Fighting for Arielle (25 page)

I take a slow bre
ath to gather my thoughts and ponder what he just shared.  

“It was magical, McCrary.
 It’s also my favorite piano piece, although I never had the mental fortitude to make myself learn it.”  

I pause again, trying to find the right words, but feel at a loss.
 I think I should tell him how much I enjoyed it, or how skilled he is, or how it brought me to tears, but I settle for, “Tell me about her.”

McCrary’s breath hitches and he clears his throat.
 

“Her name is Lisa, and s
he was the most wonderful mother anyone could ask for.  She was always smiling and affectionate to us.  She supported us in all of our endeavors, even when I wasn’t so sure I wanted to go into the Navy.  She made sure that we knew we were loved and to never take anything for granted.  She was a strong woman who supported my dad and still managed to take three boys to all of their music and language lessons, and she was in the stands cheering us on at every single athletic event or academic competition.  She was a lot like you, actually.  She was loud and let everyone know we were her sons, even if we were making fools of ourselves on the field.  

“My mother always came up with creative ways to motivate us to reach further and try harder.
 She never let us settle, but she pushed us with respect.  She’s the reason I know and appreciate musicals and classical music.  On Sundays, she would play classical music throughout the house or we would catch matinee shows of any musical production around, including local children’s theatre.  As a matter of fact, she ignored our groans and made us participate in community theatre, but it turns out that some of my best memories were made participating in those shows.  She was our only constant.”

I feel McCrary’s body shudder in pain as he remembers his mother.
 

“She sounds wonderful.”

McCrary pulls me in closer to him.

 
“She was.  She would love you to pieces, you know.  You two would have been two peas in a pod.”

I look up to his sad face and feel his pain.
 

“
I know that if she’s up there in the big blue sky, chilling on her own cloud, she could not be more proud of you.  She left a legacy in you and your brothers, and you have to keep sharing that legacy through memories and through her teachings.  That’s how she will stay alive in your heart.  I cannot say that time heals all wounds, and that she did not take a piece of your heart with her, but I do hope that in time, your positive and happiest memories of her will overshadow the sorrow and loss, gradually filling in that missing piece.”

McCrary kisses the top of my head.
 

“You always know the perfect words to say.”

***

M
orning comes, and I opt to not get out of bed with McCrary.  I think my response to his invitation was a groan, a grumble, and a wave of my hand to indicate I was not feeling Monday morning.  The bed feels so empty and lonely without him in it, but I manage to get in another hour or two of sleep before I am awake for the day.  

I commence my new morning routine
, without much thought to the fact that this day means a marked change in our relationship, back to the way we were.  I’m walking through the house with wet hair and talking to Swanks about what “we” might eat for lunch.  For him it’s lettuce, veggies, and some protein as usual.  I’m not sure what I might eat.  My body is a little sore, despite my week of resting and recovery.  Of course, last night’s events after the piano session probably didn’t help my cause.  

I hear a knock at the front door
, and I freeze.  I have never been here by myself with someone knocking at the door.  Do I open it?  Do I ignore it?  I look to the door, then to the clock on the stove.  It’s 12:01pm.  It dawns on me- Macy; we made a date for today at noon.

I open the door to two smiles dazzling before me.
 

“Hey hooker!”
 Macy pulls me into a tight hug, and I groan a little.  “Oh!  I forget that you’re still in a delicate condition.”

“I think that expression usually refers to someone who is pregnant, so I’m going to have to disagree with that and say that I am just still sore,” I explain to Macy.

“Yeah you are…” Macy elbows me playfully and moves her eyebrows up and down in a playful suggestion.  

“No, not like that.”
 I roll my eyes.  “Ok, maybe a little like that, but that’s not the primary source.”

The other smile moves toward me.
 

“Ari, I’m Ross.
 It’s so nice to meet you.  She cannot stop talking about how great and funny you are.”  

He gives me a very light hug.
 Ross is blonde, like Macy, and tall and lean like her as well.  He looks like he was an athlete of some sort in college.  Together, they look like there should be pictures of them on the beach with the wind blowing through their hair in clothing catalogs or billboards.

I shrug, feeling a little flattered.
 

“Well, aren’t you going to be disappointed when you realize that I don’t ever talk and am the reincarnation of Eeyore from
Winnie the Pooh
.”

They both laugh pristine and brilliant laughs.
 If I didn’t know any better, I could almost swear they are related.  Together, they are almost too much gorgeous for one tiny room.  

“We brought food,” Macy Chirps.

“Pasta salad and grilled veggies,” Ross chimes in.  

“You two
are almost so cute, it’s sickening,” I say smiling, then I gasp.

“What?” they ask
, almost in unison.

“I just realized that when you two, Macy and Ross, have children you MUST name them TJ, Dillard, or Penney.”
 I laugh, having amused myself.

They look confused for a minute, then realization meets Ross’ face before Macy’s.
 

“We never really thought about that,” Ross chuckles.
 “I choose TJ.”

Macy wrinkles her nose.
 “TJ?  Uh...no.  It’s totally going to be Dillard.”

“Go for broke and have tw
ins named Neiman and Marcus.”  I smile, looking between the two of them as they look at one another in a way that is described in storybooks and fairytales.  They are the look and epitome of a prince and princess who ride off into the sunset toward their happily ever after.  

I disrupt their cuteness.
 “I’m hungry, so let’s kick this mule!”

Macy, my new friend Ross, and I eat, talk, laugh, and coo over Swanks.
 He soaks up the attention by walking in small circles, rubbing his shell and head against the barstools and our feet, and lowering his head for them to pet him.  Swanks has been a lot happier since he began staying at McCrary’s full-time.  He’s a lot more active, and his eyes look brighter.  I think I’ve even overheard McCrary talking to him every now and then.  Macy and Ross seem to be pretty smitten with him as well.

We decide to move out to the lanai to look over the water.
 

Macy chimes, “This housing is much nicer than ours.”
 

“Well, dear, he’s an O
-4, going on O-5, and I’m an O-3.  Plus, he probably had the means to wait for his choice of housing since he didn’t have a cute blonde bugging him every night about getting into housing quickly.”  

Ross pats Macy’s leg sweetly as she smiles at him, lost in his gaze.

Macy turns to me with some trepidation showing in her eyes.  “Speaking of housing and relationships, what are your plans, Ari?  I mean, you can’t just keep holed up in here forever, can you?”  

I give a half-hearted smile.
 “Nice segue, Mace.”  

She smiles apologetically.
 

“I’m not quite sure.
 Of course I would rather stay here with McCrary, but in spite of my feelings telling me to stay, my brain is telling me it’s not the best for me to stay here.  Not that I think things won’t work out, but there are so many extenuating circumstances that make my shacking up here seem like a bad decision.”

Ross, with his sweet disposition
, looks at me and blinks.  

“Ari, I know we just met in person, but trust me, I know you just as well as your creepiest stalker would
, since Macy has told me every, and I mean
every
, detail about your life.”  

I wonder exactly what
every
detail means, but I keep listening to what Ross has to say.  

“I know how difficult it is to leave the one you love, especially when you had to fight so hard to find them, but I know the Navy ju
st as well, and adultery is not taken lightly.  Regardless of whether you’re estranged or have even filed for divorce, in their eyes, you are married, and to another service member, which is even worse.  For him, it is adultery, and he could be court marshalled, stripped of his rank and/or commission, and fined.  How you two have managed to keep it under wraps this long is beyond me, but this community is very small, and word travels fast.  After he spent time with you at Tripler Hospital, then took you home upon discharge, if you think eyebrows weren’t raised and some questions asked in hushed tones, then you’re smoking some serious crack, and I want to know why you’re not sharing.”

I giggle, but h
is words cause my heart to drop and my chest to constrict.  Ross manages to confirm every fear and worry I’ve been grappling with since the first night I set foot into this house.  I think the writing has been on the wall for quite some time, I just refused to see it.  I value and appreciate Ross’ candor, and his opinion lets me know that my intuition has been right all along.  As saddening and soul-crushing the thought of leaving McCrary for any period of time is, I know it is for the best.  Not only is it the right thing to do in order to protect his career and integrity, but it is important for our relationship that I take some time to finalize my divorce and work on myself.  

After I confirm the decision in my mind and tell myself
, repeatedly, it is indeed for the best, the day turns into one of the longest of my life.

M
cCrary comes home from work as I am attempting to read a book, but am really lost in my thoughts.  As soon as he walks in the door, I can sense tension.  Despite the obvious elephant in the room that is the awkwardness looming, I still swoon at the sight of him in his uniform.  

He smiles warmly as he comes over t
o the couch to kiss me hello.  “Hi honey, I’m home.”

I am happy to see him and relieved he came home to me, despite my anxiety about my
decision to go back to Texas.  “I’m so happy to see you.  Tell me all about your day.”

He untucks his shirt, kicks off his white shoes, and sits next to me.
 

“Oh, you know...same old.
 Clients, cases, calls…”

“You make your job sound so thri
lling, alliteration and all."  I pat him on the shoulder and pretend to pout just a little.

“How was yours?”
 He pats my leg in return.  “Did you have a good date with Macy?”

“I did,” I say, mostly trying to convince myself.
 “It was interesting.”

McCrary looks at me reassuringly and smiles.
 “Hang on just a minute.  I want to hear all about it, but let me change into some clothes that aren’t so stark white and polyester.”

I give him a smile in return.
 “
No problemo, muchacho
.”  

“
Gracias, Carina.  Mucho besos
.”  

He winks before he breezes down the hallway to the bedroom.

I try to gather my thoughts and vocabulary so that I can make sense when I give McCrary the news.  I decide to formulate a prepared speech in my head.  Starting with, “You know I love you, but…” seems a little too abrupt.  Opening with, “We need to talk…” sounds too ominous.  

I’m so lost in my mind,
I don’t even notice that he’s re-entered the room, and is standing by the side of the couch, looking rather dismayed.

“Arielle.”
 

I jump and squeak as his greeting st
artles me out of my thoughts.  “You scared me.  I didn’t realize you were there.”  

I interpret his look as worried and wonder if Macy said something to him.
 I naturally try to lighten the mood.  “What’s up, Buttercup?”

I pat the seat next to me, motioning to him to sit down, which he does, but not moving smoothly as he normally does.

He closes his eyes slowly, pinches the tip of his nose with his fingers, and opens them again with pain-stricken eyes.  

He really must know what’s going on.
 At that moment, I’m ready to kill Macy for blabbing and make a mental note to not trust her with another secret ever again.

Preparing to come out with the truth, I take a deep breath.