Mae’s lips flattened into a line. Had Angela gone too far?
“The best thing about growing older is learning that lesson right there, hon.” Mae squeezed her arm. “You know what you want. Sort of. All I’d say is that those things that you and I know about that Jason might have experienced and how he can handle all of it, they’re true, but the part I struggle with and you need to examine is this.” She leaned forward. There was no mistaking how important whatever it was she was going to say would be, so Angela mirrored her action. “He’s going to get all this. He’s going to learn to deal with the memories and the wounds, but it takes time.” She pointed her finger. “You understand what I’m saying? Happens for all of us. My husband died, and that rage at having men pushed at me is gone. We all gotta work through these things one day at a time. We can’t jump from here to there and expect anything to work correctly when we’re done.”
She patted Angela’s hand again. “I’ve had to remind myself of this more than once. Those mood changes? They aren’t mine to fix. He’s the only one who can do that, but I do love him. I know he’ll do it. He’ll jump this hurdle. Even now, he’s the best man I know. Tomorrow or next week, he’ll be even better.”
Mae plopped her hat back on her head. “Your problem is focus. We always want what other people have. You’re seeing good changes. If your ex-husband was going through a breakup and losing his job, you’d be content to let him handle those ripples all by himself.”
Angela had thought the same thing herself, yet she still had nothing but questions for Mae. However, Jason pulled up beside them on the sidewalk. Mae moved to climb up into the truck.
Angela held out a hand to stop her. “Hey, thanks for this.” She waved her phone. “I’ll post it and buy myself some time until I can find someone to go parasailing with me.” That someone would not be Jason. He was not even acknowledging her standing there on the sidewalk.
“I enjoyed parasailing,” Mae said as she wrinkled her nose, “but you’re going to have a hard time convincing Jason right now. Remember what I said about time. A year from now? He’ll be dragging you by the hand to do whatever off-the-wall, in-the-deep-end-of-the-ocean thing you want to do. I believe that with my whole heart. It’s a matter of time. And if anyone could convince him to try it next week or next month, it might be you.” She tapped her temple. “Time.”
“Thanks for the advice about my own change. I’d decided the best way to handle this envy or jealousy or whatever it is that I’m experiencing—but don’t want to label because I’m pretty sure it’s selfishness—is to have great adventures. I was sort of hoping he could help me with those but...” She shrugged a shoulder. “I want Greer to understand how full life can be without the man the world says we need.”
“All the while relying on a man to get you there.” Mae frowned. “I follow what you’re saying, but I fell through the hole in your logic.”
Angela laughed reluctantly as she realized that Mae was right. How silly.
“Or...” Mae wrapped her arm through Angela’s. “Now I’m spitballing, so if I end up in a big ol’ logic loophole like you did, forgive me, but you have two ways of looking at this. You want to go parasailing? Call me. I’m in and I already put all my information in your contacts. You could even tell your daughter and ex and friends that you were doing me a service or something.”
And no Jason, not unless she counted the surly guy sitting it out on the bench.
“What’s your other option?” Angela asked. She was not going to explain that the winning choice would include more Jason. The Jason who offered her sweet pastries and talked easily about nothing. That was what she wanted.
“You could treat every day as an adventure. Take a picture of a great lunch view. Check. Try a new dessert. Check. And do them with the sidekick that makes everything exciting because you are not going to fool me. When I interrupted your taste test, you were on an adventure and about half a second from having the time of your life.” Mae shook Angela’s arm. “My mistake. I pushed him too hard. Learn from that and don’t get in your own way.”
Angela frowned as she considered that. “I am out today all on my own. I didn’t need any help for that.”
Mae winked. “But the adventure didn’t start until he was there, am I right?”
Angela blinked and did her best to ignore the weight on her chest.
Mae was right. Angela wouldn’t tell her that because even in her own head that set off bells. Warning bells? Maybe. Or the kind that go off when someone hits the bull’s-eye at the fair. Mae might wish they were wedding bells.
“I like you, Angela.” Mae nodded firmly. “No way I’ll stop pushing him. Somebody has to, and I’m his mama so he’ll love me no matter what. For you? You meet him where he is.
“Don’t you hate old women who hand out free advice you never asked for?” She winked and opened the truck door.
As Angela watched them drive off, she understood what Mae meant.
Dancing had been fun.
Angela had enjoyed flirting with Jason more.
And if they’d managed the kiss hovering between them, this would have been a day she’d never forget.
Whatever was between them, Angela believed today’s confusion would remain until Jason could tell her why he didn’t want to dance or do any of the things she’d called adventure. But they had to finish this class first. Nothing else mattered until it was over.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE WAS A man afraid of what other people might think about him.
And his mother was giving him the silent treatment. It didn’t happen often. He should be enjoying it more.
Since he might as well have been a five-year-old sulking after a tantrum, he understood the impulse.
The white-hot anger had receded. Disgust with himself and his own mood swings had replaced it.
As he turned down the street to his mother’s apartment, Mae drawled, “Do your skills with the ladies seem rusty to you? Because I’d hate to imagine this is how you’ve operated around the world, son. That might explain why I do not currently have grandchildren to show off. The one thing they don’t tell you when you decide to take the leap into an ‘active retirement community’ is that grandchildren are our number one bragging rights. If you don’t have them, you sit quietly until the opening conversation, the one that begins every single meeting and outing, is over.” She held up one hand. “I know. That makes no sense. It happens even at my upscale assisted-living facility, where I’m busy with all sorts of activities, doing things I’ve wanted to try for a long time. Parasailing? That was a big deal to me, and it was completely eclipsed by the birth of twins. We’re fully functioning adults with our own lives here, but grandchildren are important. I would like to have some.”
She never came at him from the direction he expected.
“I overreacted. All I could focus on was sitting somewhere, taking stock and cooling off. I’ve done that.” Jason tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “And my skills might be rusty, but that can be fixed.”
His mother snorted. “Can it? How soon? That girl was confused. Hurt, even.” His mother shook her head. “Have you done anything about finding a therapy group?”
When he’d been on active duty and daydreaming about retirement, Jason had listened to all kinds of horror stories about guys who couldn’t make it back home. They lost their way and ended up in jail or addicted to something that helped them make it through the hours.
Jason had pitied them, certain he’d never be that weak.
When he was swamped by emotions he had no control over, he knew the edge was closer than he expected.
His mother was holding the line for him. All his life, he’d held himself to a higher standard, believed he had to be stronger, but now he realized failing was a possibility. That edge he’d been certain he’d never see, much less fall into the darkness on the other side...it came closer somet
imes. At midnight, when he couldn’t sleep and there was no hope of distraction until sunrise. The anger he hated prowled nearby. The edge was right there. When he’d left Angela standing on the sidewalk, the shame had been huge. Without his mother, he’d sit with that shame.
He’d never warned his mother about the anger, but she knew him well enough to understand that she had to stand strong and push him away from the edge.
What a burden to put on one tiny woman.
It was no wonder she had to push twenty-five hours a day, eight days a week. If she lost any ground against the edge, she might never get it back. School. Doctors. Therapy. Even this thing with Angela. Mae was scrambling for handholds.
“Not yet. Not exactly. Therapy...” Jason trailed off as he stopped in front of his mother’s unit. “It’s for big problems. I can handle this.” He wanted to. He would. He should be able to.
He hoped he could manage to get a grip before Angela Simmons got tired of waiting.
“Therapy is exactly for this, Jason.” His mother grabbed his arm and waited for him to face her. “It’s for exactly this. You were wounded. You could have died. Your life is... Well, everything was wiped clean and you’re starting at the beginning. None of that is easy. And I am warning you, that girl is worth doing whatever it takes to avoid another meltdown.”
He wanted to argue. Her worry was clear. Every line on her face was proof of the nights she’d done some staring up at her own ceiling. She’d mentioned how she’d feared for his safety while he’d been deployed. Mentioned? She’d harangued him about it to get him enrolled at Sawgrass.
But the fact was she’d been holding the line for him since he’d woken up in the hospital stateside.
“I’m talking with this group of vets, Mom. Believe me when I say I understand I can’t swallow all this.” Her shoulders relaxed. Telling a half-truth made her relax. “When it comes to this leg and the whole ‘wound’ thing, I don’t want to talk about that.”
“You don’t want to talk to me. You don’t want to tell your friends about it. Find someone you don’t care about, pay them some money to listen to you complain or admit whatever it is you’re afraid of. You’re like everybody else, JJ, no better, no matter what your mama always said.” She shook her finger at him. “If you’d been here, you’d know that one of your favorite people needed some help with grief once upon a time.” She blinked at him while she waited for him to catch up. His mother had seen a therapist?
She pinched the bridge of her nose as she always did when she needed extra patience. Jason could remember her doing that outside his first Sunday school class when he’d argued that Santa Claus brought the greatest gifts instead of Jesus. Mrs. Peabody had not appreciated his opinion that day.
“When your daddy died, I was lost.” She blinked rapidly. Whatever Jason said would be wasted breath. “My only other family in this entire world was in Afghanistan.” She swallowed hard. “I’d lost your father and I could lose you at any minute. All I had was the house and the town that was smothering me.” His mother inhaled slowly to exhale carefully. “For months, I paid a perfectly pleasant stranger to listen to me talk, and she didn’t interrupt me to say what a hero you were or how time heals all wounds or how not a single day is guaranteed here. Friends, strangers, they all wanted to say something comforting and not a one had the good sense to stick with ‘I’m sorry.’”
She wagged her head rapidly. “It’s like they never lost someone they loved. They wanted the magic words that would get them out of the tough spot of talking to me in my grief. That therapist? She got furious along with me and that let me know it was okay to hate sympathy cards from my insurance agent and the bank. Everything I thought and could not say out loud to another soul? She told me I was fine. Those things were logical. Normal. Expected. All part of the process. I could get mad at your father for not taking better care of himself and at you for leaving and at my mailman who kept bringing the bills from the hospital even though we’ve been friends since first grade. None of it had to make sense. And that’s what it took for me to get through, the understanding that I didn’t have to pretend my life was the same but just figure out what it was going to be on the other side.”
Jason pulled his mother closer, wrapping his arms around her until her head was on his shoulder. She was crying. He hated that. That much pain deserved to be washed away with tears. He’d come home for his father’s funeral, but he’d had orders, so he’d prioritized what had to be done on his trip. Holding his mother like this had not made the list.
“I’m sorry, Mama.” He squeezed her tighter. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to do all that by yourself. I should have been there. I’m sorry.”
Angela’s daughter was worried about her mother having her own life. He’d been too wrapped up in his own world to grieve with his. His mother had deserved better.
Her sigh was both tired and relieved. “I’m getting through your thick skull, but it’s a real slow process, honey.”
Jason waited for her chuckle as she rested against him.
“I didn’t tell you that to get an apology. I wanted you to understand there’s all kinds of reasons to talk to someone, big and small, and really, the size is the least important piece. Honestly, I learned the big problems and the small annoyances are all tied together.” She tilted her head to the side. “And I decided then I wasn’t going to wait to do what I wanted with my life, not anymore. Safety is nice, but it’s not as good as real happiness. If you have to make a fool of yourself to be happy, wouldn’t you want to give it a shot?”
Jason did rub the ache in his head then.
It was all so much to think about, to do, to try for the first time.
“When do you have to sign up for fall classes?” his mother asked, the small grin on her face proof that she knew she was giving the conversation a swerve.
“End of July. I have time.” Which was a good thing. He still didn’t know what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. At this point, he wouldn’t even cross off dancing. Something about his mother’s advice had lit the spark of hope again. She was good at that.
“I’m not sure you have an accountant’s personality. An accountant would have done something other than storm off, leaving a pretty girl wondering what had gone wrong.” She tapped her lips. “Better ask about jobs in therapy, too.”
She was unlocking the door to her unit before he could come up with a response.
Since any reply would have been unimpressive, Jason reversed out of the parking spot and drove to Concord Court. Mira was churning up waves in the pool, but he wanted time before he had to make more conversation, so he parked outside of his townhome, let himself in and almost flopped down on the couch.
The first order of business was changing clothes. Jeans in Miami in June were a bad idea, but he didn’t have a better one. At home, he always changed into shorts and removed the prosthesis to let his skin dry out.
Once that was done, he made himself another sandwich, grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled down on the couch. This was all he needed: time to regroup.
But he was no good at sitting still for long. When writing a travel piece for class turned into web searches about finding a therapist and job counseling and personality tests to determine careers and watching videos of people with prostheses dancing and running and whatever he could dream of, Jason tossed the computer aside on the couch and rested his head on a cushion to stare up at the ceiling.
All the evidence pointed to one overwhelming answer.
There was only one thing keeping him from doing all the things he could dream up: his own mind.
Before he could overthink it, before he could put on his full armor, Jason put on his prosthesis, grabbed his keys and headed for the Concord Court office.
Reyna was behind the desk when he walked in. She glanced up when he opened the door and was watching him when he dropped into the seat
opposite her desk.
No expression.
It was clear she’d been a ranking military officer. Alert waiting. That was her constant setting.
“Did we have an appointment?” she asked before propping her elbow on the desk.
“No. I’d offer to make one and come back but this is something I need to talk about now.” He cleared his throat. “You mentioned a therapist working with vets. Could I get a referral?”
She pulled open a drawer. “It’s all in your paperwork, Ward. No need for any approval.” She slid a business card across the table and he picked up a whiff of exasperation. “I might give that up. None of you spend a second reading it. You all do things on your own time.”
Jason tapped the card on her desk. “Thanks for this.”
She dipped her chin. “Everything’s okay. Nothing I need to worry about, right.” There was no question in her tone. She was telling him it should be true.
“Fine.” Jason almost stood and then caught himself. That urge to pretend everything was under control would not die. “Well, if you can call having no career in mind, no school plan and a complete inability to cope with failure fine, I guess. Then everything is perfect.”
Reyna didn’t answer at first. He wasn’t sure she would answer.
Eventually, she said, “Has it even been a month, Ward? Most people take longer than that to plan a weeklong vacation, much less what they’ll do with the rest of their lives. Relax a minute.”
Was his mouth hanging open? If it wasn’t, it was only because shock had frozen it shut.
“Two years. That’s not about getting your body healed.” She braced her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on her hands. “That’s all mental adjustment. Therapy will help.”
Her no-nonsense delivery settled him.
“Thanks for the pep talk.” Jason stood and headed for the door.
“You’re joking. I get that.” Reyna pointed at a doorway in the corner of the open room. “Stick your head in there.”
A Soldier Saved--A Clean Romance Page 14