The Officer Says "I Do" (23 page)

Veronica started to stand, then looked down and realized she was still in her pajamas. “Uh, if you just give me a minute, I can be out of your way.” Though she still looked a little pale, she wasn’t as shaken as before.

Skye glanced around and realized that since her last visit home, her old room was no longer a shrine to her childhood. Things she didn’t recognize were scattered over the desk and dresser. A skirt she didn’t own was hanging from the closet door. Veronica wasn’t here for a one-night stay. That was certain.

Skye waved her off. “No need. I’m the intruder this late. I’ve got the couch.”

Veronica looked like she wanted to argue, but Amber stepped forward.

“Why don’t we take this reunion downstairs so Veronica can get back to sleep?” her mother suggested gently, guiding Skye and her father out the door. “Veronica, dear, we’ll talk in the morning. Don’t worry about a thing. Go back to sleep.”

The young woman looked unconvinced, and Skye gave her a quick, bright smile. “We’ll catch up tomorrow. I didn’t even know I had a cousin.”

Veronica breathed deeply, letting out a long, low stream of air, as if relieved. “All right. If you’re sure.”

“I am. In the morning, though, you and I will talk.” She shut the bedroom door behind her, noting that even on the way down, a faint glow came from under the crack of the door. Veronica probably still had her bedside lamp on, perhaps still too startled to fall back asleep. Not a great first impression on a relative she didn’t know she had. She’d make it up to her in the morning.

After settling down in the kitchen with a cup of organic herbal tea—her mother’s own blend—Skye sighed. “I’m sorry about that. I should have checked before I climbed, or rather, fell, into bed. I hope I didn’t jump on someone who’s going to be scarred from it or anything.”

Her father waved the worry away, as he did all worries. Peter was a man with nothing on his mind but the positives and the future. The past and negatives were nothing to him. Admirable way to think sometimes. But in other instances, it drove Skye nuts. You couldn’t always ignore the negatives in life. “She’s a tough one; she’ll be fine.”

“So.” Skye blew on her tea. “Cousin, huh?”

“On my side. My brother Ronald’s daughter.” Her mother spoke like Skye had any clue who this Ronald person was. Like it was a well-known fact that her mother didn’t just pop up in a cabbage patch.

Skye wouldn’t have a clue. Her mother never spoke of her family. Ever. Interesting. A relative. Something to think about later.

“Did she have an accent?”

Her father patted her hand. “You can find out tomorrow.”

“But what about—”

Her mother cleared her throat and arched a brow. “Clearly discussing the family tree is not what drove you to our home in the middle of the night. Care to speak of it?”

“No.” Skye knew that would be the end of it. Her parents wouldn’t ask again. They believed all things were revealed on their own time, and if they weren’t revealed, they weren’t meant to be known. Skye agreed… to an extent. But for tonight, knowing she was safe from interrogation was a blessing. “Just needed some home-time.” It was a half-truth anyway. She was too exhausted to get into her marriage tonight.

Her father rubbed her back in soothing circles, just the way he did when she was a child. “You’ve come to the right place then, pumpernickel. Word on the street is this is home for you.”

Skye felt her lips curve, but there wasn’t much humor to the gesture. She should have been back in California, asleep with Tim, his warm weight behind her, curling around her in subconscious protection. Instead, she would climb on the sofa bed and sleep alone. Was she absolutely nuts to give that up, simply to take some time apart?

It’s not nuts if you need it.
And she did. For now, this is what she needed. For once, she could concentrate on her.

Tim rubbed his eyes with his thumbs, completely lost in his thoughts. The Taliban could have blown the battalion building up by now and he wouldn’t have blinked.

He was going to work late. Again. On purpose. The thought of heading home to his empty townhouse disgusted him enough to stay well past the normal quitting hour. What was there to rush home for? An evening alone with a beer and a Hungry Man microwave dinner? God, he missed his wife. Unconventional though she was, the actual life she breathed into his world was a tangible thing. A thing that, without it, made his personal life feel like a big black void. No color. No character. No surprises. Ha. Didn’t he used to hate surprises? Yeah, he had. Then he got the best surprise of all, and he let it slip through his fingers.

Other than the brief voice mail Skye had left on his phone saying that she made it to Texas just fine and not to worry, that she’d given her work notice that she was taking vacation, he hadn’t heard from her. He tried calling a few times, but the first call rang until her voice mail picked up, and the rest of his calls went straight to voice mail, as if her phone wasn’t even on any longer.

He knew that she joked about growing up in a commune, but they had to at least believe in cell phones, right? Who didn’t these days?

“Okay, I’m really sick of the ‘Woe is me, my wife took off so now I’m going to mope’ bullshit. Pull your head out, O’Shay.”

Jeremy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts with a snap. He looked up to see Jer standing in the door of his office, blocking all view of the hallway. Jeremy’s face and body language screamed, “Pissed off Jarhead comin’ at ya.”

“Fuck off.” It was weak, as far as comebacks were concerned. But he knew an answer was expected.

“Aw, honey. Is that any way to talk to your best friend when he brought you lunch?” He tossed a brown sack on the desk, scattering papers. The logo on the bag told Tim there’d be a hoagie from his favorite sub shop inside.

“Thanks. See ya.” Tim turned back to his computer, not even sure what he was looking at.

Jeremy’s fists landed on the desk with a thump, rattling Tim’s empty coffee mug and scattering papers. “No. The three of us are going to sit down and have lunch together, dammit. And if I have to duct tape your ugly ass in your chair to get you to do it, then I will. So don’t make me. It’ll only make you look like a shit.”

Tim looked around the office. “If you haven’t brushed up on your numbers lately, there’s only two of us.”

Jeremy jerked his head and Tim pushed back in his roll chair. A few clicks of the keyboard later, and Dwayne was waving from Tim’s computer screen.

“Damn, took you long enough, Jer!”

“He was resistant.” Jeremy grabbed a chair and swung it around to sit behind the desk.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Intervention,” Dwayne said through the screen with a small smile.

Tim stared at Jeremy. “You’re using Skype to hold an intercontinental intervention?”

“Trust me. If I could kick your ass, I would. So this will have to work.” Dwayne’s voice was a little hollow, carrying an echo through the speakers, but his frustration was clear all the same.

“I filled him in on the situation this morning over email. Well, morning for us. Early evening for him.” Jeremy dug through the bag and tossed Tim a sandwich, pulling one out for himself.

“And what does my deployed therapist have to say?” he said around a bite.

“I’m disappointed.” The words were soft but no less intense for their lack of volume.

Tim stared at the desk, picking a chip in the paint to focus on. “So am I.”

“No. I’m disappointed in you.”

Tim looked out the corner of his eye, but Dwayne had taken the same approach of staring away instead of at the camera. Jeremy, for his part, was retying his bootlaces as if it was the most important thing in the world. “Care to elaborate, Deputy Dwayne?”

Dwayne shook his head, and Tim immediately regretted the swipe. Dwayne was definitely one to prove that though country boys may talk slow, that didn’t mean their minds worked at the same pace. “It’s been almost a week. I thought for sure by now you’d have asked for some leave time, gone down to Texas, and figured out how to bring Skye back. But you haven’t.”

Tim didn’t have an answer for that. It was the truth. He hadn’t requested leave, hadn’t made plans to head down to Texas. Other than those calls, he hadn’t made the effort at all. He’d been just waiting. Waiting on word from Skye. Waiting on papers from a lawyer. On a smoke signal. Anything. But why should he put forth the effort to chase after a woman who didn’t want him?

“Because you love her,” Dwayne answered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be able to read a person’s mind.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t have to.”

“Shouldn’t you be out doing deployment-type things?” Tim asked without any heat.

Dwayne just smiled. “It’s my downtime. I’m seven and a half hours ahead of you. I’ll be climbing in my rack once we’re done kicking your ass.”

Tim glanced at Jeremy, who was still focused on his boots. “And what do you think, oh Quiet One?”

Jeremy shrugged and said nothing, but Tim wasn’t about to let it slide.

“Put up or shut up, jackass. You were against the marriage from the start. And you sure as hell weren’t quiet about your opinions when I first said we were going to make it work. I can’t believe you have absolutely nothing to say about the situation now. So speak up.”

Jeremy let his boot drop back down to the ground, watched the papers on the floor rustle and settle. Then he looked at Tim, eyes focused and intense. “I just can’t believe what a coward you are.”

Tim sucked in a breath.
Coward
my
ass.
He was ready to nail a good right hook, but Dwayne grunted and muttered, “Don’t do it.”

“Yeah, I was against the marriage. Can you blame me? You come home from Vegas, and you don’t even know you’re married. Then some woman shows up with a certificate and some pictures saying you tied the knot. You knew her less than a day, and suddenly you were going to make it work? Sorry for looking out for my friend.” Jeremy shook his head. “But I know you’re not an idiot. And as much as I wanted your best interest, you were determined. Determined enough, I thought, to see it through. Now shit’s gone tits-up and you’re diving into the foxhole. You just wait for her to make the next move. That’s not you, man. And if I thought you were happy without her, I might let it go. But you’re a fucking wreck.”

Dwayne scoffed at that. “Dude’s right. I’m not even gone a month and everything falls apart. You look like hell. If you feel half as bad as your face says you do, then this plan’s not working for you.”

Tim couldn’t argue.

“So yeah, I’m actually with D on this one. If you’re ready to call it quits, then call it quits. Draw up papers. But if you want her so bad—and you act like you do—then fucking do something. Don’t sit here and mope around like someone stole your car and ran over your dog, for crissake.”

As much as Tim wanted to slug him for the insult, the truth was the truth. “Shit,” he murmured.

“Shit,” Dwayne and Jeremy echoed. Surround sound from round the world. Great.

He’d messed up. Somehow, things had gone wrong in his marriage. In his life, period. And it was time he stopped sitting back on his heels and watching it fall away. Time for some affirmative action.

***

Skye’s arms ached after carrying the last of the boxes in from the makeshift loading dock. Her parents’ little “mom and pop” organic grocery store had grown leaps and bounds since they set up shop over twenty years ago on the commune. They had been successful, providing a healthy, happy, and stable—if a bit unorthodox—childhood for Skye. And if they’d had to live off of what they sold to the community and random passersby alone, they would have been just fine. But although they believed in grass roots and investing in your own community first, her parents weren’t idiots. The minute the organic wave hit mainstream America, they set up a serious web presence, shipping organic herbs and spices and other all-natural food items directly from their store to countless homes across the country.

“Mom?” She dusted her palms on her flowing capri pants. “Where are you?”

“In the office.”

Skye grabbed her Nalgene from the mini-fridge under the counter and headed back to the office, rubbing the cold material against her neck to cool her off. She stopped in the doorway and just watched while her mother moved around the office, searching for who knew what. Her tank top was wrinkled and stuck to her back thanks to the humidity. The long skirt draped and swished around her ankles, showing off her bare feet. Skye knew the material for the skirt would have been made in the commune, likely by their neighbors, the Vecheks. Whenever physically possible, her parents shopped in-commune.

“What are you looking for?”

Her mother didn’t jolt at the sound of her voice. Neither of her parents were ever shocked by anything. As if they had some sort of mysterious, uncanny way of knowing someone or something was behind them at all times. “A tax form. I’m sure I placed it around here somewhere.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t important,” Skye joked and sipped water. Now this was a familiar sight. In her parents’ quest to remain carefree, details were often left behind. Swept under some mental rug, not to be dealt with again until physically necessary.

Without turning around, her mother asked, “Are you almost done?”

“Yeah, finished bringing in the last box. It was a heavy one. But everything is in the back, in order. I’ll unpack it here in a minute.”

She held up a paper, shook her head, and put it back. “No. I mean are you done hiding?”

The question almost had Skye dropping her bottle. “Hiding?”

The file cabinet shut with a metallic scrape that had Skye wanting to cringe. Her mother turned then and sat on the corner of the desk, the form completely forgotten. “Sweetheart, you know your father and I love you to pieces. And you are welcome anytime, as long as you want. But you’re not here for a visit. You’re here to hide.”

“No.” Skye took a deep breath. “I’m here to give myself some space. To figure out what I want. To remember who I am.”
Please
don’t push me. I don’t want to think about this.

Her mother sighed, as if the answer was so obviously wrong. “You are who you are. And you always will be. What worries you so much, sweetheart?”

When Skye showed up on her parents’ doorstep five days earlier, she had only given the basics of the situation. Her fast marriage with Tim. Their choice to work through it. That she needed a little time to process because of how rapidly things were changing. Her parents didn’t press for more—Skye never expected them to. They likely had some theory about the great earth mother or the wind goddess blowing her into their paths or something. Who knew. But she knew she was at least safe from interrogation.

“I’m just worried. I thought that the whole thing was a sign. Fate. That despite our differences, Tim and I were supposed to be together. But I don’t think he can be with me as I am. And I can’t be the woman he’s always needed. It’s not in me.”

Her mother was silent a moment. “We can only be ourselves in the long run. Everyone can be someone else for a time. Actors have jobs for a reason. But eventually, our true natures win out. You never could have been someone else for long, even if you tried. It would have broken you.” A soft hand caressed her cheek. “And you’re too special to break.” Then her mother stood back up and started shifting through files again. Such was Amber’s way. Just like that, the conversation was forgotten. Not because it wasn’t important. But because it wasn’t in the now.

Skye walked out to the main grocery portion of the store where her father was helping a family load their pickup truck with boxes of something. She brought the last box out to the pickup truck and watched her father give a fond farewell.

“Regulars?” Skye took a seat on the top porch step.

“Yup.” Her father sat beside her. “Drive over twice a month from the city for the organic selection.”

“Good news for you.”

“Hmm.” He stared out into the road, dust still settling from the departing truck. “Am I ever going to meet this man you’ve married?”

Great question. “Soon, Daddy.”
If
I
still
have
a
husband.
“He’s got a lot on his plate now with work.”

“A Marine.” Her father rubbed a toe in the dirt. “I’m not quite sure where we went wrong…”

She sighed. “You didn’t go wrong. He’s just the man I fell in love with.” Saying it out loud, for the first time, only reaffirmed that truth. And strengthened her resolve to face the music and do her best to make things work. And work for them both. They couldn’t continue on the way they were, with one pretending to be something she wasn’t.

“But he carries a gun, Skye Meadow. And uses intimidation and force to get what he wants.”

“In his job. Which protects the right for you to sit here and own this store. He’s not some gun-toting mercenary that just runs around scaring people all day to get what he wants, Dad.” Wow. Where did
that
come from? She checked her rising anger and forced herself to speak more calmly. “He’s my husband. So please, just let that all go?”

Her father nodded but still didn’t look at her. She placed a hand on her father’s shoulder and stood up, going back inside to the air-conditioned store. Behind her, Peter muttered something about the evils of war and how the human race was one step away from blowing the planet to bits. She let the front door shut tightly behind her.

Veronica stood behind the cash register, thoughtfully quiet as always. Skye was determined to make a friend out of this woman. They were complete opposites. But at the same time, Skye could appreciate how composed she was, sweet and even funny in a shy sort of way. The only problem was she wasn’t all that open. Yet. But if her parents and the community had taught Skye anything, it was that a blank sheet was nothing but possibilities waiting to happen.