This Is the Wonder

by Tracey Ward

  “Because I think he needs you. As a friend. He doesn’t have many, does he?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re a good one to have.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have kissed my fiancée.”

  “And I think he knows that.”

  Jax shakes flexes his hand, wincing slightly as the cuts on his knuckles tug and pull. “I wouldn’t mind reminding him again.”

  I wash my hands then join him in the bedroom. He’s sitting on the end of the bed staring at the floor, and I sit down next to him.

  “Two days ago we were lying in a bed in Italy getting engaged,” I muse. “And now this. How does something so good go so bad so fast?”

  “I don’t know. It’s this life. High highs, low lows. Lot of hurry up and wait. It’s not easy. It’s lonely and emotional. Stressful. It’s why people do the dumb shit they do.”

  “Why people kiss people they shouldn’t?”

  “And sleep with people they shouldn’t. Miss people they shouldn’t. Like Mason and his wife.” He groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe we’re doomed to be just like them.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  His hands rise up over his face to his hair. “I thought I could make it different. I never wanted to be like my dad or Joe, and I definitely don’t want to end up like Mason, but maybe it’s a lost cause. Maybe being military means that this is how it goes.”

  I feel myself falling, freaked out by the way he’s talking. Jax is very rarely anything but optimistic, and this frustration, what he’s considering, scares me. “I didn’t cheat, Jax.”

  “I know that,” he admits, dropping his hands heavily. “I told you, I trust you. I know you’d never cheat, but I can’t keep shit like tonight from happening. I can’t control other people.”

  “You don’t have to. It doesn’t matter what other people do or say. All you have to do is trust me and I’ll trust you and we’ll be okay.”

  “You know how you were scared of me deploying because you couldn’t protect me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s how I feel now. I feel like I can’t keep this sort of thing from happening to you. I can’t protect you from this. I can’t keep the deployments from happening either. I don’t want to be gone all the time, but that’s the job.”

  “And I’m okay with that. I can handle it.”

  I look at my hands, my eyes going tight at the corners. “Is it like this with everyone? Does everyone cheat in the military?”

  “No,” he answers firmly. He sits forward with his elbows on his knees. “There’s a guy in my shop who went on deployment last year. He was gone six months. He came back and his wife was three months pregnant. He’s raising that baby as his own, acting like he can’t do the math. She made a mistake. She got lonely, she slipped up, but she didn’t want to leave him and he loved her enough not to leave her.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “For every story you hear like that, there are fifty couples, maybe a hundred even, that never go through anything like it. People who can take the distance and live the life and never fuck up. But the odds… the odds are higher because this life is harder. It puts a lot of stress on people and there will be questions and doubts and I don’t want that for you.”

  I swallow, my throat suddenly feeling tight. “Are you breaking up with me?” I whisper.

  He looks at me sharply, shocked. “No! That’s not what I’m… shit. I’m sorry. No. I’m just ranting, Wren. I’m venting. I’m angry and frustrated about what marrying me will do to you. The risk it puts you at with shit like tonight and the fear when I’m deployed.”

  “I get that. But it’s my choice and I made it. You are my choice, Jax. I’m going into this with eyes wide open. I understand what your job is and I get that it’s important to you. It’s important to me too. I’m proud of you and what you do, and I know we both have to make sacrifices for it. And you’re right, you can’t keep things like tonight from happening. Neither can I. All we can do is trust each other.” I grin weakly. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think your dad was right. Communication and honesty are how you make it in a marriage, especially a military one. We have to talk to each other and we have to be honest with each other. Always.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head dismally. “That bastard. Don’t ever tell him he’s right. We’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll insist on being involved in everything we do.”

  “Like he is with Cade?”

  “Yeah, exactly like Cade.”

  “What happened there?” I ask curiously. “Besides the DUI?”

  He falls back on the bed, reaching for me and pulling me down beside him. “I can’t tonight. I’ll tell you someday, but not tonight. Not with everything else that’s happening.”

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s just not a pretty story.” He turns to look at me, his eyes full of love and sadness. “And I want these last hours with you to be better than they want to be.”

  For the rest of the night we lie next to each other on our backs, our eyes trained on the shifting moonlight on the ceiling and our hands grasped between us. Jax has lifted them up, bending my arm at the elbow ninety degrees until I can see our hands. I watch his fingers play with each of mine, threading through them and lightly tracing each one.

  He swipes his thumb over my palm and I shiver.

  He runs his fingers over the blue bracelet and I smile.

  He writes I ♥ U on the inside of my wrist.

  And I cry.

  He knows it, but he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t try to make me feel better, because how? How would he do it? With everything that happened, with this insane ending to our short time together, what can either of us do? Nothing. There’s nothing. I’m leaving early in the morning and there’s nothing we can do to stop that. This is only the second time we’ve lived this sorrow, but it still feels fresh. Or maybe it’s familiar and mundane, like saying goodbye to each other is our way of life, and I guess it is. When I do the math I realize we’ve been together less than we’ve been apart, and it’s not what we want but it’s what we’ve chosen because it’s what we can have. It’s this or nothing, and given the choice, I’ll always choose this.

  I’ll always choose him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I tell my mom about the engagement first, dragging her into the bathroom with me and locking the door. I’m nervous about telling Dad and I want her advice on how to talk to him about it. It’s not that I don’t think they’ll approve of me marrying Jax. They love him almost blindly. I’m worried because of me. Because of my indecision over the last couple years and my blatant fear of the future. Getting married is a big step and I’m not sure how to explain to them that I’m not waffling on this one. That I feel certain for the first time in a long, long time.

  Mom isn’t surprised, though. In fact, she tells me my dad isn’t going to be surprised either. Turns out he told her when I left for Jersey that he would be surprised if I didn’t come back engaged. And she’s right. When I tell him, fully expecting a lecture on establishing my life first and making the thoroughly vetted decisions, he laughs and simply says, ‘Alright then.’

  That’s it.

  That night Jax calls to go full old school and ask my dad’s permission to marry me, a conversation that I’m sure will go pretty smoothly considering I’ve already told my dad that I’m getting married to Jax – no question.

  “Well that was the scariest thing I’ll do today,” he tells me when I get the phone back from my dad.

  “What’d he say?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Okay… what’d you say?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did he tell you it was cool to marry me or…?”

  “Wren,” he says quietly, “I honestly have absolutely no fucking memory of the last five minutes.”

  I laugh, letting it go. “Alright. We’ll just go forward assuming we hav
e his blessing then.”

  “And if he stands up and objects in the middle of the ceremony?”

  “I’ll blame you.”

  “Fair.”

  We talk details after that and decided that since his family is so difficult to wrangle into one location at one time, we’ll have a better shot at getting most of them to New Jersey where his parents live.

  The decision immediately irritates my mom, even though I don’t get why. She says it’s insensitive of them to make us do all of the traveling, but I don’t get how it wouldn’t be insensitive of us to make them come to Idaho. In the end it isn’t her choice to make, but apparently it is her prerogative to bitch about it every chance she gets. And she does.

  Robin is thrilled for me that I’m getting married to Jax, but only after I promise her not to get married before the baby is born. Doesn’t matter that that is basically impossible considering Jax is still in Germany and the baby is due any minute now. Logic doesn’t work on Robin anymore. Now it’s all about damage control. We’re all constantly putting out fires we didn’t start and I have a newfound respect for the brave members of the fire department because holy shit, this job is exhausting and irritating. Can people maybe not set fire to the world for just one night? Just let me sleep through one night.

  Not in the cards.

  My phone rings on the nightstand in the middle of the night on a Tuesday, the most innocuous day of the week, which somehow makes it the most ominous. You never expect the Devil to come calling on a Tuesday. He’s more of a weekender in my opinion.

  “Hello?” I croak groggily, my eyes still shut tight in hope. Hope that this will be quick and meaningless.

  “Joe is in the hospital.”

  I’m instantly awake and sitting up in bed. “Jax, what happened?”

  He clears his throat roughly. “He, uh, he was in an accident.”

  “What kind?”

  “Car.”

  My heart plummets, my mind flooding with all of my worst fears. “Was he alone?” I ask roughly. “How are Tana and the kids?”

  “They’re okay,” he assures me. “They were at home asleep. He was alone in his car.”

  I push my hand through my hair, bringing the mess up out of my face and trying to get my bearings. I struggle for what to say. For words that will help and comfort. Anything to make up for the distance that makes me feel so impotent. Until I started dating Jax, I never realized how much I rely on eye contact or touch to comfort someone. Loving him has opened my eyes to how hard it is to be there for someone when you’re not actually there. Your words carry more weight because they have to. Because what else is there?

  “Did he hit another car?” I finally ask.

  “No. It’s just him. I don’t know how bad it is yet. I got the call from Cade an hour ago and haven’t heard anything new.”

  “And you’re just now calling me?”

  He pauses. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  My shoulders slump. “Jax.”

  “You can’t do anything about it, Wren.”

  “Nothing but wait with you. Be here for you.”

  “Would you mind doing that now? I’m going out of my mind waiting here.”

  “Yeah, of course. Are you at work?”

  “No. Day off. I was supposed to go bowling with the guys. Have a few beers, relax. Now I’m pacing my room waiting for the phone to ring and tell me if my brother is dead.”

  Oh my God, I think, shocked that the situation is that bad.

  “You have call waiting, right?” I ask. “We’re not tying up the line?”

  “No, I have it.”

  “Okay. What can I do?”

  “Just talk to me, please?”

  “About what?”

  “Anything. Anything but my family.”

  I search my brain, feeling flustered and panicked. It feels like when someone demands you tell them your favorite movie or book or TV show. Idly you know what it is, no question. Under pressure you can barely remember your own name.

  “How are the guys?” I finally ask, hoping broad is best.

  “They’re good. Sanchez still wants to serenade you.”

  I grin. “I can’t wait.”

  “Birchart is about to put on his next rank.”

  “What will he be?”

  “Senior Airmen.”

  “Do you outrank him?”

  I’m glad to hear Jax laugh slightly. “Yeah. Barely, but it’s enough.”

  “Enough to lord over him?”

  “When it’s fun for me, yeah.”

  I hesitate, not sure if I should ask the next question. Not now when I just got him onto a lighter topic. But in the end, I can’t ignore it. I have to know. “How are you and Haskins?”

  “Speaking,” he answers immediately.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Don’t get too excited. We talk about work, that’s it.”

  “Was he going to go bowling with you guys?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t care enough to ask.”

  I don’t reply and I know I’m failing at my job, but I hold my tongue anyway.

  “You don’t approve?” Jax asks, sounding sarcastic. And tired.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Your silence speaks volumes.”

  “I’m sorry. Let’s talk about something else.”

  He sighs. “It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with him again. It’s just too soon. It’s only been a couple weeks. I still want to punch his face when I see him. When that urge goes away, then we’ll talk about something other than work. Okay?”

  “You handle it however you have to.”

  “I am.”

  “Good.”

  “Great.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Amazing.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Epic.”

  “How long are we doing this?” Jax chuckles.

  I smile. “I think we just stopped.”

  The house phone rings faintly from downstairs. An echoing ring sounds from down the hall in my parent’s bedroom.

  I frown, looking at the clock. It’s three in the morning.

  “Jax, hold on a second, okay?” I ask him distractedly.

  “Everything okay?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  A door flies open and feet thunder down the hallway. It sounds like my dad. He pounds quick and furious against my closed door before heading for the stairs. Another set of feet follow soon after him.

  “Wren, let’s go!” Mom shouts as she passes my room heading for the stairs. “Robin is having the baby!”

  I leap off my bed and search for my shoes. What am I wearing? Do I have a bra on? Where are my damn shoes?!

  “Wren?” Jax asks anxiously.

  “Oh, shit, Jax. I’m sorry. This is such bad timing.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Robin is in labor. My parents are going to the hospital now.”

  “You’re staying at your parent’s house?”

  “I promised Robin I would until my job starts in a couple days. She wanted me close just in case she had the baby. I guess it’s happening now.”

  “Go,” he says firmly. “Good luck to your sister and Chris.”

  “Are you sure? It could take hours. I can stay on the phone and wait with you.”

  “I’ll be fine. Go. And keep me posted.”

  I finally find my shoes and slip my cold feet inside them, no socks. I’ll regret that later but I can’t see that far ahead right now. All I know is that this dark sleepy night has suddenly become wildly complicated.

  Never trust a Tuesday.

  ***

  No one gets word until the morning. It’s nine, though it feels like deep midnight before either of us hears anything. But just as the accident rode in with the excitement, it rides out with it as well. Jax and I get the news within twenty minutes of each other.

  Robin has given birth to a healthy baby boy.


  Joseph is in stable condition and expected to make a full recovery.

  “It’s the PTSD,” Jax says, his voice so low I almost miss it.

  I glance down the hospital hallway, checking to make sure I’m alone. My parents are down getting coffee while they wait for the chance to go in and see Robin, Chris, and their new grandson. I have about five minutes.

  “Do you really think so?” I whisper to Jax.

  “Cade said he got orders. He’s deploying again.”

  “Cade is?”

  “No. Joseph.”

  “Oh,” I reply faintly. Then I realize what he’s saying. What he’s implying Joe has done. “Oh,” I repeat heavily.

  “Yup.”

  “Do you really think he tried to…”

  “Kill himself?” Jax asks bluntly, his voice even. He’s quiet for a long time, considering his words. His brother. “I don’t know. I want to hope not, but the timing is… it’s not good.”

  “Well, with this accident they probably won’t deploy him, right?”

  “Depends on how hurt he is. He has plenty of time to heal up before he’s supposed to go.”

  “Physically yeah, but mentally no. Right?”

  “That depends on how he plays it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I hear a burst of air shoot from Jax’s lungs and into the phone, and I wonder what he’s doing. Is he at home? At work? I didn’t look to see what number came up on the caller ID.

  Wherever he is, I wish he wasn’t alone.

  “I mean that Joe is in charge of how much everyone knows,” Jax says quietly. He’s nearly whispering and I’m instantly convinced he’s at work. “He can hide it enough to get by without being diagnosed. You have to want to get help, you have to want to admit you need it, but most people don’t. It feels like a failure. You think it looks like a weakness.”

  “Do you think he’s weak?”

  “No. But if I was having trouble and someone told me I needed to get help, I would tell them to fuck off.”

  “Seriously? Why?”

  “’Cause I can handle my business.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “It doesn’t have to.”

  “So do you think he’ll get help now?”