Saying the last sentence, she clenched her fists and teeth so tight that getting the words out seemed to require a monumental effort, like squeezing half-set cement from a toothpaste tube.
“His excuse was the bonus they were offering. He said it’d be enough we’d be able to make a down payment on a house. But I didn’t want a house. I wanted a husband!” she cried, leaning urgently toward her brother.
And then, in a voice suddenly soft, she said, “But he didn’t want me. That’s what it felt like. We had a fight, said terrible things to each other. Before we hung up, I told him I wanted a divorce.”
Though Rob Lee had been sitting perfectly still while his sister talked, he couldn’t keep his brow from furrowing when she said this last bit. He remembered introducing Nick and Cady, how he had insisted that Nick come home to Too Much over the Memorial Day weekend, thinking all along that he might be the perfect guy for his sister. He never told either of them what he was up to, though. He just put them in the same room and waited to see what would happen, kind of like the way he used to play with his chemistry set when he was a kid. He’d pour something blue into the test tube and then top it off with some red, shake it up, and wait to see if anything happened.
He didn’t have to wait long when it came to Nick and Cady—the spark between them was instantaneous and obvious. Chemistry, pure chemistry. They were practically glued together that weekend.
When everybody went swimming at Puny Pond, Cady splashed Nick to get his attention, which she already had; then he pretended to dunk her and she pretended to scream, but they were both grinning. They sat next to each other under a tree at the picnic, ignoring everybody else, eating chicken and potato salad and talking seriously. The next day, they went off by themselves for a walk. When they returned, Rob Lee noticed Cady had grass in her hair and that her shirt was buttoned wrong. Grandma Taffy noticed too. As Nick and Cady were walking up toward the porch, both looking happy and a little flushed, Taffy mumbled, “Uh-oh. Looks like the Fatal Flaw has struck again. I sure hope that boy does right by her.”
He had, and willingly.
Seven months later, only eight weeks before the battalion left for another deployment, Nick and Cady were married. Rob Lee was best man. Cady teased him, saying that she’d have asked him to be a bridesmaid if Nick hadn’t nabbed him first. They were so happy that day. And later too.
Rob Lee remembered how excited Nick had been when he found out Cady was pregnant, how upset he was when he learned that they were to be deployed yet again when Cady was in her sixth month and so he wouldn’t be home for the birth. But he remembered, too, the day Linne was born.
He and Nick were sitting in front of a computer when Cady Skyped from the hospital. When she held the tiny little bundle with the pink hat up to the computer screen and said, “Linne, meet your daddy and your uncle Rob Lee,” his own eyes had gotten moist, but Nick had sobbed like a girl.
Rob Lee had never seen Nick cry before, not once.
No matter how much Cady might doubt it, Nick really did love her and Linne. He wanted to be with them. Why wouldn’t he? It was the most natural desire in the world.
But, for a soldier, doing what comes natural isn’t always easy. War complicates a lot of things that ought to be simple.
“Did you mean it?” Rob Lee asked.
“About wanting a divorce?” Cady’s gaze drifted off to a spot on the far wall and rested there.
“At the time, I think it was just something I said to hurt him. I was so angry. I felt betrayed. If I had realized that was the last time we would ever talk, I know that I wouldn’t have said it. But if Nick had lived, would I have followed through with it?” She paused. “I don’t know.”
Her voice was so tired and worn that he knew she had spent many hours wrestling with this question but never finding an answer. Rob Lee knew what that felt like, the obsessive examination of the past and your part in it, sifting through each word and action, trying to pinpoint your mistakes, because inside every grown-up is a little child who wants to believe that saying “I’m sorry” will wind back the clock and make everything the way it was before.
“We never did get to finish that fight,” Cady continued. “He had to go on patrol. I honestly don’t know what might have happened if we had. All I know is that when he got off the phone, he was still angry and really upset. And I’m sure it affected his judgment. It had to have,” she mused. “It had to. If we hadn’t left things the way we did, he would have noticed that something wasn’t right; he’d have seen the bomber or the bomb in time. But he didn’t. He was too busy thinking about all the terrible things I’d said.”
Cady pulled her gaze back from the memories of what might have been into the world that was. She looked at her brother squarely, her eyes dry again.
“You didn’t kill Nick,” she said. “Because I did.”
“Cady, stop it. That’s crazy.”
Cady raised her brows, silently nudging him to the next logical step, to sort out why her conclusions were any less sane than his. Rob Lee wasn’t sure.
But what he did realize was that Cady was a casualty of war, just like Nick, and that if this was true, then maybe he was as well. The difference was that, unlike Nick, he and Cady might yet survive. Maybe.
At that moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted to survive. It was too soon to tell.
Cady walked across the room, sat down next to him on the edge of the bed, and held out her hand.
“Is the safety on?”
He nodded and handed her the gun.
“Thanks. Before you ask, I’m already getting help, and it’s . . . helping,” she said, smiling a little at the inadequacy of that description. “Nothing about this is easy, but I’m going to be okay. You will too. Promise.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to drive you to Houston. Actually, today,” she said, acknowledging the hour, “but after it’s light. I found a nonprofit residential program for veterans with PTSD.”
“Cady, I don’t think I need—”
She lifted the pistol off her lap. “Little brother, no disrespect intended, but your best thinking isn’t that good right now.”
He was quiet. She might be right.
“Just give it a try for thirty days, all right? If it’s not helping, you can come home. If it is helping, you can stay and finish the program in ninety days.”
“Three months? Cady, I can’t be gone for three months. Lambing season is only a month off. We’ve got more than one hundred ewes ready to deliver and lots of multiples this year. Fred and Cody can’t handle it. Fred’s too lazy and Cody’s too apt to listen to Fred.”
Cady drew her brows together into a scowl. “Okay, hang on. Five minutes ago you were going to blow your brains out. Who would have delivered the lambs then?”
She shook her head and he looked down into his lap, embarrassed.
“Look, sheep are just sheep. We’ll figure out a way to take care of them. But you’re my baby brother, the only one I’ve got. I can’t take one more loss in my life, Rob Lee. First, Momma and Graydon and Grandpa. Then Nick. I can’t lose you too. I just can’t. So please, Rob Lee, just try. For me.”
Her expression was so pleading. A fresh wave of shame passed over him, thinking of how close he had come to causing his family even more undeserved pain.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Cady moved the pistol from her lap to the floor and wrapped her arms around him.
“Thank you.”
Rob Lee started to cry, and then to sob. His shoulders shook and his body convulsed. Groans and apologies and cries for help poured out, just the way they did in his dreams, only this time, someone heard him.
Cady didn’t say anything. She didn’t shush him or try to tell him that everything would be all right, but for the first time in forever, he didn’t feel alone.
After a long, long time, Rob Lee was finally able to stop crying, steady his breath, and release his desperate hold on his sister.
“Sorry,” he mumbled and
swiped his hand across his face.
“It’s okay. Come on. Let’s go up to the house. I’ll make breakfast.”
She picked up the gun and started walking toward the door. Rob Lee wasn’t hungry but followed her anyway, knowing she wasn’t going to leave without him.
Spotting the folded piece of notebook paper on top of the dresser, she frowned. “What’s that?” she asked. “Suicide note?”
“Kind of.”
“What’s it say?”
“It says, ‘None of this was your fault.’ ”
“Really?”
Cady grinned, and even though he felt stupid, Rob Lee did the same.
“Good note,” she said. “You should hold on to that.”
CHAPTER 45
After hours of fruitless searching for Rob Lee, Mary Dell had gone to bed reluctantly and slept fitfully. It wasn’t like this was the first time her nephew had disappeared without telling anyone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong with him.
She woke abruptly around four-thirty and sat up in her bed, listening for noises. When a slice of light appeared suddenly beneath her bedroom door, she knew someone was in the kitchen, so she got out of bed, put on her bathrobe, and went to investigate.
Cady was standing at the counter, cracking eggs into a bowl, and Rob Lee was sitting at the table.
Mary Dell said good morning, but the relief she’d felt to see Rob Lee safe dissipated when Cady grabbed a dish towel and threw it over the top of something sitting on the counter, a handgun. Sleepy as she was, Mary Dell didn’t have to work very hard to put the pieces together, but she didn’t say anything about it.
“I was just getting ready to make a pot of coffee,” Cady said. “Want some?”
“Please. Eggs, too, if you don’t mind. I think there’s some of that cinnamon bread left over. Rob Lee, you want some cinnamon toast?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
Cady cracked two more eggs into the bowl and beat them with a fork. “I know Howard has that doctor appointment in Dallas today, but can you find somebody to fill in for me at the shop and pick Linne up from her piano lesson? I’m driving Rob Lee down to Houston. He’ll probably be gone for a while.”
Mary Dell had to clench her arms tight to her body to stop herself from putting her arms around her nephew, the poor, sad, confused boy. But she knew Rob Lee well enough to know he wouldn’t welcome any emotional displays just then.
Instead, she pushed the lever down on the toaster and said, “Not a problem. Fred can cover things for a while.” Walking past Rob Lee’s chair to get the plates and set the table, she paused briefly and squeezed his shoulder. She couldn’t help herself.
It was a surprising and emotional start to the day, but there was even more to come.
Eight hours later, having juggled myriad scheduling, logistical, and personnel details, as well as an unexpected traffic snarl, Mary Dell and Howard made it to Dallas just in time for their one o’clock appointment with Dr. Brewer.
It was supposed to be just a regular appointment, the standard round of testing to measure Howard’s kidney function or lack thereof. So she was surprised when Dr. Brewer, normally a circumspect man, walked into the exam room with a broad grin on his face and said, “You two have the best timing in the world! Absolutely the best!”
Mary Dell’s pulse picked up, correctly interpreting the reason for the good doctor’s elevated spirits.
“You found a donor?”
“We did! I got the test results less than an hour ago. Howard,” he said, turning from Mary Dell toward the exam table, where Howard was sitting, “Your dad’s kidney couldn’t be a better match.”
“I won’t have to go on that machine? That . . .” Howard frowned, trying to summon the word.
“No dialysis for you,” the doctor confirmed. “We won’t perform the transplant yet, not until the kidney function deteriorates to a point where—”
“Wait.” Mary Dell lifted her hand, cutting him off in midsentence. “Donny is the donor? You found him?”
“I think it was more a case of him finding us,” Dr. Brewer replied. “And it’s a good thing he did. Howard has an unusual blood type. Most of the candidates were eliminated before we even got started. But Donny is in excellent health, a near perfect match, and a very willing donor. I told him the news not five minutes ago, and he’s thrilled.”
“Donny is here? In this office?”
Dr. Brewer nodded. “Three doors down and on the left. I just left him to come talk with you.”
Howard’s face split into a grin. “My dad is here!”
He slid off the table, wobbling a little on the landing because he was too impatient to bother with the step, and all but ran from the room.
Mary Dell followed, calling his name, begging him to wait a moment, but Howard either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. By the time Mary Dell caught up with him in the other examining room, Howard was in Donny’s arms.
“Dad! I am really happy to see you!”
“Me too, son.”
CHAPTER 46
Holly sat on top of the checkout counter at the Patchwork Palace, waiting for Cady to finish totaling up the day’s receipts before locking up.
“You’re kidding!” Holly exclaimed. “After all these years he just shows up and offers Howard his kidney?”
“Not quite like that,” Cady said. “Hub-Jay tracked him down. He and my uncle agreed that they wouldn’t say anything to Howard or Aunt Mary Dell unless he turned out to be a match.”
“Wow.” Holly picked up a basket full of odd buttons, marked ten cents each, and started sorting through them. “But she’s happy, right?”
“Sure. But, honestly, I don’t know how I’d feel if I were in her shoes. I mean, are you grateful because he comes to the rescue? Or angry because it took thirty years for him to do it?”
Holly thought about this. “Both, I guess. How does Howard feel about it?”
“That’s the funny part,” Cady said, putting a rubber band around a stack of twenty-dollar bills and placing them inside a red zippered bank bag. “Aunt Mary Dell said he acts like Donny’s just been away on a long trip or something. He’s happy to see him, not the least bit resentful. That’s why they’re staying in Dallas for the rest of the week—because Howard wants to spend time with his dad. For Howard, it’s like nothing ever happened. I don’t think he understands.”
“Maybe,” Holly said. Inside, however, she wondered if perhaps Howard understood things that other people didn’t.
Maybe, having had to struggle with his own natural challenges and limitations, as well as those imposed upon him by a world that has little patience or tolerance and is quick to assign blame and presume motive for actions it knows nothing about, Howard had already mastered a lesson that few ever grasp. Maybe he knew that most people are doing the best they can with what they have and that nobody is really in a position to judge anybody else.
Holly scooped up a handful of buttons and let them pour from her fist into the basket, enjoying the slippery feel of the plastic and metal against her skin and the rat-a-tat sound they made as they fell.
“I talked to Rob Lee last night,” Cady said.
Holly picked up more buttons, keeping her eyes on the waterfall of colors.
“He said to tell you hello and that he’s sorry he didn’t have a chance to say good-bye before he left.”
“That’s okay,” Holly replied, pouring more buttons.
Truth was, he’d left without good-bye or explanation weeks before, and left a hole in her heart that still hurt. She wished he’d told her before what was really going on instead of leaving her to believe that he’d withdrawn because of something she’d done or said.
But he couldn’t help it, she reminded herself. Rob Lee was like Stormy, wounded but unable to speak, and so frightened by the world that he fought to keep it at a distance, terrified to let anyone get too close.
“I just want him to get better,” she said.
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Cady hadn’t painted a full picture of the events that had precipitated Rob Lee’s sudden departure, but she’d said enough so Holly understood that he’d faced a true crisis and that it was very much mixed up with his experiences in Afghanistan. But that was all she knew. Someday, if she saw him again, Rob Lee might tell her himself. And if she never saw him again . . . she still wished him well.
“He is,” Cady said. “It’s only been a few days, but he’s already called to say that he wants to stay for the whole course of the program, the full ninety days. After that, they’ll pair him up with a mentor closer to home so he can have somebody to talk to who understands what he’s been through.”
“That’s great,” Holly said sincerely.
“He asked if it would be all right to call you after he finishes the program. He’s just dealing with a lot of stuff right now,” Cady said, almost apologetically.
Holly put the button basket back on the counter. “Sure, anytime. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll still be in Too Much by the time he comes home, but he’s got my cell number.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot to ask how the audition went. Did you get the spokesmodel thing?”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “And already turned it down. Amanda is really pissed at me. Mom was too, at first. But then she calmed down. I just didn’t want to do it. Of course, I have to do something eventually. But I think . . .”
She hopped off the counter and then brushed her palms together. The buttons had left them feeling dusty.
“Life is too short to spend it doing something you hate, especially if it doesn’t add anything to the world. I know I’m never going to win an Oscar or find a cure for cancer or anything, but I hope I can do something besides sell things nobody needs to people who already have way too much stuff, you know?”
“Makes sense to me,” Cady said.
She put the bank bag in her purse, then picked up a pile of bolts from the counter and carried them to the shelves for restocking. Holly grabbed what Cady couldn’t carry and followed her around the shop.
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