by Mila Gray
I turn away from the ghost in the door and press the green button. ‘Hey Todd,’ I say, forcing a smile.
54
Kit
Turning away from Riley’s grave, I freeze mid-step. Jessa’s dad is standing just a few metres away, watching me. He’s holding a bunch of flowers in his hand. Out of uniform he doesn’t cut quite such an intimidating figure and I notice that he looks much, much older than when I saw him last. His hair’s now completely grey. He’s softer too. His shoulders are still broad and he’s still a well-built man, but he seems somehow turned inwards, his posture no longer ramrod straight but slightly slumped. His eyes, etched with grief lines, no longer have that fierce sniper intensity to them.
‘Oh . . . I’m sorry,’ I stammer. ‘I was just . . . I’m just leaving.’ Fuck. How long has he been standing there? Did he hear everything I just said? Oh man. I walk past him, fast, not daring to meet his eye.
‘No. It’s OK,’ he says as I pass him. ‘You don’t have to leave.’
I stop and turn to stare at him, unsure if he’s joking or not, but he just nods at me wearily before taking a step towards the grave. He drops to his haunches stiffly, as though he’s bone tired, and starts straightening out the old flowers and arranging the new ones. It’s him that’s bringing the flowers. The realization surprises me. Does he come here a lot, then? By the looks of all the flowers, I’m guessing he does.
‘Do you come here often?’ I ask. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I cringe. Way to go, Kit. Make it sound like you’re trying to pick him up, why don’t you?
He nods at me. ‘Almost every day.’
Wow. OK. I take that in. My dad used to visit my mom’s grave every day too. I stopped after six weeks because I couldn’t face it any more, couldn’t handle staring at a mound of grass imagining her body decaying beneath me.
‘Hasn’t got any easier, has it?’ I say.
He looks up at me. ‘Not yet it hasn’t.’
‘It does eventually,’ I say quietly. ‘One day you wake up and discover that it hurts just a little bit less. And then maybe after a year or two it does start to fade.’ I stop abruptly. I don’t know why I’m telling him this.
Kingsley nods at me and I see his brow creasing into a familiar frown. He stands up slowly as though he has the weight of a planet resting on his shoulders.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, looking me directly in the eye.
‘Excuse me?’ I say, thinking I must have misheard.
He clears his throat. ‘I owe you an apology,’ he says. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these last few months, speaking to a lot of people – counsellors, shrinks, whatever you want to call them – doing a lot of soul-searching. I come here and talk to Riley a lot too. I find it helps the most, actually, talking to him.’
Crap. I shuffle nervously. Does he know that that’s what I was doing too? In a mild state of panic I think desperately back, trying to remember everything I said. Did he hear me call him an asshole?
‘I wasn’t fair to you,’ he says now. ‘On the day of the funeral. You were there to pay your respects. I shouldn’t have turned you away like that.’
I’m too stunned to say anything. Colonel Kingsley is apologizing? To me?
‘I was angry,’ he says with a faint shrug of his shoulders. ‘I needed someone to blame.’
‘Yeah,’ I say quietly. ‘I know that feeling.’
His eyes narrow and I see a trace of the old sniper in him. ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he says. ‘The only people to blame were the people who strapped explosives to themselves and blew themselves up. They killed my son, not you.’
I’ve heard this a thousand times from a dozen different people, most of them paid to say it, but hearing Riley’s father say the words is like the prison door swinging open.
‘I swapped post with him, though,’ I say, the words rushing out of me so fast it sounds like a sob.
‘We’ve all done that. We’ve all broken the rules. I was wrong to punish you. You’d been through enough.’
I stare at him, not quite believing. He’s a colonel. He cited me for disobedience. I was demoted because I broke those rules, moved to a desk job in Guam. And now he’s admitting it was no big thing?
‘So,’ he says, ‘you seen the baby yet?’
I nod, speechless, my head whirring too hard and too fast to keep up with the change in the conversation’s direction or to formulate words.
‘Looks like Riley, don’t you think?’ he says with a grin that lights up his face.
‘He does,’ I say, unable to stop smiling as well.
‘And Jessa?’ he asks, giving me a sideways glance before focusing his attention somewhere on the middle distance.
‘Um,’ I stammer, my heart starting to race. Is it a trick question?
‘Have you seen her?’ he asks. ‘I’m assuming so.’
I can’t lie. ‘Er. Yes, sir,’ I say.
A grin tugs at his mouth. ‘She tell you to get lost?’
I laugh under my breath. ‘She might have done.’
He grins wider. ‘That’s my girl.’
Yeah, I should have guessed he still wouldn’t be happy about me going anywhere near his daughter.
‘Damn it, though,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘Not sure what she sees in that kid Todd. Starting to wonder about her taste in men.’
My head flies up. He doesn’t like Todd? The knowledge enters my bloodstream like a drug, making me far happier than it probably should. I try to hide my smile because really, what does it matter that he doesn’t like Todd? He doesn’t like me either.
‘Listen, I’ve got a story for you, Ryan.’
I look at him sideways. What the fuck is going on? This man has hated me for years, and now here we are at the graveside of his son, shooting the breeze, telling stories like we’re old buddies? Has he lost the plot or something? Has he taken one too many Zoloft?
‘I’ve never shared this with anyone, except of course with Riley on one of our many one-sided conversations.’ He tips his head at the grave. ‘They’re pretty cathartic, aren’t they?’ he says, giving me a pointed look.
Oh shit. He heard. I wince and look away, automatically scanning the cemetery for the nearest exit point. Where’s this conversation heading? Is this whole friendly routine just a way of drawing me in like a fish on a line before he clobbers me on the head with a rock?
‘I was once in love,’ he begins, grabbing my attention back instantly. ‘I was about your age. This girl – ’ He pauses and takes a deep breath in before letting it out in a long exhalation. ‘She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She took my breath away. All I wanted to do was make her happy.’ He glances at me. ‘I would have walked over hot coals for her.’
I double take. Those were exactly the words I used to him about Jessa. Does he remember? Is that why he’s throwing them back at me?
‘She was the love of my life, and I lost her. It was during the Balkan conflict. There were things I saw in that war that will stay with me forever.’ He glances across at me. ‘I think you know what I’m talking about. Things you can’t put a name to, things you can’t talk about to other people, least of all your family.’
I give him a small nod. I do know what he’s talking about, but it’s still weird for me to discover we have anything in common at all, let alone that we share something like this.
‘For a while I couldn’t stand to be around people,’ he goes on. ‘I stopped writing to her. I couldn’t put words down on paper, couldn’t make sense of what was in my head.’
I fall silent, holding my breath. He could be describing me. The strangeness of his confession, how exactly his story mirrors my own, is spinning me out.
‘I said a few things I’ll always regret and pushed her away until the point came where she broke up with me. She sent me a letter, told me it was over. Damn near broke my heart. For a year she was all I could think about. I didn’t look at another woman, couldn’t think about another woman. But
I didn’t call her either, didn’t write. My pride was too wounded. And I was too messed up.’ He pauses to look at me. ‘Sound familiar?’
I don’t nod but I don’t shake my head either.
‘But when I get back home I have it all planned out. I’m going to make things right with her. I’m determined to find a way to get her back. I’ll do whatever it takes. And so I go over to her house and what do I find? She’s dating someone else. And not just anyone. My best friend.’
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. It all makes sense now. The photograph of him and my dad on the wall in the garage. The comment my dad made about my mom and Jessa’s dad. The pieces fall into place with the kind of staggering alignment I can only imagine blind people experience when they get their eyesight back.
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Kingsley smirks. ‘Your father was one charming son of a bitch. I’ll give him that. He moved in there the moment he saw she was free. He’d always had his eye on her, and your mother, like I said, was beautiful, like a movie star, turned heads wherever she went.’
He smiles to himself sadly and my gut writhes as though a nest of snakes just woke up. Holy shit. This is too much information too fast. My mom dated Jessa’s dad? And they loved each other? But . . . he’s such an asshole. What the hell did she see in him? Then I remember Jessa telling me her dad didn’t always used to be this way. I recall the picture of my dad and him when they were about my age, how much fun they looked like they were having. Maybe he wasn’t always such an asshole then. It’s like discovering there is an end to the universe; truly mind-melting.
‘I was so goddamn mad at him,’ he continues, not seeming to notice my shock, ‘I didn’t even bother to fight for her. And you know, if I’d buried my stupid pride and told her how much I loved her, she would have broken up with him and come back to me. Because what we had – ’ he looks at me, his eyes so bright and clear they remind me of Jessa’s – ’was something you don’t find every day. It was real. But I didn’t fight for her. I walked away. And I raged about it for a few weeks and drank myself stupid until my father took me aside one day and told me to man the hell up and to go after what I wanted. He told me I was letting another man take what should be mine, and that the best things in life are things you have to fight for. That’s what makes life worthwhile, he said. So I did. I went around to your mother’s house and I told her that I wanted to marry her, that if she became my wife I’d spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy, and you know what? I know she wanted to say yes. Because she loved me. Don’t get me wrong – I know she loved your father. But not like the way she loved me. We were different. We were that one in a million.’
I’m struggling to comprehend everything he’s saying, and I’m angry too because he’s suggesting that my mom loved him more than she loved my dad and I don’t want that to be true. ‘So why didn’t she say yes, then? If she loved you so much?’ I ask.
‘Because she was pregnant with you.’
The fog dissolves. I finally get it; I understand why he’s hated me all these years, why he hates my father. I’m what kept them apart.
‘So do you see what I’m saying to you?’ he asks, interrupting the thoughts that are flying around my head like debris after an explosion.
‘No,’ I say.
‘My God, you are stupid. What the hell does she see in you?’
I think that’s supposed to be rhetorical, so I stay quiet.
‘My daughter loves you,’ he says in the face of my silence. ‘I admit I wasn’t exactly thrilled when I found out you two were dating, but I can’t stand here and let Jessa screw up her life. She loves you,’ he says again. ‘And if I’m not mistaken, I heard you telling Riley that you still love her.’
‘It’s too late,’ I mumble, echoing Jessa’s words.
He huffs loudly. ‘Did you not hear a word I just told you?’ He shakes his head at me, exasperated. ‘You were wrong about one thing, you know. About me not knowing my daughter. I’ve been watching her these last nine months. She’s been mourning not just Riley but you too.’ He takes a step towards me and lowers his voice. ‘I saw the girl she was blossoming into when you were around. She’s lost that bloom, Kit, that light in her eyes. I want you to give it back to her. God knows, I helped put it out too and I’m trying now to make it up to her. She’s all I’ve got left.’
He swallows and I watch him struggle to get his emotions under control; his eyes brighten with tears. ‘And if you don’t,’ he says to me, ‘you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting what could have been, wishing you’d had the guts to fight that little bit harder. Believe me.’
‘I’ve tried,’ I say, trying to get my head around the fact he’s no longer warning me off Jessa but telling me to fight for her. ‘She’s not interested.’
‘Are you a goddamn marine or not?’ he suddenly roars.
My back straightens automatically and my heels click together before I remember that I’m not any more. ‘No, sir,’ I answer. ‘Not any more.’
He does a surprised double take at the news but then dismissively shrugs the comment off. ‘Once a marine, always a marine,’ he tells me. ‘And marines never goddamn quit.’ He takes a step towards me and pokes me in the chest with his index finger. ‘You get back in the ring.’
‘Yes, sir,’ I shout back.
He nods at me, seemingly satisfied, and I breathe out, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. What the hell did I just agree to? Then I see that he’s right. Of course he’s right. What the hell was I thinking? I’m a stupid idiot. He’s right. I pat my pockets, searching for my keys, my phone. I need to go. I need to find her. I spin around and head for the exit.
‘Oh, and Kit?’
I turn back. Kingsley’s standing with his hands on his hips, looking vaguely triumphant and a lot more like the Colonel Kingsley of old.
‘I have a room full of trophies back at the house – remind me to show them to you some time,’ he says.
Hah. ‘Got it,’ I shout, grinning before breaking into a jog.
55
Jessa
Once I finish the call with Todd, I switch off my phone and throw it onto the passenger seat, and for a few minutes just sit behind the wheel of my car staring into space. I feel hollow and empty, like a buoy floating on open ocean alone and untethered.
The one thing I learned after Riley’s death was that I could either sink or learn to swim again, but now I realize there’s also a third option – floating. Life might be easier if I don’t try to fight it and instead just let it pull me along. Floating was what I did before Kit, and it’s also what I’ve been doing with Todd. It seems like the easiest option. It certainly doesn’t take much effort.
I start the car and pull out of the lot. I don’t have a destination in mind, I just feel the need to drive, and unconsciously, when I hit the freeway, I take the route east, heading in the same direction Kit took that first night when we went stargazing out in the desert. I wonder what subconscious thought is pulling me in that direction and wonder if it’s really the best idea to churn up more memories when I’m trying to forget him, but because I’ve decided just to go with the flow of things, I keep driving.
About two miles out of town, though, I see a sign for the cemetery where Riley is buried, and on a sudden whim I throw the car across three lanes and take the exit, ignoring the blast of horns from the cars I cut up.
I drive slowly into the parking lot. I’ve only been to visit a couple of times since the funeral. When I think of Riley, I don’t like to think of him dead, lying in a coffin beneath the ground. I like to think of him alive, so when I want to feel close to him I go to the places where he used to hang out: the beach, the pier, the basketball court. I spend time with baby Riley.
Climbing out the car I think about Kit, wondering if I’ll see him before he leaves. Maybe it’s all for the best if I don’t ever see him again. What good could possibly come of it?
I’m walking with my head down, so I don’t notice the person stand
ing in the way until I bump into them.
‘Sorry,’ I mumble and try to walk around them, but they step sideways and block my path. I look up, and all the breath leaves my body in a rush, leaving me swaying on my feet. Kit’s standing right in front of me as though my subconscious has conjured him out of thin air. I have to blink a few times to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
‘Hi,’ he says, looking as shocked as I am.
‘Hi,’ I stammer.
‘I—’ he says, at the same time as I say,
‘What are you—?’
We both stop. I notice Kit looks anxious, out of breath, like he has some place to be.
‘I was just visiting the grave,’ he says. ‘Riley.’
I nod. I can’t seem to look at him. My cheeks are on fire.
‘I . . . I went around to your dad’s,’ I say. ‘He said you’d gone to the recruiting office.’
‘Yeah,’ Kit says.
I stare down at the ground, tears smarting my eyes. I don’t want him to see me crying, though, so I force myself to blink them away. ‘Right. OK,’ I say. Shit. I don’t know what to say to him.
‘Jessa?’
I look up. ‘I don’t love him.’ The words just fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. I ram my mouth shut.
‘What?’ Kit asks.
‘Todd.’ Again I ram my mouth shut. Why am I telling him this?
A smile seems to twitch for a moment at the edge of Kit’s mouth, but he shakes his head and it disappears. ‘OK. But listen . . . ’
‘I love you.’ Nope. Can’t seem to stop myself.
Kit looks as stunned as I feel. ‘What?’
Suddenly I realize something, something momentous, something that makes me want to hit myself because I’ve been so blind and so stupid. How did I not see until now?
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I say in a rush, ‘if you’ve re-enlisted for another four years. I’ll wait. I don’t care. I want to be with you. With you. No one else.’
Kit blinks at me, raising his eyebrows. ‘You’d wait for me for four years?’