Changing the Wild Card
Plans change. Resilience gets you through! ~From the Deployment Survival Journal of Pete “Rabbit” Kincaid
He shouldn’t have come. They’d made arrangements for an outing on Sunday, and he should have left it at that. Rabbit slowed and made the turn onto the side street leading to the Tidewater. The morning’s overcast threatened to linger all day, but the weather reports weren’t calling for rain.
He smirked. Right. So a fifty-fifty chance of showers.
Well, maybe he’d get there and discover they weren’t home, making it all moot. He cut left in the motel parking lot, and there was the little blue car, backed into the space as usual.
Were the boxes still stashed inside? Or had she taken them out and begun packing up? He parked one space over, well in view of the window so she could easily look out and see who was knocking. And because he knew she might have heard his car and already be looking out, he deliberately did not look into her car to check for the packing boxes, even though wondering about it was killing him. With the basketball tucked under his left arm, he lightly tapped three times on the door.
It only took a few heartbeats before the door was slowly opened and Lin appeared in the opening
“I know I’m intruding, but—”
She laid one hand against his chest and stepped out, pushing him a couple of steps backward with the motion. “Shh!”
“Good…” He lifted his sunglasses for a better look. Dark hair spiked wildly in all directions and on her right, she had a tangle fit for rats to nest in. Normally fair skin had a nearly fluorescent glow in the midmorning sunlight. All except for the purplish smears beneath her bloodshot eyes. “…ness! What happened to you?”
Shielding her eyes against the sun, Lin squinted up at him. “JR didn’t sleep a wink last night. Which means I didn’t either.” She shrugged. “I’ll be okay.”
It was only typical concern that set Rabbit’s heart into frantic pounding. “Is he ill?”
“No, no. Everything’s fine. Just sometimes JR’s sleep pattern goes wonky. It’s pretty normal for the age.”
“Is he sleeping now?”
“Yes, Nate performed a miracle while I was working.” Lin yawned. “I was just trying to catch a little sleep myself before the next round.”
Once he knew everything was okay, Rabbit could admit to a little disappointment. Not much chance of persuading her to go on an outing to the park from the look of things.
“Are we still on for tomorrow?” she asked, sending him a weak smile.
“Yeah! Yeah, if you’re sure you’ll be recovered by then.”
“I plan to make sure of it.” Faint pink flooded her cheeks. “Got my energy bars and caffeinated drinks all lined up.”
“Well, ah…” Rabbit backed up another step. “I was planning to suggest a trip to Wilson’s Bend but I’ll let you—”
“Wait!” Lin laid her fingertips on his forearm.
Instant awareness shot rockets from his arm to the rest of him.
Her lips trembled with words she seemed to be having a hard time forming. Finally she drew a deep breath and blurted, “Would — would you be okay taking Nate?”
It was all Rabbit could to do remain upright. She was offering for him to go off with one of her children?
“He’s been really cooped up here and he slept last night. After I got him off the computer.” She chuckled weakly. Then she squeezed Rabbit’s arm. “I know it’s asking a lot, but if you only give him a couple of hours—”
“Okay.” Rabbit nodded, eager to help in any way he could. “If he wants to go.”
Lin chuckled and dropped her hand. “Don’t move. I guarantee you’ll have company in two minutes or less. Just — take care of him. Please.” If he hadn’t already been picking up on clues of trouble, Rabbit might have dismissed the emotion choking her voice.
Raising her finger in a wait-a-minute gesture, she stepped back into the room.
Sixty seconds later, the door opened again, and Nate bounded outside. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
Rabbit spun the basketball and flipped it toward the kid. He made a fast catch with his right hand and then ran the ball over the back of his neck to switch it to his left. Rabbit’s lip tugged up on one side. He might just find himself outmatched.
“Wanna play some one-on-one at Wilson’s Bend?”
Nate cast a quick glance over his shoulder toward the window, where Lin stood watching them. She smiled and waved him off.
“Sure!” Nate bounced the basketball a couple of times, then bounce-passed it back to Rabbit with an easy grin. “Think you can take me?”
A burst of laughter bubbled in Rabbit’s throat as he tossed the ball back. “I think you’re likely to wipe the court with me.” He stepped to his car and pulled open the door. No need to make certain Nate followed — he was already there.
“Where did you learn to play B ball?” asked Rabbit as they left the motel behind.
“Uncle Jeff taught me, after my dad died in—” The kid stiffened and clamped his mouth shut. A moment later, he drew a shaky breath. “A long time ago.”
Point taken, talking about Dad’s off limits. Though curiosity burned in his gut, Rabbit wouldn’t grill the boy about his family. Lin had trusted him with her oldest son, and he didn’t plan to abuse that trust.
“Have you ever been to Afghanistan?” asked Nate.
Rabbit jerked in surprise then blew out a slow breath as his heart rate calmed. That line of questioning had been sudden. And he didn’t want to talk about it any more than the kid had wanted to talk about his dad. Stuff it! The kid obviously had something on his mind.
“Yea-ah…” replied Rabbit, schooling his expression and striving for an even tone. “Three tours, in fact. And one in Iraq.”
Nate swallowed, the sound audible over the soft jazz emanating from the car speakers. “What did— What did you do there?” He glanced at Rabbit but then returned to staring straight out the windshield.
What hadn’t he done might be a shorter answer. And certainly a more palatable one. “Oh… different things. Some I can talk about, some I can’t. I worked Recon.” He flicked a look at the kid before returning his gaze to the road ahead. “You know what that is?”
The kid sat taller in his seat. “Force Recon. It’s special operations.” He grew more animated. “You went after the really bad guys?”
Despite his unease, Rabbit chuckled. “Yeah, kid. I went after the really bad guys. But I didn’t do it alone.”
“Did you—” He swallowed again. “Did you ever shoot anyone?”
The searing agony that blazed through Rabbit’s chest wasn’t a heart attack, wasn’t even truly happening, he knew. He struggled to contain his emotional reaction but couldn’t quite keep the strangled quality from his words. “Yeah… I did.”
“W-were you ever shot?” The tremor in the boy’s voice might have been mistaken for excitement by anyone who hadn’t been to war or known someone who’d returned from a war zone.
Rabbit spun the wheel and entered the little community park. He didn’t answer until he brought the car to a stop and killed the ignition. Then he twisted in his seat to get a better look at the kid.
A troubled expression came over Nate’s face. “Mom says I ask too many questions.”
Mention of Lin broke through the black cloud overshadowing Rabbit’s tumbling feelings, and he sighed. “Nah… it’s okay if you ask questions.” He shrugged, feigning nonchalance he’d never feel about the subject. “Just sometimes the questions are hard to answer. I’ll be as honest as I can, okay?”
Nate gave one curtailed nod and then just sat regarding Rabbit with serious, silver-blue eyes. So like his mother’s. But what was his fascination with shooting and being shot? Only one way to find out… as unpalatable as that option was.
“I have. Been shot, that is.” The scar in his left shoulder began to ache, forcing Rabbit to concentrate on not rubbing it away. It’s not real pain. “And I’ve been hit by debris in an explosion.” He couldn’t stop himself from touching his right side. The hot-cold-numb combo along his ribs would serve as a constant reminder, it seemed.
“Did it…” The kid shrugged and looked down, dragging one finger along the edge of the leather seat. With a suddenness that made Rabbit’s heart almost leap from his chest, Nate brought his head up. “Did it hurt a lot?”
Rabbit clenched his jaw to keep from flinching at the question. “You ever smash your thumb with a hammer?”
Nate shook his head.
“Stub your toe?”
Again, the boy shook his head. “Mom makes me wear shoes all the time.”
Of course she did. And that would be a good thing, right? Rabbit rubbed the back of his neck. How was he supposed to explain pain to a kid who’d apparently never felt any?
“A nail got shot into my hand once,” offered the boy, holding out his left hand. “My friend Sean and I found it in his garage, and he thought it would be cool to shoot stuff with it.”
The round puckered scar wasn’t huge and it wasn’t terribly recent. Maybe a couple of years old. Though he longed to rub his thumb over the skin, to somehow smooth the injury away, Rabbit just nodded.
“Yeah… getting shot hurts. Maybe a little more than that probably did.” No need to go into too much detail.
Nate studied Rabbit’s face as if trying to determine the truth in the words. Satisfaction seemed to creep into his expression, and finally he nodded. Then he pulled the door handle and slid out of the car, basketball in hand, muttering something under his breath.
Rabbit stared after the kid. He couldn’t have heard him right. He had not just mumbled “good.” Or had he?
Rabbit scrambled out of the car and followed the sound of the basketball as Nate dribbled toward the half-court. Apparently, the conversation was over. What in the world had it been about?
On the court, Nate raced toward the hoop. When he was beneath the basket, he leaped into the air and performed a neat layup against the board. His taller-than-average height seemed to help him get his feet off the ground.
“Hey, kid!” Rabbit pushed his mouth into a grin and trotted toward the court. About halfway there, he realized the grin was no longer forced.
* * * *
Lin stared up at the shadows chasing across the ceiling as the air conditioner wheezed semi-cool air across the drapes. She would have found it easier to sleep with Nathan there. He would have kept a watch over JR so she wouldn’t have to sleep with one ear open. But more than that, she’d have felt more at ease knowing where both her children were, that they were both safe.
She shifted her weight, rolled to the side, and scrunched her pillow. What if Nate and Peter struck up a conversation and Nate said too much? He’d been good, hadn’t slipped up once, not even in school. But she’d always been careful not to get too close to anyone, no contacts unless they were absolutely necessary. In the ancient crib next to her, JR’s even breathing signaled a deep sleep. Once the toddler woke up again, Lin’s only chance to catch up on her rest would be gone. With a sigh she forced her eyes closed. If only she could force her brain to shut off — even for an hour.
Nate needed someone, and Peter seemed… She frowned. Peter Kincaid was indefinable. Probably one part civilized and three parts dangerous. But the truth was, he’d been good to Nathan, and her son seemed to be finding something he needed in the friendship.
She drew a deep breath, released it, drew another, let it out. In… out… in… If only she hadn’t seen that stupid number pop up on his phone. Had she made a colossal mistake asking — begging — him to spend the day with Nathan? In… out… She hoped not. Nathan needed a man’s influence. Jeff had done his best after Joey had died. Sweet, sweet Jeff, really only a boy himself, and he’d always looked up to his older brother, so he hadn’t surprised anyone when he’d stepped up to fill Joey’s shoes.
* * * *
Mason, Ohio (North of Cincinnati)
Three years earlier
Gales of wild laughter and the hollow plinking thud of the basketball on the driveway outside the kitchen window made Lin smile. She leaned over the sink filled with sudsy water and dirty dishes and nudged the yellow curtain aside.
Even if he hadn’t stood a foot and a half taller than the cluster of ten-year-old boys surrounding him, she’d have recognized Jeff by the shock of red hair that seemed to flame in the dying afternoon sun. Throwing his head back, Jeff chortled like a mad scientist. The happy sound echoed off the garage door as the boys all jumped up in a rollicking attempt to snatch the basketball he held over his head. With a nod to Nate, he pitched the ball through the air and into her son’s waiting hands. Nathan then ran, dribbling the ball like a pro, until he reached the basket attached to the garage. The gaggle of boys followed, but her son was quick on his feet and his jump-shot layup was through the hoop before any of the other boys even came near.
Jeff cheered and high-fived Nate. Lin pushed down the little pang in her heart. “Two years… it’s been two years,” she reminded herself in a whisper.
But if she squinted, if she didn’t look too closely, it could have been Joey out there bouncing the ball with Nate and his friends. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, then dropped the curtain and submerged her hands in the soapy water.
As she rinsed off a dinner plate and set it in the drainer, arms encircled her from behind. The light pressure of a chin resting on her right shoulder warmed her heart. For a moment, the space of a heartbeat, it was Joey’s arms, Joey’s chin, Joey’s breath against her ear.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Lin sighed as her heart shattered all over again. It never seemed quite right for Jeff to call her by Joey’s pet name. “I didn’t hear you come in. Have you had enough?”
“Never! I love the game.” Jeff dropped his hands and stepped back a hairsbreadth. “But I want to discuss something with you while Nate’s occupied.” Gentle hands settled on her shoulders, and Lin allowed herself to be turned around so she faced him.
His young face, with brilliant eyes so earnest and caring, hovered mere inches from hers. With his looks nearly identical to those of his older brother, down to the sprinkling of freckles over his nose, it became so easy to blur the lines between the two men, to imagine her husband was back home where he belonged.
“Nathan needs a dad,” murmured Jeff, catching a wisp of hair and tucking it behind her ear. “I know it’s not the same thing. I know I’m not… him. But I love you and Nate, Melinda. I love you and I can take care of you two. It’s what he would’ve wanted. It’s what Joey would want. I know it. I think you know it, too. Please, Lin… marry me.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. She almost dreaded Sundays, knowing he’d bring up the topic at least once during his visits for dinner.
A shrill cry of victory filtered through the window, reminding Lin that it wasn’t about just her anymore. What did a widowed mother have to offer a growing boy? Jeff came by when he could, but if they were to marry, he’d come home to them, be there for them, take care of them. Be the father Nathan needed.
Lin sighed. “What about that Master’s Degree you’ve been working on?”
Jeff reached up and pushed a wisp of hair behind her ear. “That’s what night school is for. I have a job offer. It’s a good one, with Weston Fine Foods. In the marketing department. I’ll be working with Trevor.”
Lin shuddered at the thought of the reptilian-eyed rat, but she said nothing. He was, after all, Jeff’s stepbrother, and the three boys had all grown up together.
“I… Are you sure you want to work there?”
Jeff shrugged. “It isn’t what I planned to do with my life, but it’s good money. I’ll be able to take care of you and Nate. Really take care of you.” Warmth flickered to life in his eyes. “I want this, Lin. And I think you do, too.”
He startled her by leaning in with a gentle kiss. Softly at first, then growing firmer, more demanding. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip.
Joey…
Jeff was so like his brother. And if his kisses didn’t excite the butterflies in her stomach, they certainly didn’t repulse her. Beleaguered by loneliness and longing, Lin relaxed her guard and, for the first time, allowed Jeff to deepen their kiss.
Moaning with his victory, he pressed closer until she knew exactly how she stirred him. “Say yes,” he murmured against her lips. “Say you’ll marry me.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Yes. I’ll marry you,” she whispered in a voice as broken as her defenses.
* * * *
Lin jolted awake. Just another dream. Emotions choked her, threatened to suffocate her entirely. Oh, Jeff…
JR whimpered and stirred. But in a few minutes the soft whisper of fabric was replaced by the smacking sounds of a thumb being sucked.
“I know you never met your daddy,” she whispered to the sleeping baby in the dim motel room. “He loved you. He loved you so much, and all he wanted was to come back home for you.” But he hadn’t come home. He’d left her as alone as his brother had, alone and at the mercy of someone who could hurt them all. Someone who lived in the same area of service as the caller on Peter’s phone. Please… let it be a mistake. Don’t take away the brightest light in Nathan’s life. A tear slipped from beneath her lashes as she drifted to sleep to the sound of JR’s soft snores.