by J. M. Madden
It wasn’t right, but he couldn’t fight the ache that being with these people created in his chest. For months now, he’d resigned himself to dying alone on his terms, when he wanted to and how he wanted to, where he wanted to. Being here gave him a glimpse of what he would be giving up by leaving the world. He glanced back at Marigold and fought not to stare at her mobile face laughing with Shannon about something.
Could he even remember being that enthusiastic about anything? Maybe about joining the Army years ago. And he’d been excited about nearing the end of his contract. Until it all went to hell.
Moving to an open table on the far side of the room, he sat with his back to the wall. A floating waiter crossed to him. “Can I get you a drink, sir?”
“Beer, whatever you have on draft, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Logan was glad the guy left without trying to ID him. That would have been more than he could handle right then. Usually the scars were enough to advance his age to the point that wait staff let him pass.
Baby face, my ass...
He glanced at Marigold. She’d drawn up a chair to sit with the women, and she was speaking in-depth to Shannon about something. The two of them were kind of lost in their own little world. The rest of the women talked around and over their heads, giving them a semblance of privacy.
It was awkward being here. Pulling his phone from his pocket he looked for his Uber app.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. John Palmer was rolling toward him. Logan set his phone on the table. He took John’s hand when it was offered.
“Logan, I’m glad you made it. I hope Marigold wasn’t as rude as she was earlier.”
Logan smiled. “Nah, she was fine.”
John leaned back in his chair. “I’m coming up with dead ends right now, buddy, I’ll be honest. Can you think of any other details that might help me narrow things down?”
Logan racked his brain, trying to come up with something. “I don’t know. I believe I told you everything I can think of that might narrow it down. I mean, I was little when we moved to Virginia. I have flashes of faces but nothing concrete. That was before pictures on cell phones, and stuff. I’m just going by little things my dad said. Or my mom whispered. They got into a fight once. I remember my mom wanted to send ‘them’ a card for Christmas. My bedroom was on the second floor, but when my parents fought, I could hear it through my register in the floor. Anyway, she wanted to send the card and he said absolutely not, that they didn’t deserve to know how we were doing.”
John frowned, leaning forward in his chair. “Did they fight like that a lot?”
The waiter arrived then with Logan’s glass of beer and a fresh bottle for John. Logan thanked the kid and took a swallow, needing the liquid in his throat. It was good beer. “They fought more than the average family I suppose. It wasn’t great. My dad had a substance abuse problem most of his life.”
“I’m sorry about that,” John said quietly, and Logan could tell that he meant it. “My mother did as well. I assume that was why she left me at a church when I was five.”
Logan winced and shook his head. “People can be fucked up,” he murmured.
“Agreed.” John reached out and clinked his beer bottle to Logan’s glass, and they both drank. “But I will say, people can only fuck you up as much as you let them. My brother and I are figuring that out. We have families now, and we’re building our lives in spite of what our mother taught us to fear.”
Logan looked down into his glass. He was very aware his childhood hadn’t been normal. His older sister Jana had done what she could to minimize the impact of their father’s issues on the family, but it hadn’t always been enough. Their mother had not been strong, but Jana had, so she’d taken up the slack. It had also painted a target on her back. Logan could remember the look on her face when their parents had come in, drunk off their asses, and Jana had failed to do a chore, or something. It had been terrifying. Jana had tried to take on the world for the three of them, little lion that she was, but she’d been too small herself. More than once they’d ended up in the emergency room, backing up a story that she’d fallen on the playground, or some other lame ass excuse his mother had come up with to explain away their father’s indiscretions.
Clint, their youngest brother, hadn’t helped matters. He’d looked up to Dad, in spite of all of the issues they’d had because of his substance abuse. Within just a few years he’d been out of school and out of control. By sixteen he’d pretty much moved out, running the streets as he wanted with no supervision. Logan knew that Jana had carried the weight of Clint’s decisions on her heart, like she always did, but he had made his own decisions. Now he had the criminal record to prove it.
Jana had encouraged Logan to join the military as soon as he turned eighteen. She’d tried to build up the bullshit about dad being in the military, but in the end, Logan had decided that the Vance military history would end with him in an honorable service record, not the discharge for contraband his father had brought. That had been why he’d joined, to try to make better what his father had ruined.
The Army had done him well and he didn’t regret a second of it. The service had given him something to live for, a structure he’d never had before. Though it had been a serious shock to the system at first, in the end he’d loved the life, and he’d excelled.
Logan thought of his father’s anger when he’d first joined up. It had been an epic fight. Jana was the only one that knew he’d been seeing the recruiter and taking the test, but even she hadn’t known when he was leaving. Logan made sure not to tell anyone until the day before, because he knew what the reaction would be.
His father had turned about ten shades of purple with anger, and his mother had immediately broken into tears.
“You’re going to call that recruiter and tell him you changed your mind, boy.”
Logan could remember the exchange like it was yesterday, though it had been years. He’d straightened, knowing what was coming. The anger on his father’s face had been monumental. “No, sir. I’m eighteen, now, and you’re done telling me what to do.”
The punch had spun him off his feet, but it lacked the force to actually put him on the ground. The old man had lost a lot of his strength as his body wasted away from the alcohol. He hadn’t been able to put them down for a long time.
Jana had been shocked, but secretly elated too. She’d been squirreling her money away for years, a few dollars here, a few more there, hidden very carefully beneath the carpet in her room. Logan knew she’d been staying in the house to protect him, but his joining the Army now allowed her to make her own break, because she didn’t have to protect him anymore.
Logan had already packed his bag in preparation of leaving, so when his father kicked him out of the house, he was ready. Hugging his sister and promising to be in touch, he’d walked out of the house. His mother had cried in the corner, but she hadn’t spoken up against his father. Logan had known she wouldn’t. She’d never protected her kids. She’d been a weeping, cooking decoration in the background for as long as he could remember, and she’d become insignificant to him.
Jana had met him later at a friend’s house, where they’d spent the night. For hours, they’d talked and reminisced, but only about the good things, and Logan had been so reluctant to leave her the next morning.
Jana had smiled that crooked smile of hers, her turquoise eyes shining with pride, and tapped his chin with a finger. “I’ll be fine, Army man. Go make us Vances proud. Do what Dad couldn’t.”
To this day he could hear the words in his mind and see the way the wind tossed her dark, dark hair, standing there on the porch. It had been the last time he’d seen his older sister alive.
“Can you look up old military records? My dad was medically discharged from the Army. Maybe you can find some info there?”
John looked out at the crowd thoughtfully. “I might have to call in a favor, but I think I can. Give me a d
ay or so to figure it out. In the meantime, enjoy yourself. The company is covering the tab. Most of us are Jarheads or Squids, but there might be the occasional Ground Pounder.”
Logan chuckled. He hadn’t heard that slang applied to the Army for a long time. “No Zoomies or Coasties?”
John looked outraged. “Seriously? We have standards at LNF.”
And he rolled away. Logan chuckled and knocked back his glass, swallowing the rest of the beer.
“You should smile like that more often.”
Logan looked up at Marigold, standing beside him. Man, her eyes were green... He shrugged, leaning back in the chair. “Palmer is pretty funny. I can appreciate his friendly fire.”
She made a face as she looked after the man. “Yeah, I guess, in his own sarcastic, fuck-you way, he’s all right.”
Logan shifted his crutches out of the way as she dropped down into the seat opposite him. “Has he found your family?”
“Not yet,” he said, running his thumb over the texture of the wood table. “The details I gave him are pretty sketchy.”
“How did you lose track of your family?” she asked, propping her chin on her hand on the table.
Logan regarded her. Marigold wasn’t being invasive, per se. He would be curious, as well, if he were in her position. “Not sure exactly. I think there was some falling out, but I can’t say for sure. For some reason we moved away from Colorado. We lived in Indiana and Ohio for a while, before finally settling in Virginia. My parents were not the most reliable.”
Marigold snorted. “Sounds like an understatement.”
“It is,” he admitted, “but it’s what I’m willing to say.”
“I can respect that.”
A soft smile spread her lips as she propped her chin on her hand and looked at him. Logan glanced away to shield his expression. If given the chance he had a feeling he could completely lose himself in her eyes.
“I’m not judging you on your scars, you know,” she said, startling him.
Immediately, his jaw clamped and he drew back. Why had he been leaning in toward her that way? “It doesn’t matter if you are,” he said softly. “I’m used to it.”
Frowning, she tilted her head at him. “I’m going to call you out on that one, buddy. You walk around like you have a swastika tattooed on your forehead and are trying to hide it. This isn’t the group to hide in.”
Logan frowned. “If you see the way most people react to my face, you would understand.”
“No one will react to you like that here. I’ve seen how the public reacts to Zeke,” she said, pointing to the huge man across the way. Even from across the room Logan could see the unevenness in his face, and the healed scars. But also, he was grinning like a mother at something John had said. “He works as a bartender with his fiancée. I’m sure he probably has the occasional issue but for the most part he just rolls with it. I think you have to own it and be above anyone else’s expectations.”
“Easy for you to say,” he snapped, angry now, probably because he knew she was right. “You’ve got the world on a platter. You’re beautiful and you have a great job, as well as a brilliant future. I have a feeling your home life was kittens and rainbows. I don’t need your patronizing attitude.”
Logan sat back in the chair. Marigold, conversely, propped both arms on the table as she leaned across toward him. “Yes, I had kittens and rainbows when I was a kid, thanks to my grandparents. I also had a suicidal mother and a father that was killed in action. No one here has treated you as if you’re lesser. Period. We all have issues, Logan.” Then she frowned. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Logan blinked, ready to lash out again, until he heard the uncertainty in her voice. Her eyes were hooded, like she didn’t want to be looking into his face when he tore her down.
“You have to know you’re beautiful,” he said, voice gruff. “How can you tell me to be secure in myself when you aren’t?”
She gave him an ironic look. “Yeah... what’s that saying about doctors being the worst patients?”
Narrowing his eyes, he stared at her. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she murmured. Flagging down the waiter she ordered a rum and coke. “John have any more info about your family?”
Logan sighed, knowing that he needed to let go of his aggravation. “No, nothing really. The info I gave him is pretty slim.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?”
He lifted a brow at her question and she shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry. I’m curious.”
“It was my dad’s family out here. My dad, my mom, my younger brother and older sister all left here back in the late nineties. I just know there was some kind of falling out, and we drove away in my dad’s craptastic car. We broke down in Indiana and stayed for a while, before finally making it to Virginia. I was like, six at the time, and I just remember being hungry and cold in the back of the car as we drove. And fighting over space with my sister.”
By the end of that trip, though, they’d been friends more than enemies. Jana had been just as scared, he was sure, but she’d cared for him like the lion he always thought her. Their mother had concentrated on taking care of the baby, leaving Logan with Jana.
“We settled around Bowling Green, Virginia. My dad was familiar with the area because he’d been on the Army base there years ago. I think even after he was discharged from the Army he hung around and worked for a while, before he went home. It was familiar to him.”
He played with his empty glass, wondering if Bowling Green still looked the same. There had been changes, he was sure, but he wasn’t curious enough to ever go back. Just talking about it was too much.
“So, what are your thoughts on finding your family?” she asked him softly. “Do you think you’ll want to reconnect with them?”
Logan had thought about this for a long time. “Assuming there is any family, and that’s a huge IF, I’d like to reconnect and find out what went wrong. My job was in intelligence, and I’ve looked for anything I can find about my family, but I just don’t have enough to go on. I’ve looked in all the obvious places, now I guess I need help looking for the un-obvious places.”
Marigold nodded her head. “John will help you with that. It’s impressive you came all the way out here for that. Where do you live now?”
“Virginia, just outside of Richmond. It was just a stop after I got out of the hospital. And I didn’t come out for John to work on my case. Shannon pretended to be a damsel in distress, but she helped me out at the airport and one thing led to another.”
Marigold grinned at him. “Yeah, things do that around here. My suggestion is to just enjoy the ride and be patient. John will find something.”
Must be nice to have someone have that kind of faith in you.
“So, you came all the way out here from Virginia to maybe find your family?”
Logan blinked, not surprised that she realized there was more to it than that. “No, I have other business. Army business.”
Her dark brows lifted a little. “Ah. Fun.”
Logan clenched his jaw and fought the trepidation in his gut. “Not really.”
She seemed to sense that there was more to what he was saying, but he wasn’t going to fill her in. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” he told her softly.
“You know,” she said softly, leaning forward to park her elbows on the table. “A couple years after my dad was killed, we had a guy come to our door. I was old enough to remember my mom crying when he left. When I asked about it, she just said he had been one of my dad’s friends from the Marines. I never found out exactly what he said, just that he made my mother feel better. She’d been in a fog for months, kind of drifting through. I made us dinner most of the time, and I was only six or seven. But I remember her changing after that. She started to be more like my mom again.”
A chill went through him as she related her story. How had she known that was why he was here?
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She smiled softly, twisting a silver ring around her pinky finger. “I can admire what you’re doing, looking for the family. It might really make a difference in their grief.”
Again, he was fighting emotion. He never told her he was looking for a family. This woman understood him in a way he never expected. “Thank you for telling me your story,” he said. “Did you ever find out who it was?”
Marigold looked up at him and grinned. “Yup. Can you keep a secret? It was a young Marine by the name of John Palmer.”
Logan barked out a laugh. “Seriously?”
Marigold nodded. “It had been his first command and my father had been the first man he’d lost, so he felt he needed to come talk to the family. He doesn’t know who I am, so don’t say anything, okay?”
He nodded, feeling bemused, and thoroughly curious. “So, where are you from? And how did you come to be here?”
Grinning, Marigold rocked back in her chair. “I’m from Arizona, originally. Tucson. My mom died a few years ago and I wasn’t sure what to do with my life. I’d taken care of her for so long, I was a little lost. We’d done everything together. She never married again and never seemed completely happy after my dad died. It was sad, really. It was like I was the only reason she was living and once I started looking at colleges out of state, it was like she gave up.”
“Did she commit suicide?” he asked, horrified for her yet morbidly curious at the same time.
Marigold frowned, her eyes going dark. “I don’t want to think that, but I do, yes. She was a diabetic, so it was very important that she monitor her sugar. I think she just let herself go. I know she was drinking; I could hear it in her voice when she talked to me.”
She turned her face away, but not before he saw tears glimmering in her eyes. Logan knew she had to be feeling incredibly guilty. He could see and understand the emotion because he lived with it every day of his wretched life.