“Do you like to cook?” Audra stirred a small pot and tapped the spoon’s drippings back into it.
“Cook?” Cindy straightened her back. “To be truthful, I can’t cook for beans. When I offered to help, I meant something like peeling carrots or potatoes, or taking out the trash. Those things I can handle. I probably should have learned how to cook, but while my mom and sister were in the kitchen, I was out climbing trees, playing stick ball, or having sword fights with sawed-off mop handles and garbage can covers with the boys in the street.”
Audra froze in place, her brows pinched in a quizzical knot while a drip grew on the edge of the spoon. “Garbage can cover?”
“For shields. The metal ones are the best, of course, but they can be hard to find.” Cindy broke into a laugh. “I see by your expression you’ve never participated in a good sword fight.”
A few blinks seemed to unlock Audra’s statuesque pose. “No, can’t say I’ve ever done that nor played stick ball. In fact, I’m not even sure what stick ball is.”
Marlene cupped her hand under Audra’s spoon just in time to catch the drip. “I used to watch my brother and his friends play stick ball when I was a child in Brooklyn. They used a mop or broomstick for a bat, and a hollow rubber ball about the size of a hardball—red, if I remember correctly. Parked cars served as first and third bases, and they’d draw chalk squares for home and second bases.”
Cindy nodded. “That’s stick ball all right. Uh-oh,” she craned her neck, “something’s about to boil over on the back burner.”
A pot cover chattered and danced around the rim of a pot. Marlene rushed to it, lifted the lid, and stirred. “Good, the potatoes aren’t scorched.”
Audra busied herself at a cutting board, and Marlene basted a roast in the oven. Heavenly aromas filled the kitchen.
“Hi.” Dexter entered and sat on the stool to Cindy’s left. He leaned in and spoke with a low voice. “What do you say we slip out of the house after dinner, maybe go into town and catch a movie or something?”
She cast a glance to where Benjamin, Hank, and Edward sat talking in the living room. Hank flicked a small smile that vanished when his eyes shifted to Dexter’s back. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. After all, I came to visit with my brother and his family. It wouldn’t be very nice to skip out on them.”
Dex gave a slow nod. “You’re right. I suppose it would be rather tacky.” He set a foot on a rung of her stool. “Maybe we could get together next time I have a few days off. Would it be okay if I called you sometime?”
“Call me?” A tease of his cologne circled her head as if attempting to soften her up. “I didn’t give you my number.”
“You didn’t have to. I caught it when you gave it to LT over lunch yesterday.”
“Oh.” She wiped clammy palms on her pants. Had someone cranked the air conditioning up to ninety-five all of a sudden? “Dex, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I’m not sure calling me is such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Couldn’t he take a polite, albeit indirect no and be satisfied with that? “I just got out of a bad relationship, and I’m not terribly interested in jumping into another one right now.”
“Then we have something in common. Only, I thought I was in an exceptionally good relationship—one that would last forever—until she dumped me for a fireman the day before yesterday.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Dexter’s pinky brushed hers on the counter. “What happened with yours? Did he cheat on you?”
She jerked her hand to her lap and slumped against the seatback. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
The stool on Cindy’s other side scraped against the tile floor. Hank sat with one leg still stretched in a standing position, leaned a forearm on the bar, and fired an ocular shot at Dexter from across Cindy’s bow. Whatever the reason for Hank’s abrupt appearance, it eased the tension of the moment.
Audra tossed Cindy a pinched-smile of suppressed amusement over her shoulder that neither man seemed to notice. With a slight turn, she clawed the air and mouthed a roar. The lions were at it again.
Cindy pressed her lips together and managed not to laugh.
* * * *
Hank raised his head and looked at the clock as it chimed from a bookshelf across the room.
His father laced his fingers and pressed his palms out with a soft groan. “Ten o’clock. I think I’ll hit the hay.” He stood. “Come on, Marley, time for bed. You’ve been drifting off on us for the last half hour.”
As his mother rose, Hank, Edward, and Dexter made moves to rise as well. She patted the air. “Please, don’t get up.” With a loud smack, she kissed her fingers and broadcast it across them. “Good night all.”
The room echoed with good-nights and Hank’s parents ambled toward their bedroom.
Cricket hopped onto the love seat in the narrow space between Hank and Cindy, made two complete turns, and collapsed with her tail strewn across Hank’s legs, and upper half resting on Cindy’s lap. Hank gave Cricket’s tail a gentle tug. “Traitor.”
Cindy hugged the dog’s neck and kissed her head. “Guess she likes me best tonight.” She stuck the tip of her tongue out at Hank and laughed.
“Humph.” Hank turned his mock-smirk into a small smile. Cricket had it made. Without so much as a hint of an invitation, she’d weaseled her way into Cindy’s personal space and got a kiss, a hug, and a royal petting to boot. If he could lie across Cindy’s lap and get his neck and shoulders rubbed, he’d consider himself one lucky dog too.
“So, Audra, what kind of work do you do?” Cindy asked as she combed her fingers against the grain through Cricket’s fur with massaging motions.
“I taught Spanish on the junior high level last school year here in New York. After we got married and I moved to North Carolina with Edward, he suggested I stay home and not work for our first year together.” Audra snuggled against Edward’s arm. “I love being able to volunteer at the local veterans’ family center, reach out to other young army wives, and help create a sense of community for them.”
“I’ve always wished I could speak something other than English.” Cindy ran her fingers up to the end of Cricket’s floppy ear.
Audra smiled. “I come from an Italian family, and I loved when we spoke the language at home. It was easy to learn Spanish in college since the two languages are very similar.”
Hank took a swig of ice water that sat on the end table. “So, do you and Eddie speak to each other in Spanish?”
Audra laughed. “No, Edward can’t, I mean, he never—” She pulled away from Edward and eyed him square in the face. “You speak Spanish?”
“Sí, hablo español.”
“But you—”
“Guess it never came up in conversation.” Edward lifted his shoulders in a shallow shrug.
“He’s also fluent in Farsi,” Hank added. “Bet you didn’t know that either.”
“No, I didn’t.” Audra’s eyes shined with unmistakable pride. “What about you guys?” She looked at Hank, then Dexter. “Do you speak several languages as well?”
Dex nodded and aimed his response at Cindy. “Spanish, Farsi, and French.”
Hank got up, switched his glass from one hand to the other, and flicked condensation at Dex. “Yeah, well I speak Spanish, Farsi, and pig Latin.” He gave a little laugh. “Come on, Cricket, let’s go outside for a few minutes before we go home.”
Cricket bolted through the patio door as soon as Hank cracked it open.
He turned off the outside lights and sauntered out to the water’s edge in the dark. The waning summer’s breeze carried a thread of crispness and brushed his skin with the promise of autumn before flitting off toward the woods and rustling through the treetops. A firefly flashed in front of him and disappeared into the night.
Click. Hank cocked his good ear toward the house. Patio door?
Footfalls started his way. He
closed his eyes. Short, quick steps. Flip-flops. No doubt, a woman. Warmth filled his chest. He waited until the aura of her presence touched his back. “Hi, Cindy.”
“How’d you know it was me?”
He smiled. “When you’re not dashing off cliffs, tripping over limbs, or stumbling into me, you have a distinctly feminine walk.”
Cindy gave a breathy laugh. “How’d you know it wasn’t Audra?”
Hank faced her and widened his stance. “Because she has no reason to want to be out here with me.”
“You think I came out here just to be with you?”
“If that’s not the case, why are you here?”
“I—” She swatted a strand of hair from her face. “I came out here to, to, you know, look around, get some fresh air, and maybe throw a stick for Cricket or—”
“In the dark?” He inched closer.
Her tongue darted across her lips. “Hank, I, m-maybe I better go inside.” She started to turn.
“Wait.” He touched her arm. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable just now. To tell the truth, I was hoping you’d come out, because there’s something I’d like to show you.”
Her shoulders relaxed from their slightly elevated position. “What is it?”
“Follow me.” Hank led the way to the end of the pier, lowered himself to sit on the planking, and patted the spot beside him.
“There’s a peaceful calm out here, isn’t there?” Cindy sat and wrapped her arms around her knees. “It looks like the water is sprinkled with stars.”
Hank lay on his back, face toward the sky. “Lie next to me and close your eyes for a few minutes. And don’t worry, I’m not trying to get kinky with you.”
Cindy crawled next to him on hands and knees. “Shove over, big guy, or I’ll hang off the edge on my side.”
“Eyes closed?” Hank asked as Cindy’s shoulder slid into place next to his.
“Yes.”
“Good. Keep them that way.”
She giggled. “For how long?”
“A few minutes.”
“Okay.” Cindy reached across and squeezed his arm in a few places.
“What was that for?” He smiled without opening his eyes.
“Your arm is so solid, I feel like I’m butted up against a landscaping timber. Do you lift weights?”
He laughed. “I’m a climber, so I’m always hoisting my own weight up and down the side of rocks. It’s an allover workout, and the views are much nicer than looking at a bunch of stinky, sweaty guys at the gym. You still got your eyes closed?”
“Yeah.”
Hank took a stealthy look at her profile before turning his attention to the sky. A thin streak of light crossed overhead. Then another, and another. He gave Cindy a good nudge. “Open your eyes.”
“Oh my goodness. A meteor shower!”
Hank propped himself on his elbows and looked down at her.
Mouth agape, eyes wide, she couldn’t look more excited. She jabbed a finger heavenward. “Did you see that, Hank? There must have been ten of ’em shooting across the sky all at once.”
He looked up. “It’s supposed to last about two hours.”
“How did you know about it?”
Hank settled back down on the planks. “I have an app on my phone that sends me alerts for this sort of stuff. So far, it’s been very accurate.”
“Hank?”
He rolled his head toward her. “What?”
“Thanks. This is awesome.”
“Beats going into town to a movie, doesn’t it?”
Cindy laughed. “How did you know Dex asked me to go to the movies? You couldn’t have possibly overheard from the living room.”
“I figured he was asking you out, but Audra overheard the part about the movies and told me about it afterward.” Hank looked up at the stars. “Do you know how to find Polaris?”
“Polaris? What’s that?”
“The North Star.”
“No. Where is it?”
Hank pointed. “See the Big Dipper?”
Cindy moved her head close to his and followed his directions. “Yeah.”
“The last two stars in the cup are Merak and Dubhe. If you start at Merak, draw a line through Dubhe and extend it about five times the distance between them...”
* * * *
“It’s awfully quiet in here. Everyone must be asleep.” Hank closed and locked the patio door and shot a thumb toward the kitchen wall clock. “Almost midnight. I better hit the road.”
From the base of the stairs, Cindy looked up at him with a soft smile. “Thanks for the star show. It was, what’s the word I’m looking for?” She cast her eyes up and to the side for a moment. “Stunning. That’s it. It was stunning.”
“Laying out under the stars is one of my favorite pastimes. It never gets old.”
“One of your favorite pastimes? Name one other.”
“That’s easy. Campfires. I love everything about them from gathering logs and tinder, to watching the blaze lick every ounce of life out of the wood until all that’s left is a pile of glowing embers.”
Cindy smiled a little bigger. “One of these days, I’d like to go camping.”
“Then, one of these days, I’ll make it happen.” He gave her hair two small yanks. “Good night, Cindy.”
“’Night.” She bounced up the stairs, turned and waved, and went into her room.
Cricket slipped her head under Hank’s hand and bobbed her chin a few times. Pet me.
Hank stretched out on the couch and stroked Cricket’s fur as she sat on the floor beside him, leaning on the cushion. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll take you home.”
* * * *
“Hank. Hank, wake up.”
The voice came from another time. Dimension. Universe. Strong hands shook Hank’s shoulders with a force that jolted his neck.
Fire.
Burning rubber.
The last cries of a dying man.
No, please, God, don’t let them die.
“Hank, come on buddy, snap out of it.”
Hank’s eyes fluttered. Someone loomed over him. Bobby? He bolted to a sitting position and grabbed the man’s head with both hands. “Bobby? Bobby Dean? You’re alive?”
A sob broke from his chest and boomed from his throat. A blink brought Edward’s face into focus.
“It’s a dream, Hank. That’s all it is. Let it go.”
Hank withdrew trembling hands from his brother’s face. A chill swept the skin under his wet shirt and sent a shiver up his torso. Cold. So very cold. Another sob escaped.
Edward wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tight. “Everything’s okay, bro.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Bobby would be alive right now if I hadn’t begged to drive the truck that day. I should have been the one who—”
“Don’t go there, Hank.” Edward squeezed tighter and planted a hard kiss on Hank’s temple. “Don’t you dare go there.”
Chapter 9
Hank left the engine running outside his parent’s house and sat in the Jeep with the seat reclined. He pinched the bridge of his nose. More sleep. That’s what he needed. If he’d taken Edward’s advice and spent the night here instead of going home at three in the morning, he might have gotten a few more precious hours of shut-eye.
Cricket whined in the back seat.
He reached over his shoulder and tapped the open window frame. “Go on, girl. Have a ball.”
She jumped out and headed for the water.
Hank roared a wide-mouthed yawn and made a mental addition to today’s agenda—church, lunch, and a nap.
The passenger door opened and Edward slipped into the seat beside him. Hank clicked his seat to an upright position. “Hey, Eddie. What’s up?”
“I was waiting for you to get here so I’d have a few minutes to talk with you alone.”
“About last night?” As if he didn’t know. Hank rubbed the back of his neck. “You didn’t tell anyone about it, did you?”
“Of course not.” Edward’s penetrating stare gave a sure sign of a pending interrogation. “How long have you been having those dreams?”
“It doesn’t matter. They’re just—”
“It matters to me.” Edward clutched his arm with a steel-fingered grip. “How long?”
“A couple of weeks. I don’t know what triggered them. It’s been a year and a half since the—” Hank huffed a breath. “I was going to say accident, but there was nothing accidental about it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. But you’re not going to let it go, are you?” He looked at Edward’s hand. “Mind retracting your talons from my arm first?”
“Sorry.” Edward’s expression softened. “You know it wasn’t your fault about Bobby and the other men, don’t you? Convoys had been traveling that road for weeks without incident. What happened was a random act of violence by a couple of crazies who happened to get their hands on some serious weaponry.”
“I know all that—when I’m awake. Seems my unconscious mind has a little problem accepting it lately. I’m okay, little brother. Really. It was just a bad dream, nothing more.” Hank put on the happy-go-luckiest expression he could muster, gave Edward’s leg a slap, and smiled. “What’s for breakfast? I’m starved.”
* * * *
“That was an excellent lunch, Mrs. Shultz. Best beef stew I ever had.” Cindy dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know how you make the meat so tender.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s one of Hank’s favorites. According to him, I make the best stew on the planet.” Marlene laughed. “Whether that’s true or not, it always earns me a big kiss right here.” She tapped her cheek.
“A well-earned kiss, for sure.” Cindy smiled across the table at Hank. He responded with a nod, shoveled another heaping spoonful of stew into his mouth and garbled something undecipherable.
Marlene pushed back from the table. “You know what, Audra? I never did serve that cake I made on Friday. I swear if my head wasn’t screwed on I’d forget all about that too.”
More Than a Soldier Page 7