by Brooke May
The reunions I witness sting a little more each time like a slap across the face because I know I could have had this every single time with Patience if I hadn’t left that night. If I had just told her my plans, she would be mine.
I still hope she can be part of them now.
I’m a fucking moron.
Even though the airport has so many travelers trying to reach their gates and others waiting, every single person stands and applauds as I walk down the terminal. Ducking my head, I try to hide the hint of a smile forming on my face and the tears slowly building up in the corners of my eyes like they do each time this happens. This may not look like much to a civilian, but to me and my brothers and sisters in uniform, this thanks is one of the best parts of our job.
When I finally reach my gate, I am greeted warmly by the lady at the counter and the people waiting to board. When I finally board and get to my seat, I rest my head against the back and allow my eyes to drift closed. I’m so close to home. The closest I’ve been since I left for basic.
Once everyone gets on the plane, the doors are sealed and we start to taxi. Keeping my eyes closed, I think of Patience and try to imagine what she looks like now. Is her hair still as long as it was when we were growing up? Us boys had always protested when she threatened to cut it, but now that we’re gone, did she finally go through with what we thought was an empty threat?
Are her eyes still as bright and as unique as they were?
I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I talked to my mom two weeks ago. Hell, to be completely honest, I have never really stopped thinking about her. It burned like the fires of hell when I found out she got married and went to Alabama with Greg. I was and still am pissed she wasted her time with him when she could have been—should have been—with me.
I’ve dreamed of her. Thought about her whenever my mind was free to roam. Her pictures stayed with me, and her image, laughter, the way she felt whenever I touched her, and her scent have been engrained into every fiber of me. No matter where she is or where I am, I remember her.
The women I’ve been with since leaving home have never compared to her. They paled and disappeared even during their times in my bed. I felt like shit for never feeling what I felt with Patience.
Lying awake at night after the women were sleeping off the exhaustion from their orgasms, I would think about Patience and whether she felt the same way time after time with Greg. That train of thought would only piss me off, and I would end up losing my temper and kicking whoever out of my bed to go down to find a gym or something to take out my aggression on.
But never once did I pick up the phone to call the number I have memorized better than my own parents’ or type out an email or write a letter to send to her. I refused to subject myself to the chance of rejection each of those could give me.
What if she has kids now?
Mom never mentioned anything like that, but Patience could have children now who need her more than I ever could. It’s a haunted, chilling thought that she may have given birth to Greg’s kids who would always link her to him.
For the remainder of my flight, I’m lost in other issues. I don’t know how I’m going to broach the subject with my parents about the reason I was medically discharged from service. I know they are going to ask, and everything my therapist has told me is to be up front with them.
Easier said than done.
By the time I touch down in Great Falls, I can’t get off the plane quick enough because I know someone is waiting for me.
The sight of my mom waiting for me outside of the airport, cradling herself in her arms never looked so welcoming. A watery smile forms on her face as I get closer and she realizes it’s truly me. I take my time to reach her, restraining myself when all I want to do is run up, scoop her into my arms, and squeeze her.
I’m walking slowly to steady my erratic heartbeat.
The smile on my face begins to ache as I drop my bag at our feet and just stare down at her.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Oh, my boy.” Her arms uncoil from around her only to wrap around me. I waste no time picking her up and letting her love envelop me. I’ve missed this so much. If I wasn’t such a coward, I could have had this each and every time I was on leave.
“I’ve missed you.” She tried her best to make it to wherever I came into the country, but the last few times have been too difficult and expensive. I haven’t actually seen my dad since I graduated from boot camp.
“You’re home, really home,” she cries into my neck. I never felt as tall as I do with my mom hanging in my arms, her feet at least another foot off the ground.
“I am.”
“I prayed for you to come home safely and you did.” She pulls back and with a tear-filled smile, she grins up at me. “You can put me down now, sweet boy.”
“Sure.” I look around and feel a fringe of sadness when I don’t spot my dad. “Where’s Dad?”
“At home.” She sighs. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get him to come. We’ve been trying to get ready for winter, and things just keep happening. Come on.” She tries to grab my bag, but I stop her.
“I’ve got this.” Lifting it again, I fall into step next to her. “What’s been going on?” It doesn’t take us long to reach her car. Once we’re inside, and she makes sure I’m buckled up, she takes off and then answers me.
“The market prices of cattle are lower than normal this year.” She shakes her head and glances over at me. “You would think with beef prices going up, cattle would too.”
“I don’t know what to say, Mom. I’m no good at market shit like that.” I shrug. I’m not book smart when it comes to all those numbers. I’m going to have to wise up if I plan on helping out.
“It’s been tough and now with the tractor …” She trails off. “Oh, why am I bothering you with all of this? You just landed and have plenty of time to get caught up.” Laughing it off, she has to know I’m not going to let this go the easily. “Here, I brought you this.” Carefully picking up a white box from the back seat, she sets it on my lap.
Opening it, I find a single German chocolate cupcake nestled inside.
“You learned to bake?” I raise a brow at her. I never once ate a single cake, cookie, muffin, or anything else that has been considered a baked good she made while growing up. Dad’s old cow dog, Dog, wouldn’t even touch them.
“Hell no, I bought it before I came to get you.”
“Thank you.” I fail epically at keeping the relief from my voice. Keeping my eyes on the cupcake, I address her. “What’s wrong with the tractor?”
“It caught fire last week. I didn’t want to bother you when you were already trying to get home.”
“I would still like to know, Mom.”
“I know that, but your father …” She huffs; we both know how exasperating my dad can be. “But you’re home now, and you can help take some of the pressure off both him and me.” Reaching over, she squeezes my hand. “So, how was it? Did you ever get to see any of the guys?” The excitement she carries reminds me of a kid.
“Not really. I only saw one of them in passing. It was difficult, considering we all served in different branches.”
“That stinks. Who did you get to see?”
“Decker. I was on the ship he was stationed on, so I was able to see him for a few months. It was nice to reunite with him.”
“And the others? Do you still talk to them?”
“Emails mainly, but I haven’t seen them.” I look back at the cupcake. “I should have known you didn’t make it. It’s not burned, the frosting isn’t runny, and it’s too decorative for you to accomplish.” Smiling, I earn a glare from her.
“Shut up and eat your damn cupcake before I steal it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The first bite literally melts in my mouth, dissolving into pure sugar heaven. “’oly shit,” I mutter with my mouth full.
“I thought your first meal on American soil should be something ah-mazing.”
“Holy fuck, Mom. Where the hell did you get these, and can we stop to get more before we head home?” I take another bite, followed by another. This is fucking amazing.
“Do they taste familiar to you?” Her head tilts up, and she glances at me from the corner of her eye.
I roll some of the cupcake on my tongue and try to place the taste. It is familiar, but I can’t …
Holy shit.
“This is Mamie’s German chocolate cake recipe.”
“Yep.” She nods happily.
“How is that possible?” Patience’s grandma passed away in our junior year.
“There is a café in the LaClare grocery store.” She evades my question. “They specialize in baked goods, coffees, and sometimes have candies for the holidays.”
“That’s awesome, but what does it have to do with Mamie’s recipe?”
Her smile grows, wide and full of mischief, and then she taps her nose. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
Chapter Five
Patience
PULLINING INTO MY USUAL parking spot in front of my family’s grocery store, I’m shivering uncontrollably. I was born and raised here, but I don’t think I will ever adapt to the cold once it breaks every winter.
I wasn’t made for the freezing temperatures, but I can’t take the heat of the South either. And winter hasn’t even truly set in yet. It probably doesn’t help that my car is a massive moving piece of shit. The heat has never worked, but neither does the air conditioning.
“Should have just kept your truck, dumbass,” I mutter, teeth chattering as I get out and walk up to open the store. Mom and Dad should be along any minute to get their departments opened for the day.
I can barely feel the buttons as I tap in the security code on the inside wall by the front door. It was in the sixties yesterday, so I honestly wasn’t ready for the bitter cold to settle in overnight. I should have never cut my hair last night. But I needed something to help prove to the world that the new and improved Patience LaClare was here to stay.
“Fuck.” Curling into myself, I make my way over to my little café and continue to shiver. I should have not skipped my coffee this morning, but after the day I had yesterday, I needed a little extra sleep more than I needed caffeine.
Keeping all my warm clothes on, I make my way through the store to turn on the lights and get the radio going. Centennial is so small that we only have two stations, rock and country, so I settle on one of them. I’m making my way to the café just as my parents walk in and the scent of coffee in the air makes my mouth water.
“Good morning, Patience.” My mom’s beam is short lived, and a pensive glare settles on my dad’s face. I didn’t tell them what I was planning on doing to my hair. I took a personal day to be in court and deal with the shit Greg wants to pile on me, but I had their support. I was a little worn out by the time I got home.
“Morning.” Murmuring, I start to remove my thick coat, knit cap, and stupid fingerless gloves.
Why the hell did I buy these?
“Good God, where is your hair?” Mom takes off her gear as she rushes at me. Her shriek pierces the mostly quieted store.
“I cut it off.” Looking anywhere but at the two of them, I start to back away and turn my attention to getting the coffee going for customers and the ovens on.
“I can see that, but why? You loved your hair.” My resolve to let this go is nearly broken at the tenderness in her voice. I knew they would ask questions, so I should have prepared myself better to give the answers.
“It wasn’t who I was anymore, Mom.” My eyes pinch closed. “I needed a new start and thought cutting it was the best place to start.” I also dusted off my gym equipment in the basement and worked my ass off last night too.
“But—”
“Rochel, drop it.” Dad cuts her off. “Patience wanted to cut her hair. She’s a grown woman and can make that decision, so be happy for her.” I love my dad; he has always come to my defense. Probably more than I need him to sometimes, but what else can I expect as their only child.
“You’re okay, right?” His warm hand nearly shocks my freezing system. Looking up at him, I force a smile. He can see past it, though. They both can.
“I’m getting there.”
“That’s all I can ask for.” Nodding, he takes off to the butcher block. “Let’s get today going, my girls. We’ll have a great one.”
“Yes, sir.” I mock salute him.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Mom’s arms wrap around me from behind, hindering me from getting back to my work. “Yesterday went well, yeah?”
“Yes.” It did go well, at least mostly.
“Is that the reason you butchered your beautiful locks?”
“No.” My shorter hair brushes over my ears in a new and different way that I’m still not used to. “I did it to prove to Greg our divorce isn’t going to bother me as much as he wishes it would.”
“That’s my strong girl.” Placing a kiss on the back of my head, where I also took clippers to make it super short back there, she releases me.
I wasn’t strong for a long time, but that has changed now. Greg made it pretty easy yesterday. The only issue that gave me a headache was his attempt to get a hold of my bank account. It was never linked to his, so there was nothing to split.
“It won’t be long now, and I’ll be free.”
“That’s wonderful.” She says one thing, but her eyes don’t express the joy, and soon her smile falls. “With all this good news, why aren’t you happy?”
“I…” There is no answer to that. I think I’m still tired from all the years I’ve wasted with him. I’m angry, hurt, and a little lost at all the time wasted, and most of all, I’m trying to figure out who I am again.
“It’s time to let it all go and move on, Patience.”
Let go?
When was the last time I let myself go and enjoyed life?
Instantly, I’m catapulted back to another winter. The snow was whipping around us from the little fire we had made, and I sat surrounded by my friends. It was after a March storm, and we were on the mountain enjoying what was likely our last snow machining adventure of the season.
I was so happy and free that day. It really was the last time I felt that way. After we came down that night, school, families, and the guys’ pending departures swarmed us. The next time I felt even close to that was the night of our graduation.
A cool shiver grabs me with the memory.
“You better get to baking. We’re opening soon.” Mom breaks through my thoughts. A simple nod is all I can muster as I take off to the café, but she isn’t done yet. “The best thing is you never gave Greg any children, Patience. I know it isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. A child would have made the divorce far more difficult.”
It stings.
My hand wanders on its own down to my stomach, where a life once grew. A baby I gave birth to and held him in my arms for only the briefest of moments before he was taken from me. They say that some things aren’t meant to be, and it took me a long time to believe that. Part of me still mourns. Why let me bring a little innocent life into this world only to take him away from me?
Shaking the saddening thoughts from my head, I get to work. There, I can focus on the good parts of my life, like the business I’ve created. It’s the one thing I’m happy I have, aside from my family.
Getting an assortment of coffees ready, I get the first batch of baked goods out of the oven just as my daily customers start to make their way in. Angelica Reece is one of them. She recently moved back to take a teaching position at the middle school and has been one of my most loyal customers since the first morning.
“Good morning, Angie.” I already have her cup of coffee and her muffin boxed up when she reaches my little corner of the store.
“Morning. Oh, my god. Your hair! It looks amazing!” She opens the box I hand her and takes a deep breath. “God, you’re a lifesaver. I would be lost without you feeding me ev
ery morning.” She winks and follows me over to the register.
“Thank you.” A blush spreads across my face. “I’m glad I can keep at least one person fed.” I beam back at her after accepting her money. We weren’t close in school. She was more of the intellectual type while I was a troublemaker. She’s good friends with Mercy Logan, and now that she is living here again, I can see the three of us getting together and becoming friends.
That’s something I could really use now. I love my family, but it would be nice to have a person or two outside of it, especially now that all my friends are gone.
“We should go out one night. You know, to celebrate your newfound freedom from the wedding ring and all.” She makes me laugh, and I blush. I haven’t even thought about going to do anything. My world used to revolve around making sure I was home in time to feed Greg. Now, I can do whatever I want.
“I would like that.”
“Give me your number, and we’ll work something out.” I quickly jot down my number for her and hand it over to her before I have to serve the next costumer. “Thanks. I’ll get a hold of you soon.”
“Sounds wonderful. Have a great day, Angie.”
“You too.” She waves over her bright red hair and makes her way back out of the store.
I spend the majority of the morning getting orders filled and visiting with some of the locals until I find myself bracing the counter far more than I need to. It never gets easier seeing Mary Michaels, Duke’s mom, walk into the store. Whether it is to get food or come order something special from me, seeing her brings everything back.
Duke’s leaving. How he never tried to reach out to me or come see me. Every single memory of him aches whenever I see one of his parents, but especially when I see Mary. My heartrate jacks up, my palms sweat, and my nerves are shot at the hopes of her telling me something about Duke, but she never does. She visits with me like she always has; she smiles, orders something, does her grocery shopping, and then leaves.
But today, I feel something different. I try not to get my hopes up when she comes to my counter.