Christmas To Remember
Page 18
Barry let out a tear-filled laugh and squeezed his shoulder. “That sounds like him.”
Lowering his head, he nodded. “He’d been after this girl for a while, asking her out, flirting with her like crazy. She turned him down every time and it drove him nuts. That girl kept him hopping and Beau—I think she could’ve been the one for him.” The way Marley had been the one for him.
But not anymore.
Another rough laugh escaped Barry. “I’ll be…I didn’t think he’d ever find a girl he’d like that much.”
He nodded, the pieces coming together faster, easier. “She finally said yes, but he had duty. We figured we’d get busted, but he checked the schedule and a couple of new guys were working. They didn’t know us well enough to tell the difference.”
Barry exhaled, the sound rough. “So you switched places. It wasn’t the military’s fault.”
No, it wasn’t. He didn’t remember much more than that. Leaving the building side by side, both of them edgy. Beau excited about the girl, him giving Beau lectures on not blowing things with his date by acting too cocky. They’d approached the center of the camp by the mess hall. And then—nothing. Had he seen Beau die? “We switched places,” he confirmed, his gut tight. “We couldn’t have been more than a few feet apart when the bomb exploded.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered, Jack. The uniform, the tags. It still would’ve been Beau.”
He shrugged Barry’s hand off his shoulder.
“Jack?”
“I’ll get Beau’s truck back to you soon.”
“Where are you going? Jack?”
“I’m not the son you want.”
He ran outside and climbed into Beau’s Dodge. As he backed out of the drive, the image of Barry standing silhouetted on the porch of the little house matched the image he had of Pop doing the same thing. Standing there, watching him drive away because he couldn’t handle the pressure of being compared to someone else.
Fifteen minutes later, he rolled to a stop along the street in front of Marley’s business. She was the last person who’d take him in under the circumstances, but he owed her an explanation, however unbelievable. He could leave the truck there. She’d see to it Barry got it back.
But he’d already crawled through the alley and Clay’s Jeep was parked beside Marley’s truck, Angel’s flashy sports car on the other side.
No way would he make it inside the apartment with Marley’s defenders in place. What would he say if he did?
Maybe the wrong guy had lived.
A flash caught his attention. The second-floor apartment lights had been on, but now they were off. Moments passed, and he waited, hoping. No one left the alley. Clay and Angel were spending the night, keeping her company. Staying behind to protect her.
Good friends did that. Family did that.
He hadn’t. Maybe he wouldn’t have abandoned Marley the way Beau had, but…he’d abandoned his father. And to his eyes there wasn’t much of a difference.
Funny how time and life experiences could change a person’s outlook. Barry wasn’t his father, but he’d stood by him when he had to have been torn apart by his son’s death. He thought of the days Barry had spent in bed after the fish incident and now knew why. Barry had been mourning his son, then he’d set grief aside and forced himself to cope with what had happened. So that he could protect them all from a melee of press and people.
Jack stared at the window a long moment, then slid the truck into gear. Some people deserved second chances.
But he wasn’t one of them.
BARRY BUCHANAN stood in her doorway looking very much like a man who’d spent the night tossing and turning.
“Is he all right?” The question tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it even though her mind called her every kind of a fool for caring.
Barry’s shoulders slumped even more. “You mean, he’s not here?”
Marley shook her head, aware of Angel joining her in the living room. Clay was in the shower. They’d both spent the night. Angel for support and a friendly shoulder, Clay in the hopes that Beau’s imposter would return so that he could tear him limb from limb. One glance at her face and he’d known what had happened. Clay had been biding his time ever since, giving her all manner of looks from sympathy to brotherly disappointment to out-and-out fury.
How could a woman sleep with a man thinking he was someone else?
It was yet another soap-opera moment. She felt cheap. Easy. The naive girl who’d tried so hard to grow up had obviously failed.
“I need to talk to you, Ms. Pierce.”
“Now’s not a good time and…I don’t know where B—where he is.”
“Jack.” Barry lifted a shaky hand and ran it over his balding head. “His name is Jack, not Beau. You were right about that.”
“You knew? You knew and you went along with the joke?”
“It wasn’t a joke.” Tears brightened the man’s eyes and it was obvious it wasn’t the first time that day it had happened. “Beau—my son—was killed in the bombing that injured Jack. They were friends and they…It’s complicated.”
Angel took her arm and pulled her out of the way. “Then why don’t you come in and explain it, Mr. Buchanan.” Angel directed them both to sit down on the couch, the pillow and sheet Clay had used the night before in a pile nearby. Angel had slept with her in the queen-sized bed, handing her tissues and listening the way she always had growing up.
“What’s he doing here?” Clay asked, hurrying into the room. Dressed in the same clothes he’d worn last night, his shirt stuck to his wet skin and water dripped from his hair. He must’ve heard Barry’s voice and come running thinking it was—Jack.
“That’s what we’re about to find out,” Angel murmured, casting Marley a worried look when she remained silent. “Mr. Buchanan says he can explain.”
Barry took a deep breath, met her gaze briefly and then started talking, having to backtrack several times so they could get the story straight. Before long they knew the details of the unbelievable events.
“I’m sorry for your loss, for what happened. That must’ve been—How horrible.” Marley pressed her hand to her mouth and tried to comprehend it all.
The saying was that everyone had a twin somewhere but…imagine finding each other. In a war, no less where thousands upon thousands worked and fought day in and day out. Becoming friends, buddies. Imagine a woman falling for them both.
It was surreal. Beau had been a teenage crush that shouldn’t have been, but Jack—
Barry gave her brother a wary glance and stood. “I’d appreciate it if you keep this quiet for now. I need to find him. Make sure he’s okay. Then we’ll deal with the mix-up and get things straightened out.” Barry’s gaze fastened onto hers. “He didn’t mean to hurt you. I can vouch for that. He was torn up last night, hated himself for not remembering.”
“I should’ve figured it out sooner. Now that I know, I see so many differences. Beau was…Beau,” she stated drily, unwilling to hurt Barry after everything that had happened. “But Jack—”
“Is a good man.” Barry’s gaze remained steady on hers. “Jack is everything a father should be proud of and when I remembered that Jack’s father didn’t want him around—”
“What do you mean? What do you know about Brody’s family?” Clay asked.
“I know his brother’s in jail for murder. Jack’s father took the other boy’s side of things and in doing so, he turned the whole town against them. Beau said Jack had a rough time of it in school. Got beat up, made fun of. The things kids do.”
Angel rubbed her hand along Marley’s back. “People can be cruel. They single someone out and suddenly you can’t win the battle no matter how hard you try. Adults are cruel enough, but kids are vicious. High school was hell for me because of my mom, but at least she hadn’t killed anyone. Can you imagine what was said to him?”
She could. Not the words necessarily, but the tone. The sneers and smirks. The looks on their faces
as he walked by them, just like the expressions she’d seen after her pregnancy had become public. Marley listened as the conversation continued, but her mind was slow to process things.
Over the years all she’d ever thought of was what had happened to her. How Beau had treated her. How losing the baby had affected her. How Mama hadn’t been there for her. Her, her, her. But after Barry’s comments, she realized she’d acted the same way Beau had. She’d put herself first.
What had been said to her mother? What had been done?
“There aren’t many people who would’ve set their own feelings aside to take care of Jack the way you did,” Angel told Barry. “A lot of people would’ve immediately raised a stink about what happened regardless of the problems or health risks it posed to Jack.”
“When you care for someone you put him first.” Marley tried to smile, but couldn’t. “You made the right decision for Jack.”
Just as she had to make the decision for her mother. Putting it off wasn’t changing anything. She wasn’t getting better.
“Thanks for coming and explaining things. We’ll keep an eye out for him, and keep this quiet. If you find him, I’m sure Marley would like to know he’s safe.”
Angel’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. Marley raised her head and blinked as she saw Angel and Clay walking Barry to the door. She stood and went into the bedroom, hurrying to pull on clothes.
Jack’s mind had shut down to protect him, cutting off his memories until he was able to cope, but her mother didn’t have that escape hatch. Instead she took pills and welcomed the cessation they offered. But what about now? Jack remembered, had come out of it, whereas her mother was…
An addict.
She couldn’t do anything about Jack until he returned. If he returned. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and missed a beat at the thought of never seeing him again, but she ignored the sensation and grabbed a sweatshirt. Shoes. Her coat was by the door. She could only deal with one problem at a time.
She might not be able to do anything about Jack, but she had to go see her mom. Had to talk to her.
A soft knock sounded on the door. “You okay?” Angel asked, opening it far enough to poke her head inside the room.
“Yeah.”
“You sure? Clay left for work. I thought you might want to talk some more. Pretty amazing story, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. Can you watch the shop? Open up and stay until Amy comes? I’m going to be a while, probably all day.”
Angel’s eyebrows rose. “Sure, but what about Jack?”
“If he calls will you give him my cell number? I’ve got to go.” She slid past Angel in the hall and grabbed her coat. “We’ll talk later. Angel—” she turned and hugged her friend tight “—thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you. You never once said a word about what I did with…Jack.”
Angel laughed her throaty laugh. “Hey, you’ve gotta ride those horses when you can.”
Marley rolled her eyes and laughed, blushed, then hurried out the door. Exactly six minutes later she arrived at her parents’ house. Marley noted her father was gone and knew he was probably working his way through another Saturday. Whatever it took to escape the problems at home.
She used her key to unlock the door, searched the bottom floor to no avail. Her mother used to get up at the crack of dawn to watch the sunrise. Now she slept the day away. “Mama?”
She climbed the stairs two at a time and found her mother in bed, propped up by pillows in a sitting position but asleep all the same. Her father had apparently brought up a tray for her. Tea and toast. Untouched. “Mama. Mama, wake up.”
Her mother’s lashes lifted drowsily. “Marley?”
“We need to talk.”
She turned her head back and forth on the bed in short, lazy motions. “Not now, Marley, I’m tired.”
“No, now.” Inhaling deeply, she shook her mother’s arm, jostling her roughly. “Now, Mama. Mama? Wake up!” She grabbed hold of the blankets and sheet and yanked them from the bed. “Come on, we’re eating breakfast downstairs.”
Her mother curled onto her side. “I’m not hungry.”
Her words slurred a bit, her lashes rising high enough to give Marley a look at her mother’s medicated gaze. How many pills did it take to make the world disappear?
Marley dragged her mother’s legs over the side of the bed. “Up.” With a lot of pulling, pushing and prodding, Marley got her mother on her feet, dressed, then practically carried her downstairs into the kitchen. Surprisingly it wasn’t as difficult as it should’ve been due to the weight her mother had lost.
Next came food. Marley put her mother in a chair at the kitchen table and hurriedly made instant oatmeal. More tea. Her mother sat slumped over the table, but at least her eyes were open.
“Marley, please. I’m not hungry.”
“You either eat it or I’ll feed you, every bite.”
Her mother stiffened, looking more alert with every second that passed. She straightened. “Don’t talk to me that way.”
Marley put the bowl of oatmeal on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. Her mother hesitated only a second before she took a bite. It was a slow process, but gradually she lifted the spoon over and over until most of the oatmeal was gone. As if her body had wanted food, recognized its hunger. When she’d sipped the last of the tea, Marley decided she couldn’t put off the inevitable.
“Come on. Let’s go outside.”
Her mother balked. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why? We’ll only be in the backyard and it’s not too cold for a walk. Unless you’re afraid someone might see you with me?”
“Marley…” She looked away. “Don’t say things like that.”
Marley smacked her hands down onto the table, jarring the silk flower arrangement atop it and startling her mother so badly she jumped.
“Why not say it? It’s true, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MARLEY LEANED LOWER, closer to her. “Come on, Mama, be honest. Is it true?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. Your friends talked about me and the pregnancy. Behind your back, maybe even in front of you. They probably pretended to worry and fuss, but what they said wasn’t always nice, was it? And there I was. Angry, belligerent, so wrapped up in what was happening to me, that I didn’t give any thought to how you might feel.”
“I want to go back to bed. You should go.”
“Mama, I understand now. And I’m sorry for how people treated you when it was my fault I was pregnant in the first place. That wasn’t right and I’m sorry you suffered for something I did.”
“You should leave, Marley.”
“No! We are going to talk about this. We’re going to start over, put this behind us once and for all a-and get a clean slate!” She used Jack’s words deliberately, reminding herself that she and her mother both had to forgive in order to move on.
Her mother stood shakily, holding on to the table, her skin so pale it looked translucent. “Goodbye, Marley.”
“Mama, why are you doing this to yourself? It isn’t fixing anything. All you’re doing is missing out on your life. What about that cookbook you always wanted to put together for the church? The scrap-booking club you wanted to start? It was five years ago and, yeah, a lot has happened since then, but you can’t keep drugging yourself in an attempt to hide from reality!”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m doing no such—”
“You are! You know you are, otherwise you wouldn’t look so guilty!”
Her mother’s mouth opened and closed twice before she found the words. “You know nothing about how I feel, Marley. Nothing. If you did, you wouldn’t—” Her mother broke off but kept walking, out of the kitchen and into the hall, head down, shoulders slumped.
“I wouldn’t what?” Determined, Marley raced past her, up the stairs and into the bedroom, hearing her mother�
��s calls for her to stop. To get out of her room and leave her alone. Marley yanked open the nightstand drawer, finding the stash of pills. How could something so small alter someone’s life so easily?
She met her mother at the halfway point on the stairs.
“Marley Renee, what are you—Give me that!”
“No.” Marley hugged the container to her chest and kept going, down the stairs, back into the kitchen.
Her mother hurried after her. “Marley, stop this! This is—It’s nonsense. Do you hear me? You have no idea what you’re talking about! Give me back my medication. It’s none of your concern!”
“Why isn’t it in the cabinet? Why were you hiding it?”
“I wasn’t!”
“You hide it because you take too much, and you started taking it after I lost the baby. It is my concern because it’s your crutch for a problem—me.”
“No, Marley, you’re not a problem!”
She waited until her mother had almost caught up with her before she stepped through the French doors into the sunshine, hardening her heart against the guilt she felt at causing her mother more pain.
She forced herself to keep going until she sat down on the step of the old playhouse, well aware of her mother watching her from inside, pacing the floor and wringing her hands.
This was it. Either her mother came out after her and the medication and acknowledged the problem or—Or she had another breakdown?
No. She was better now. Stronger, just like Jack.
Oh, Jack, wherever you are, be safe. She couldn’t add more to the prayer because she was afraid to. Afraid if she did, she’d hope too much.
With a small cry, her mother stumbled out into the sunshine, squinting at the brightness like a cave dweller. Crying, she glared at Marley and tried to pry the box from her arms.
“Let me have it. Why are you doing this?”