The Bed She Made

by Elicia Hyder

  “Let me tell you how this is going to go. If you scream, your parents are going to come running. Maybe they will even have that new baby girl of yours. I will blow their fucking heads off as soon as they open the door. Do you understand?”

  She feverishly nodded her agreement. He slowly removed his hand from her mouth and retrieved a gun from his waistband. He pressed it to her temple. “We are going to get into your car, and you're going to drive until I tell you to stop.”

  “You’ll never get away with this,” she said.

  He laughed. “With the widow of the hero with me? Yeah… I will.” His voice was so even and controlled that it sent chills through her.

  Just then, a small red compact sedan screamed into the driveway catching both of them by surprise. It screeched to a stop, angled in behind her car, and the front door flew open. It was David. Before Steven could react, David had his gun aimed from behind the car door, straight at them.

  “Drop the gun, Steven!” he warned.

  Steven laughed. “Look who it is… the guy who’s always been in my way.”

  “Let her go!” David demanded.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? She’s my ticket out of here.” Steven shouted. “You’d better think carefully about what you’re doing, Britton. I don’t have anything else to lose. And I promise you, Dave, I’ll put a bullet through her ear if you don’t move that car by the time I count to three.”

  “You so much as make her whimper, and you won’t have a chance to remember how to pull the trigger,” David threatened.

  Steven pressed the barrel hard against her skull. “You won’t do it. You won’t risk missing me and killing her.”

  “I’m a sniper. I don’t miss.”

  “I suggest you aim steady then,” Steven growled, ushering her forward a step. “One!” he challenged David. When David didn’t move, Steven forced another step.

  What are you waiting for! Journey screamed in her head.

  “Two!” Steven hissed.

  David’s arms flinched, catching Steven’s attention.

  “Three,” a cool voice came from behind them.

  Steven turned in surprise as a bullet exploded from her father’s rifle. Steven flew backwards at least two feet, toppling Journey to the ground with him. She clawed to get away and scrambled across the grass.

  Her father’s new Browning .30-06 was still smoking. Steven was struggling for breath. The blast had blown right through his chest, but no one moved to help him.

  David kicked Steven’s gun across the yard before he practically dove on top of Journey. She was shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Her hands were, once again, covered with blood. As she watched Steven desperately fighting to live, the disturbing truth occurred to her that for the second time in a week she was watching the life literally drain out of a man who had loved her.

  “Are you OK?” David asked, ripping her jacket open and checking her for wounds.

  She tried to slow her breathing. “Yeah, I’m OK.” She grasped his forearms in hopes of steadying her trembling body.

  Her father knelt down beside her. “Are you sure?” he asked, placing the rifle on the ground.

  “I’m sure.” Her teeth were chattering when she looked up at her dad. “Good shot.”

  Steven sputtered out blood and gurgled as he tried to cough. They all looked over to where he was bleeding onto the grass. Her father stood up and walked over toward him. He took a knee beside Steven’s convulsing body and leaned over him. “I warned you to never come around my house again.”

  · · ·

  Steven Drake died on the front lawn before the paramedics or the police even arrived. Curtis had been among the first of the officers to respond. He called the coroner when he couldn’t find Steven’s pulse. Journey sat wrapped in David’s coat on the front porch swing with Elena while her father and David relayed the events of the nightmare to the police.

  David crossed the yard and joined them on the porch. He looked like he had aged a decade since the funeral. He pointed back to the swarm of emergency responders. “Your dad has to go down to the police station to make a formal statement, but I don’t think it will take too long.” He looked at Elena. “I’ve got to take Norm’s car back to the gas station. Do you think your boyfriend could follow me and bring me back?”

  Elena nodded. “Yeah, absolutely,” she said and went into the house.

  David sat down and put his arm around Journey’s shoulders. “How are you?”

  She sighed. “I think my brain is still trying to catch up.”

  “I know what you mean.” He was drawing circles on her arm with his finger. “Your dad asked me to hang out here for a while because he doesn’t know how long they are going to keep him at the station. I hope that’s OK.”

  She nodded. “Is Dad in trouble?”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s just a formality whenever anyone is shot and killed.”

  “OK,” she said. “Why didn’t you shoot Steven?”

  “I saw your dad had a clear shot behind him. If he hadn’t been there, I would’ve put him down before he got you to the car. I just didn’t want to take the chance if I didn’t have to.”

  She cut her eyes over at him. “You’re a sniper?”

  He grinned and looked away. “Yeah. Don’t tell anybody.”

  “That’s badass.”

  He hugged her, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Derek came onto the porch holding his keys. “Are you ready to go now?” he asked.

  David nodded his head. “Yeah.” He looked down at Journey. “Why don’t you go get your pajamas on and start settling down. If I crash here, do you think you can take me to the airport in the morning?”

  Her stomach tightened, but she nodded. “Of course.”

  “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  “Hurry.” She sighed as he stood up.

  He studied her for a moment, then leaned down and pressed a kiss into her hair. “I promise.”

  When David was gone, Journey’s mother came outside and handed her a cup of steaming hot tea. “Here. This will help settle your nerves,” she said.

  “I hope it has Valium in it,” Journey said, accepting the cup.

  Carol settled in the swing beside her and gently rested her head against Journey’s. “Are you alright?” she asked.

  Journey stared out into the spectacle of flashing lights in the driveway. “Do you think I’ve finally gotten all that I deserve? That maybe, now, all of this hell is over with?”

  Her mother pulled back with surprise. “All that you deserve?” she asked.

  Journey motioned to where they were zipping up the body bag on the lawn. “I can’t shake the feeling that this is somehow the back end of ‘what goes around, comes around.’ I mean, no matter what you say to try and make me feel better, my mistakes set all of this into motion years ago.”

  Carol grasped her daughter’s hand. “Journey, look at me.”

  Journey’s gaze slowly turned to her mother.

  Carol’s eyes were tired but brimming with a wide range of emotions. “You listen to me very carefully,” she began. “We’ve all made terrible choices and mistakes in our lifetimes that we can’t undo or take back. But, Journey, it’s time for you to forgive yourself and let that part of your past go. Your mistakes do not define who you are as a person. They define who you are not.”

  Journey curled into her mother and wept against her shoulder. “I love you, Mom.”

  Carol kissed her cheek. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

  · · ·

  Steven Drake no longer being a threat was the one and only thing that made David feel remotely better when Journey and her parents walked him to the terminal at the airport.

  “I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Carol told him with tears in her eyes at the entrance to the security checkpoint.

  He dropped his carryon bag on the floor. “You and me both,” he agreed. Emotion was pooling in the pit of his stomach. He hugged J
ourney’s mother and kissed her cheek. “Save me some sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving,” he said with a wink.

  She blushed.

  Randall Durant extended his hand, and David welcomed it. Instead of just shaking it, her father pulled him into a tight embrace. “You are welcome with us anytime, David. I hope we will see you again soon.”

  David smiled as he felt her father’s hand squeeze his shoulder. He released him and nodded. “You’ll see me again.”

  David’s eyes fell on Journey.

  Randall cleared his throat. “Journ, we’ll meet you in the lobby. David, Happy New Year,” he said.

  David smiled. “Happy New Year.”

  As Randall ushered Carol back to the entrance, David turned back to Journey. He carefully tried to memorize everything about her: her boot cut blue jeans over a pair of clunky black boots; her fitted Pink Floyd t-shirt and Army-green jacket; her long, blond hair and purple fingernails. She was the exact same girl he had fallen for in Geometry class, just a little more grown up and with a lot more hair.

  “Come here,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her close.

  After a long moment, that could never be long enough, she pulled away. “When do you leave for Afghanistan?”

  He thought for a moment. “Next Thursday,” he answered.

  “Please be safe.”

  He cupped her face in his hands and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “Always,” he said.

  She took a deep breath and swiped her sleeve across her face. “You have to go before I never let you leave.”

  He wanted to kiss her.

  As if reading his mind, she looked down and took his left hand. She pulled it up and examined his wedding ring in the fluorescent light. “Tell Allie that I asked her to forgive you for coming here, but that I’m not sorry that you did.”

  David broke and cried in front of her. She pulled him close and held him in her arms. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  She pulled his hand up and kissed his knuckles. A silver ring sparkled on her thumb. He realized that she meant for him to see it. “And you never will,” she said with a smile.

  He pulled her head to his chest again and lingered as he pressed his lips against her hair. She still used coconut shampoo. “I love you more than life itself,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too,” she said.

  24

  The Blue Bridesmaid

  Allie had met David at the airport when he arrived home on New Year’s Day, and he was able to smooth things over with her in the week before he left with his unit for Afghanistan. She seemed genuinely concerned about his best friend back in Georgia which had, for him, been a step in the right direction. He had called Journey from the plane when it landed and once again before he left the country. She seemed to be doing OK, all things considered. She was thinking of selling her house and moving to the lake. She gave off the impression that she wasn’t going to wallow in misery forever, and for that he was grateful. He hadn’t been able to communicate with her, or anyone else, while he was gone.

  “So, do you think you’re going to re-enlist?” David’s commanding officer, Kody Vickers, asked as they packed up after their last session of debriefing back on the base in Washington.

  David had pondered that question during every down moment of their six-month mission. He had signed up for six years, and it was nearing the time for him to reevaluate his future. He shrugged his shoulders and zipped his bag closed. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. I’ve got to talk it over with my wife before I decide.”

  Vickers nodded his head. “Yeah.” He nudged David with his elbow. “Gotta ask the General.”

  David’s deployments didn’t get the pomp and circumstance of regular units. His homecoming was quiet and unannounced, which he appreciated after spending months on end wandering the mountains of Afghanistan and trying not to get shot. His uneventful arrival also allowed for him to be husband-of-the-year and surprise his wife whenever he returned. She wasn’t expecting him for another week, and he hadn’t told her any different. On his drive home, he picked up flowers at the supermarket, along with a six-pack and steaks for the grill. It was summertime, and all he wanted was a hug and kiss, a hot uninterrupted shower, and a beer.

  Instead, there was an unfamiliar truck parked in his spot when he pulled into his driveway.

  He knew what was coming before he even walked into his house, but it didn’t lessen the shock of another man asleep in bed with his wife. The irony of the sight disturbed him even more than the reality of it. It was true that he had made a lot of mistakes in his relationship with Allie, but none that warranted this.

  Rather than wake the blissful couple, David dropped the flowers in the bedroom doorway and backed slowly out of the house. He slammed the front door hard enough to take it off its hinges and got into his truck. He pulled out of the driveway as the front curtains shifted, and Allie peeked outside.

  For three days, he dodged Allie’s phone calls and ignored her text messages. Vickers let him move into his guest room while he decided what he was going to do. He wasn’t overly surprised that Allie figured out where he was staying, but he was absolutely shocked that she had the guts to show up at Vickers’ doorstep.

  “Hey,” she said timidly when he finally opened the door. She had a stack of mail in her arms.

  He just folded his arms across his chest.

  “Can I come in?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied, void of emotion.

  “I’m sorry everything happened the way it did.” She looked down at the bundle in her arms rather than into his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you when you got back. I wasn’t expecting you to show up early.”

  He smirked. “Clearly.”

  She brought her eyes up to meet his. “I filed for divorce last month,” she said.

  Her words rolled over him like a tank. “You did what?”

  She sighed and shifted on her feet. “David, I really admire your determination to honor your commitment, I do. But I don’t want to be with someone who wants to be with someone else. You’re too honorable to call this what it is and do what needs to be done, so I did it.”

  He realized his mouth was hanging open.

  She reached out and handed him a business card. “This is my lawyer. I can either have you served or you can go to her office and sign the paperwork. I don’t want anything from you, so there shouldn’t be anything to fight about. I don’t see any reason for you to get a lawyer or anything. I’ve already opened my own checking account and had my direct deposit changed. All of your money is accounted for. I’ve just been splitting the rent on the house between us.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “This is what you want?”

  She nodded. “Yes. And we both know it’s what you really want too.”

  He looked at her carefully. “Allie, I never cheated on you.”

  She nodded. “I know. I believe that you never broke our marriage vows. I just don’t think you should have ever said them to me to begin with.”

  Her words stung, but he couldn’t deny their validity.

  Before she turned to leave, she offered him the stack of mail. “Don’t just throw this stuff on a table somewhere; there’s a letter from Emerson in there.”

  And then she was gone.

  · · ·

  Journey realized very quickly that the only way to recover from the tragic death of a spouse was to just keep on living. Once she was able to do more than simply will herself out of bed each morning, she made it a goal to do one thing—anything—each day to keep moving forward. She started small, like making her bed each morning. Then after a few days she got out and went grocery shopping. After that, she went to the movies with Kara. Before she knew it, she had moved back home and had begun the long process of packing up her old life. Things would never feel the same in that house without Marcus, and it was too painful waking up there each morning with nothing but his memory.

  The house sold in six weeks, and she used t
he money to purchase the lake house from her parents. Her mother reasoned that they didn’t need it, but her father wasn’t willing to let it go too far from his possession. It turned out to be a win-win situation for everyone. Some of her best memories in life had happened there—happy memories, albeit rebellious ones. It seemed like the best place to start a new life without packing up and running away. Looking back, she found it amusing that running away had only led her so definitively back home again.

  At the end of February, she went to Cozumel, Mexico with Kara. Marcus would have wanted her to. It was there that Kara asked her if they could have the wedding at the lake, and Journey couldn’t offer the use of her new home fast enough. It was beyond time to make some new and joyful memories. She hadn’t been that happy since Christmas.

  She hadn’t heard from David since he had gotten back from Afghanistan, other than a short email telling her he was home and very busy. He promised he would be in touch when life slowed down a bit. He asked her to pray for him, which she did every single day.

  Kara’s wedding came at the end of summer. After five months of being treated like Kara’s paper doll, Journey was exhausted. For months, she had been forced into more satin dresses and ridiculous high heels than she could count. Journey was convinced that the only reason Kara had chosen her for her maid of honor was for the sheer enjoyment of torturing her. It was like high school prom all over again. However, on the morning of the wedding, even Journey thought she looked pretty spectacular standing in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom.

  Her dress was short and sleeveless and molded to her body like she had been dipped into it. The waist was gathered at the side with a simple rhinestone cluster. The fabric was, what Kara referred to as, ‘atomic turquoise’. Translated, it was a summery blue with a hint of shimmer to it.

  Journey’s hair was even more beautiful than the dress. Kara had curled it, loosely braided several pieces, and then tied it all up behind her head. She secured a cream colored flower in the side and left a few wispy pieces around her face. Journey, however, insisted on the final touch of adding one defined streak of ‘atomic turquoise’ hair dye.