The Marine and Me

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The Marine and Me Page 14

by Cathie Linz


  “She’s too good.”

  “Good?”

  “For me.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “She’s had a tough life. Her parents died when she was a kid and she was shipped off to a relative who didn’t want her. She needs some stability. A guy who can be there for her 24/7.”

  “And that’s something a Marine can’t promise.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “So why did you get involved with her in the first place?”

  “I was just going to show her how to have some fun, to live it up a little, have some adventures.”

  “Like being electrocuted?”

  “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Rad was right you know, as much as I hate to admit it. The best-laid plans go up in smoke when the right woman is involved.”

  “She’s not right for me and there’s no way I’m right for her.”

  “No? It sounds like in teaching her to walk on the wild side, you fell for her big time.”

  “If that’s what it sounds like to you, then you need to have your hearing checked. I understand that’s a problem as you get older.”

  “I can still take you in an arm-wrestling contest any day of the week, bro.”

  “I doubt that. You’re domesticated now.”

  “You always try to push my buttons when you’re on the defensive.”

  “Time to change the subject,” Steve ordered. “Have you gotten any e-mails from Tom lately?”

  “I got one yesterday. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  “He’s in the middle of a combat zone and he sounded calmer than you do.”

  “I’m hanging up now,” Steve growled.

  “Wait. What about you coming down here?”

  “I’ll think about it.” But all he could think about after ending his call was Striker’s accusation.

  What did it really matter in the end whether Steve had developed feelings for Chloe or not? He wasn’t right for her. They came from different backgrounds and were going different places. He was a Marine who could be shipped off to any hot spot in the world where he was needed. She was an intellectual librarian who loved books and her home. She listened to Mozart, he listened to Aerosmith. He didn’t belong in her world and she didn’t belong in his.

  “You look like you could use a friend,” Patrick noted before joining him.

  “I’m not in the mood for polite conversation at the moment.”

  “I gathered that much from the way you were talking to whoever was on the phone.”

  “My brother Striker.”

  “Ah, is that what this is about? You two had an argument?”

  “Not really.”

  “Are you still upset about me taking off with Wanda yesterday?”

  Had it only been yesterday? Steve couldn’t believe how much had changed since then. “I’m done giving my grandmother advice,” Steve stated. “And I’m done acting as your go-between. If you have something to say to her, don’t tell me about it.”

  “Fine by me.” Patrick shoved a beefy hand through his thick white hair. “I won’t be needing your assistance any longer anyway. We had a grand time at the pancake house. Cleared some things up.”

  Great. His grandmother and Patrick were starting a relationship while Steve had just ended his with Chloe. Maybe it was time that he took a page out of his grandmother’s book and blew this place. Chicago no longer held much appeal for him. Maybe he should swing by Texas on his way back to Camp Pendleton.

  That would certainly be better than sitting here moping.

  Wanda came knocking on Chloe’s door Sunday evening. “I’ve got a new toy for Sweetie,” she announced cheerfully before falling silent at the sight of Chloe’s red-rimmed eyes.

  “It’s allergies,” Chloe hastily stated, tossing a crumpled facial tissue into the trash.

  “You’re not allergic to Sweetie, are you?”

  “No.” The kitten had been the one bright spot in her day.

  “Are you allergic to stubborn Marines then?”

  Chloe didn’t know how to answer that.

  “Did he do something stupid? He’s my grandson and I love him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think he can make mistakes.” Wanda was wearing a T-shirt that said I’m Not Opinionated, I’m Just Always Right.

  “I’m the one who made a mistake,” Chloe replied.

  “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

  “No. Not in this case. I really don’t want to talk about it, Wanda. I appreciate that you’re just trying to help, but honestly…” Her throat tightened with emotion.

  Wanda patted her hand. “I understand. But don’t give up on my grandson just yet, okay? Things have a way of working out.”

  Wanda hightailed it out of Chloe’s kitchen and into her own, where she almost knocked over her Texas turtle in her eagerness to reach for the cordless phone sitting on the kitchen table. “Young people,” she muttered under her breath.

  She’d known something was up but Steve hadn’t said a word. And he’d taken off someplace without telling her where. Nursing his wounds, no doubt. Just like a man. Instead of talking about what was wrong.

  “You need to speak to your son!” Wanda told her own offspring.

  “Which one?”

  “Steve, of course. You need to talk to him.”

  “About what?”

  “About falling in love.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I’m not butting into his love life and you shouldn’t either.” Stan sounded stern.

  “That is no way to talk to your mother.”

  “I’m telling you this for your own good.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re saying it because you’re afraid to talk to your own son about emotions.”

  “It’s not something guys talk about.”

  “That is stupid.”

  “No, it’s not. Not butting in is a good thing. If I were being nosy I’d want to know what was going on with that guy who picked you up on a Harley. But I’m minding my own business because you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And because you won’t listen to what anyone else has to say about it anyway. Neither will Steve.”

  “I am not making a big mistake. Steve is.”

  “Remember that Polish proverb you told me about?”

  “Which one?” Wanda retorted. “I have told you about many over the years.”

  “Do not push the river, it will flow by itself.”

  “Yes, but in the wrong direction!”

  “Maybe you should talk to Angela.” A second later Stan had put his wife on the phone.

  “What’s wrong?” Angela sounded concerned.

  “Your husband is afraid to talk to Steve about falling in love.”

  “Of course he is. That’s no surprise. Men are bad enough at avoiding their emotions. Marines are even worse. Tell me what happened.”

  “Steve made Chloe cry.”

  “He wouldn’t do something like that deliberately. He’s not cruel. But I was afraid that things might get rocky.”

  “You could see this coming?”

  “They haven’t known each other that long….”

  “They’ve known each other longer than Chuck and I knew one another before we got married.”

  “Times have changed.”

  “Not for the better.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “The Kozlowski men have a tradition of love at first sight. His brothers may not have been hit that way, but Steve was. I could tell.”

  “There did seem to be a lot of chemistry between them that night we had dinner together. But it’s not something we can force,” Angela said. “In the end, this really is between Steve and Chloe.”

  Wanda sighed. “I fear it may be the end of them both.”

  Early Monday morning Chloe busied herself in the reference section of the library, completing the daily routine before the library opened—setting up the desk, turnin
g on the computers and copier machines, checking the book carts to see if more books needed to be added to the nonfiction display of recent releases. She walked by another book-display area featuring books on natural disasters, from the Johnstown Flood to the Chicago Fire.

  Her personal life felt like a natural disaster. There had been no sign of Steve or his Harley at Wanda’s house next door. She wondered it that meant he’d already headed back to California with its beaches full of gorgeous bikini-clad women.

  She’d spent much of Sunday reliving what had happened to her—from the rough balloon landing, to Steve’s passionate embrace, to his pushing her away.

  A mistake. This was a mistake.

  His words haunted her. So had the distant expression on his face. She’d never seen him like that before.

  Not even Sweetie and her soothing purrs had been able to cheer up Chloe. Even the kitten had connections to Steve. But that didn’t mean that Chloe was going to throw away the valuable lessons she’d learned during her time with Steve.

  She’d changed over the past few weeks. She wasn’t going to retreat back into her turtle shell again.

  “Can you help me?” an older man inquired.

  “Certainly.” Chloe smiled encouragingly.

  “I heard that a movie I liked, October Sky, out a few years ago, was based on a book.”

  As luck would have it, they’d recently done up a series of bookmarks with suggested reading materials on various subjects, one of which was “You Saw the Movie, Now Read the Book.” Sure enough, Chloe found the book listed. “That would be Rocket Boys by Homer Hickam. It’s in the biography section. Did you want me to show you where that is?”

  The man nodded and smiled gratefully. “Thanks so much for your help.”

  Chloe had lunch with Lynn at their regular spot, Paco’s Tacos, where she opened up to her friend, giving her a thumbnail version of what had happened. Chloe ended by saying, “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for a good-looking guy again. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson. But no. I’m dumb enough to get hit over the head with a stick a second time.”

  Lynn’s face reflected her disappointment as well as her outrage. “I thought Marines were supposed to be heroic and honorable.”

  “It’s not totally his fault. He made it clear that we were a team not a couple. Buddies. Nothing romantic. I’m the one who broke the rules.” Chloe shoved her fork into her taco salad, moving the fresh ingredients around rather than eating them. “Why did I have to go and fall in love with him?”

  “Maybe because he’s an incredible hottie. And he took you on a hot-air balloon ride.”

  “And kissed me like he really meant it, like I was the reason he drew breath. Then he backs away and tells me it was all a mistake.”

  Lynn raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like the guy panicked.”

  “He’s a Marine. They don’t panic.”

  “Sure they do, if emotions are concerned. After all, he is a male and they all panic when they get cornered.”

  “I wasn’t trying to corner him,” Chloe said.

  “I know you weren’t. But just maybe the guy got cold feet.”

  “He told me that I needed someone who could be there for me 24/7. That, because of my personal history, I needed security.”

  “Well, he does have a point I suppose.”

  “He was just making excuses.”

  “If that’s all he was doing, then why not just say that you didn’t have anything in common or just say he’d call you and then not do it?”

  “He was trying to be polite.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it worked very well.”

  “And even if he was telling me the truth, that means he thinks I’m some kind of clingy, emotionally needy wimp.”

  “That’s not how I’d describe you.”

  “I should hope not.” Chloe speared a tomato with her fork.

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  “Go on. Forget him.”

  “Do you really think you can do that?”

  “I’m a librarian. I can do anything.”

  Tuesday Chloe was scheduled to work the late shift, from one in the afternoon to nine at night. Since she had the morning off, she made an emergency run to the supermarket to get more kitten food. While driving home, she heard a Rod Stewart song on the radio, one they’d played the first day she’d met Steve when he’d driven her to the library.

  She could still recall how he’d tapped out the beat to this song with his fingers against the steering wheel of Wanda’s car. She’d watched his long fingers and wondered how it would feel to have him tapping out a sensual beat on her. Now she knew. It felt incredible. Better than she could ever have possibly imagined.

  It was so difficult to believe that that night had only been a few weeks ago on a calendar, but ages ago experience-wise.

  When Chloe saw Wanda hurry out of her house, she braced herself for more advice on how she should get back together with Steve. She wasn’t prepared for the tears in the older woman’s eyes and her expression of desperation. It was the face of a woman who’d just heard terrible news.

  Chloe’s heart stopped. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Is it Steve?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Have you seen Steve?” Wanda demanded in a choked voice.

  “No, I haven’t. What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Chloe repeated.

  Wanda nodded, too upset for a moment to speak.

  Chloe’s entire body went cold. Terrible visions filled her head. Steve in a motorcycle accident. Him injured, sprawled out on the street, his blood on the pavement. “What happened?”

  “Steve took off on that motorcycle of his.” Wanda sounded as frantic as she looked. “He just roared out of here.”

  Oh no! Chloe could feel herself getting light-headed. She sank onto the front porch steps. The same steps where she’d sat with her knitting on her lap and admired Steve as he fixed her car. The same steps where he’d handed a trembling kitten over to her.

  “How bad is it?” Her voice was unsteady.

  Wanda shook her head and wiped away tears. “It sounded very bad.”

  “He’s still alive?”

  “The last I heard, yes.”

  “What hospital is he in?”

  “They’re sending him to a military hospital in Germany.”

  Chloe blinked in confusion. “Steve was in an accident and they’re sending him to Germany?”

  “Steve was in an accident?” Wanda repeated, her forehead creased in obvious confusion.

  “I thought that’s what you said?”

  “No.”

  “Then who is being sent to the hospital in Germany?”

  “Steve’s twin brother Tommy. He was seriously injured in an ambush in the Middle East. When Steve heard the news, he just took off. I thought maybe he went to see you at the library?”

  “No.”

  “Where could he have gone? He was so upset, I hate to think of him all alone. He needs to be with his family at a time like this. His parents are coming over. They just phoned me with the news a few minutes ago.”

  Knowing how close the brothers were, Chloe could only imagine how upset Steve must be.

  Where would he go at a time like this? She figured he’d want to be alone. Then it suddenly hit her. Sanctuary. She remembered him mentioning a special place of his downtown along Lake Michigan.

  “I may know where he is. Let me check it out.” She gave Wanda her cell-phone number. “If you hear anything, let me know.”

  Wanda hugged her. “Please, just find Steve and bring him home.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Chloe promised.

  Steve needed to be alone until he got himself under control. The news of his twin’s injury had come on the heels of his own discomfort that something was wrong. When he’d asked Striker yesterday if he’d heard from Tom, Steve hadn’t really had any premonition of imminent danger. But in the middle of the night, Steve had woken in a cold sweat
, grabbing his left thigh, just above the knee.

  He’d tried to tell himself that it had been a nightmare, nothing more than that.

  But it hadn’t felt like any nightmare he’d ever had before. Unless you counted that time that Tom had had appendicitis and Steve had felt his pain in his dreams that night.

  But that had been years ago, when they were kids. He’d started to wonder if he’d imagined the connection, if the story had grown in his head over the years. Now he knew better.

  He also knew, without having to be told, that his twin was fighting for his life.

  And so here Steve was, thousands of miles away, willing Tom to survive with a fierce intensity that was all-consuming.

  He’d been sitting here for hours now.

  Maybe he should have gone to a church and prayed. But this was his special sanctuary. One of them, anyway. He’d come without even thinking about it, just hopped on his Harley and headed straight here. To think.

  Chloe stared at the isolated figure of a man sitting on top of a picnic table, his elbows resting on his denim-clad knees, his shoulders hunched forward. He was wearing the brown leather bomber jacket she’d come to know so well. But he had none of his customary confidence.

  She looked around. They were alone. The chilly beach was deserted this time of year. The neighboring few park benches were empty, the grass covered with fallen leaves. A solitary beam of sunlight briefly bolted out of the otherwise cloudy sky.

  Just a few weeks ago Chloe would have kept her distance, not wanting to intrude on someone else’s space or privacy.

  But now her one thought was that Steve was hurting, and she didn’t want him to be alone. So she came closer, sliding up onto the table beside him without saying anything. Still without saying a word, she put her arm around him to let him know she was here for him.

  “How did you find me?” His voice was ragged.

  “I remembered you telling me that you had a special place. I checked all the beaches until I reached the right one. Wanda sent me to bring you home.”

  “Is there any more news?” Steve hadn’t realized he’d left his cell phone back at his grandmother’s house until he’d gotten down here. “I don’t have my phone with me.”

  “No more news. I called Wanda a minute ago to tell her I’d found you.”

  “I felt it, you know.” He turned his head to look at her, his green eyes bleak. “In the middle of the night. A red-hot pain in my leg. I knew something was wrong. With Tom. I told myself I was just dreaming it, but I knew. I’m a Marine. I know how quickly things can go wrong. You put it out of your mind, though.”

 

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