He shakes his head. “Of course not. We know you had shit in your head to work out. Glad it’s finally worked out. Four years is a long time to let your guilt fester.”
I spent the majority of those four years deployed without any time to let my ‘guilt fester’. But I’m not about to start making excuses with him.
“How do you—”
His chuckle cuts me off. “You think we don’t know how you feel about Bill’s death?” He frowns. “We may be small town, but we’re not stupid.”
I help Mom set the table and then we settle down to eat pot roast and mashed potatoes.
“Tell us about the girl.” I nearly choke at Mom’s words.
“What girl?”
“You think we can’t tell you have a woman?” Dad asks. “We know you, son.”
“Also, I ran into Liz’s mother at the grocery store, and she told me all about this mysterious woman who dropped by Liz’s house all riled up to fix you.”
“She’s not my girl. And I’m mad at her,” I growl, although my initial anger has faded. Suzie may have overstepped, but she did it with the best of intentions. I’m half-way to forgiving her already.
“Sounds like she’s a firecracker,” Dad says. The approval is clear to see in his face.
“You haven’t even met her.”
“Anyone who would drive all the way up here to talk to a woman she doesn’t know to help you gets a gold star from me.” Mom was a first-grade teacher. To her, getting a gold star is the highest praise possible.
“You don’t know the whole story.”
Mom waves a hand to dismiss my complaints. “I know enough.”
“I saw Liz,” I say to end this conversation about me and Suzie.
“Oh, how’s Liz?” Mom goes for nonchalant but she’s sending Dad furtive glances.
Shit. I stepped through the flames into the fire with my remark. The last thing I want to talk about is Liz.
When I don’t answer, Mom prattles on. “She’s dating a lovely man. He recently moved here to coach the football team. Grayson adores him.”
I nearly choke. “He’s met Grayson?”
“Of course.”
The conversation falls away and we finish dinner in silence. My mind is whirling as I eat. I can’t believe Liz is moving on from Bill. He’s the love of her life. Or, I guess, he was the love of her life.
After dinner, Mom hustles us out of the kitchen so she can do the dishes in peace, and Dad asks if I want to go for a walk. It’s ten below out, but we always do our best talking while we’re moving.
“You going to let your guilt continue to ruin your life or are you going to move on now you see Liz is happy and has moved on herself?”
“Wow. You dove right in.”
“No sense beating around the bush.”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
I’m not avoiding his question. I don’t know the answer. Can I get over my guilt? No matter what Liz says, I am the reason her husband – my best friend – is dead.
Dad doesn’t respond. He knows he’s got me thinking, which was his intention. We walk until the sun sets and it’s too cold to continue. I haven’t come to a conclusion by the time we return home, although I do think it may be time for me to start living in the present and stop wallowing in the past. Maybe it’s time I talk to someone.