic letters she didn’t try to decipher. She saw immediately that his chest and arms were scarred in numerous places, “dinged up,” Peña and some of the other barely walking wounded had said of their similar wounds.

  “No talking,” Kinlaw whispered when she would have asked.

  She closed her eyes then and gave herself up to the sensation of his hands and mouth on her body. Sure hands. An urgent, needy mouth. He touched her as if he knew the where and the how of her.

  Where did you learn this? How many women did it take?

  But it didn’t matter. It never mattered in these kinds of situations where both the man and the woman only wanted their own needs met.

  She stopped thinking about any of that and shifted her body to accommodate his. She wanted him inside her, all the while knowing how much it mattered to her that he was the one here with her, like this.

  They moved together. She said his name, without meaning to, and his arms tightened around her. The pleasure was so intense in this strange new place where she had never been with her dead husband, so strong that when it finally peaked and ended, she lay in his arms and tried not to cry. It was all she could do not to cling to him and sob like some overgrown, abandoned child, and it had nothing to do with Trent or Sandra Kay.

  Nothing to do with anyone but herself.

  She had loved Trent, but she had never realized that this—this—was the way it was supposed to be between a man and a woman.

  After a long moment, she turned so she could see his face. His eyes were closed.

  “Don’t,” he said.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about what just happened.” He turned onto his side to face her and rested his hand on her hip. “I mean it. I’m going to try to give you what you want—no strings—whatever. But I . . .”

  “I don’t even know your middle name,” she said, suddenly afraid of what he was going to say.

  “It’s Wilson—my mother’s maiden name. My old man was hoping it would give him a bigger chunk of the estate when my grandfather died.”

  “Did it?”

  “No. He forgot to take into account that no man with a daughter that mistreated could overlook what a son of a bitch her husband was.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, water under the bridge, as they say.”

  “Where is he now—your father?”

  “Dead, I think.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No. I left when I was seventeen and never looked back. I would have left sooner, but I promised my mother I’d graduate from high school.”

  He moved away from her and sat on the side of the bed. She could decipher the black ink tattoo now: USMC.

  “What were you going to say? Before?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, but then he seemed to relent. “I think you’re going to break my heart, Mrs. James.” He looked at her and smiled, as if he was perfectly willing to let that happen. At first, the smile was just for her—an “I like you, I like the way you look, I like what we just did” kind of a smile, but then, for one brief moment, it slid into something else. It became very-pleased-with-himself male.

  She laughed softly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Yes, you were,” she said, grinning now.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she assured him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “BOOTCH! KID IN the parking lot asking for you!”

  Kinlaw didn’t hesitate. He left his beer sitting on the bar and went outside, knowing what—who—he would likely find.

  “Allison! What the hell! What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you, Sergeant Kinlaw.”

  “About?”

  “Some . . . things.”

  “You’ve got my cell number. You didn’t have to come here.”

  “I didn’t want to talk to you on the phone. This is the only place where you might be—except for the pier, and you weren’t there. So . . .”

  He gave a quiet sigh.

  “Allison, your mother is going to have a fit.”

  “I know. I didn’t come by myself. Lisa and Joe-B brought me. They’re right over there where they can see me.”

  Kinlaw looked in the direction she pointed. A car was parked at the edge of the road.

  Outstanding. Both daughters and Joe-B.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “About my mom and dad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you know things and because you’re the only person I want to ask. See, we thought—Lisa and me—we thought they were going to get a divorce, but then Dad died—”

  “Allison, stop. You need to talk to your mother about this, not me.”

  “No. It’ll upset her. She thinks we were clueless about what was going on with her and Dad. Josh said I could talk to you if I needed to—like I talked to him—when I didn’t want to worry my mom. Both of you are tough on the outside, but you listen, and I need somebody who listens. Even if . . .” She stopped and waited.

  He looked toward the parked car again. This time Lisa waved. He nodded in her direction.

  “I can’t talk to you about your mom’s situation with your dad. I don’t know anything, and even if I did, I wouldn’t. I mean it.”

  “I wanted to talk about . . . you, too.”

  “What about me?”

  “I want to know how much you like my mom.”

  “Allison, you’re getting on dangerous ground here—”

  “I already know you like her, Sergeant Kinlaw. I can tell because you look at her the same way Joe-B looks at Lisa. I just want to know how much.”

  “That’s . . . hard to say.”

  “Man, what a crappy answer,” she said, and he smiled in spite of himself.

  “It’s better than telling you it’s none of your damn business.”

  “But it is my business. My mom is still sad, Sergeant Kinlaw. I know you could help.”

  “You do.”

  “Yeah. You already have. We’ve got two certified babysitters at our house—Lisa and I both took the baby sitting course. Couldn’t you take Mom out for pizza or something sometime? Or riding on the Indian again? We could take care of Elizabeth for a couple of hours, no problem.”

  “How did you know about the Indian?”

  “My mom told me.”

  He was surprised by that revelation, but he didn’t say so.

  “Look. I have asked her out. She said no.” There was no way he could explain Grace’s “No Anything” rule—not to a kid like Allison and not when he didn’t really understand the reason for it himself. All he could do was abide by it.

  “Oh,” Allison said. Clearly, she hadn’t considered that possibility. “Did she say why?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe it’s because of Sandra Kay.”

  “How’s that going?”

  “I don’t know. Sandra Kay did something to hurt my mom and dad, so she can’t come around.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Sandra Kay did. But not what it was. And Mom said she’s not ready to talk about it. So we’re just . . . in the dark. Like always.” Allison looked at the ground, then up at him. “If my mom got out more, maybe she’d feel like talking to us. Couldn’t you ask her out again?”

  “Allison, complicated family stuff like whatever is going on with your mother and Sandra Kay is hard to work through. Some people never get past it. But you can’t go around trying to manipulate people because it’s not going as fas
t as you want it to. It just makes everything worse. Your mother is a strong woman. I think she can handle whatever she needs to. But you have to be patient and you have to stop doing things that just add to the worry pile.”

  She gave a heavy sigh. “I’m worried about Josh, too. More than usual, I mean.”

  “Why?”

  “I sent him an email—to tell him that Elizabeth was walking—she’s going everywhere now. He didn’t answer it. I know he would have if he’d gotten it, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” he said truthfully.

  “So what do you think is wrong?”

  “I think he’s on a mission, and he can’t answer right now.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Allison, if anything happens to him, they’ll let you know. Someone will call your mom—or he will himself. Or . . .”

  “Or somebody will come to the house if it’s really bad,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m scared for him, Sergeant Kinlaw.”

  “I know. But Josh is a good Marine. He knows what to do.”

  “Sometimes that’s not enough,” she said, her voice quivering. “Isn’t that right?”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Yes,” he said, because he didn’t want to lie to her. “But you have to trust that he’ll do the best he can. And you’ve got your job to do, too—taking care of Elizabeth for him.”

  “I’ve been emailing Angie,” she said.

  “Let me guess. Your mother doesn’t know anything about that, either.”

  “She . . . no. But I’m just telling Angie what Elizabeth is doing now,—like the walking and what words she says. Mom can’t know about it because she promised Josh she wouldn’t keep Angie in the loop. I didn’t promise, and I think she’d do it if she hadn’t promised. I just want Angie to know a little bit about what’s happening with Elizabeth. It’s awful when people won’t tell you stuff. So are you ever going to call my mom again or not?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Oh, great. I know what that means.”

  “It means you stay out of this, okay?”

  She didn’t answer him.

  “I mean it,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said with another sigh.

  “Good. Call me when you hear from Josh.”

  “You don’t have a wife or anything, do you? Because we don’t need that kind of trouble. My mom doesn’t, I mean. If you called her again.”

  “No wife,” he said.

  “Ever?” she asked bluntly.

  “Now,” he said.

  “What happened to her?”

  “Allison—”

  “I’d like to know, please,” she said politely, as if she were asking for an extra cookie instead of his marital track record.

  He gave a quiet exhalation of breath. She was her mother’s daughter. There was no doubt about that.

  “She couldn’t take being a military spouse. It wasn’t that she didn’t try. She did, for a long time. But it was just too hard for her, being alone all the time. So she left. She got married again. I didn’t.”

  “Kids?”

  “No kids.”

  “It’s just you, then.”

  “And some sisters and a brother.”

  “Where are they?”

  “All around the country. I don’t see them much. We scattered a long time ago.”

  “Sergeant Kinlaw—”

  “Allison, go on home now. I’m not going to tell your mother about this, but you need to, understood? If you don’t want to worry her, you need to stay straight with her.”

  “I’m just trying to help.”

  “If you want to help, stay in your own lane. Now go on home.”

  She stood for a moment. “Okay, but if . . .”

  “Go,” he said.

  He stood and watched her walk to the car. She gave him a little wave before she got in. He hadn’t changed his mind about Grace’s younger daughter. She would make one hell of a Marine—if she could stay out of the brig.

  “I miss your mother, kid,” he said as the car drove away.

  “I THINK YOU NEED to ground me, Mom.”

  Grace looked up from brushing Elizabeth’s hair, but she chose not to comment on the announcement. She wanted to cherish what few seconds of blissful ignorance she had left before she heard the reason for Allison’s bold opinion.

  “I went to see Sergeant Kinlaw. At the bar.”

  Grace bit down on her knee-jerk horrified mother’s response and clung to her ignorance just a second or two longer. She let Elizabeth have the hairbrush, and Elizabeth immediately dragged Grace’s hair down into her eyes with it.

  “Eeek! Can’t see!” Grace said, delighting briefly in Elizabeth’s giggle. “Why on earth would you do something like that again?” she asked Allison.

  “I wanted to talk to him about you and Dad.”

  “Allison!”

  “See? I told you I needed to be grounded.”

  “Well, what did he say?”

  “He said I couldn’t talk to him about you and Dad. I had to talk to you. I said you wouldn’t tell me. Mom, you said you’d answer questions the other day on the pier, but you didn’t mean it.”

  “I said you could ask whatever you wanted to. I didn’t say I’d answer everything. Sometimes a person just can’t answer things, because they don’t know what the answer is yet. Or because it hurts to talk about it.”

  “Is that why you won’t tell us what Sandra Kay did?”

  “Yes,” she said, picking up the hairbrush where Elizabeth had dropped it. She immediately became fascinated with it again, and Grace let her have it back.

  “Okay. I get that. I’ll just . . . wait, then.”

  “Did Sergeant Kinlaw say anything else?” Grace asked. She had no idea whether she’d managed to sound offhand.

  “Well, just a little bit about his wife.”

  “His wife?”

  “Yeah. His wife left him. She didn’t like being a military spouse, you know, because she had to be by herself so much. He said she tried really hard for a long time, but then she left. I guess it’s hard if you’re married and you’re not in the military, too. I don’t know, though. It didn’t work out for Josh and Angie. Anyway, she got married again, but Sergeant Kinlaw didn’t. He doesn’t have any kids, but he’s got some sisters and a brother. He never sees them, though. I don’t know if he’s sad about that or not. I’m pretty sure he’s sad about his wife and about not having kids. And he said he wouldn’t tell you I’d come looking for him at the bar, but he thought I should be straight with you and tell you, because it would make it easier for you. So I did. Mom?”

  “What?” Grace said, still a little dazed by Allison’s report.

  “I’m trying to be patient like Sergeant Kinlaw said, but I’d kind of like to know what’s going on with you and Sandra Kay. You know, as soon as you can.”

  “How did you get to the bar?” Grace suddenly asked.

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “I see. You’re taking one for the team, I guess.”

  “Yeah,” she said brightly, clearly liking that assessment of the situation. “That’s it. I’m taking one for the team.”

  “The other half of the team wouldn’t be out there in the hall with her ear pressed to the door, would she?”

  “Well, not . . . exactly . . . the other . . . half,” Allison said obscurely. She sat down on the floor and let Elizabeth play with her hair for a moment then got up again. “Mom, I’ll just go now. You can decide what you want to do to me.”

  “Very considerate of you.”

  “Oh. I forgot. Sandra Kay is downstairs.”

  “Allison!”

  “Well, I h
ad to tell you what I’d done. She said she’d wait her turn. Then I forgot.”

  “Well, take Elizabeth and get her a snack while I go see what she wants. And don’t let Lisa fall into the room when you open the door.”

  But Sandra Kay wasn’t downstairs. She was outside on the swing again. Grace hadn’t seen her since she’d followed Lisa and Allison to the fishing pier; she hadn’t been sure whether Sandra Kay was still in town or not. She certainly hadn’t expected to be notified of her departure.

  “Are you drinking again?” Grace asked bluntly because Sandra Kay looked terrible.

  “No,” she said. “But I want to.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Grace, I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

  “But you want something.”

  “Look! I know I did a terrible thing. I know that now, okay? I said I’m sorry. And for what it’s worth, for once in my life, I am. If I could fix it, I would. But I can’t. I just have to move on, or hang on, or . . . something.”

  Grace looked out toward the street. Old Mr. Strayer was walking his greyhounds. Very slowly.

  “I . . . hated you, you know,” Sandra Kay said quietly.

  “If I didn’t, I do now. What I don’t know is why.”

  “Grace, Grace, Grace. You were Goody Two-Shoes. You were the daughter I couldn’t be, no matter how hard I tried.”

  “Your mother loved you, you idiot. She always loved you, no matter how much trouble you got into. No matter what bird-brained thing you did.”

  “Yes, but she trusted you. With money. With her health. Everything. If she was sick, she wanted you to make the chicken soup. If she went to the doctor, she wanted you to take her. And she always wanted you to get her prescription filled. She never turned to me. Just you. Always you.”

  “Only because she thought you’d take the money for the prescription and buy a bus ticket to Denver.”