by Audrey Bell
I thumbed through a wedding issue for a reality star. “God, this magazine is ancient,” I said. “These people are divorced now.”
“It’s newer than you’d think,” Jack said, checking the cover. “Yeah. Four months old.”
“Seriously? Four months? They were married for four months?”
He smiled.
“You know, you can probably go,” I offered.
“I want to see what happens to the bookstore,” Jack insisted. “I think Meg Ryan is going to sue Tom Hanks or else kill him.”
“It’s a romantic comedy, not Law & Order.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “Well, they better have paused it. Because I bet anything that Meg Ryan ends up killing Tom Hanks. Down with capitalism and all that. Occupy Wall Street. Occupy Fox Books. Or maybe it’ll turn out to be some kind of Madoff thing.”
“A book Ponzi scheme? That’s not possible.”
Jack smiled at me. “No, but it could definitely be the plot of the movie.” He looked over his shoulder at Justin’s hospital room. “Do you think I should go ask them to pause it?”
“I don’t think you want to disturb them,” I said. “They’re probably making out.”
“Well, I should definitely disturb them. Justin shouldn’t take advantage of David. He’s highly medicated and I think I also got him drunk. Plus, I want to see the end of the movie.”
I rolled my eyes and he kissed me suddenly.
“What was that for?”
“I like you,” he said, grinning.
I grinned. I bit my thumbnail, tried not to blush, and focused on the hideous bridesmaids’ dresses. I like you too. I didn’t say it, because then I would have exploded with embarrassment. But I’m pretty sure he knew that anyways.
“Thank you for…knowing what to do,” I said.
“Oh, come on, surely you went to the seminar on 911 in Kindergarten,” he said. “Even I didn’t skip that class.”
“You know what I mean.”
He leaned his head against mine. “You still don’t want to date me, huh?”
I was quiet. “I just want to be like this.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “We can be like this. What do you want to call it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Life.”
“We’re lifing?”
“Or, you know, living.”
He cocked his head like he was thinking about it. “Right. Let’s pretend I never said that.”
I nodded. “Deal.”
Justin brought David home from the hospital late that night.
“Hey,” I said, when Justin opened the door.
“You know I can walk, right?” David asked dryly. Justin had his arm tight around David’s shoulders, like he could hardly support his own legs. David grinned at him briefly.
“Get over here,” David said to me. He wrapped me in a tight hug.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Hey. It’s not your fault. He’s a bastard,” David continued. “And I should have listened to you.”
“Oh, David, I don’t care—”
“No, I should have listened to you.”
“He’s going to press charges,” Justin added.
“Good,” I said fiercely.
David smiled weakly.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course,” David said. He smiled bravely. “I knew Jack was good to have around. I’m glad you’re back together.”
“We never were together,” I said. “But we’re back on. Whatever that means.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, Hadley.”
“What?”
“You like him,” David said.
“Shut up.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
My mother sent me a beautiful dress and a pair of shoes that would only make sense to wear to a ball for Jack’s formal.
The dress was light blue, with a white silk tie at the waist. It fell just above my knee.
“I’m nervous,” I told Jack when I got into his car.
He blinked.
“Is there anything I need to know?” I asked.
He blinked again.
I waved my hand in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Jack.”
“You look really, really pretty,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said. “What do I need to know?”
He laughed. “Mom is Julie, brother is Alex.” He cocked his head. “Riley’s coming. You can call him…”
“Professor?”
He smiled. “Sure.” He looked me over again.
“What?”
“You look really goddamn pretty,” he said. He smiled and drove to the frat house. “I told them you were my girlfriend, by the way. I didn’t think you’d want me explaining the details to my mother and Riley.”
We walked from the car to the fraternity house. I leaned against him slightly in the cold and he laughed as we reached the door. “You’re not going to recognize it.”
He was right. I didn’t recognize it.
The floors sparkled, the music was playing at a pleasant volume, and people were drinking from real glasses.
“We rented the glasses,” Jack said, looking at the expression on my face.
“Ah,” I said.
Riley looked out of place, in a tweed jacket, leaning against a wall and chatting with a pretty dark-haired woman who smiled just like Jack.
I swallowed nervously.
“Say hi, get a glass of wine, repeat. All night,” Jack whispered as we approached them. “It’s like a game.”
“You must be Hadley,” his mother said, turning. She offered a hand. “I’m Julie Diamond. It is so nice to meet you.”
“And this is Alex,” Jack said.
Alex shook my hand. “So, you’re the girl my brother flew us out here to meet.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Alex chuckled knowingly.
“Alex, shut up,” Jack said.
“Do you know Robert Riley?” his mother asked.
“I do, actually,” I said and smiled. “I’m in his combat journalism class.”
Riley nodded and gave me a friendly smile. “I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you on Monday.”
I grinned. “I’m used to that.”
“We’re going to get wine,” Jack said. “I promised her there would be wine.”
I followed him. “Am I doing that badly?” I asked.
He laughed. “No. I just can tell they’re kind of salivating that I seem to have a girlfriend.” He smiled. “I don’t want them to get the idea that I’m some kind of responsible and mature adult.”
I nodded. “Ah.”
He grabbed two glasses. “Thanks for doing this. My mom’s been dying to come to one and…anyways, I appreciate it.”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
“Does Riley know you’re going to Syria?” he asked.
I nodded.
He took a sip of his wine.
“He put me in touch with the editor actually,” I said.
Jack stopped lifting the glass to his lips. “What?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Christ,” Jack said. He looked over at Riley. It clearly bothered him. He took a long sip of the wine and whistled. “Wow.”
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “I need to find Xander. Figure out where we’re supposed to sit.”
I watched him go, confused, and sipped my wine slowly, wondering how long he'd be. I'd finished half my glass before I gave up waiting and went back over to his brother and mother, who he'd neglected in a corner.
“Where’s Jack?”
“He went to go find Xander, I think,” I said.
“Oh,” she nodded and smiled.
"So, you're a doctor, right?" I asked Alex.
"I am."
I nodded. "How did you like medical school?"
He smiled. "Better than the Naval Academy." He chuckled. "No, I liked it."
Jack wandered back, with a goofy s
mile. "Hey. Sorry."
He looked drunk.
I smiled awkwardly.
"Where's Riley?"
"Getting a drink."
Jack nodded.
"So, how'd you two meet?" Alex asked.
"It's a really good story, actual—” Jack started.
“We met at a tailgate," I interrupted, blushing preemptively.
"Right," Jack said.
Alex smiled at Jack and then at me. “You had no idea what you were getting into, huh?”
"None," Jack said. "Oh. Were you talking to her? Trust me. She's crazier than she looks."
Alex smiled. "Okay, then."
Jack started to say something else. Xander, however, rapped his fork against a glass to make an announcement. "Everyone, thanks for coming. I've been told dinner is ready so if you'd make your way to your tables, that would be great."
"We're table thirteen," Jack said. "Which is appropriate. Terrible luck.”
"I'll tell Bobby," Alex said.
We found our table and I whispered in Jack's ear. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm great," he said, pulling out my chair. "Why wouldn't I be?"
“Nothing,” I said.
“So, Hadley, how do you feel about Jack not having a job?” Alex asked.
“Lay off,” Jack said.
Alex laughed. “Oh, come on. I’ve been in Afghanistan. I’m allowed to give you a hard time.”
Julie cleared her throat and peered at me. “You’re one of Bob’s students?”
“Yes, I am.”
“So, you’re interested in journalism?”
I nodded.
"Jack's father was a journalist."
I found that shocking. I looked at Jack. "I didn't know that."
"You didn't tell her?" his mother asked.
Jack was watching his mother. He smiled at her regretfully. He rubbed his chin and said softly. "C'mon, Mom."
Julie looked at me and then at Jack. "What paper did he write for?" I asked.
"New York Times," Alex answered.
"That's where I’m working next year," I said. I looked at Jack, genuinely shocked.
Jack cleared his throat. "Anyways, they just did a Valentine's Day issue for the university paper."
"I saw that," Riley said.
Jack grinned. "Yeah. Hadley almost had a heart attack over it. What did you think?"
"Gimmicky."
I smiled. I would've agreed, if I hadn't been thinking about Jack's father. I was mystified. How could he not mention that to a girl obsessed with working at The New York Times?
"What are you interested in covering?" Alex asked me. He looked quite serious.
Jack exhaled heavily. "Come on, Alex. Leave her alone.”
"I'm going to be working with their Middle Eastern conflict team," I said. I reached for my wine and swirled it. "They said I would probably be based in Syria at first.”
"Are you kidding?" Alex asked aggressively. “Jack, are you serious?”
“Are you talking to me or Jack?" I asked. I cleared my throat. "Am I missing something here? I’m not kidding about anything.”
Jack studied his water glass like it was the world’s most fascinating object. Julie watched me, and I glanced at her briefly before looking away. Her eyes were the same color as Jack's and contained the same edge of loss Jack’s sometimes held.
“Syria?” Julie asked, her voice straining. “What do your parents think about that?”
Jack made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "Mom. Let her be.”
"It's fine," I said. "They're not thrilled, but they get it." I shrugged. "I speak Arabic. It’s what I want to do.”
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" Alex asked.
I cocked my head. "Aren't you a trauma surgeon in Afghanistan?" I asked.
"It's different. I don't have an angle."
"Alex, for Christ's sake," Jack said. "Would you please drop it?"
I shrugged. “I think it’s important to show what’s happening. Journalism is about telling the truth, and people here can help. They can’t help if they don’t know about what’s going on. But if they know, they can help.”
I met Professor Riley’s eyes and he nodded subtly at me, but didn’t chime in.
"If you want to help, you should enlist,” Alex said.
“Don’t tell my girlfriend to enlist,” Jack said angrily.
I wasn't sure who to argue with, Jack or Alex.
“Why not? She’d be safer in the army as she’d be in a Jeep with a bunch of cameramen,” Alex said.
“Well, it’s not your concern,” Jack snapped.
“If you care about her, it’s my concern,” Alex responded. “Riley can tell you how dangerous it is.”
“Sure,” Riley said calmly. “But she knows.”
“You don’t really know,” Alex said to me. “You have no idea. How could you know?”
“Lay off,” Jack snapped. "It doesn't affect you."
Alex turned and looked at Jack. “It does affect me. The last time someone you loved got killed taking pictures in the Middle East, I was the one picking up what was left of you. In case you forgot, you didn't take it too well."
Jack pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “Yeah? Well, fuck you, Alex.”
I moved to get to my feet, as several of the other families whipped their heads around to see, but Professor Riley beat me to it, grabbing Jack by the upper arm. He tugged him once, gently.
"Jack, come on," Riley said, gruffly. "Let's go for a walk." He shoved him gently towards the door and Jack turned, fists clenched, shoulders up by his elbows. But he walked with Riley. Alex exhaled in his seat.
"Alex, you shouldn't antagonize him," Julie said.
"I wasn't."
Julie sighed heavily. "You—”
“I need the restroom,” Alex said brusquely, stalking off in the opposite direction, leaving me alone with his mother.
I sipped my water, just so I'd have something to do with my hands which were shaking.
"I'm sorry," I said, when there was nothing left but ice in my glass and I had to confront the fact that I had somehow ruined the first family dinner they'd had in a while. And that something terrible had happened to Jack’s father. I felt things shifting into place.
She smiled and shook her head. "They've always been like this." She smiled. "They love each other, and they don't know how to say so, so they fight."
I nodded. “I’m sorry thought. I…”
"It's not your fault," she added.
I looked out the window. Jack had walked outside with Riley. He was far enough away from the windows to not realize I could see him. But I saw him. He sat down on the steps, resting his elbows on his knees. The idiot wasn’t wearing a coat over his blazer, and he'd turned his head to look up at the stars.
I watched him shiver—from the cold or maybe the argument.
Riley stood a few feet behind him, talking quietly. Jack nodded occasionally and smiled sadly once. His shoulders were slumped, awkwardly broken. He needed a coat. He had to have a coat if he was going to sit out there.
I looked at Julie. “Would you excuse me?” I said. I got up from the table and walked upstairs to Jack’s room. His sketchbook was thrown open on his desk, the one he was always doodling in, but he never showed me.
He had been drawn me, in the passenger’s seat of his car. One leg up on the dashboard, my head turned away from him. My face shaded lightly with pencil. I put my fingertips on the page and felt tears brim behind my eyes. I swallowed hard and took his coat from the back of the desk chair, and hurried down the stairs with it.
I walked outside.
I'd never heard Riley's voice sound so gentle.
“…Alex is dealing with a lot right now. He’s not the same kid who left for war. Nobody is—”
“Hey,” I said loudly so that they would know I was there. I stood uncomfortably, wavering, not wanting to intervene, and not wanting to go. “I, um, thought you might want a coat.”
Jack looked at me and didn’t say anything. I walked to the steps and draped it over his shoulders. He pulled it closer. “Thanks.”
I sat down next to him.
"You'll ruin your dress," he warned.
"I don't care."
Riley smiled. "You'll be okay?" He nodded at the door, like he was thinking of going in.
“She doesn't bite,” Jack said. He blew on his hands and turned his head, watching Riley go. I didn't say anything. He pulled a flask from his front pocket and took a sip.
“Should we talk?” I asked.
"About?"
"That." I nodded inside. "Alex. Your Dad."
“It's a long story," he said.
"I'm good at long stories."
He shook his head. “I know." He smiled and looked over at me. He took another sip from the flask and offered it to me. "But I'm not."
I took a small sip. It burned my throat. I handed it back to him.
He cleared his throat. “My dad was a war correspondent.” He bit his lip. “He loved it." He shrugged.
The shiver that went down my spine felt like ice.
He took a sharp breath. "And then he died."
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Yeah," he nodded. "He went to Afghanistan. Right after 9/11, when we just had gone to war. My mom begged him not to. He told her he’d be fine." He looked up at the stars again. "They took him hostage. The Taliban." He shrugged. He took a sip from his flask. “We never got the body back.” He breathed shortly and exhaled. “They cut him into pieces and put it on terrorist YouTube or whatever the fuck they call it.”
"Oh, Jack," I breathed. I couldn't imagine. I couldn't imagine any of it, but I didn't have to imagine Jack's pain, because there wasn't any way for him to hide it.
I could almost feel the tension of it beneath his skin.
My breath swirled in white clouds in front of my mouth. Everything made sense. “Jesus,” I squeezed my eyes shut. “God, Jack. Why didn't you say something?"
“I didn’t know how to. And you weren’t going to Syria until a week ago. For a long time you were going to be a journalist. I mean, honestly, by the time I figured out you were applying for a job in Syria, I was so far in over my head with you…” he took a breath and his voice trailed off. “This is just like me.”
“What?”