Broken Road (8 page)

“Grandpa.” Riley said, emotion choking him.
 

“Welcome home, boy. Welcome home.” His grandfather whispered.There was thunderous applause and as if on cue the band started up again as a reporter struggled to make it the five or so feet to Riley in order to interview him.
 
But after the fierce embrace he shared with his grandfather, Riley looked up and seemed to realize where he was.
 
He pulled away quickly, put on his sunglasses and made his way through the rest of the crowd, avoiding the red carpet leading to the adjacent stage stocked with special guests and dignitaries. Then he walked into the terminal and out of sight.
 
The reporter was visibly frustrated by Riley’s disappearing act but made do instead with sticking the microphone in the face of Riley’s grandfather. As he rushed through the hallways he could hear his grandfather’s words over the terminal loudspeakers.

“I suppose,” EJ told the crowd "that my grandson doesn’t feel that he should be singled out for this kind of attention.
 
What he did over there, on that road, well, there are probably lots of young men and women in uniform that have been in that situation.
 
The feeling, I’m sure he has, is that he did what any one of them would have done if they’d been in his shoes.
 
So, he thanks you, as I do, for your prayers and support and asks you to continue to offer them for those who are still back there fighting.
 
Thank you.”

Another thunderous round of applause cued the band into “God Bless America”.
 
But not far away, inside the terminal, from the safety of the third stall in the newly remodeled men’s bathroom Army Specialist Riley Favreau found himself hiding from the crowd outside, his grandfather, his fiancée, his best friend and more importantly himself.

 
Riley had been home for almost a week before he finally got the opportunity to be alone with his fiancée.
 
He hadn’t really said anything to anyone since the ceremonies were over at the airport.
 
He didn’t offer any explanations and as much as she or EJ might have felt they were owed some sort of explanation for his strange behavior, neither one of them pushed him on the subject. He slept most of the first week away, hidden in the darkness of his room with the door shut and locked.
 
He came out when the sun was going down and reluctantly ate what EJ tried to set in front of him.
 
Misty came over everyday probably hoping to find him awake and open to having some company. He never was and she spent many hours on the couch watching tv with EJ. When he was awake he often caught Misty playing nervously with the ring on her finger. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Should he ask to talk to her?
 
Should he wait for the right time?
 
Should he talk to EJ about it?
 
It was confusing.
 
The psychologist back at the army hospital had tried
 
to explain to Riley that he had been through a very traumatic episode and that it would take time, maybe a lot of time before he felt more like himself. But she warned him not to expect everything would be just as it was before he deployed. It was unlikely, she reminded him, that he would just suddenly become the happy, easy-going guy everyone used to know. It just didn’t work that way and he would just have to have faith that in time he would find a way to reintegrate back into his life. He wanted to believe that.
 
He wanted to be that patient, caring, loving person that his fiancée needed but he had barely acknowledged her presence since he got back.
 
He couldn’t bring himself to go to her, to tell her what had happened to him. That bothered him.
 
No.
 
It didn’t bother-it hurt.
 
Badly.
 
He had played their reunion over and over in his mind and it hadn’t played out the way he imagined it in any way, shape or form. Now, as he sat in his room listening to the television out in the living room he felt desperate. Misty was probably out there waiting.
 
He had no idea what time it was when he got up from his bed. Riley stared at the closed bedroom door.
 
It was the only thing that separated him from Misty.
 
It was horrible.
 
It was exasperating.
 
It wasn’t an ocean or a desert.
 
It was a door.
 
All he had to do was go to it turn the knob and call her name. He stood in front of the door and reached out a hand.
 
He turned the knob, opened the door and there she was looking as if she had been about to knock.
 
He took as step back, startled.
 

“Misty.
 
What are you doing here?”
 

“I was waiting for you.
 
I’ve been keeping your grandpa company but he went to buy a paper.”

“A paper?
 
Is it morning?” He said rubbing his eyes.

“No.
 
It’s almost 9 in the evening.” She said
 

“No kidding?”

“No. You’ve been sleeping a long time.”
 

“I guess.
 
But I still feel tired.” He said and yawned.
 
He wasn’t sure what to say next.
 
She was staring at the ugly scars that zig-zagged across his chest, were still red and raised in some places. Riley forgot he was shirtless. She reached out suddenly in an attempt to touch the one closest to his heart. But before she could actually put her fingers on it, Riley had a hold of her hand.

“Don’t.” He said in voice that was suddenly hard and cold.
 
He’d never seen her look at him that way before.
 
She was scared.

“Please, don’t.” He added, his voice softening.
 

“I’m sorry.
 
I didn’t mean to. . .”

If he looked at her now he would see that he had made her cry.
 
He pushed past her and she tried to get out of his way.
 
He headed for the kitchen but she didn’t follow.
 
He decided to get a glass of water even though he wasn’t thirsty.
 
From the kitchen he could still see the light from the lamp he’d left on in his room. They had spent lots of time together there.
 
Some of it had been purely innocent and some of it downright sinful.
 
But now it seemed like an unwelcoming and forbidden place.
 
It was exactly the same as the last time they had been there together, entwined in each other’s arms, wrapped in a mass of sheets and blankets because no matter how hot or warm it was inside or out she was always freezing. They had taken advantage of every spare moment while his grandfather was out of the house that they had before Riley was deployed.
 
That’s how she’d ended up with the small, diamond solitaire she now wore on her ring finger.
 
He’d simply rolled over and opened the drawer to the nightstand and gotten out a small, black velvet box, opened it and taken out the ring.
 
He had done it all so quickly that she hadn’t even noticed until he turned to kiss her, slowly caressing the skin of her left arm, making his way down to her hand leading her to believe initially that they were about to say goodbye again.
 
But instead he slipped the ring on her finger.
 
It had confused her.

“What are you doing?” she asked momentarily distracted as he continued to kiss her, more passionately now.

“Kissing you.” He said.
 
He was gearing up for another goodbye.
 
There was no mistake about that but the moment she felt the ring on her finger she gently pushed him away.

“It’s a ring.” She said somewhat stunned.

“Yes.” He said and picked up where he left off.

“Riley, you gave me a ring.”

“Yes.” He said pulling her closer to him.

“Is it what I think it is?”
 

“Your first guess was correct.
 
It is a ring.
 
I gave it to you.
 
Can we continue?”he asked playfully biting her earlobe.
 
She pushed at his chest a little bit harder.

“You’ve given me a ring.
 
It looks real.
 
It looks like an engagement ring.
 
Is it?” she said unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.
 
He looked at her and smiled.

“Yes.” He finally answered and kissed her neck.

“Riley! Can you be serious about this for just a moment?”

“I’m the one who gave you the ring, so on the serious scale I think I’m rating high.”

“Yes, but. . .”

“But what?” he said and moved slowly down to her chest.

“Do not distract me.
 
This is important.” She said touching his face.

“Yes.
 
I know.” He said

“You want to marry me?”

“Yes.” He said

“Why?” she asked.
 
He paused for a moment.
 
He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it was obvious.” He said and kissed her on the lips.

“Okay.
 
But I wouldn’t mind hearing it.” She said and he sighed.

“Because I love you?
 
Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“It’s not because you're leaving is it?
 
Riley, don’t ask me because you’re leaving.
 
That would make me sad.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it means you don’t think you're coming back.
 
We had a plan remember?”
 

“So I moved up the timeline a little.” He said and picked up her hand to intertwine it with his.
 
He reached down to kiss her ring finger.

“Don’t even think of not coming back to me.” She whispered looking straight into his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Riley. . .why now?”

“I know you don’t want to think about me leaving or getting hurt over there or worse.
 
I don’t either.
 
But, I don’t want to waste any time.”

“You could have given me a teddy bear or something.
 
Even a puppy would have been fine.” She laughed and kissed him.

“Do you hate it?” he asked softly.

“No! Not at all!
 
I just don’t want to jinx anything.”

“I want to marry you.
 
I want you to know exactly what my plans are no matter what happens. When I get back, we’ll get married and we’ll go where ever the Army sends us. We can even start thinking about having a family.” He grinned.

“Oh, Riley. We’re going to do all of those things. I was planning on them with or without this ring.” She kissed him again.

“The only question left is do you want to marry me?” he said looking at her expectantly.

“Yes.” She said and kissed him, picking up where he left off, each caress and kiss they felt a sense of urgency that hadn’t been there before.
 

 
In the afterglow of this last goodbye they had stared up at all of the photographs scattered around the room. There were pictures of Riley with his mother, who had died of cancer many years ago, more pictures with his grandparents, then pictures with Brandon out riding bikes, playing football, basketball, going hunting, driving Brandon’s old truck in the field near the torn up tractor barn on the Cole place. There were also pictures of the three of them, she, Brandon and Riley at age 10 at a church picnic, fishing at the pond near the park at age 12, at the town’s Fourth of July celebration, holding their box turtles all decorated for the annual race, at age 13, her with braces and looking awkward sandwiched between the two of them making rabbit ears over their heads.
 
Finally, there were pictures of just the two of them, sitting on a fence near the cattle pastures a few feet away from each other, the braces off, her hair long and less frizzy, another picture of them at a junior high winter dance, standing close together, shoulders touching, big smiles and better hair.
 
There were pictures of the two of them holding hands, one of her sitting on his lap with his arms wrapped around her waist, neither one of them looking at the camera but instead at each other unaware that someone was snapping a picture. His grandmother must have taken that one. There was also one of the day they graduated from high school and Brandon was back in that one with them. The three of them posed proudly in their red caps and gowns, holding their diplomas. How grown-up they thought they looked but that was before life took them in different directions. Riley enlisted, Brandon stayed behind to run the family farm and Misty got her Associate’s Degree and came back to Bess to help her aunt run the little flower shop and boutique downtown. But the plan had always been the same; the three of them would always remain friends and even though it had take quite a few years for him to finally propose, Misty would always belong to Riley. He tried to remember the last afternoon they had spent together before he’d deployed, celebrating their happy past and their uncertain future. That’s when he noticed that she was staring at him.
 
He turned to look at her and wondered what she saw.
 
Was it the little scratches and gashes that were still healing on his face from the explosion?
 
Maybe it was the deep shadows under his eyes or the hard sinewy muscles of his chest and torso covered with more scars.
 
Had he changed so much?
 
She looked away and stared down at her feet.