Fresh-Start Family

by Lisa Mondello

  She laughed quick and loud. “You can say that again. But I have to admit, it’s something I love about him.”

  “Me, too. He’s a great kid.”

  “Yes, he’s a blessing. But he is a handful, and it makes it hard for me to fulfill my orders for Eye for Style.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Eye for Style?”

  “My company. Clothing designs. I got tired of the kinds of clothes we found on the base or in some of the stores where we were stationed, and I was pretty bored, so I started drawing sketches of things I liked and then sewed them myself. Some of the other women on base liked what I was doing and asked me to sew for them. It grew into a cottage industry. It helps pay the bills.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed.”

  “Well, don’t be too impressed yet. It’s a small company.”

  She couldn’t help but feel flattered by Tom’s response.

  “Sounds like a win-win situation.”

  “Definitely. Now that I don’t have to worry about rent, I can save money and put it aside for when Brian needs a kidney transplant. And he will need one eventually. I’m hoping Brian can ward off a lot of the problems my late husband had by early medical intervention and an eventual transplant. But right now he’s not sick enough to even be put on the donor list.”

  She glanced at Tom, who was hanging on her every word. For now. In her experience, military men got restless. How long would the newness of Chesterfield hold a man like Tom Garrison before he got the itch to leave?

  Tag pulled himself toward the kitchen door, away from the concern on Jenna’s face. The worry in her eyes over Brian’s condition was hard to ignore. He’d seen that same type of alarm in the expressions of his family when he’d first returned from Afghanistan.

  His parents, grandparents, even his cousin Wolf, all wondered if what he’d gone through as a POW had been too much for him to take. The flashbacks he’d initially experienced had been severe enough that even he’d had doubts as to whether he’d ever be able to get through the day without reliving the horrors of captivity.

  But unlike his family, who always wanted to know what he was thinking and feeling, wanting him to remember things that were too painful for him to deal with, Jenna didn’t push any further than Tag was willing to go.

  And Tag wasn’t ready to go back to his memories of captivity. No matter what any military shrink said about learning to deal with his memories rather than pushing them away.

  His family and his doctors had been dead set against him coming out to Nebraska alone. It was clear they thought it would be better if he stayed back in Wisconsin with his family, kept his feet wet in the military by working at Fort McCoy.

  But what he needed was the opposite of what Jenna craved. Tag didn’t need to have his living relations hover over him with worry. He needed to start living his life again and learn to function without the weight of memories pulling him down.

  “I enjoy your company, Tom,” Jenna said as she walked him to his truck. “Brian does, too. And what you’re doing for us—”

  “I need to go to Valentine for supplies anyway. John Peers has been ordering for some of the other businesses in town, too, so it looks like I’ll be kept busy—for a while, anyway. There’s no trouble in taking you and Brian along with me.”

  “Then I’m grateful for it. And the extra time in my day to work.”

  She drew in a deep breath, but kept her distance. He was glad of that. Jenna was an affectionate woman and had an impulsive way of ending up in his arms, rattling him.

  They said their good-nights, and he climbed into his truck. His eyes roamed to the rearview mirror. She was just standing on the porch steps, watching him drive away. He could see her clearly under the porch light.

  He wasn’t exactly sure if he liked the unsettled feeling it gave him. But there was something stirring inside him that made him want to keep looking in that rearview mirror to see if he could still make out Jenna’s image.

  With eyes firmly planted on the road ahead, he blew out a quick breath. “Stop lying to yourself, Tag,” he grumbled to himself. “So Jenna has pretty eyes. Big deal.” And she could talk up a storm even when he had nothing to say.

  He was already looking forward to the next time he’d see her again.

  Chapter Six

  Tag washed the engine grease from his hands using the outside faucet rather than dirtying up Jenna’s sink in the kitchen. After inspecting his hands and deciding he’d gotten enough of the grime off, he wiped them dry with a clean rag. Working on an engine wasn’t exactly a white-collar job that left your fingernails clean. But it sure was satisfying when he got it up and running again.

  Tag hadn’t spent a lot of time working on car engines, but he had worked on planes. His love of aircraft didn’t stop with flying. An engine was an engine, and he’d managed to figure out a thing or two on Ben’s truck that would hopefully make it run farther than up the driveway before conking out on Ben or Jenna.

  It surprised him how much he liked all their company. These last months he’d spent pretty much by himself, not wanting to be around anyone else or have others intrude on his feelings, or ask questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

  He’d seen those same questions behind Jenna’s eyes. But when he’d shut himself down in front of her the other night, she hadn’t pried any further. And that made him feel comfortable enough to wonder if he’d been keeping himself hidden away long enough. He could use a little time out of hiding. He’d liked what little venturing into the real world he’d done where Jenna and Brian were concerned.

  On his last trip to Valentine he’d exchanged the part for Ben’s truck. Between the two of them, Ben and Tag had—with Brian’s enthusiastic, if unskilled, help—managed to get the engine running with a smooth purr. There were no guarantees with a vehicle this old, but after a quick drive to test it out, Tag figured the truck would be dependable enough for both Jenna and Ben to use around town. They had some miles left before they had to worry about dumping a load of money on a new vehicle and making high truck payments.

  Ben took care of parking the truck after dropping Tag outside the front door. As he walked into the house, Tag heard stomping on the floor and a door upstairs slam.

  “Brian!” Jenna hollered.

  “No! Go away!”

  The muffled voice was probably caused by Brian burying his head in the pillow as he screamed. Brian had been fine during dinner. He’d excitedly gone on about a field trip that was coming up at school. Tag wondered what had happened to bring on this tantrum.

  Jenna flew through the screen door and onto the porch. Her nerves seemed as frazzled as the hair coming out of her ponytail.

  “What’s going on?” Tag asked as he followed her outside.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head, lifting a plastic cup filled with liquid in the air. “Tomorrow the doctor is doing a CAT scan on the organs surrounding Brian’s kidneys. He needs to drink this barium drink tonight.”

  Tag made a disgusted face. “Does he really have to?”

  Jenna cocked her head to one side. “Be serious. Of course he does.”

  “Poor little man. That stuff is nasty.”

  “You’ve had it before?”

  “Unfortunately. Since it’s clear he doesn’t want to drink it, I take it he’s had it before, too?”

  Jenna sighed. “Yes. And it was a battle to get him to drink it the last time, as well. But he needs this dose tonight and another one tomorrow, right before the procedure. As stubborn as that boy can be, he’ll probably clamp his mouth shut from now until we pull up to the hospital tomorrow. If I can even get him to go. He’s flat out refusing because he knows what’s coming.”

  Ben breezed by the porch on his way to the barn and called out, “Stubborn? My grandson? He comes by it honestly. Reminds me a lot of you.”

  “Very funny, Dad.” She tossed him a wry look and rolled her eyes. “You’re not making this easy, either. I need you to come help me get Brian to cooperate.”
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  Ben shook his head. “Can’t do it. I need to round up those piglets and get them in the pen again. Brian keeps letting them out to play with them and then forgetting to tell me. I just saw one of them running free out toward the field. If it gets into the crops, we’ll never find it tonight and it could die.”

  Propping a hand on her hip, Jenna said, “Terrific. Yet another thing I have to talk to Brian about. He can’t be letting all the farm animals run free.”

  A slow smile crept up Tag’s face. “Well, the safety of the animals is a serious situation, but I can’t say that I blame him for being opposed to drinking that barium drink. Have you tried it? If you put that thing in front of me, I’d go running for the hills.”

  Her sweet lips pursed, and she started to chuckle. “You’re as bad as he is sometimes. This is a serious situation. He has to do this, Tom. It’s the only way the doctor can see if his condition is stable.”

  Tag put up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. I’m just sympathizing with the little man. You know, as one male to another.”

  With a piglet in his arms, Ben laughed as he walked around to the other side of the barn.

  “Dad?”

  Ben didn’t looked back as he hollered to her. “Tom can do the honors tonight. Maybe he can talk some sense into the boy. He won’t listen to me, either.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she sighed. “These are the times I wish Kent were here for reinforcement. My father is great, but Brian has him wrapped around his little finger.”

  “Look, if you want me to talk to him, I will. I’m not sure it will help, but it couldn’t hurt.”

  “If you can convince him to drink this whole cup down, I will be forever grateful.” Her face changed. “The warmer months are always worrisome. He has to drink a lot of fluids to help flush out toxins, and if he doesn’t—and he doesn’t—he could develop an infection. The doctor needs to know if there are any changes in his condition.”

  She blew out a quick breath that lifted the hairs on her forehead.

  Tag took the cup of barium from Jenna’s hand. Their fingers brushed for just a moment. As he lifted his eyes to hers, he took the cup and saw tears welling in her blue eyes. It must be hard to have to handle Brian’s medical issues and his rambunctious behavior.

  “We’ll have a talk. I’ll see what I can do.”

  She nodded quickly, holding herself around her middle as if holding herself together. “Thank you. Have him leave the empty cup on the bathroom sink. Not in his room. I don’t want to find it in the toy chest or under the bed three weeks from now.”

  Tag walked away, wondering if that simple touch had sent a shock wave through her as strongly as it had hit him. It had been just a brush of their fingers. Simple human contact. Yet even that small amount had been missing from his life for a long time.

  As he climbed the stairs, he tried to remember what it had been like the last time he’d seen Nancy, before he’d been shipped overseas. Sadly, those days were a blur—not because he didn’t want to remember them, but because they’d been too few toward the end. It was one of his biggest regrets.

  As he reached the top of the stairs, Tag heard Jenna’s voice outside through the second-floor window just above the porch. She was relaying her current frustration over Brian as Ben tried to console her.

  With determination, he turned toward Brian’s bedroom. After a quick knock on the door, he waited, but Brian didn’t answer. Pushing the door open, he paused. A child’s bedroom held so many things. It was a sanctuary that only those close enough were permitted to enter.

  “Brian?”

  No answer. Tag walked inside and glanced around the room. The crimson lava lamp on the nightstand came alive with movement. The superhero comforter on the bed was pulled back and rumpled over a pile of Legos that had yet to be put away. Brian wasn’t visible in the room, and Tag took a second to think of all the little crevasses that would make a perfect place for a child to explore.

  Or hide.

  Under the bed was too obvious, and Brian was too creative for that. It would be the first place Jenna would look. The closet was another dead giveaway.

  Tag’s eyes landed on a large toy cabinet, which sat kitty-corner between two windows. The door was shut and toys that should have filled it were piled high on the floor and on Brian’s bed. Figuring he’d hit pay dirt, Tag made his way toward the cabinet, knocking on the white painted wood as he crouched down.

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  After a brief pause Brian spoke from behind the cabinet door. “You won’t fit.”

  Tag smiled. “Then I guess you’d better come on out so we can talk.”

  The cabinet door creaked as it opened to reveal Brian sitting Indian style on the bottom shelf. He was hunched over, clutching a Bionicle and a flashlight, the back of his head pressed up against the shelf above.

  “I don’t want to.”

  Tag lifted an eyebrow. “Then you leave me no choice but to join you in there.”

  Brian was slow in turning, but Tag knew he was home free when the corners of Brian’s cheeks pulled back and then he burst into laughter.

  “Don’t worry. It’s safe. Your mom’s outside with your grandfather. It’ll be just you and me.”

  As he climbed out of the cabinet, Brian’s eyes fixed on the plastic cup Tag was holding and frowned. “I’m not drinking anything from that cup. It’s gross! No one can make me do it.”

  “Well, that’s true enough. But let’s have a chat, anyway.”

  “I’m not doing it,” Brian said stubbornly. He bounced onto the bed and pushed the comforter aside, pitching a few toys over to the floor with a crash. The noise didn’t seem to faze Brian, nor did the mess he’d created as he sat there scowling.

  “Your mom is asking you to do this only because it’s for your own good.”

  Brian rolled his eyes and looked at Tag.

  “Hey, Scout, I feel your pain. I really do,” Tag said, putting up a hand in surrender. “This barium drink is pretty disgusting stuff.”

  “That’s right,” Brian said with a stern nod.

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t have to drink it, though.”

  Brian wilted against the pillow, pushing away toys with his foot in irritation. “How come I have to do it? No one else I know has to.”

  “Says who?” Tag asked. “Last time I had a physical, I had to do it. It was a direct order from my CO. Now, if I had to do it, what makes you think you’re so different?”

  Brian considered it for a second. “It’s not the same. I betcha I’ve had to do it way more times than you.”

  Tag sighed as he sank onto the mattress, carefully picking up toys and rearranging them to make room for himself. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that. I’ve never had to see the doctor every week for anything, and no one is poking and prodding me like they do to you. I feel for you. But you know, there are lots of things I have had to do in my life that weren’t the greatest. Even though I didn’t like it, I still had to do them, anyway. I’ll bet there are other things you have to do that you don’t enjoy so much.”

  “Like?”

  “Like picking up your toys and putting them away.”

  “That’s nothing.”

  “How about making your bed?”

  “Mom does it for me.”

  “She does? And that doesn’t bother you any?”

  Brian folded his arms across his chest in an exaggerated way. “That’s what moms are supposed to do.”

  “Oh, really? I must have missed that one when I was straightening my bunk in the barracks.”

  “Moms don’t go into the marines.”

  Tag held himself back from laughing. The little guy was going to have an answer for everything Tag threw at him.

  “Well, some do. But they don’t go to make their sons’ beds. They go because they’re marines, too.”

  “Girls can’t be marines!”

  “Oh, yes, they can. Girls can join any branch of the service th
ey want. And they’re good soldiers, too. I’ve met a whole bunch of them.” Taking a second to regroup, he thought about what would matter to Brian. “You know, years ago, when I was in Army Ranger School, we used to have to do these drills in the Okefenokee Swamp—”

  “You said you were in the marines, not the army.”

  “I am—well, was. The Army Rangers aren’t just for military personnel in the army. There are soldiers from all the branches of the military who go through special training. And it’s a big deal, too. You can’t just sign up to be an Army Ranger. Only a certain number of soldiers who are smart and fit enough get invited to train and then only a few of them actually finish.”

  Being chosen to train as an Army Ranger was considered a privilege. Only two soldiers from his unit had been given the chance to even test to see if they had what it took to go into training. He remembered the pride he’d felt when he’d called Nancy to tell her the news and how the silence on the other end of the line had spoken volumes of her displeasure. All it had meant to her was that she’d be home alone a little while longer.

  He glanced at Brian, who finally seemed interested in something other than the drink Tag held in his hand.

  “We’d go out into the swamp for a couple of weeks at a time. The team had to survive with just what we had in our packs. Nothing more. If you got your gear wet, it stayed wet until you made it back to your barracks. Sometimes that meant walking around and sleeping in wet clothes and boots for weeks.”

  Brian’s jaw dropped open as he hung on Tag’s every word.

  “One particular day, while we were hiking through this thick patch of woods, we came to a section of river that we had to cross. Now, like I said, we didn’t want to get wet, but we knew we were going to have to if we were going to get across the river. Also, there was no way we could cross the river with the packs on our backs without all our gear getting wet. The water was too deep and the packs were too heavy to hold over our head and maneuver as we walked through the running water.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “We had a choice. We could all go in and get ourselves and our stuff completely wet and end up being miserable about it. Or one of us could strip down and then wade through the water to the other side so we could fashion a rope bridge to pull all our packs across. That way we could keep the gear and our boots dry.”