by Anthology
Tyson chuckled. “Sorry. I’m a peaceful guy at heart.”
“Do me a favor. Send Evan next time.”
“You got it.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Chas knew there was more Tyson wanted to say, so he waited for it. He’d hurt the man’s cousin. As uncomfortable as this was, he owed it to him to hear him out.
“I’ve called you a few times for happy hour. You’ve never come. Why not?”
Chas frowned, surprised by the change of subject. “I’ve been busy.” Tyson gave him a knowing grin and Chas rolled his eyes. “I’m not discussing my sex life with Sydney.”
Tyson laughed. “I appreciate that. Otherwise, I would have to kick your ass. She’s working tomorrow night.”
Chas shrugged lightly. “Okay. Thanks for the update.”
“So come to happy hour with me and the guys.”
Chas shook his head quickly. “No, I—”
Tyson blew out an exasperated breath. “We were really good friends before you left, Chas. I’d sort of like to get back to that.”
Chas wanted it too. More than he cared to admit. But something he couldn’t quite define was holding him back. Maybe it was the former camaraderie? He hadn’t been able to form any real male friendships since Jeremy and Scott died.
“I’ll get back to you about it,” Chas said at last, hoping Tyson would let him off the hook.
Tyson, mercifully, didn’t press the issue. “Okay. But if you bail, I’m going to invite you the next time. And the time after that. And the time—”
Chas raised his hand to cut him off. “I think I got the pattern.”
“Good.” Tyson stood and Chas resisted the urge to release a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings, but he was struggling to hold his shit together. His head hurt, his chest ached and it was taking all his strength to keep his hands from shaking. He needed a drink.
He rose and took the hand Tyson proffered for a shake. “Stop beating yourself up, man.”
It was on the tip of Chas’ tongue to say he wasn’t the one who’d been beaten, but he held it in. He appreciated Tyson’s visit, understood that he was trying to help. Hell, for all Chas knew, maybe Sydney had sent him.
He got all of that, but none of it changed what had happened. Or how he felt about it.
Tyson walked back to his car and pulled away. Chas stood on the porch for a few minutes more before walking inside and pouring himself a bourbon.
***
Nearly a week after he’d sent Sydney out of his place, her cheek red from his blow, Chas returned home from two hours at the gym to find Julian sitting on the front porch swing.
Despite the shower he’d taken in the locker room, he was still overheated and every muscle in his body ached. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize, but Julian’s determined look told Chas he wasn’t being given an option.
Chas climbed the three stairs on the porch, then leaned against the railing. “You didn’t tell me you were coming by tonight.”
“Yeah. I know. Figured the element of surprise would work in my favor.”
Chas frowned. “We’re together all day everyday, Julian. This wasn’t something you could say at work?”
“Nope.”
Chas’ chest constricted. He’d been waiting for this talk. Maris wasn’t that big a town. It was bound to get back to his uncle that he’d hit Sydney. He’d actually expected this conversation to happen much sooner.
“You over it yet?” Julian asked.
Chas shook his head, not bothering to ask for an explanation.
“Well, get over it. I’ve had enough.”
This wasn’t the conversation Chas had been expecting. He’d thought his uncle would call him to task, give him hell for hitting a woman. “What are you talking about?”
“I know you, Chas. I changed your dirty diapers, taught you how to drive, gave you the damn sex talk. I can tell when something is wrong. I’ve been patient, but it’s time for you to stop burying your head in the sand, pretending nothing’s bothering you when I know the truth.”
Chas fought to get some air in his lungs. Then he opened his mouth and said the three hardest words he’d ever spoken. “I hit Sydney.”
“I know you did and I know it was an accident.”
“God!” Chas yelled. “You sound like her and Tyson. Do you really think that matters?”
“Yes. I do.”
Chas turned his back to Julian. “Well, I don’t.”
“Who did you think you were hitting?”
Chas closed his eyes, wished his uncle would leave him alone. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He’d gone to the gym hoping to work himself into an exhaustion that would let him sleep. He was so fucking tired, but he couldn’t seem to fall asleep anymore.
“Chas,” Julian pressed. His uncle wasn’t going to let this go.
Tyson had asked him the same question. The problem was, Chas didn’t know who he was hitting. Some faceless enemy. The only faces he could see when he closed his eyes were those of the victims. The red mark on Sydney’s face, the blood on Scott’s chest, and Jeremy facedown in the middle of the road. “I don’t know. I never see a face. I just feel the danger.”
“How long has it been going on? And don’t say it just started. I won’t fall for that bullshit.”
Chas swallowed heavily. “Since they died.”
“Your friends? Jeremy and Scott?”
Chas nodded. “I came home right after. I thought I’d managed to put it behind me and move on. And for a while, I had.”
“What happened?”
The little girl escaping her mother’s grasp had happened. From that point on, Chas had felt trapped in a never-ending free fall. However, he’d found ways to compensate, to overcome the panic attacks, the bad dreams. He was a Marine. He wouldn’t accept weakness. It was his duty to prevail.
The silence between them stretched too long.
“How much do you remember about living with your mom?” Julian asked.
Chas was so startled by the abrupt change of subject, he turned, facing his uncle once more. “None of it.”
“Really?” Julian said, more to himself than as an actual question. “I always wondered. Worried.”
“Worried?”
“You never asked about her, Chas. Not once. I thought you must’ve remembered what it was like with her.”
Chas hadn’t wanted to know about his mother. As far as Chas was concerned, Gran and Julian were his parents. “I don’t remember anything.”
Julian nodded slowly. “I’m glad. And sad that you don’t have any memories of her. You know, your mom was the sweetest little girl who ever lived. Before the drugs changed that.”
Chas glanced away, part of him wanting to cut his uncle off, to tell him he didn’t want to hear any of this. But there was a larger part of him dying to know it all. It was that curiosity that made him stay on the porch.
“Jenny was a sweet girl. And she loved you, Chas. I really believe that.”
Chas resisted the urge to deny it. He’d never felt as though his mother cared about him. Not once. He’d painted her as the drug addict who gave birth to him, then pawned him off on someone else. He wasn’t sure why that picture was easier to accept than the idea that he had a mother who’d loved him.
“She got into drugs in high school, smoking pot. I knew she was doing it, but she assured me it wasn’t any worse than the beer I drank at the bar. When she got a job in Dallas, she fell in with a rougher crowd. I swear that girl was a bum magnet. If there was a sketchy, jobless, no-morals guy within five miles of her, she could sniff him out and start dating him.”
“Great. So I can assume one of those guys is my father?”
Julian grimaced. “Shit, Chas. I didn’t mean—”
Chas cut him off. “It’s okay. I’m not upset about that. Go on with your story.” Now that Julian had opened the vault, Chas wanted to know more.
“She started doing the harder stuff after sh
e left Maris. Coke, ecstasy. We didn’t realize it. Then, one day, she showed up here and asked Gran if she could move back in for a little while. Turned out she was pregnant.”
“She lived here when she was pregnant with me?” All Chas had heard was the story of Gran coming to pick him up in Dallas when he was three and bringing him home to live with her.
Julian nodded. “She told me she didn’t trust herself not to use drugs. Knew she wouldn’t touch them here in Maris, not with Gran around. She didn’t want you to be a crack baby. Said she couldn’t do that to you. That you deserved the best start to life she could give you.”
Chas swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.
“You were born here. And when you were six months old, Jenny took you to Dallas with her. She promised me she could handle things. She had her addictions under control. I believed her, Chas. I swear to God, I did. I watched her with you, saw the way she looked at you, and I honestly believed her love for you would pull her through, keep her clean.”
Chas glanced down and said the most painful words he’d ever uttered. “It didn’t.”
Julian shook his head. “Someone introduced her to heroin and that was it. Maybe her love didn’t save her, but it did save you.”
Chas scowled. “How? She left me.”
“No. She called your gran. Told her she was in trouble and asked her to come to Dallas. We didn’t know she was using again. Not until Jenny called. She was always very good at hiding her problem. So Gran drove to Dallas and found Jenny in a bad way. Your mother handed you to Gran and she asked her to take care of you until she could get off the stuff.”
“I guess we know how that ended.”
Julian shrugged. “Yeah. But I know she tried. And I know she did the best she could by you. Maybe her best wasn’t all that great, but…”
Julian’s voice faded. Chas realized this conversation couldn’t have been easy for his uncle. Chas had no memories of his mother—good or bad. Julian had them all. He felt the pain over the loss of a little sister he’d clearly adored, despite her flaws.
Then Chas considered the memories he did have. Of Gran kissing every boo-boo, baking every birthday cake, of packing him his favorite sandwich for lunch every day. And of Julian moving in to help Gran take care of him, teaching him how to fish and shoot and reading to him on nights when Gran worked the late shift at the hospital.
His mother had saved him. Had given him the best she’d had to offer.
“I’m glad you told me that.”
Julian looked at him, held his gaze. “Nobody’s perfect, Chas. We all just do the best we can. When we make mistakes, we admit them, learn from them, ask forgiveness and move on.”
Chas sensed the tide on the conversation was returning to the original subject. “I apologized to Sydney.”
“And she forgave you?”
Chas nodded. “It still isn’t enough.”
“That’s because you haven’t forgiven yourself. But it’s time to. It’s also time to stop using that accident as a smoke shield.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Julian leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “What do you know about post-traumatic stress?”
Chas laughed, no mirth in the sound. “God. Plenty. I heard all the lectures about it after Jeremy and Scott died, got the complete rundown.”
“Then you know the symptoms.
Chas faced his uncle. “I can handle it.”
Julian shook his head. “No, you can’t. Not alone.”
“I’ve got it under control.”
Julian rose, stood right in front of him. “Do you? Why is it so hard for you to ask for help?”
Chas’ temper flared. “Because I don’t want to forget them! Don’t want to move past it! They sure as fuck can’t. Jeremy and Scott…where’s their second chance?”
Julian didn’t speak for several moments, though he didn’t look away, didn’t give Chas the option of lowering his eyes or avoiding what he’d just said.
“Every year you pull away more and more, Chas. It’s like you’re purposely cutting yourself off from everyone.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. You had a bunch of friends in high school. Guys who are still here and who’d love to go out for a beer with you. I’ve run into Evan, who’s asked about you, who’s mentioned that you’ve never returned his calls. You and Tyson used to be really tight and I know he’s invited you out too. Why are you avoiding them?”
Chas shrugged. “I’ve been busy. Work, the gym, and—” He started to say Sydney, then stopped himself. Her absence in his life the past week had been felt profoundly. His gut had ached nonstop since he’d lost his temper, driven her away.
His uncle knew what he’d left out. “Sydney was the only exception. And it appears you’ve pushed her away as well.”
“I had to.”
“All I can figure is you feel some deep-seated guilt. Something that says you don’t deserve a life, that you can’t have friends or love because Jeremy and Scott can’t have it. That sound about right?”
Chas didn’t respond, wouldn’t allow himself to even blink. It was hard hearing his guilt laid bare before him.
“None of that is true. You weren’t to blame for your friends’ deaths. It’s time you stop thinking you were. It’s time to get some help, son.”
Chas shook his head, but Julian wouldn’t allow him to refuse. “I’m not taking no for an answer. You feel bad about what you did to Sydney?”
“You know I do,” Chas averred.
“Then prove it. Fix it so it doesn’t happen again. Pushing her away doesn’t make the nightmares stop. Given the dark circles under your eyes, I’d venture to say they’ve gotten worse without her in your bed. You’re a Marine, for God’s sake. It’s time to buckle up the boots and fight the enemy, son.”
Chas only knew how to fight foes with guns. In this, he was weaponless with no one to aim at. Even so, he knew his uncle was right.
“What do I do?”
“You go see that doctor friend of Tyson’s. You stop pushing the people you love away. You find Sydney, apologize again—even though those words will be for you, not her—and then you propose to the girl. She’s waited a hell of a long time for you.”
Chas chuckled. “According to her, she didn’t wait at all.”
“She’s a damn liar.”
At that, Chas’ laughed, hard. For the first time in a long time, he actually felt a spark of hope. And he owed so much to the man standing in front of him. “I’ve always known who my father is.”
Julian reared back, surprised. “You have?”
“You’re my dad. Always have been.”
Julian smiled, though Chas could see the sheen of tears in his uncle’s eyes. He’d never told Julian how much he loved him, how much he appreciated the sacrifices of a twenty-seven-year-old man, who’d given up his apartment and bachelor lifestyle to move back in with his mother to help raise a toddler. He owed Julian so much.
“I couldn’t love you more, Chas, if you’d been my real son. Now go do what you’ve always done. Make me proud.”
Julian’s belief that Chas could overcome his problems strengthened Chas’ resolve. “I will.”
Chapter Ten
Chas hung up the phone and sighed. It had taken him all day yesterday to find the courage to call Tyson to get the doctor’s number, and then most of this morning to work up the nerve to call the psychiatrist. Chas had done foot patrol in Afghanistan with less anxiety.
He’d spent years trying to suppress the memories he was now going to be expected to drag out and relive.
But he realized he’d been reliving them every moment since they happened. The doctor had spoken to him personally on the phone, gotten some basic information, then set up an appointment for the day after tomorrow.
Chas wasn’t as nervous about the visit now that he’d talked to the guy. He seemed pretty cool. Said he was a poker buddy of Tyson’s. Maybe this would
n’t be as hard as he feared.
Sydney had texted him earlier that morning. A very sweet, short message that said she missed him and wanted to see him.
He hadn’t responded. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to see her too, but he wondered if it would be better to wait until after he’d spoken with the psychiatrist.
He dismissed that idea. It was time he stop hiding from his problems, avoiding her.
He loved Sydney and he owed her his honesty, his stories. All of them.
He’d just picked up his cell to text her when voices drifted down from upstairs.
“Chas,” Gran called from the top of the basement stairs. “You have a visitor.” Since her return from Vegas, Gran had noticed his depression. And Sydney’s absence. He hadn’t known how to explain anything, so he’d brushed aside her concerns using tiredness as an excuse.
He walked upstairs, hoping Sydney was the visitor. As soon as he turned the corner, she was there, picnic basket in hand.
“I was hoping to drag you away for a late lunch,” she said with a sunny smile, as if the last time they’d seen each other hadn’t ended with her leaving in tears.
“I’d like that, Syd.” Though he didn’t want to, he forced himself to look at her cheek. Either the bruise had faded or she’d done a good job with her makeup because he couldn’t see anything.
“Great.”
Chas turned to his grandmother. “You going to be okay on your own for a little while?”
Gran narrowed her eyes. “I’ll be fine on my own all night. Stop hovering around me like I’m an old woman. Been living alone for the past dozen years or so and having a fine time doing it. I’m headed over to Sparks to meet a couple of the girls for a barbeque sandwich and then we thought we might go see a movie. I was actually worried about leaving you alone. Good thing Sydney showed up. Saves me finding a babysitter.”
Chas chuckled, then bent closer to kiss his grandmother on the cheek. She looked at him in surprise. He wasn’t usually very affectionate, but after talking to his uncle, he realized he’d let too many things go unsaid between him and the family that raised him. “Love you, Gran. Don’t stay out too late,” he teased.