“I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” Kit said from across me at the kitchen table. “This is delicious.”
It actually wasn’t bad, and I was proud of myself. I had baked the chicken breasts that Kit found in the freezer, and served it along with broccoli and potato salad. Though I had to ask Kit for help in the kitchen, I did most of the work on my own.
I could feel him watching me the whole time, as if what I was doing was nothing short of astounding. Okay, I might have exaggerated my skill, a bit, but it was nice that he was impressed by me.
Kit was not much of a talker, but I was happy for us to eat with only the fury of the wind howling outside.
Finally, Kit pushed his plate away, and sighed with satisfaction. “That was really good. I don’t remember the last time I was this stuffed.”
I grinned happily. “Good! I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
I finished my last bite and pushed my plate away, too.
“I’ll wash up,” he said, getting up.
“I’ll help.”
I brought the plates to the sink. He washed and I dried in companionable silence. We worked well together. It was domesticated and cozy. When the last spoon had been dried, and put away, I turned towards him. “Want me to read some more? We’re almost done with the book.”
“No, why don’t we have coffee in the living room? It’ll be more comfortable, and you can curl up on the couch with a blanket.”
I followed him into the living room where the howl of the wind against the windows was more pronounced. I curled up on one side of the couch as Kit knelt at the fireplace and stoked the flames. When he was done he walked across the room and returned with a thick, soft blanket. He pressed it into my hands.
“I’ll go make the coffee. You bundle up,” he said. “The house doesn’t have much in the way of insulation, so it gets pretty damn cold even with the fire.”
I sat listening to the fire crackle and the wolves moving around outside on the porch. It sounded as though there were dozens of them out there, gathering close to each other for warmth. They were hunkering down, much like we were, to ride out the storm.
Kit came in with the coffee, his footsteps muted. I curled my hands around the hot mug and took a sip. It was done just right with two sugars. He settled himself into the armchair opposite me and we drank our coffee together. The warmth of the fire had relaxed him, making him more talkative. He told me about his mother and how he hadn’t been home for close to a decade.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t be the hero she wants me to be.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, surprised.
He made a soft sound of regret. “She was so proud when I enlisted. She told all the neighbors and put up a flag outside the house. She thought I’d be going home decorated with medals. It didn’t happen that way. PTSD is not a medal she can boast about in her garden club.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think your mother loves you no matter what and wants you back.”
“You don’t know my mother, then. At least, if I don’t go back she can still pretend to her friends that I’m some sort of hero. No one but her will know about her misfortune of having the kind of son I have turned out to be.”
“I think she is so lucky. You are still alive. So what if you didn’t win any medals?” I cried passionately. “I would give anything to have my father and brother back. I wouldn’t care if they wore medals, or were suffering from PTSD. I just want them back. No matter what.”
Kit’s voice was quiet. “What happened to them?”
That old ping of pain was back, right in the center of my chest. I pulled the blanket closer around me, feeling suddenly cold, despite the roaring fire. “My father was killed by an IED in Afghanistan.” My voice sounded husky. “And my brother was shot in Iraq. At first they thought he would make it. They even flew him back, but he died in the hospital.”
Kit drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“In a way, losing my brother was even harder. My Ma and I went from terror to hope and then to complete loss. He was so young. It was not right. Nobody should die that young.” A shiver went through me. “He had so many dreams. For a long time, I hated the Military and I couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as a soldier.”
I stopped and blinked back the tears.
“And now?” he asked, his voice filled with some unknown emotion.
“Now I’ve come to terms with it a little. I know Pa and Brad made that choice willingly. They were proud to serve their country. Just like they made their choice, I’ve made my decision too. I will never ever become involved with someone in the military.”
He made a strange sound in his throat.
“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind if he had been in the military. I just can’t do active military duty,” I added, and felt my neck and cheeks becoming hot. I hoped I wasn’t being too obvious that as far as I was concerned he wasn’t on my NEVER EVER list.
I rushed on with more words. “It’s just that being married to a soldier takes a certain strength that I do not possess. I would spend my whole life terrified of losing him. I know what my mother went through. Losing her men broke her. After that she was never the same. Even when she was diagnosed with cancer she wasn’t interested in healing herself. She went for one round of chemo then she just gave up. Before she died she apologized to me. She said she knew she was being a terrible mother to me, but she just couldn’t go on anymore. So you see the army took my whole family away from me.”
There was a long silence before Kit spoke again.
“Have you got no other family?” he asked.
“My grandparents from my mother’s side are still alive. They moved to Florida when I was a small child, but we’re not close. They just send me a present for Christmas, usually books.”
“I respect your decision, but just to play devil’s advocate. Not having someone you love in the army is not a guarantee that you won’t lose him. You could lose him in any way. A car crash. A plane goes down. Even a slip and fall at home that happens at just the wrong angle. That’s what happened to my grandfather.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Kit.”
Kit cleared his throat. “I was just a baby. I didn’t know him. He tripped on something in the barn and hit his head hard on the corner of the old plow. And that was it …”
I nodded. “I know my view doesn’t seem logical to you, but hurt is not logical. My view isn’t logical at all, but to my heart, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
There was a long moment of silence.
“You must understand. You lost that woman friend you were so impressed with.”
“Yeah, I understand. Sometimes things happen that make no sense at all.” His voice was suddenly low and sad. He shuffled his feet. The couch moved a bit as he shifted around to his side. Outside, the wind dropped to a low moan. A branch scratched incessantly at the window. Inside, it was warm, safe, and intimate.
“What was her name?” I asked.
Twenty-three
Lara
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqIxCtEveG8
“Valerie. Valerie Pearlman.”
“Tell me about her,” I asked softly.
“There are a lot of guys who claim they’re cool with women in the military, but when it comes down to brass tacks, they really aren’t. They can’t help feeling that somehow they’re going to have to cover or compensate for her. After all, there’s no escaping from the fact that women are physically weaker than men.”
Kit snorted. “Well, they never met Valerie Pearlman. Damn if that woman didn’t run circles around all of us. She was tougher than tough. She showed every one of us! Whatever biases I might have had vanished after my first tour with her. She was, well, she was just something else. I don’t know whether it was because she was the bravest person I ever met or the most foolish, by the end of the tour she had become my strongest ally.”