by E. A. West
A hint of a smile touched his lips. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and talking to therapists. It’s time to face what those boxes hold, but I can’t do it alone.”
“Do you want to do it tonight? Or maybe you’d rather wait a couple of days.”
“No, I’ve put it off way too long already.” He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “If you don’t mind getting back to campus late, I’d like to go through them after my parents finish welcoming me home.”
“Of course I don’t mind. I just need to be back in time for my class in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure you’re there.” He glanced at her. “Thanks.”
“I’m happy to do it. I love you, Danny.”
He smiled but didn’t say anything, and she left him to his thoughts. He might be stable enough to come home, but he still had a lot of demons to battle, some of which he’d likely never talk to her about. But he knew she’d stand beside him regardless of what he was fighting and that he could rely on her to give him whatever assistance he needed. Well, he knew it right now anyway. It was difficult to say what he’d remember when life got hard for him to handle.
His parents greeted them both warmly and invited Cindy to stay for dinner. When Linda left the living room to prepare the meal, Danny held onto Cindy’s hand, preventing her from following and offering to help. Tom excused himself a moment later, and Danny released his grip on Cindy. “Sorry, I just didn’t want you leaving me. You probably shouldn’t be doing much anyway because of your wrist.”
“My wrist is fine, except for a constant dull ache and the cast being itchy.”
“You’re not the only one with an itchy cast.” He studied his plaster-encased hand. “I wonder if they’ll take it off early.”
“Only if you heal faster than they anticipate.” She leaned back in her seat with a sigh. “This couch is really comfortable.”
He turned to face her, propping his knee on the cushion. “You look tired. Have you been sleeping enough?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Probably not. I had midterms all last week, and I was studying in between those and visiting you.”
He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You should have brought your books with you.”
“No,” she said, catching his hand with a smile, “you needed me to be fully there for you, not physically there with my mind on whatever the textbook said.”
He leaned closer, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Have I told you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me?”
“A time or two, but I’d do it even if you hadn’t.”
“And that is one of the many things I love about you.” He lightly brushed his lips across hers. “You are generous to a fault and would move mountains for those you care about, all without ever expecting a ‘thank you’ in return.”
She scooted closer as she met his gaze, the warmth in his eyes sending sparks racing through her veins. “The thank yous are still nice.”
He put an arm around her and pulled her to him, lowering his head for another kiss. Cindy melted into him, her heart thumping in rhythm with his. Being here with him now convinced her more than ever that he was worth putting up with his problems. No other guy had shown her such devotion and love, and she’d never felt so complete with anyone else.
Danny drew back and leaned his forehead against hers, looking deep into her eyes. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed being able to hold you like this. Every time you came to visit me, I wanted to kiss you and hold you close, but I didn’t dare with everyone around. I know you’re not going to abandon me if I have to go into the hospital again, but I want to make sure you know how much you mean to me. Having you come visit me every day — that probably did as much to help me as the counseling they gave me and the doctor adjusting my meds.”
Her eyes misted over. “You know how much I love you, right?”
He nodded as he straightened and thumbed a tear from her cheek. Concern touched his features as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re supposed to be happy, not crying.”
“I am happy.” She laid her palm along his jaw, the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow rasping against her skin. “The tears are because it makes me so happy to know you love me as much as I love you.”
He chuckled and leaned into her touch. “In other words, you’re being a woman — you know, the kind who cries at weddings.”
Cindy laughed as she lowered her hand. “Something like that. My best friend in high school used to say I’d probably cry at my own wedding.”
“Hmm, that could be interesting.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear as his father returned to the room. “I’ll make sure you have plenty of tissues.”
She stared at him, her mouth opening slightly. Did he mean he planned to be at her wedding? As the groom? Her heart raced, and he winked before turning to his father.
“Hey, Dad, did Mom say how soon dinner will be ready?”
Tom chuckled. “Hungry?”
“You know I prefer Mom’s cooking to hospital food.” Danny flashed Cindy a grin. “The VA has pretty good food, but it’s still a far cry from a home-cooked meal.”
She struggled to find her ability to speak, her thoughts still on his teasing comment about her wedding. “Uh, yeah, I would imagine so.”
“Well, Danny,” Tom said, “you’ll be happy to know I came in here to let you know dinner is ready. But I’m afraid it doesn’t count as home cooked.”
“She’s feeding us raw food?”
“Not exactly. We’re having sandwiches.”
“It’s still in a house, which automatically makes it better than institutional food.” Danny stood and held out his left hand to Cindy. “Shall we?”
She took his hand, and he helped her to her feet. He kept her hand in his as they followed Tom, and she wondered if he’d meant anything other than teasing by his tissues comment. No need to worry about it, however. He’d let her know how he felt sometime, and it was pointless to read a meaning that might not even be there. Unfortunately, her heart wasn’t willing to listen to logic.
As they stepped into the kitchen, Linda smiled and placed a bowl on the table. “I see Tom told you dinner’s ready.”
Danny nodded, scanning over the contents of the table. He paused and looked at his mother, a smile creeping across his face. “You made potato salad.”
Linda walked over and patted his cheek. “Of course I did.”
He wrapped her in a hug. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome, honey.” When he released her, she stepped back and smiled at Cindy. “I’ll have to give you the recipe.”
“Yeah, I may have to make it sometime.” What had Danny told his parents about their relationship to make his mom volunteer to give her the recipe for his favorite food?
During dinner, Cindy realized Tom and Linda were treating her as a member of the family instead of a good friend who was still an outsider. Don’t read anything into it. She had trouble convincing her heart to listen to her head, but she made a valiant attempt that got her through the meal.
Danny told his parents he wanted to unpack, and then he took Cindy’s hand and led her to his room. He closed the door, turned around, and looked past her to the two boxes in the middle of the floor. The boxes from his dorm room were stacked against the wall.
“I can do this,” he murmured and drew in a deep breath. He took a step toward the boxes and glanced at Cindy. “Help me with the tape?”
“Sure.” She had a feeling his need for assistance was emotional, not physical. Lord, give him strength.
She joined him by the boxes and peeled off a long strip of tape. The box flaps lifted slightly, and Danny opened them all the way. He released a breath and pulled out a stack of neatly folded desert camouflage pants.
“I wore these things every day for a lot longer than I want to think about.” He shook his head and laid the pants on his bed. “Strangely enough,
as much as I like not having to wear a uniform anymore, I kind of miss it, too.”
He set a stack of tan T-shirts on the pants and then pulled out a flat case. He handed it to Cindy, and she met his gaze, not liking the haunted expression she found there.
He motioned to the box. “Will you take that to my dad?”
“What is it?”
“Medals.” He looked away. “I just… I can’t deal with them right now.”
He’d earned medals for his service? He had never mentioned it to her. Studying him, she realized the memories attached to them troubled him deeply. “Are you going to be okay while I take this to him?”
“Yeah.” He looked into the box. “Wait. There’s something else you can give him.”
She accepted the large sheathed knife, wondering if he was truly ready to be out of the hospital. Was he worried about the temptation to hurt himself if he had an easily accessible weapon? Or was it the memories that made him want the weapon in his father’s possession, along with the medals?
“I’ll be right back,” she said, moving toward the door.
Danny pulled a photograph out of the box and sat down on the edge of his bed. “I’ll be here.”
She found his parents in the family room, watching a news program. Linda turned off the TV, and Tom raised his eyebrows, his attention on the items in Cindy’s hands. “What do you have there?”
“A couple of things Danny asked me to give you.” She carried them over and handed them to him.
Tom looked at the case and the knife, and then lifted his gaze to meet hers. Concern tempered the hope in his eyes. “Did he say why?”
“He just said he can’t deal with them right now.”
Linda spoke softly. “That looks like the knife…” She looked up at Cindy, her eyes misting over. “He’s finally unpacking those boxes?”
Cindy smiled and nodded. “Yeah. And I need to get back to him. He just wanted those out of his room.”
She left Tom and Linda a little teary but happy. When she stepped into Danny’s room, she found him holding a battered sock monkey. “Revisiting your childhood?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Not exactly, although I did name him Guillermo. The youth group at my captain’s church sent him a couple of boxes of these monkeys so he could pass them out to us. They said something about the sock monkeys providing us with a little comfort when we had a rough day.”
She walked over and slipped an arm around his waist. “Did it work?”
He leaned his head against hers and tossed the monkey toward his pillow. “Yeah, surprisingly it did. That poor little sock monkey took a lot of abuse because it was either that or lose it with my platoon. I’ve never experienced so much stress as a bad day in a war zone.”
He reached into the box and pulled out a stack of letters and cards held with a rubber band. When he handed them to her, she caught sight of the odd address on the front and figured he’d received them while deployed. The return address made her heart skip a beat and her shoulders tense. She managed to keep her voice nonchalant. “Where do you want these?”
He glanced at the top envelope and cleared his throat. “Ah, sorry about that. I didn’t realize those were the ones from Shannon. I thought they were from my family.”
He took them but made no move to put them down anywhere. Finally, he met her gaze, looking so vulnerable she wanted to cry.
“I don’t know what to do with them,” he whispered. “I should probably get rid of them, but… I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay, Danny,” Cindy said in a soothing tone. She took the stack again and fought the urge to toss it in the trash. Instead, she moved to the small table under the window. “I’ll set them here for now. You can deal with them whenever you’re ready.”
He drew in a shuddering breath as she returned to his side. “I didn’t expect to feel so strongly just seeing her name. I thought I was past all that.”
She gave him a hug, realizing she shouldn’t feel jealous or threatened by his ex-fiancée. Shannon was nothing to him but a mistake in his past. “It takes time, and you still have a lot of memories to deal with. Unpacking all of this stuff is the first step.”
He put an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “How did you become so understanding?”
“I don’t know, but I’m discovering it’s a useful skill.” She smiled, hoping to lighten his mood.
The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “It’s very useful, especially with someone who has as many ghosts as I do.”
He gave her another kiss then turned his attention to unpacking the box. Cindy watched him sift through the debris from his time in the army, sorting out some items to place on shelves around his room. She wandered over to study the photo of his platoon he had propped against a canteen on a shelf by his dresser. He was perched on the hood of a Humvee, surrounded by the men he’d served with. One of the faces in the back of the group caught her attention. She turned to find Danny moving the mostly empty box to the floor by his closet.
“Is that Alex?”
He shoved the box against the wall with his foot and walked over to stand beside her. “Is who Alex?”
She pointed out the smiling young man with his arms propped on the roof of the Humvee. “That.”
Danny peered at the photo and nodded. “Yeah. That was about three months before he came home for good.” He pointed to the man sitting beside him on the hood. “That’s Captain William Barnett, the one responsible for the sock monkeys. I owe him my life.”
Cindy looked at the smiling man who couldn’t be over thirty-five. “What did he do?”
“You won’t like it.”
“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “Haven’t you figured out by now the worst that can happen is you make me worry about you a little more?”
He led her over to sit beside him on his bed and held tightly to her hand as he spoke softly. “It was right before they shipped me home, not too long after I mistook that kid for a sniper. Everything caught up to me all at once, and I couldn’t find a way out. I took my sidearm and—” He looked at her, his eyes glistening. “Cindy, I’ve regretted it ever since it happened, but you’ve got to understand how badly messed up I was. I didn’t see any other option until Barnett came into my tent and took the gun from my hand. A private I’d been with all day had gone to him, worried because I was acting strange. When Barnett arrived, he took my weapon and promised to get me help. He stayed with me until they took me to another base. They had a psychiatrist there who evaluated me, put me on twenty-four-hour watch, and ordered me on the next flight to the U.S. I went straight from that base to the first psychiatric ward I stayed in.”
She leaned against him, fighting tears at the pain in his story. “I’m so glad Captain Barnett was there.”
“Me, too.” He pulled his hand from hers and put his arm around her, holding her close. “He came to check on me when our unit came home. He still sends me emails to make sure I’m doing okay and getting the help I need. William Barnett is one of the best men I’ve ever known, and I can never thank him enough for everything he’s done for me. I’ll always be grateful to him for keeping me from doing the stupidest thing I’ve ever tried.”
She slipped her arm around his waist, willing him to feel the healing love and knowing she’d always be grateful for William Barnett as well.
After a moment, Danny sighed and stood. “I need to go through that other box.”
Cindy stayed seated on the bed, though she turned to watch him open the second box. He pulled out a handful of DVDs and CDs and laid them aside. Paperback books, some photos, and a couple of magazines came out next. When he reached in again, he froze.
“Danny? What’s wrong?” She shifted closer but couldn’t see what had caused such a strong reaction.
He slowly pulled out a small brown teddy bear. Lifting his gaze, he looked at her with damp eyes. “I forgot about this.”
She joined him by the box, touching the bear�
�s soft fur. “Tell me about it.”
“When I tried to find the parents of that boy… the one I killed…” Danny’s voice quavered, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “I learned he had a little sister. I bought this bear for her. I tried to tell myself it wouldn’t make up for losing her brother, but I had to do something. My mistake cost that family so much, and I knew that little girl would need something to provide comfort. But I couldn’t give the bear to her. No one would tell me where the family was or even give them anything from me. Everyone said I needed to let it go and move on. Forget it ever happened. I can’t forget that, Cindy!”
She put her arms around him, holding him close as he shuddered, and prayed for his comfort. “I don’t expect you to forget it, and neither does your family. We just want you to forgive yourself so you can move on. I’m sure someone told that family how sorry you were for accidentally shooting their son. And you’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing. Now you’ve got to clear yourself of any wrongdoing so you can go on with life.”
He clung to her, the bear still clutched in his hand. Maybe she should have insisted he wait for another day to go through the second box, but she doubted he would have listened. When he made up his mind to do something, he’d do it regardless of what anyone else said. But it bothered her to see him this upset mere hours after coming home from the psychiatric ward.
“Danny,” she said, stroking his hair, “maybe you’d better wait until tomorrow to face any more ghosts. I understand that you want to finish with these boxes, but I don’t want you to force yourself to do it if you need to take a break.”
He drew in a long, shaky breath and straightened. He glanced at the bear in his hand then tossed it into the first box. “You’re right. I should take a break and think through what I’ve already unpacked. You want to take a walk?”
What she really wanted was a nap, but she smiled and nodded anyway. He needed her to walk with him, and she could sleep later. “Sure.”