"I know," I say, "but it's better than walking down Main Street wearing one shoe and a ripped up dress."
Greta presses a hand on her heart. "Oh, sweetie. You've been through so much." She leaves not long after, after depositing a stack of yoga pants, jeans, T-shirts and a few cardigans on the end of the bed in the guest room.
After she leaves, Jake and I turn to one another.
A man I just met. And here we are, all alone.
My shoulders settle as I realize there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
7
JAKE
Standing there alone with Faith in my mom's hallway, there's an urgency inside of me, a need to step closer, to wrap my arms around her, to hold her tight. I'm not going to do that. I'm way too much of a gentleman to step out of bounds. But then, as if reading my mind, she steps forward.
"This might sound strange," she says, looking up at me, "but I could really use a hug."
"It doesn't sound strange at all," I say, stepping toward her and wrapping my arms around her body. I thought she was fragile, like a bird blowing in the wind, but when I wrap my arms around this girl, I'm reminded that she is a pillar of strength. She's been through hell and here she is, still standing, stronger than I realized even, because she asked for what she needs. She needs me.
I breathe her in, hating the fact her heart’s been wounded, her body's been bruised. I feel her chest rise and fall as she inhales and lets out a slow, drawn out breath.
"You smell like apple pie," she says, laughing, looking up at me. "I'm sorry. Is that weird to say to you? Are you that wholesome?"
I pull back, looking down at her. "I'm not as wholesome as you think."
"Your mom told me you've been to war, that you just got home."
"She told you all that when she was showing you the guest room?"
Faith smiles. "Ladies like to talk. Jake, I'm really thankful that you were the one who found me. No wonder I felt so safe in your arms, safe with you at my bedside when the police were there. I just... I needed you today, not just a man like you, but you."
"I’m glad it was me there, too." I clear my throat. "I hate the idea of you lying in those woods for any longer, alone." I swallow.
Faith reaches up, runs her hand through the hair around my ear. "Are you sure you shouldn’t be out there at the parade today? You're the hero in this town."
I press my lips into a line. "I don't feel like a hero."
"Wanna tell me about it?" she asks.
"Not really," I say. “Haven't you figured out I don't really like talking about myself?"
"I didn't mean to pry," she says.
"Hey, come on. Let's grill up some burgers. I think there's some potato salad. We can cook and talk."
She nods, recognizing my need to change the subject. "That sounds good."
"Do you want some more iced tea?"
"Sure," she says. "Thank you." I get the hamburger patties out of the refrigerator and grab myself a beer.
"If you'd rather, I have beer. My mom's got some wine."
"Iced tea's good. I'm on some pain medication. I probably shouldn't have anything stronger than the caffeine."
"Good point," I say, then we head out to the back patio of my mom's place. I light the grill and toss the patties on. "Are you a rare, medium or well-done kind of girl?" I ask her.
She smiles, taking a seat at the patio table. "Medium."
"Same," I say, giving her a grin. "So you wanted to know about my torrid past?"
Faith smiles. "I'm not prying. I promise."
"It's okay. I guess I know everything about you. Well, not everything. I mean, I know all about what led you to today. I guess it's only fair I fill in some blanks." Faith listens, intently nodding and asking questions as I tell her about my last tour of duty being in Iraq, in combat, losing two soldiers at my side. "We shouldn't have even been there," I say. “We were supposed to move out the day before. And then just like that, they were gone." I run a hand over my jaw. "That's why I didn't feel like going to the parade. I feel like I failed, you know? If I had been a better man, I wouldn't have lost my buddies. They'd still be here.”
"Don't do that," Faith says.
"Do what?" I ask as I flip the burgers.
"Minimize your life. What you were doing over there was fighting for freedom, for peace. You are a hero, even if you don't feel it. And so were your friends."
"Damn," I say, looking over at her. "How do you seem to always know the exact right thing to say? You just met me and yet, I feel like you know me."