Abby called Cameron at about three in the afternoon to say, “Don’t eat at Jack’s tonight—I’m cooking us a special dinner.”
“You got it. Can I bring anything home from the corner store?”
“Nope. I already shopped at the grocery in Fortuna. I’ve been shopping all day, buying little things for the babies. Just the essential newborn things in neutral colors until we find out the sex of the second baby. I can’t wait to show you everything.”
She was so happy, so excited, it left Cameron grinning like a schoolboy, hardly able to abide two more hours with nothing to do at the clinic. But he didn’t want to rush home and spoil Abby’s special dinner.
Still, Cameron left the clinic early and drove all the way to Grace Valley to buy her a bouquet of flowers. He made a mental note to tell Connie she might want to stock a few bouquets from time to time—he couldn’t be the only husband who wanted to surprise his wife with some flowers. Oh, that’s right! he thought with a laugh. I’m not a husband, she’s not a wife. They were just playing house. But they were playing it very well. The first thing they’d done after she moved her clothes into the closet at the cabin was drive over to Eureka and buy two cribs, a changing table and small chest of drawers. They spent some time looking at baby products online at Babies ’R’ Us so Abby could pick out what she liked and they could start a steady stream of purchasing right up to the births.
What had Abby said, that they’d probably be completely incompatible? Far from it. They moved through that tiny cabin so smoothly and with such ease, it was as if they’d lived together for years. In barely two weeks, they were becoming good friends, almost a couple. This was what he’d expected since the moment he met her, that they’d bond this way. And there was affection as well. They found plenty to talk about that had nothing to do with her pregnancy or the twins and had become comfortable enough in each other’s company for the casual touching of hands, arms, shoulders; there was even an occasional kiss on the brow or cheek. At first it was Cameron, giving her that avuncular peck, but soon it was Abby, also, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.
The only thing that could make him happier would be if they could become a real family—husband, wife and kids. This was still in its infancy and Abby needed time. But she liked him, he knew she did. She couldn’t keep it secret. She liked him, depended on him, respected him. It was going in the right direction.
He walked into the cabin to see pots on the stove, the makings of a salad in progress scattered around the counter, and Abby’s feet hoisted up on the arm of the sofa. He leaned over the back of the sofa and looked down at her. “You all right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Well, my ankles got bigger and bigger all day, and while I was making dinner my back started to kill me. Then I had a contraction! I felt it! It was big and long. So I stopped what I was doing and just laid down. And I’ve had a few more since.”
“Good call, getting off your feet,” he said. He tossed the flowers on the counter and went around to the front of the couch and sat on the trunk. “You probably overdid it today, got a little dehydrated—that can bring on the Braxton Hicks. You’re carrying a big load for a full day of shopping.”
“I feel like an elephant. And I could hardly stand up anymore.”
“How’s your back now?”
“It’s okay, lying down. But, Cameron, I have to make it at least six more weeks and I’m not sure I can expand any more without exploding.”
“You’d be surprised,” he said, opening his bag on the floor beside the sofa. “I’m going to take your blood pressure, just to see where you are, but I bet you were just on your feet too long today. You’re probably going to have to watch that. And roll onto your left side for me—try not to lie flat on your back like that. It distresses the babies sometimes.” He fit the digital cuff around her wrist and held her wrist across her heart for a more accurate reading. When it beeped, he looked at the little screen. “It’s just up a little. But your heart is racing. Calm down, everything is all right.”
She got tears in her eyes. “What if I go into labor too early? What if something goes wrong?”
“Okay, honey, listen. If you’re earlier than thirty-five weeks, we’ll airlift you to Redding to have a neonatal ICU available in case we need it, but there’s no indication that’s going to happen. You’re in perfect health, but you’re very pregnant and your body is going to let you know when you need more rest and relaxation. And you have to keep up the fluids. You should start lying down on your left side for twenty minutes or so every couple of hours to keep the swelling under control and give your body a chance to rejuvenate. That’s not going to be too hard to do.”
“It sounds dreadful,” she said. “Highly inconvenient.”
He lifted one dark brow. “How does complete bed rest sound? Because it’s not unusual for women carrying twins to be put to bed at the end to hang on and grow them a little more. You can avoid that for a long time by taking it easy while you can.”
Her eyes clouded over. “I think I want my mother.”
He brushed the hair back from her temple and over her ear. “You’re past traveling, Ab. But we can call your mother if you’d like, ask her if she can come. I could give her my bed and sleep at the clinic. Maybe a visit from your mother would help. Think about it—but remember, she’ll want to be here when the babies come. That’s not far away, Abby. Even if you go as far as Dr. Stone and Mel would like.”
“It’s just that…she always calms me down when I get all upset.”
“Well, I’d like to apply for that job—see if I have any talent in that department.”
“Oh! Cameron! There’s another one,” she said, her hand on her belly and her eyes wide as doughnuts.
He carefully lifted her top and put his hand, firm and warm, on her belly. “Doesn’t hurt at all, does it?”
“No. But it’s for real.”
“Braxton Hicks. Bet it doesn’t last thirty seconds. Having a lot of those can soften the cervix, which is probably why there are some OBs who think the more of those practice contractions you have, the smoother and quicker the labor will be, but I can’t recall if there’s any research to that effect. Ah.” He grinned. “Over in less than thirty seconds. It’s all right, honey. Nothing to worry about.”
“You’re sure?”
“I could check you, see if you’re dilated or effaced at all, but really, I don’t think it’s necessary. Not yet.”
“God, don’t do that. It’s so…intimate.”
He laughed at her. “Abby, we didn’t get this way sharing a glass.”
“I know, but—That was such a long time ago.”
“Thirty weeks,” he said. Then he smiled warmly. “Stay calm. I had some training in this.” He leaned over and gave her belly a kiss. “Sweet,” he murmured, pulling her top down.
She smiled a small smile. “Have you told your mother yet?”
“Not yet. I better do that, huh?”
“Probably. What will you tell her?”
“That’s the part I’m having some trouble with….”
“What if you were blatantly honest?”
He laughed. “The unvarnished truth would be—I met this knockout woman, had a wonderful but too short relationship with her, and found out later we’re expecting twins. So of course we’re having them. Together.” Then he added, “Congratulations, Gram.”
“And if she says, ‘Cameron Michaels, you get married at once, or else!’”
“I’m thirty-six, Abby. My mother can’t tell me what to do anymore. What we do is our business, not hers.”
“Right,” she said quietly. “You’d better tell her soon.”
“I have some good news for you,” he said, deftly changing the subject. “Your credit cards are paid off. You don’t owe anything more to your ex-husband. Brie is drafting a letter to him to explain you won’t be accepting any more alimony and want to consider the matter closed. You might want to talk to her about that so you understand exactly what she can do, what she can’t do. But it looks like it’s just about over.”
“That is good news. I can’t wait until all that’s behind me. Do you think there’s any chance I can still get into trouble for—you know—breaking my prenup with you?”
“I think that’s so unlikely. He has bigger fish to fry. But just so you don’t let that possibility get you all worked up, if there’s a problem, we’ll have Brie negotiate it down and pay it off, fifty dollars a month if we have to. Abby, even the worst case isn’t going to be a big deal. Let’s move on from that. It’s given us enough trouble.”
“I like that idea,” she said.
“Why don’t I finish the dinner you started,” he asked.
“You don’t mind?”
“What do you have going out there?” he asked, pointing his chin toward the kitchen.
“Chicken cacciatore.”
“Hmm. You couldn’t have been whipping up an omelet or hamburgers, huh?”
She laughed. “It’s almost done. Simmer what’s in the skillet, make the pasta, finish the salad.”
He stood up. “You must have been hungry when you started this meal. What about your heartburn?”
“Well, it’s chicken cacciatore without onions and peppers and only a small amount of garlic. It could be awful.”
He touched her nose. “Go get into something comfortable. Your flannel nightgown or some sweats. Grab your DVD player and some movies. We’ll eat on the sofa and put on a DVD.”
“Good idea,” she said. “Sorry about the dinner.”
He grinned. “Sorry about the backache and the—”
“Cankles,” she supplied.
“Cankles?”
“That’s when there’s no definition between your calves and ankles.” She held up a foot. “Cankles.” And she pushed herself up from the couch, falling back. He put out a hand to pull her up and she said, “Thank you.”
When the dinner was ready, Cam fixed a nice-looking tray and brought it to her. She took it and held it out in front of her for a moment. Her lap was gone; there was no place to put it. With a chuckle, he took it from her, placed it on the trunk and handed her the salad bowl. On instinct, she was soon balancing it on her big belly, making him laugh. “We should get some pictures one of these days,” he said.
“I don’t think I could bear it….”
“But later, when you’re in your old body, you’re going to wish you had some. Mel’s great with the digital camera. We’ll get her to shoot a few.” He lifted her tray and with it balanced on his knees, he cut up her chicken. “Just something to remember this by. We’re long past that craziness of wishing it wasn’t so, aren’t we? I mean,” he said, cutting and slicing, “I hope you are. I don’t think I felt that way for one second.”
“What are you doing there?” she asked.
“Abby, you can’t do this, sitting on the couch. I thought I’d make it easier.”
“I’m starting to feel like an invalid,” she said.
“Just concentrate on feeling like someone who deserves to be spoiled.” Finished, he put the plate back on her tray and went to fetch his own. “How’s the food taste? Did I do anything to screw it up?”
“It’s good,” she said. “Bland, but good.”
“It’s fine, Abby. And there’s ice cream if it’s not bland enough. What movie did you decide on?”
“What Women Want. Mel Gibson.”
“I better pay attention to that one,” he laughed. “I seem to be deficient in that department.” When they’d finished, he picked up their trays. “You can start it or wait for me to do dishes, your choice.”
“I’ll wait,” she said. And once the water was running in the little kitchen, she murmured, “And you’re not deficient in anything.”
* * *
It was dark in the little cabin but for the light from the portable DVD player. She had set it to play repeatedly, so had no idea when they might have fallen asleep, but the romping of babies woke her. Cam had slipped under her legs, resting them on his thighs to keep them elevated, so she was too cozy to stay awake. She looked over at him and had to stifle a laugh. His feet were up on the trunk, his head tilted back, his mouth open, and his hand snaked under her sweatshirt to feel her belly. But the movement of the babies hadn’t roused him. Yet.
She pressed her hand over his and watched him. He slowly came awake, closing his mouth, sitting up, meeting her eyes.
“Oh. Sorry. I must have done that in my sleep.”
“It’s all right,” she laughed. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“No,” he said through a yawn. “Was it a good movie?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “We both bit the dust. Me, from tension probably. And you, from working yourself to death to stay ahead of my tension.” Then she sighed. “My children are up.”
“That’s not a good sign. It would be better if they slept when we slept.”
“We have to go to bed,” she said. “It could be three in the morning. I’m afraid to look.”
He stood up and put out his hand. “Come on, sleepyhead.”
When she stood from the couch and faced him, she looked into his beautiful blue eyes and said, “Would you like to sleep next to your children?”
His eyes were startled, his mouth agape.
“It won’t be like the last time,” she hastened to promise.
He smiled slowly. “It will be even better,” he said, slipping his hand over her belly. “Whoa,” he laughed.
“It’s up to you.”
“I wouldn’t pass up an invitation like that. I’d like to feel all of you up against me, cozy and safe.”
“Then come on.”
Abby had her turn in the bathroom first and when Cam came out, she had changed into a huge T-shirt that came almost to her knees and, he assumed, panties. So he stripped down to his boxers and crawled in, curling around her back. “Nice,” he whispered against the back of her neck.
“Mmm,” she hummed, snuggling in.
His hands found her belly and rested there and sleep found him, content and confident for the first time in so long. He was going to make this work. Yes, he was.
In the early morning he woke and he was facing her, her head on his arm, her breath on his cheek, her belly against his belly. And one hand under her shirt, cupping her bare breast. And a huge, throbbing, early-morning erection in his boxers. He pulled his hips away from her first, then slowly removed his hand. Whoa, shit, he thought. That would probably ensure this was his last visit to her bed. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t control what he didn’t know he was doing. But still, there must be a way to assure her that he’d never… That he knew she was as big and ripe as a full-term mother…. That it wasn’t necessarily that he wanted… But of course he wanted her, but he didn’t have to… Oh God, he couldn’t figure out how to get out of this embarrassing situation without offending her, insulting her. Or scaring her to death.
He gently pulled his arm out from under her and headed for the shower.
* * *
Cameron beat Mel to the clinic in the morning. While she was bright and cheerful, he was awful quiet. He busied himself at the computer. When she asked him what he was doing, he said, “Car seats. We need two car seats and Abby just about wore herself out shopping in Eureka yesterday, so I told her I’d look online.”
“Oh,” Mel said. “Good idea. I guess a pediatrician knows what to look for.”
Two hours and two patients later, he was still acting as if something was wrong. So she went head-on, as she was known to do. “What’s eating at you? You’re all funky and weird, like you and Abby have a problem or something.” He ducked his head. “Oh, you and Abby have a problem. What’s the matter? Can I help? Is the pregnancy all right?”
“I don’t think you can help,” he said, turning away from her and heading for the kitchen.
She followed him. “You don’t really know, though, do you? Until you run it by me?”
“It’s kind of embarrassing,” he said, not facing her.
“For God’s sake, I look at cracks and talk about sex for a living. You can’t embarrass me.”
He turned around. “I was thinking it would be embarrassing for me.”
“Well, get over it. I’m your midwife.”
He took a deep breath. “Abby and I are getting along very well. It’s incredible. Better than I thought it could be. We’re so compatible. And last night I slept beside her, holding her and the babies….” He dropped his chin.
“Aw,” Mel said. “That’s sweet. I’m so happy, Cam.”
“And woke up with my hand up her shirt and with the biggest hard-on.”
Mel looked momentarily perplexed. “I’m sorry. Did I need to know that?”
“I can’t believe how much just being near her is getting to me. I can’t let her think that—I mean, I let her think it would be completely safe for me to just lie beside her and… Aw, Christ. I have no control at all. What a damn mess.”
“Cameron, take it easy. Most of that’s just nature. Huh? It happens all night long. I’m sure Abby knows that.”
“It’s not just happening when I’m asleep. I really have a problem here. I’ve wanted that woman since the first second I saw her, but she’s in no condition for me to want her like that. What kind of man wants to… I mean, I won’t touch her, I swear I won’t. But if she thinks she’s not safe from my instincts, then I’ll be sent back up to the loft. And I don’t want to go back up to the loft!” He took a breath, shook his head dismally. “I should probably go back up to the loft.”
Mel’s face cracked into a huge grin. “My goodness. The Madonna syndrome? You?”
“What?”
“The mother of your children can’t also be a sexual human being?”
“Not if she’s ripe as a tomato! She’s thirty weeks! With twins! It would be irresponsible to—You know we don’t want a lot of action down there.”
“Cameron, surely you have a better imagination than you’re letting on. I mean, there are a few alternative methods of sharing affection that don’t involve intercourse. But of course I agree—intercourse now is probably not the best idea, even though we’re not necessarily concerned about early labor. Yet.”
“We don’t have that kind of relationship. At least, not now. We agreed to share this space so I could be there for her. So we could have them together and rely on each other. Not so we could explore alternative methods of affection, by which I’m sure you mean manual or oral.” He ran a hand over his chest as if wiping it dry. “She probably shouldn’t play around with orgasms anyway. That’s all we need is a little early labor now.”
“Hey, this is something for you to talk to her about,” Mel said. “You afraid you’ll shock her? Didn’t you get her pregnant? Isn’t she aware you have a healthy libido?”
“I’m pretty sure she has no idea how healthy. Really, I wasn’t prepared to find her sexier than ever. She can’t even get up off the couch without a hand and I’m ready to spring into action and—” He stopped himself. “Jesus.”
Mel just chuckled. “Listen, while she’s feeling big as a cow, I doubt she’d be insulted to learn she actually turns you on. Know what I mean? It might lead to some meaningful communication, which it sounds like the two of you could use.” But she couldn’t help herself. She chuckled again and put a hand over her mouth.
“You don’t have to laugh at me,” he groused.
“Aw, I think you’re cute. Talk to her. You said you’re getting close. Tell her how you’ve been feeling, et cetera. And you can also explain why it’s not an excellent idea to have a wild romp in the hay just now. But you don’t have to be embarrassed by your feelings and frankly, I don’t think a little orgasm or two would hurt. You’re not tempting fate for at least a couple more weeks. Desiring her when she’s in this phase of motherhood—that’s sweet.” She shook her head. “Jack sure didn’t have this problem. He wasn’t embarrassed by his feelings. Frustrated by them, yes. Embarrassed? Pah.”
“Maybe Jack is the guy I should be talking to….”
Mel lost every trace of humor. “Okay, I have to draw the line there. You can’t do that. Jack might say too much—he’s been known to do that once or twice. And I can’t have you conjuring up pictures of me in—” She straightened her spine. “I’m your boss, I think. I am, yes I am. You’re the doctor, but it’s my clinic. I can’t have you picturing me in compromising positions, even if they might help your pathetic sex life, because I’m your boss.”
He just grinned largely, happily. As of her last words, he didn’t need Jack’s input to drum up an image or two. Her turn to squirm. She’d certainly enjoyed his discomfort, but all he said with regards to hers was, “Why, Melinda. Hmm.”
* * *
As the April afternoons became warmer and perfect for riding, Muriel rode along the river with Vanessa and Shelby while Walt watched the baby. It was Muriel’s last day in Virgin River and spending time with the girls had become almost as important as spending it with Walt. And spring in the mountains was exhilarating; bright green with a smattering of colorful wildflowers along the riverbank. They rode along at a leisurely pace, enjoying the fresh air and conversation.
“Is there a date set for the wedding yet?” Muriel asked Shelby.
“No, not exactly. We can’t figure out when to do it, where to do it. Luke still has two brothers in the Middle East. I think we should wait for them to get home and he thinks we’d better hurry.”
“What’s the hurry?” Muriel asked.
“We want to have a baby,” she said, smiling.
Muriel just frowned. “Shelby, you’re so young—you have lots of time. It’s not like your clock is ticking.”
“I know,” she laughed. “Luke’s clock is ticking. He’ll be thirty-nine next month. He’s afraid he’s going to be going to high-school football games with a walker.”
“Oh,” she said. “Don’t you want to have a little time with him first? Alone time? Before you add a baby to the mix?”
“I wouldn’t mind that, but I get his point. I’m just so pleased he’s going along with the family idea, I’m being cooperative.”
“And school?” Muriel asked.
“The nursing program officially starts in September, but I’m going to take classes this summer to get a head start. There will be an orientation day in June and I can take Luke with me, but I had a tour already. The students in that program are men and women, all ages, and I mean all ages—from eighteen to fifty. The only thing I had to work out with Luke is that he’s going to be a totally involved father and not leave it to me to manage all the child-care issues alone so I can go to school.”
“And?” Muriel asked.
Shelby laughed. “For someone who insisted marriage and family would never be in his future, he can’t wait. If it was up to Luke, we’d take off for the justice of the peace. But his mother would absolutely kill him if he did that.”
“You’d better plan enough in advance so I can make it,” Muriel warned.
“Really?” Shelby asked. “You’d come?”
“Of course I’d come. It’ll take some planning, and maybe some conniving, if I’m still on this movie when you do it.”
“Muriel, are you anxious to get back to the movie?” Vanessa asked her.
“In a way,” she said with a shrug. “Sometimes the chemistry is so good on a set, with all the people involved, that it’s like forming a family. That’s not typical. It’s like all the planets lined up—the script, the cast, the crew, the direction. And I think the fact that we’re going to Montana rather than New Delhi or Greenland gives everyone a real positive attitude. Montana in the summer—a great idea. A lot of people are bringing families.” She was quiet for a moment. “They could have filmed here,” she said as she moved her mare down the river path, right between Vanni and Shelby on their mounts. “The setting is just as good, the weather just as wonderful in summer.”
“You’re going to miss the general,” Vanessa said.
“Oh, yes,” she admitted. “I wish he’d come to Montana. At least for a visit. They rented me a small house up there.”
“Have you asked him?”
“Uh-huh. Something about that idea bothers him. He keeps saying we’ll see. Maybe it’s because I’ll be putting in long hours—I had to tell the truth about that. But really, I suspect Walt doesn’t think he can fit into my world.”
“Are you two serious?” Vanni asked. Muriel shot her a look and Vanni actually blushed. “I mean, are you… I mean, you don’t have to say anything…. I mean, I was just wondering if—Oh, hell, mind your own business, Vanessa!” she self-admonished.
“What’s serious?” Muriel asked. “Do I think he’s just about the greatest man I’ve ever met? I do. If I started to list all the things that make him wonderful, we wouldn’t have time. Are we going to get married or anything like that? No. But could this fantastic relationship we have go on for a long time? Why not?”
“I hate to put my foot in my mouth all over again, but why are you so sure you won’t get married?” Vanni asked.
“Darling, I’ve had five husbands and a number of steady guys. Why would I attempt that again? I’d like to think it was their fault, but what if I’m the one who’s not so good at it? And why would Walt take a chance on a woman who’s had five husbands and a number of steady guys? Especially when this friendship we have feels… Well, it feels perfect. I wouldn’t want to screw it up. Besides, there’s no panic—my clock isn’t ticking. Hell, I threw it against the wall years ago.”
“But aren’t you afraid of—” Vanni shut her mouth before she did it again.
“Afraid of what, darling?”
She took a deep breath. “Afraid of growing old alone?”
Muriel laughed lightly. “Oh, you’re so young. No, I’m not afraid of growing old alone. I’m afraid of growing old trapped.”
They were quiet for a few long seconds. Then Shelby said, “Wow. I never even thought of that.”
“Why would you? Either of you? You’re young, in love, have long, steady lives ahead. And I certainly don’t feel that ending up with a man like Walt would trap me in any way, it’s not that.” She looked steadily at Vanni, then Shelby, then ahead at the gloriously rising mountains covered with towering trees. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I trapped him. What if there was another role that intrigued me, that I wanted to try? I thought I was ready for retirement, to leave the movie business behind, but then a great role for a fifty-six-year-old woman came to me and I found it irresistible. And here I am, not wanting to pass it up, yet not wanting to leave Walt and this wonderful life behind.” She laughed. “It’s been years since I’ve faced a dilemma like this. Really, I had sworn off men.”
“I’m just guessing here,” Vanessa said. “But somehow I don’t think Daddy would feel trapped by you or your career.”
Muriel was quiet for a long time. Then she said, “I don’t know about that. He keeps asking me when the filming will be done, but he won’t even commit to a long weekend visit in Montana.” Then after another few minutes of silence, Muriel said, “I probably should have given up acting to breed horses years ago.”
* * *
There was a time, before Jack had two children, Preacher had his two, Mike and Paul one each, before the living quarters at the bar were enlarged for Preacher’s family and before everyone had their own homes on the outskirts of town, that it was standard for the same gang to meet for dinner several times a week. Now they had to make an effort to all be there on the same night.
It’s not as though this bothered Jack much—he saw everyone every day. Sometimes a day or two went by without his seeing one or two of the women, but the guys would always stop by for lunch or a beer or something. He was missing the old squad, though. Time for a Semper Fi reunion. He wanted the brotherhood around to bolster him. All this came to mind because he was leaving in the morning for San Diego; he was going to pick up Rick and bring him home.
Rick didn’t want the escort. He told Jack to stay home and if it wasn’t too much trouble, catch him at the bus when he got in. Like Jack was some neighbor guy he didn’t want to impose on or something. The kid was coming home after being blown up in Iraq, and Jack, who loved him as much or more than anyone, shouldn’t go to any trouble? That wasn’t how it worked. Not in his experience.
Mike walked in the back door and right behind the bar. He liked to get his own beer. He also liked to stand back there with Jack. Then, not a minute later, the sound of Paul kicking the mud off his boots on the porch could be heard, and he walked in. He sat up at the bar and tapped it twice, his signal that he was ready for a beer.
Another minute passed. Then Paul said, “Ready to go?”
Jack should have known they were there to give him a little moral support. The whole ordeal with Rick had been a load for everyone, but clearly hardest on Jack. “Yup,” Jack said. “I’ll leave at about 5:00 a.m. if I sleep in, then drive down, spend the night, scoop him up and bring him home.”
“Be good to have him home,” Mike said.
“He’s not like he was,” Jack said. “He’s got a peg leg and a giant bug up his ass.”
“None of us were like we were. For a while,” Paul said. “He’s a kid. He’ll get through it. Or we’ll get him through it.”
“Mel’s working on finding someone for him to talk to. A professional,” Jack said. “I have PT all worked out, but he needs other stuff, too.”
“Liz know he’s on the way home?” Mike asked.
“Yeah. Because I told her. Rick couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone when she called him, or call her back. Almost two months and he didn’t take even one of her calls.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Really, I want to choke him, but I know what’s going on. And I know he can’t help it.”
“He’s screwed up,” Paul said.
“He just doesn’t know how tough it’s going to be when he’s ready to start unscrewing himself, if he keeps burning all his bridges,” Jack said. “Ask me how much I look forward to ten hours in the truck with him?”
“Maybe he’ll sleep.”
“Go easy on him, Jack. You said it yourself—it’s not like he wants to be messed up.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s just tough. I’ve always been amazed at how strong he is. Right now—his glass is not half-full. Know what I mean?”
“Well, everyone’s entitled to be imperfect sometimes,” Mike said.
“Yeah. It’s just that…”
“What?” Paul asked.
“It’s just that I can take about anything but self-pity. Anything. But feeling sorry for yourself is the most candy-assed thing you can cave into.”
Mike chuckled. “Because you never indulged? Oh my brother, I did some self-pity that would’ve put your head on fire. Man, I was in a hole so deep…”
“But you got out,” Jack said. “You climbed out.”
“Not when you were ready, Jack. When I was,” Mike said. “Go easy.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Maybe I should go,” Mike suggested. “Jack, you never really got shot up. Or blown up. Maybe I should go.”
“I’m going,” Jack said. “I’ll go easy.”
* * *
The next morning, Jack pocketed the cell phone he only took when he would be out of the mountains and had reception. He threw his duffel in the back of the truck and Mel said, “Jack, try to be patient. Your expectations of him have always been high. You miss him, you want him to bounce back, be his old self because you care about him, because you miss him.”
“I know,” Jack said. “And because I don’t want him to feel any pain. Everyone is so ready to help him with any pain or fear or worry he has, and he’s got this wall. It’s awful.”
“Let him talk. Try not to tell him how he should feel.”
“I know,” Jack said. “And if he doesn’t talk?”
“Remember that you want him to talk because you miss him. If he doesn’t want to talk yet, let him be quiet.”
“I just want to know why he couldn’t at least call Liz and tell her what’s—”
“Jack, that’s between them. When he gets home he’s going to have to work it out because she’ll be around and he can’t send her to voice mail when she’s standing right in front of him. Jesus, this is your weakness. You, who didn’t fall in love till you were forty, think you can fix up everyone’s relationships.” She shook her head. She got up on her toes and kissed him. “Well, your heart’s in the right place, that’s for sure. Make sure your mouth is in the right place, too. Closed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And for God’s sake, drive carefully. I need you back.”