A Soldier Saved--A Clean Romance

by Cheryl Harper

  If she could figure out how to do it, she’d tell it in story form, maybe from the point of view of the star mermaid or the old guy working the controls. The images were so clear.

  When the boat bumped up against the dock and the lights came on, Angela met the old guy’s stare.

  “Knowing how it works didn’t take all the shine off, did it? Go on, tell the truth.” He tugged harder on his ball cap. “You can say something over and over. Don’t mean you really believe it.”

  Angela tilted her head to the side. “You mean lie? Say the same lie over and over?” What else could it be if a person said something they didn’t really believe?

  “Didn’t say you don’t want to believe it.” He tapped the panel. “You can say none of this is real. You see the panel. You don’t want ghosts to be real.” He grinned. “But nobody who believes that jumps the way you do at a flash of light and a good story.”

  As the captain helped her up on the dock, Angela realized there might be a poem there, too. About how some people can say all the right things but believe something they don’t want to inside.

  Eager to get to a pen and paper, Angela hurried back to her car. As she buckled her seat belt, her phone rang. She reached into her purse, so relieved whoever it was had waited until she was off the boat. The captain and his ghost helper might have tossed her overboard to join the spirits if she’d interrupted the show.

  When she saw her daughter’s name, she said, “Hey, baby, everything okay?”

  “Are you out on a date?” her daughter shouted, her words garbled as if she was too excited to speak slowly. “There’s only one way to get you on a haunted tour on a boat at night. You have company. A warm-blooded person to ward off the spirits. Remember that Halloween when you nearly brained the football team’s quarterback because he showed up at the door dressed like Death? You hate that stuff.”

  Angela started the car. “I’m on a date with myself.”

  The stunned silence knocked her off balance. That was the story she’d decided on. She’d tell Greer she was enjoying her time and getting to know what she loved.

  Greer wasn’t buying it.

  “You aren’t on a date,” her daughter said slowly. “You are out at night alone after dark on a boat, and no one knows where you are. Tell me how that’s a thing we’re doing now, Mom?”

  Angela pulled out of the parking lot and considered that. Everything Greer said was fair. “I got a free ticket. It’s not something I planned.”

  And now she might as well be sixteen and explaining why she’d missed curfew.

  “I didn’t enjoy it as much as I would have if you’d been with me.” That was a line that might work if Greer used it on her, but Greer’s snort communicated her opinion.

  “You’re just out to show you don’t need anyone for anything, is that it?” Greer asked.

  Angela was glad the roads were almost deserted. This was a conversation that would take concentration.

  “No. It started out as one thing and changed in the middle. That’s all. I went to the mermaid show because I wanted to. This was spontaneous. I was having fun, like you want me to, and I wanted to keep it going. I did that. I am safe. I am going home now.” Angela hoped she was selling her side of the story.

  “I told Dad you were on a date, so he should move you from the kids’ table.” Greer sighed. “I shouted it. Like a victory shout. I am so sorry. You’re going to have to go through the whole ‘don’t need a plus-one’ with him again.”

  Angela braked as she pulled into her garage and put the door down. She turned off the ignition and rested her head against the headrest. “Well, kid, you weren’t entirely wrong. All I wanted on the ghost boat was some company, G. Going alone is not my thing. At all.” But the problem was that she couldn’t imagine herself on that dumb tour with anyone other than Jason. He would have made her laugh.

  If she’d been with him, she’d have been too focused on him to worry about anything else.

  Then she realized the old-timer had been right. All along, she’d been saying the right thing. Everything she’d said to Greer was right. She didn’t need any man to be okay.

  But she’d met the one man who made everything, even experiences she hated, better.

  She’d also missed her window to do anything about it.

  Jason was going to be better off after time with Mira.

  “Are you home?” Greer asked quietly.

  “I am.” Angela opened her eyes. “And I realized, thanks to you and the old guy running the special effects, that I’ve been confused for too long.”

  Greer didn’t answer.

  “For a long time, I did things for you and for your father. When I took this job, I didn’t have that. I’ve built a good career and told myself I was doing exactly what I wanted. And I was. I am happy, Greer.”

  Angela squeezed her eyes shut.

  “But I met somebody along the way that changed some of that.” Greer’s gasp convinced her to speed up. “He’s dating someone else, G. And it’s fine. That’s how this is supposed to work. You don’t rearrange your life so that you can have anyone, so that you can be a couple and avoid the kids’ table at weddings. Someone comes along who adds to what you want, instead of taking away.”

  Greer was quiet, never a good sign. Then she groaned, “He’s dating someone else. Are you serious?”

  Angela laughed. “Did you hear anything else I said because this is the good stuff. The good motherly advice.”

  “I already knew that, Mom. You’ve been making me the hero of my own story forever. A date to the wedding? Him as the sidekick. That’s all. Why do you have to make this so difficult?” Greer muttered, “It’s because you haven’t dated since you were expected to cut up a guy’s steak for him or whatever.”

  “Again with the old,” Angela said lightly, even if she didn’t mean it.

  “Okay.” Greer cleared her throat. “There’s no sense in worrying about the wedding anymore, except that I expect you to tell me about this guy when we’re together again.”

  “And you’ll drop this? The ‘Mom needs a date’ subject?” Angela asked. “We can go back to discussing who Greer should be dating.”

  Greer laughed. “Fine. And I’ll tell Dad I was wrong. Fingers crossed you don’t hear about it again.”

  Fingers crossed was nice, but Angela wouldn’t count on it. Rodney would probably bring it up with the wedding toasts, how she almost messed up their seating arrangements and budget but her loveless state prevailed.

  But she didn’t say any of that out loud to Greer.

  Maturity was a virtue.

  “I’m going inside. I am home, safe and sound, but I will be sleeping with all the lights on. I hate ghost stories.” Angela shivered as a cold breeze swept across her skin.

  “What made you go?” Greer asked.

  “All I could picture was how the posts would impress my friends.” Angela shook her head. “I’m definitely going to need to get a handle on that impulse.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  Angela was smiling as she walked into her kitchen. Her notebook was on the kitchen counter, ugly-cute spiders doodled in the margins of her latest work. She flipped the page and wrote down “A Modern Mermaid’s Résumé” and hoped that would be enough to jog her memory.

  Then she started a list of the things people said they believed, which might be different closer to the bone.

  She’d been saying she didn’t need a man in her life. That was true.

  Closer to the bone, where the truth lived, Angela thought there might be something else.

  She might not need any man, but imagining life without Jason even on the edges could bring on another shiver. Whatever that feeling was, only poetry could capture it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  JASON GOT DRESSED on Monday and wondered what sort of day it would turn out
to be. While he stood in front of the closet, pressing the button-down shirt he’d picked for the day, his phone rang.

  “Mornin’, Mama. How are you? Did you have a good brunch yesterday?” She’d been out with the same guy two days in a row. If they moved on to day three, he was going to have to determine whether he approved or not.

  “You want to know a man? Take him out for mimosas. I swear, I never saw anything like it. The man loosened his bow tie at the table.” His mother’s scandalized delivery relieved some of Jason’s concern.

  “Not his bow tie. Anything but that.” Jason couldn’t guess at the proper brunch behavior, but he’d never wear a bow tie anywhere. No worries about loosening it in the wrong spot. His mother’s hard line against neckwear at the brunch table made him wonder if he was the one out of step with dating. “Is that against brunch etiquette? What if he needed the ground rules explained? Not every man brunches.”

  “Well,” his mother said, “we agreed we could see other people. He’s not the worst I’ve met here, but surely he ain’t the best, either. Handsome, sure. Good dresser, even if he’s loose with the standards sometimes, but so dull. Just boring. Can’t feature spending more than a meal with him, but nice enough.”

  He hadn’t decided how to handle his mother dating.

  Listening to her rundown of the attributes of every guy, especially the fails, was going to be difficult. Time to change the subject.

  “Okay, what plans are you calling to convince me to join in today?” Jason smoothed a bit of lint off one sleeve and then turned off the iron.

  “You wouldn’t come with me anyway, but your favorite teacher and I are going parasailing. Together. Eat your heart out.” His mother’s crow would have made him smile, but he realized something important.

  “Do you have Angela’s phone number?” Ever since she’d left his townhouse, he’d been telling himself he could camp out in front of her office and then telling himself he’d do no such thing. Even if he wasn’t dating Mira, that didn’t mean he and Angela were a good fit.

  That didn’t change the fact that he owed her an apology.

  “I do. When you stomped off at Domino Park, we exchanged numbers. I was hoping for a lunch date where I could sell her on all your strengths. She called me Saturday, and I couldn’t go with her to this theater thing, but we made plans for today. I’m excited. If you wanted to ‘run into her,’ you know where she’ll be about ten o’clock.”

  This time, her tone was sly.

  “We aren’t exactly on friendly terms right now.” Jason eased down on his bed.

  “Your fault?” his mother asked. “Because I warned you your skills need work.”

  Jason cleared his throat, certain he should not provide her any more details. “Would you give me her number if I asked?”

  She sniffed. “I will not. Us ladies have to stick together. There’s a whole lot of dangerous men in this world.” Before he could take offense to that, she added, “But I will text your number to her. If you ask me nicely. You should have already moved on this, son.”

  Was he going to ask for his mother’s help with getting a date?

  “I’ll think about it.” Jason sighed. “First, I’ve got to go meet with Reyna, tell her why I’m not qualified for the job she wants me to take and how she’d be much better off hiring someone who feels less sorry for himself, and then I’m going to take the job. If she insists, I’m going to work here at Concord Court, helping vets looking for jobs, and I’m going to take an introductory social work class next semester.” He hadn’t discussed this with his mother, but he’d weighed everything he knew about himself and Sawgrass and veterans, and even late at night, he couldn’t shake the idea that he was on the right path here. He’d go a few steps down it and regroup if he had to. Cautious optimism. That was where he’d settled in.

  “Not accounting. Thank heavens,” his mother drawled. “I was sure it was wrong, so I told you to do it, knowing you’d march off in the other direction, but you haven’t been yourself. I was afraid the current would sweep you along and you’d end up somewhere you hated, with one of them complicated adding machines and a sharp pencil.”

  She was quiet for a minute. “You can help veterans. With the right education, you could help a lot of people, son. You’re onto something now.”

  The bubble of giddy relief at hearing her verdict surprised him and gratified him. It was impossible not to understand what a blessing she’d been his whole life, how lucky he’d been to have his parents and the career he’d had and even to have decades stretching in front of him to fill with whatever he pleased. It was a lot. Sunshine and bouncing notes and Motown and Smokey all flowing through him.

  “I better get to it.” Jason forced himself to slow down. The burst of adrenaline that hit when he knew he was doing the right thing had made his hand shake.

  “Yes, you better.” His mother’s smile beamed through the phone.

  Jason hung up, but before he could slip the phone into his pocket, it dinged to alert him to a text.

  While you’re on a roll, think on this, too.

  His mother’s text was followed by a photo of him and Angela dancing in Domino Park. Before the disaster. His mother had caught the second he’d pulled Angela closer so he could talk to her. Her head was bent toward his, long brown hair draped over her shoulders and back, but it was easiest to see his face. He’d been caught up by her. Focused. It was no wonder he’d stumbled. He hadn’t been able to look away from her.

  Without thinking too much, which was what got him into trouble in the first place, Jason moved to the social media site Angela had shown him, the one he’d checked now and then to see whatever she posted. He made his own account and posted the photo, adding a poem underneath. The poem being the one surefire way to catch her attention. He texted his mother a link to the post. Make sure she sees this.

  Then he shoved his phone in his pocket. He had a meeting, an actual meeting with a time and a place, so he took two extra minutes getting ready and decided to cut through the pool area to Concord Court’s office.

  Reyna Montero wanted to meet with him. The time had come to give her a final answer. His other plan had been to see if Angela was in her office. Now he had a real deadline. He had to be at Domino Park by one o’clock. This shouldn’t take long.

  He’d say, “Don’t hire me.”

  Reyna would say, “I’m going to hire you.”

  And that would be settled.

  Then he opened the door and found a group waiting for him. Reyna was there. She discreetly checked her watch when he walked in, so he was glad he’d planned to be five minutes early. Her face would not show approval, but if he’d been late, she would have made sure he understood. Career military. They understood each other already.

  The only other person in the room he recognized was his therapist. Michelle was seated across from Reyna’s desk and she gave him a head nod in hello.

  “Let’s get started.” Reyna pointed him to the only available seat and plopped down behind the desk. “This is Eric Westinghouse, the head of the social work department at Sawgrass. I get the impression you were already supposed to have introduced yourself, but Westinghouse has no idea who you are.” She paused and stared from Jason to Westinghouse, and Jason got the message. He offered his hand to shake. When that was taken care of, Reyna continued, “And this is my sister, Brisa. She’s going to be helping out here at Concord Court, so I’ve invited her to sit in.”

  “Assistant manager, not that Reyna wants to give me the title.” The younger woman seated catty-corner to Reyna stretched over to shake his hand. The faint scent of something sweet, suntan lotion or expensive shampoo, accompanied her movement. No doubt about it, Brisa Montero knocked grown men out with one smile on a regular basis. Eric Westinghouse sighed when she returned to her seat.

  Brisa was beautiful, but he couldn’t imagine her signing up for a haunt
ed boat tour or lecturing about the joy of the perfect first line of poetry. Angela was mesmerizing. The passion she had for teaching and learning new things, those were real, part of who she was and always would be.

  He was hooked.

  Unable to look away.

  “I called everyone here today because we need an organized plan for career counseling. Michelle and I have been discussing this, and we agreed we’ve got the right candidate here.” Reyna turned to Jason. “That’s you. What do you say? You promised me you’d help if you could.” Then she tilted her head down to await his response.

  The urge to fidget under her stare was strong. So strong. But he couldn’t help asking for more information. “I don’t have any counseling experience or a degree.” He motioned at Eric Westinghouse. “I don’t even know what is involved because I haven’t done my homework yet.”

  He didn’t glance at Michelle. There had to be some kind of confidentiality clause that would keep her from exposing him. Didn’t there? Or did everyone already know he and Michelle had discussed how this could work?

  “If there are people who come through needing in-depth help, we’ll set them up with counseling sessions.” Michelle waved a hand. “What we need is someone with critical-thinking skills, good listening and writing skills, and the ability to operate a computer to assist people with searches. Reyna wants to open this up to all vets, not just Concord Court. Everything’s online these days. Most everyone that comes through will know the basics, but we can give them a head start.”

  Eric Westinghouse leaned forward. “We can start with aptitude tests to help people who are struggling to find their way. I have a lot of information on government-sponsored and not-for-profit programs that can help with a variety of challenges. Classes for hard skills in new software. Funding for nontraditional programs. Grants to support small business. Anyone can make those referrals if they have the information they need at hand. What we require is a contact, someone who can be trusted by the men and women who land at Concord Court. I expect someone who has walked in their shoes could be a welcome sight.”