of my girlfriends to cover for me, we’d take Sunday afternoon walks by the river.” Her smile was full of memories. “Then one day, right before my eighteenth birthday, his number came up on the draft lottery. Turns out he was one of the last, but we didn’t know that at the time.”
“He went to Vietnam?” Maddie asked her.
“Yes he did. He was placed into the Marines after basic training. And while he was away he sent me the sweetest letters. He’d talk about what we’d do when I turned eighteen. Told me about his dream of a pretty white house full of children.” Gina pressed her lips together. “And then one day the letters stopped. And I couldn’t talk to my parents about it, because then they’d never let me see him again. So I’d come home from school and check the mailbox every day.”
“Did they start again?”
As if she hadn’t heard her question, Gina continued, “So I started to hang around his parents’ house. Just to see if the mailman delivered any letters there. His mom must have noticed me lingering, because one day she asked me to come in for a glass of lemonade.” Gina took a deep breath. “That’s when she told me about the visit she’d had that morning from a Marine Corps colonel. According to her, the poor man looked so white she was afraid he was going to faint. Then he told her about David. How he’d fought bravely but had died of gunshot wounds in battle.” She looked at Maddie. “He’d only been there for two months.”
Maddie’s chest ached. “Did you go to his funeral.”
Gina shook her head. “They buried him in a military cemetery miles away from town. I’d have had to ask my father, and explain why. I wasn’t brave enough to do that.”
“That’s so sad.” Maddie blinked away her tears. “What a waste of a life.”
“It really was. And for a while it felt like my life was over, too. No pretty white house, no picket fence. But do you know what the worst thing was?”
“What?” Maddie asked softly, her head tipped to one side.
“Not being able to tell anybody how sad I was. Not being able to talk about what I’d lost. Looking back, I wish I’d been braver. Told my parents about David and how I felt about him. Maybe then I wouldn’t have bottled it all up and felt like I was dying inside.”
“It sounds like you were very brave to me,” Maddie told her. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It’s okay. These things often turn out for the best. Being single and alone meant I could take care of my sister’s children when she died too young. Maybe that was God’s plan for me all along.”
For a moment Maddie wondered if that was God’s plan for her, too. Whether she was supposed to be there for Carter and Grace the way Gina had been there for Gray and his siblings.
“But you’re not like me,” Gina told her. “And we live in different times. There’s no need to hide the way you feel about somebody any more.” She looked right at Maddie, her brows rising up.
She knew.
Maddie had no idea how much, or how she’d found out, but she knew.
And for some reason, right now that felt reassuring.
“I just hope he’s okay,” she whispered.
“I do, too. But I want him to be more than okay. I want him to be happy. And I have a feeling he hasn’t been happy for a long time.”
“But—” Maddie started to protest.
Gina held up her hand. “Oh, I know he’s successful with all those hit songs and Grammys and goodness only knows what else. But those things aren’t what make us happy. They’re just little bits of sparkle on the cake. But it’s the cake that matters. That’s what sustains us, keeps us going. Anything else will rot your teeth.”
“I want him to be happy, too,” Maddie admitted.
Gina smiled. “Well that’s half the battle. The other half is allowing yourself to be happy. Do you think you’re up for that?”
* * *
“If you have any pain, you can take ibuprofen or acetaminophen. No aspirin, though. We don’t want to thin your blood. The dressing will need to be changed in twenty-four hours. Your family doctor will be able to do that for you, but if you have any problems, give us a call.” The nurse smiled at him. “If you notice any increase in pain or oozing from the wound, come in right away. The stitches should dissolve in a couple of weeks, and we’d advise you to rest your hand until then.”
Gray looked at his bandaged hand. There were eight stitches holding the wound closed. They’d injected it with a local anesthetic before closing it up, and thankfully right now he felt no pain at all.
“And no more messing around on roofs,” the nurse told him. “Leave that to the professionals.”
“I plan to.” Gray managed a smile. “Can I go now?”
“Of course. I’ll walk you to the waiting room.”