Alone at last.” Kevin set a gym bag on the floor and shut the apartment door.
Walking toward their kitchen, Jenna threw him a weak smile. She was exhausted every which way. They had spent most of the day at the hacienda with her grandparents, Erik, and the twins. They sifted through the fire’s aftermath, finding very few salvageable items. It all had been too sad for words. Even Papa had wept, more for the loss of chickens and his favorite old horse than for the material things in the house. Nana mourned little—except for the photos, the mementos, the only tangibles of her lost son.
Then, back at her dad’s, they ate pizza, one last meal together before going their separate ways. Of course, her mom had already gone her separate way.
Yes, it was all too sad for words.
Now she was home for the very first time since before the fire, since before she’d gone her own separate way and moved to Tandy’s.
She stepped into the kitchen, stopped dead in her tracks, blinked, and screamed, “Kevin!”
Dirty dishes and glasses lay everywhere—in the sink, on the countertops, on the table. Empty chip bags, boxes of crackers and cereal, and more sat all over the place. A potted philodendron in the window was brown. Not yellow or weepy green, but brown and crusted.
“Kevin!”
“Whoops. Sorry. I didn’t have a chance to—”
“I can’t believe this!” She circled the small area. “My poor philly. Nobody kills a philly. Oh. My. Gosh. Look at that stovetop!”
“Jen.”
“What?” she snapped and looked up at him.
“I missed you.”
“What does that have to do with living in a pigsty?”
“I’ll clean it up.”
“You got that right.”
“Tomorrow.”
“You are not a slob. My gosh, you’re a Marine. You get on me for not being tidy enough. And look at this! Unbelievable.”
“What can I say? I lost my head. I couldn’t think straight without you here. I couldn’t eat or sleep.”
“It looks like you ate plenty.”
“I didn’t eat right. Mostly junk food.”
She stared at him. He wasn’t doing his little-boy, oh-shucks-ma’am routine. He was admitting what she meant to him.
“Because I wasn’t here?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You saw your dad Monday night at the lookout point? I wasn’t in that bad a shape, but close to it.”
“Oh, Kev. You never let on at school or at that brunch Erik tricked us into.”
“Right. And lose macho face? A guy doesn’t go around saying, ‘Boo-hoo. I’m falling apart because she left.’”
“They do in songs.”
He smiled. “Hey! Wait a minute. Back up. Did you hear what you said?”
“What?”
“You called me a Marine. Present tense.”
“I did not.”
“You did. Come here, pretty lady.” He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen. “Let’s get out of the pigsty. We need to talk.”
They sat on the couch. For a long moment they only stared at each other. In all the hubbub of the past few days, Jenna didn’t remember really looking at him. There hadn’t been a spare moment to be alone.
She touched his bristly jaw. “Did I thank you for coming to Tandy’s Monday night?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been my rock this week. You were just there all the time, helping everybody. You never complained. You always knew exactly what to do.”
“I love your family.”
“It’s not my family. It’s ours.”
“Okay, our family. As long as I don’t have to change my name to Beaumont.” He smiled. “Welcome home.”
“Thanks. It was good to all be together, in the same house, but, whew.” She batted her eyes. “This feels so incredibly good to be home. With you.”
“We’re each other’s home, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, we are. Being away from you was the worst.” She smiled. “And I hated living at Tandy’s. I mean, it was all right. Except for her lumpy mattress and the long drive to school. Not to mention having to check in with two moms all the time about my schedule.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, I could have gone to Dad’s. That would have been more comfortable—”
“I don’t mean I’m sorry about Tandy’s. I’m sorry, Jenna. I’m sorry for not discussing with you my decision to reenlist.”
She leaned toward him. “Can you repeat that? I’m not sure I heard correctly.”
He caught her in his arms, turning her until she was across his lap facing him. “Only if you repeat what you said.”
She giggled. “I did not say you are a Marine, present tense.”
“You did.” He pulled her close.
His navy eyes blurred before her. She became acutely aware of how close his mouth was to hers.
“On second thought,” she murmured, “maybe I did.”
“I love you, and I am sorry I hurt you.”
“I love you, and I am sorry I hurt you.”
He brushed his lips over hers. “Does that mean you’ll clean up the kitchen?”
“No way.”
“Jen, I promise to try to talk more about things with you. I’ll try to remember that besides being a Marine—present tense—I’m also your husband, present tense. Will you forgive me for not cluing you in on my decision before I made it?”
She studied his face, drinking in the familiar angles and markings, pushing aside the realization that they still did not agree on what happened. “Cluing” her in on his decision was not exactly all she wanted. They should have discussed the idea for a long, long time. Her opinion should have been given full consideration.
But . . . maybe this was where give-and-take came into play.
“I forgive you, Kevin.”
“Thank you.” He kissed her. “But I might mess up again. Wait. Knowing me, that’s a given.”
She nodded. Of course he would. Of course she would. “That’s life.”
“I mean, I’ll screw up on purpose.”
She pushed back to see his face better.
“Just so we can make up again.”
She watched his lazy grin emerge, one corner of his mouth lifting at a time. The thought struck her that she would not see him for long periods of time. That they would again separate and make up, so to speak.
“Jen, I was kidding. Don’t look so sad.”
“You’re leaving. Because you’re a Marine.”
“Yeah.” He drew the word out, as if he didn’t follow her reasoning. “Not for a while, though. Hey, pretty lady. Will you stick by me, even when I make you sad?”
She saw the worry in his eyes. He feared the unknown future as much as she did. He needed her as much as she needed him.
She said, “I suppose ‘sad’ comes under the category of ‘for better or worse’? Which means I already promised in our wedding vows to stick by you, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You did what you did because you thought I wasn’t sticking by you.”
“But I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you. It all turned out for good. I think we learned a lot about each other, about marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Uh-oh. I just had another thought. Enlisting means a pay cut. You’ll remember the ‘richer or poorer’ part too?”
An almost unbearable weight of sadness pulled the corners of her mouth downward. It had nothing to do with money. She forced a smile and nodded.
Kevin pulled her close again and held her tightly to himself.
For one brief moment, she wondered if the pain of sticking by him would be worth it. If she got up and left right now and never looked back, she would not have to say good-bye and hello, good-bye and hello, over and over and over. She would not have to try to fit into the parameters that defined the incomprehensible being called a “military wife.”
She pressed her face into his shoulder and wondered when life had gotten so hard.