Mooch finally caught up with him. “Dog, why did you let them park that monstrosity there?”
The dog woofed softly, his tongue hanging out in a doggy smirk. He headed straight for the . . . gazebo. Yeah, that’s what it was called. If Mooch could stand it, he could manage a quick peek inside. After that, he’d head on into the house and get started. Mooch’s inspection of the gazebo lasted less than ten seconds, and then he was off to chase the squirrels back up the tree, leaving Spence to check it out for himself.
Okay, he could see why Callie would like it. The benches looked comfortable, making it the kind of place where she could curl up with a book. Definitely not his kind of place, though. He was about to walk away when he spotted something written on the back wall. It was too neatly done to be graffiti, but it seemed odd to think Nick would actually sign his work.
Spence took another step toward the small sign and then another one. Even from that distance he recognized Nick’s scrawl of a signature. Leif’s, too. What the hell? As soon as he got close enough to read the entire thing, he wished he hadn’t. The words punched him right in the gut, knocking the breath out of him in a painful rush. He staggered backward to collapse on the bench behind him. They’d dedicated this . . . this damn frilly thing to him? What in the world had they been thinking? He’d rather have had them designate one of the barstools at Liam’s place as the official Spencer Lang Memorial.
He stared at the words, still trying to make sense of the reasoning behind them. Nick and Leif had been his best friends. Brothers, really, a family forged in the fucked-up hell America’s warriors faced day after day. But brothers or not, the bastards had come home without him. Started new lives without him. He’d been so sure they’d forgotten him, taking all their memories of him and burying them under that glossy granite stone in the cemetery.
Yet here he sat with those words staring down at him: In celebration and remembrance of the life of Corporal Spencer Lang. Wheelman, we miss you. Sergeant Nick Jenkins, Corporal Leif Brevik, Callie Redding.
Okay, so maybe moving on without him hadn’t been easy for them. And what kind of selfish bastard was he to like the idea that they were torn up over the thought of him dying? He might not be happy with Nick and Leif, but right now he wasn’t liking himself much, either. His eyes burned as he pounded his fists on the bench as hard as he could, the thick padding the only reason he wasn’t doing serious damage to his hands.
He bit back the urge to howl as the shattered pieces of his life shifted yet again. The broken bits were mere fragments of memories: riding in the M-ATV with Nick and Leif; the vehicle flying through the air; waking up in pain and in chains; the long days spent in fear and darkness, knowing he’d driven over the bomb that had gotten his friends killed. How many times had he prayed for their forgiveness and then prayed for death?
Other images had been tossed into the mix now. Callie marrying Nick. Leif walking with a cane. Mooch chasing squirrels instead of dodging bullets. And Melanie with her gentle touch, bright red hair, and clear gray eyes that saw too much.
How the hell was he ever going to fit the pieces back together again? And what did he want the final picture to look like?
Finally, exhausted by the emotional turmoil, he leaned back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. This was getting him nowhere. It was past time to get off his ass and move on, just as his friends had done, which meant going through the house. He forced himself to read the words one more time in the hope their meaning would give him the strength to walk out of the gazebo and head right into the house. Like the man said, one step at a time. Opening the front door, crossing that threshold, and finally realizing this would never be home again was one hell of a step.
• • •
Leif eased his truck into a spot at the far end of the parking lot, trying not to kick up any rocks that could chip the paint on his truck. Nick was busying looking around, probably trying to spot Spence’s motorcycle. No dice.
“His bike’s not here.”
Yeah, as if Leif couldn’t see that for himself. “He said he’d be here.”
Nick laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “I don’t get it. The attorney went to great lengths to make it clear that Spence didn’t want us anywhere around him today while he went through the house. That we weren’t welcome.”
He held up his wrist so that Leif could see the time. “We were supposed to stay gone for another two hours, but then out of nowhere a text message asking us to meet him here. No explanations, not to mention that it had to be just us, not Callie. If she’d heard from Spence again, she would’ve said something.
“He’d better not be screwing with us.” Nick slashed his hand across his throat. “I’ve had it up to here with this shit.”
Leif wasn’t much happier about the situation, but he wasn’t ready to write Wheelman off completely. Maybe it was easier for him to be patient because for Callie and Nick, the old Victorian she’d inherited from Spence had been the foundation for all of their future plans. Now they were floundering.
“Let’s go check in the bar for him. If he hasn’t arrived yet, we’ll knock back a couple of beers and maybe shoot some pool. Even if he doesn’t show, the day won’t have been a total loss.”
Without waiting to see if Nick would follow, Leif got out of the truck and headed into the bar. Stepping inside, he waited by the door long enough for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. At first he thought Nick was right about Spence blowing them off, but then he spotted Wheels sitting at a booth in the far back corner with three beers in front of him. Not only that, but Liam, the owner, was carrying three burger baskets in that direction.
Leif was about to head back out to the parking lot to haul Nick’s slow ass into the bar when the door opened, saving him the trouble. Pitching his voice low, he said, “He’s back there. Looks like he’s either ordered us beers and burgers, or he’s especially hungry.”
Nick didn’t look any happier than he did when he thought Spence had blown them off. “This just gets weirder and weirder.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve been through weird stuff before and survived. Let’s give the man a chance.”
When Nick started to question him, Leif cut him off. “Let’s not forget that Wheels has been through some seriously bad shit, Nick. There’s no telling what happened to him over there. He might look okay, but we both know that he’s got to be seriously screwed up inside. Hell, look how long it took the two of us to get back to anything even remotely close to normal, and we weren’t guests of the insurgents for months on end.”
Nick finally relaxed his shoulders. “It doesn’t help that Wheels was wired wrong to begin with.”
Leif laughed and for the first time thought maybe there was a chance that the three of them would get through this without bloodshed. On the other hand, maybe a barroom brawl would finally clear the air. Anything was better than the constant strain of living in the middle of no-man’s-land.
He took that first step toward where Spence sat waiting for them. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather eat my burger while it’s still hot.”
Nick caught up with him. “Hope he remembered that I like mine with mayo and mustard.”
“Yeah, I know, and don’t forget the extra pickles. I’m betting he remembered.”
Leif hoped so, because that would mean the Spence they’d both known and loved like a brother was still inside the grimly silent man waiting for them in the back of the bar.
Chapter 20
Spence wanted to say he’d known that Nick and Leif would actually show up, but he tried not to lie to himself. And, boy, wouldn’t he have felt foolish sitting there with three beers and three burgers with all the fixings and no one to share them with? The only question was why they were hovering over near the doorway.
Leif met his gaze from across the room and slowly nodded. Message received and un
derstood. Evidently, Nick was having a hard time with this. No surprise there. Spence would give him a few more seconds and then go haul his ass over to the booth by whatever means necessary. He was already bracing himself for a fight when Nick abruptly led the charge across the bar.
He stopped short of the booth and stared at the burgers and fries. “I assume you ordered mine with mayo, mustard, and extra pickles.”
Spence gave him one of his patented smirks, one guaranteed to set Nick’s teeth on edge, or at least it always had. “Assume whatever you want to, Sarge.”
He tugged the basket that held Nick’s burger closer to himself. “If you’re not hungry, I am.”
Nick muttered a curse and slid into the opposite side of the booth and yanked the basket out of Spence’s grip. Leif took a seat on Nick’s side of the booth. No surprise there.
All three men concentrated on devouring their burgers and Liam’s generous servings of sweet potato fries. The meal wouldn’t last long as a diversion. Maybe all three of them were hungry, but Spence figured none of them was in a big hurry to get the real party started. He reluctantly dipped his last fry in the ketchup and popped it into his mouth. Leif cleaned out his basket a few seconds later with Nick finishing up right behind him.
Leif stacked the empty plastic baskets and tossed them on the table behind them, clearing the space between them of everything except their beers. Those wouldn’t last long, either, so Spence caught Liam’s eye and held up three fingers.
Nick launched the opening salvo. “You texted. We came. What’s up?”
Spence’s former sergeant usually yelled; he didn’t growl. Maybe he was having to force the words out around a fist-sized lump in his throat, too. Rather than get straight to the heart of the matter, Spence lobbed his next comment directly at Nick, knowing he’d get a rise out of him.
“So, was it your idea to park that . . . that thing in the backyard?”
Then without giving him a chance to respond, Spence gave Leif a hard look. “And please tell me you tried to stop him. At least say you let the rest of the unit know he left the army to take up gazebo building for a hobby, and they gave him serious grief and misery over it.”
He shuddered and rubbed his eyes as if trying to clear the image from his brain. “Because I’m telling you right now, I’m still feeling a little bit queasy. All those curlicues and white paint.”
Leif laughed; Nick didn’t. No surprise there.
“Rest assured, Wheels, I did indeed let everyone know. They were suitably horrified by the situation. I sent out pictures and everything. I’ve been told the video of him painting it went viral in certain circles.”
Nick bristled nicely. “That’s enough, you two.”
Except it really wasn’t. Spence smiled across at Nick. “I’m thinking a few cans of tan and army drab green spray paint would camouflage it. I’m certain the neighbors would be grateful.”
His former sergeant flipped him off. “Fuck off, Wheels.”
There was no real heat in the words, reminding Spence of so many similar conversations in the past. The context might have been different, but the trappings were familiar. God, how he’d been missing this. It was time to throw his friends a bone.
“Despite it making me break out in a rash, I couldn’t help noticing you did a nice job on the actual construction, Sarge. I knew you grew up swinging a hammer for your old man. Didn’t know you had a real talent for it.”
Leif rejoined the conversation. “He didn’t do it all by himself. I helped.”
He looked right proud of himself, but Nick snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, right. Mostly you got in my way. And as I recall, most of the time you parked your worthless ass in a lawn chair and drank beer.”
Spence could just picture it. “Sitting on his ass was always Leif’s specialty.”
The third member of their party looked offended. “I’ll have you know, Wheels, I was designated the official supervisor during the construction phase of the gazebo. I wouldn’t have been doing my job if I hadn’t watched him work.”
Now that Spence had given his friends some grief, it was time to get to the hard parts of the conversation. “I saw the writing on the back wall.”
The other two men sat up straighter and their faces became blank slates. The silence was so thick, Spence wasn’t sure he could break through it. Luckily, Liam made a timely appearance at the side of the table with twice the number of beers Spence had ordered. He carefully set two in front of each man. “The extra round is on me. Make them last awhile. If necessary, there’s more where these came from.”
In other words, he’d picked up on the tension between the three men and was hoping the beer would defuse the situation. If they nursed their drinks, they’d benefit from the relaxing effect of alcohol. It was smart thinking and might even work. Spence set his beer back down on the table and waited.
It was no surprise that it was Nick who took the lead. “Don’t hold back. Just spit it out, because I’ve got to be honest with you. It’s been damn hard to figure out what’s been going on in that thick skull of yours since you got back.”
What did he want to say about that? In fact, what could he say? As he tried to come up with the right words, he ran his finger up and down the drops of condensation on his beer bottle. Maybe the simple truth was best. “It wasn’t as bad as seeing my own tombstone.”
Nick’s face flushed red. “It’s probably not much comfort, but we were both pissed as hell about that happening. You’ve got to believe your uncle Vince never told anyone you’d been found. If I knew where the bastard was right now, there’d be nothing left of him except for a grease spot on the road.”
Leif reached for his second beer. “We made sure the marker was removed as soon as we knew. I had the caretaker at the cemetery put it someplace safe. Thought you might like to take a sledgehammer to it yourself. If not, I sure as hell would.”
It was a relief to know Spence wouldn’t have to look at that particular piece of polished rock again the next time he visited his folks’ graves. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
He noticed neither of them asked him why he hadn’t called them with the news himself. Maybe they’d already figured it out or maybe they just didn’t want to set off another firestorm. Either way, he was relieved not to have to explain something he wasn’t exactly proud of now.
Of course none of them had ever been great at talking about anything that smacked of emotions or touchy-feely stuff. It came as no surprise when they lapsed into silence and concentrated on drinking their beer. After a few minutes, Nick finally spoke up again. “So, Wheels, you called this meeting. What else is on the agenda besides giving me gazebo grief?”
Time for the hard stuff. “I went through the house. You’ve made some changes.”
“Yeah, we have, but nothing that can’t be undone if that’s what you want.”
No, that wasn’t what Spence wanted. In fact, seeing so much that was different had actually made the visit less painful than he’d expected.
He leaned back in his seat, grateful for even that little extra distance between him and Nick. “Describe to me what you had in mind for the rest of the place.”
Leif broke in to ask, “Why, Spence? Somehow I can’t see you running a bed-and-breakfast.”
“Maybe I’m just curious.” Spence pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for patience. “But mainly because Sarge here always told us to always gather as much information as possible before formulating a plan of action.”
“Nice to know that at least some of what I tried to teach you got through.”
Nick pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the table. Spreading it out, he made a rough sketch of what had to be the three floors of the house and the attic. It didn’t take him long to have it all laid out for the three of them to study.
He marked a cou
ple of small crosses on the rectangle he’d labeled with a 3. “We knocked out this wall and this one with the intent of making the third floor into a small apartment for me and Callie. We plan to make this side a combination kitchen and family room. The other half would be our bedroom and a small sitting room.”
He sketched in a few more details on the attic level. “Eventually, we thought this would make a nice master suite and bath. Then we’d turn these two rooms on the third floor into bedrooms for any kids we might have.”
Okay, now they were venturing into TMI territory for sure. Spence was still struggling with the whole idea of Nick and Callie being a couple. The thought that they were already thinking about a future with kids in it was too much to absorb. Rather than say so, he tapped his finger on the second-floor diagram. “So this is where you’d park any guests staying at the place?”
Nick nodded as he studied the rough sketch with the same intensity he used to bring to planning their next combat patrol. “We plan to modernize the plumbing in the existing bathroom and add at least one more. The kitchen will need upgrading with some commercial-grade appliances. We want to replace some of the existing furniture to make the living room and parlor more suitable for guests to hang out in. Callie has been restoring your mom’s rose garden out front, so we were going to call the bed-and-breakfast Rose Blossom Place.”
That was a nice touch, and it all made perfect sense. Spence wasn’t surprised. Neither Nick nor Callie was given to doing anything halfway. Once they made a decision, it was all or nothing. Maybe he should do the same. He stared at the napkin spread out on the table as pictures from his past superimposed themselves over the rough sketch.
He thought of his parents and wished they were there to offer their advice. Or maybe he wanted their blessing for what he was about to do. That wasn’t going to happen, but there was one thing he knew with great certainty. When they chose him to be their son, they wanted to give him the best life they could. They would want him to be happy, even if it meant walking away from the house they’d once filled with love and laughter.
A Reason to Love Page 20