“Paulie,” I broke in. “Now’s not the time, okay?”
“He needs to talk about it.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“And he will. When he’s ready. Give him space.” I stood up, much slower than the other two had, and eased in front of Jackson to put myself between them. “Why not have another beer? Hang out a while. I need to beg Jackson to take me home anyway. My hip’s acting up.”
My hip was not acting up. Jackson, though. I could tell the party had ended for him. He’d spend the rest of the night defensive, snappish, and pensive, which he wouldn’t want to take out on the others. As their commanding officer, he’d feel obligated to stay and support his team. I’d provide a convenient excuse to bail.
There would be other team barbecues. Perhaps we’d throw one in our backyard next time. We’d definitely deal with this sore spot before we texted invites.
Xasan walked Jackson to the gate. As I followed, I felt a piece of paper pressed into my hand. Jiaying stood behind me, a somber look on her face.
“My number,” she said. “For when you need to call.”
When. Not if. I nodded, gave her a brief hug, and followed my upset husband to his pickup.
16PAY STUBS FOR THE WAGES OF WAR
Jackson saidnothing on the way home. I ventured a couple half-hearted attempts to talk about Jiaying and Xasan, their lush backyard, and if we should have bought their model of grill instead, but I got nowhere. Halfway back, I surrendered to the silence and watched the city drift by in the darkness.
My husband stormed straight towards the bedroom when we walked into the house, but stopped at the head of the hallway that lead to it. “I guess I’m not the hero you thought you’d be marrying,” he said, voice sharp with pain and serrated with shame.
I paused at the threshold to the laundry room, where I’d meant to put his clothes into the dryer. “Bad guess. You’re twice the hero I thought I’d be marrying.”
“Bullshit.” He folded his arms across his chest in a tight hold. Threatening posture, emotional defense. Words tore out of him in an ugly sneer. “You’re the fucking hero medic who wouldn’t leave a patient. Oh, yeah, I shielded him with my own goddamn body while the sky dropped fucking softballs on me, I got run over by a fucking truck for fuck’s sake, but that’s just duty. ‘Cause we don’t leave a man behind, and I’m a good soldier. Not like my asshole husband.”
Well, shit.
Pieces of a puzzle I didn’t know I’d been putting together dropped into place. How stricken he’d looked when I’d said I wouldn’t leave a patient. The defensiveness about his scars, some of which I would have bet my coffee maker came from the engagement when he’d left someone behind.
Shame is a hell of a drug. It leads to secrets, resentment, and angry outbursts after unfortunate barbecues.
I took a deep breath and let it out again, imagining all my defensive energy and quick assurances gusting away with it. “That’s not what I think. I don’t know what happened, but I can say with certainty that I willneverthinkthat.If you left a soldier behind, Jackson, I assume you had a good reason for it. Was it on Mars?”
“Where the hell else would it be?” His arms tightened further. I could see his muscles ripple with the effort.
“Then I’d imagine that explains it,” I said. By then, I’d turned to fully face him, and I let my arms dangle loose in front of me, hands clasped, the opposite of his gesture.
Pitch your body language to what you want from the other person, and they may mimic you. What the body does, the mind does. All I hoped for was to de-escalate this talk into a gentler, open conversation.
Jackson did not want that. He remained closed and tense. “What does Mars have to do with it?”
“Everything, and I think you know that, deep down. Mars is deadly. I might not havecompletedMars survival training, but I did get most of the way through. They tell us right away that you have to save yourself if you want to save someone else. And that you might have to make hard choices.” I caught his gaze.
His eyes bored into mine, then he looked away. “There’s never an excuse to leave someone behind.”
“There really is. That’s true on Earth as much as Mars, but it’sespeciallytrue on Mars. Maybe your wounded has a ripped suit sealed by pressure against the ground, or your own suit has a tear in it. There are absolutely situations where youhaveto leave someone behind.”
I couldn’t have guessed it would be the wrong thing to say. Maybe there wasn’t a right thing to say at all. Jackson had picked this fight, and he would see it through to the bitter, snarling end.
“That’s easy for you to say,” he snapped. “You’re good at leaving things behind when you’re not playing doctor.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re good at walking away. You couldn’t even stick by your family.”
Foul ball. Off the bat and into the stands. One out.
“We left the barbecue before dessert,” I said, smothering the anger in my voice because it wouldn’t help. A doctor’s enforced calm would have to do, since I didn’t have much else to pull out of my hat. “I’m going to go get ice cream. We can talk about this more when I get back.”