by Jenna Mindel
He came out from cleaning the mess of a downstairs bathroom and caught Monica wiping down the kitchen table. Tomorrow loomed wide open, as well. How long were they going to be stuck here? He needed to leave no later than Saturday morning to drive back to base in order to report for duty on Monday. He had a twenty-two hour drive to reach Camp Lejeune in southern North Carolina.
Monica looked at him and laughed.
“What?”
“Afraid you’ll get your hands dirty?”
“So I wear rubber gloves when I clean a bathroom. Those cleaners are harsh.” He’d picked up the habit of wearing them when he’d been in boot camp and assigned to clean the latrine. He’d been asked to repeat that duty on a couple occasions for disciplinary reasons.
She held up her hand. “Don’t put those back under the kitchen sink. They belong to the bathroom now.”
He stripped them off and stashed the gloves in the cabinet under the bathroom sink. Walking toward Monica, he spread his hands wide, “What now?”
She glanced at the boys on the couch watching TV, before looking at him. Her eyes seemed to glow. “Campfire?”
He shook his head. “Too early.”
“We can burn the tops of those trees you cut up. That’s better done in daylight.”
“What’s with you and fire?”
Her cheeks flushed again. “Best part of yard cleanup.”
She’d become a living wildfire to him, scorching his memory. The taste of her was forever burned into him and this time he didn’t think he could shake it.
He turned to the boys. “You guys want to burn some wood?”
Ethan jumped up. “Yeah!”
Owen looked reluctant. Cash couldn’t blame the kid for wanting to stay indoors rather than work. They’d already put in a lot of cleanup hours.
Cash finger-combed his whiskered chin. “I bet there’s more caterpillars for you to find outside.”
Owen perked up.
“You don’t have help with the wood if you don’t want to.”
The little guy nodded and got off the couch.
“Shoes and a jacket,” Cash said.
Owen marched into his room along with Ethan.
“Thank you.” Monica perched on the lower steps of the loft.
It hit him that he’d do just about anything for her. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll grab a sweatshirt and meet you outside.”
Cash nodded, and hearing Ethan’s raised voice, headed for the boys’ room. “Come on, guys, what’s wrong now?”
“He won’t give me my jacket.” Ethan pointed at Owen.
Cash looked at Owen, the little instigator. “Hand it over.”
Owen gave his brother the jacket. The gleam of mischief in his eyes warned Cash that whatever was going on between the two wasn’t over.
“Now your shoes.”
His sister-in-law had had the foresight to send work boots with her boys. Since their tennis shoes were still wet from riding the side-by-sides, the boys had worn their work boots on this morning’s walk. Cash grabbed one of Owen’s boots and helped the boy into it, then the other, lacing them up.
He glanced at Ethan, who’d managed to get his on just fine but needed help tying them. “Now jackets and let’s go.”
Cash grabbed a long-sleeved pullover that he slipped on over his T-shirt on the way out. The early evening had turned rather chilly with a bank of cloud cover that had moved in, but it wasn’t as cold as the night before. They might be in for more rain.
Monica joined them. She wore her rubber boots and grabbed work gloves from the pole barn.
He couldn’t help but watch her fluid movements as she walked toward him.
“Gloves? I know how you worry about getting your hands dirty.” Monica gave him a teasing smile.
He took the pair she offered and pulled on her ponytail when she turned to help Ethan into a set.
“Ow.” She swung around and cocked her fist, ready to give him a punch to the arm.
He ducked away.
She came after him, so he ran. It felt good to fall back into their old antics. It felt normal.
Ethan cheered and Cash could hear Owen’s giggle as Monica chased him around the backyard. They played their own private game of tag. He’d stop, only to dart away again, but she caught up to him. Monica grabbed his shirt, he spun too fast and she slipped. They both fell, but Cash twisted so he brought Monica down to land on top of him when they hit the ground. The soft grassy earth wouldn’t have hurt her, though.
He looked up into her startled face and grinned. “Cozy.”
She squirmed and pushed against his chest. “Let me up.”
He heard the breathlessness in her voice and that comfortable teasing they’d just reclaimed went up in flames. She was on fire again, burning him, too, as he tightened his hold on her. He studied her mouth. Could he get away with a brief—?
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed.
He smirked. “I’m always up for a dare.”
Too late. He heard peals of laughter as both boys joined the pile by launching onto them.
Monica slid from his grasp as he loosened his hold to roll and tickle Owen.
The boy squealed and laughed some more.
Ethan jumped on his back.
Cash got up with Ethan clinging to his shoulders and Owen wrapped around his leg. He walked like Frankenstein toward Monica, who was pulling grass from her hair. “Er-r-r...”
She looked at him and laughed. “Nice. Come on, we have tree tops to burn.”
“Fire bad.” He continued with the Frankenstein voice, but there was truth in what he said. He didn’t want this fire between him and Monica. It made it that much harder to stay away from her. It would make saying goodbye even worse.
The boys laughed. Owen rode his foot and Ethan wrapped his legs around Cash’s waist to stay on.
Just then his cell phone buzzed from within the mid-thigh side pocket of his cargo pants. He gently flipped Ethan over and onto the ground, and grabbed his phone. “Yeah?”
“Cash, good news. A team will be there at first light to get the driveway cleared. Your mom and I will be there by lunchtime.”
His heart sank as he glanced at Monica.
She tipped her head, looking concerned.
“Um, yeah, that’s good. Monica will be glad. Hey, I have two monkeys climbing on me who want to talk to you.”
“Is Owen—”
He cut her off. “No. Not yet.”
He heard his sister-in-law sigh. “Okay, put them on.”
He handed the phone to Ethan.
“Hi, Mom...”
Cash stepped toward Monica. “They’re coming to clear that tree first thing in the morning.”
Was it his imagination or did her eyes grow dim?
“Oh, okay. Good.” She gave him a wan smile.
This was it. Tomorrow they’d say their goodbyes and go their own ways. It was what they wanted, wasn’t it? Not really, not for him. He didn’t want that at all, but it’s what had to be.
He stepped closer. “Last night together. What do you want to do?”
She didn’t look away from him. “Burn these, then maybe some sparklers. They’re in the cabin somewhere. The boys might have fun with those.”
He slapped his forehead. “I have more.”
“More sparklers?”
“No. Fireworks,” he whispered. “I brought them to set off on the last night with the boys, but I think tonight would be better.”
With her.
This was their last night together and he wanted to make it memorable, but he didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize the solid friendship they already had.
“I don’t know, Cash. Will it be safe?”
He laughed. “I’ve blown up a lot of
stuff, so I can handle a few fireworks.”
More truth, but could he handle the fireworks simmering between him and Monica?
Chapter Eleven
Monica watched the limb pile burn from a respectable distance, but she could still feel the heat. “Don’t get too close. Owen, here, come by me.”
Owen backed up and stood next to her.
It hadn’t taken long for the leafy section of the pile to catch fire. The boys had cheered at the height of the flames shooting up into the sky. It was way higher than their little bonfire the other night. She didn’t want either of them to trip or fall anywhere near the blaze.
Ethan was sticking pretty close to Cash.
She’d heard the eight-year-old utter “this is so cool” at least a handful of times.
They’d built the huge pile well away from the cabin, in a wide patch of tall grass before the woods started. Cash had doused the still-green treetops with a little gas before throwing a match to get it started. He’d reminded her of a mad scientist circling the pile and drizzling it with gas from a little tin can. Now, they simply viewed the huge inferno from far enough away, in awe.
She glanced at Cash, who was staring into the flames with a crooked grin on his face. He loved it, too. Just like the boys. He looked up, caught her gaze and held it.
This was her last night at the cabin with Cash and his nephews. Bittersweet on so many levels, but the biggest takeaway was that Monica wanted a family of her own more than she ever had before. Maybe because of the risks that came with chemotherapy and the possibility of coming out on the other side with fertility issues. All that seemed amplified and way more real after this weekend. She truly ached for what she might not have.
It would also be the last time she’d see Cash Miller for a long, long while, and that hurt more than she’d thought possible.
He gave her a slight smile as if he could read her thoughts, and his expression turned somber.
“Can we roast marshmallows?” Ethan asked.
Monica laughed at the idea of trying to toast a puny marshmallow next to this inferno. “Maybe later.”
“After it burns down, we’ll rake the coals into a smaller pile. It’ll be perfect then.” Cash had the better answer.
How long would that be? They’d been outside for at least an hour or so finishing up the limb pile. The sun wouldn’t set for another two hours. Surely, Cash would arrange those fireworks before dark. Would he enlist the boys’ help or keep it a surprise?
His comment that he’d blown up much bigger things before served only to remind her of his return to combat and dangerous missions. As part of the 2nd Marine Raider Battalion, Cash was assigned places others couldn’t or wouldn’t go. She’d never liked the idea of him in harm’s way. She respected it, sure. She respected him even more for doing what many couldn’t, but it didn’t sit well and never would.
“Come on, boys, I have a job that I need your help with.” Cash walked around and handed her the sturdy bow rake. “I’ll take them out front to set up in the driveway. Keep an eye on the fire.”
Monica saluted. He might have an air of authority, but she knew the gentleness inside the hard exterior.
“Cute.”
She wanted to tell him that he was even cuter, but held her tongue. Flirting with him wasn’t wise. Neither was falling in love with him. Watching him walk away with the boys, she promised herself she’d find a way to rein those feelings back in, because she had to.
After staring into the flames for another ten minutes or so, she noticed the enormous fire had burned down some. It was still hot, but she could get close enough to push stray bits of branches and sticks up into the flames, banking the blaze and exposing a ring of scorched earth around the burning mound.
She stepped back, rested her elbow on the rake handle and waited for more of the limbs to burn down. She could just barely hear the voices of Cash and the boys. How long did it take to set up a few fireworks?
Again, Monica walked around the burning pile, pushing sticks and burned branches into it and then watching it burn back down. Working the pile had a calming effect, but her mind still raced. What would chemotherapy do to her? A necessary evil, and yet would she fully recover from it or would there be lingering side effects that cropped up later in life? Namely, the inability to conceive. What else might there be?
After another half hour or more, the mound was considerably smaller than when they’d started. She’d worked up a sweat along with a bad case of dread. She really didn’t want to do the whole cancer treatment thing, but there was no escaping it. Not for her.
At the sound of the slider opening and closing, Monica turned. Cash exited the cabin with a tray cluttered with pop cans, mustard, hot dogs and buns. Ethan followed with a chair, and behind him, Owen carried the bag of marshmallows.
Monica laid the rake down and dashed toward the little firepit in the yard to grab a couple more chairs. She needed to get her head back to simple pleasures, for now. “More hot dogs?”
Cash grinned. “I’m hungry.”
She set the chairs down and went for the last one, but Cash stalled her.
“I’ll get it. Roast me a hot dog?” He gave her begging puppy eyes. “Please.”
She couldn’t refuse that look. “Will do if you bring back the skewers from the firepit.”
She watched as he walked beyond the firepit and entered the pole barn.
Monica waited for him to return. “Didn’t you bring the long skewers with you?”
“Something even better.” From under his arm, he handed over the long handle of a campfire basket. She could roast a whole bunch of hot dogs. “Found it on the shelf. You might want to sterilize it in the flames.”
She rolled her eyes. Of course she would.
“I’m going to take Owen to find some long sticks,” Ethan said, standing a little taller.
“Okay.” Monica shared a look with Cash, who settled into the campfire chair he’d fetched along with a little stand for the tray.
He grabbed a soft drink can and opened the top. “Want one?”
She reached for the can and their fingers overlapped. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but she might as well have touched a live wire from the way her arm tingled.
Cash must have felt it, too, because he grabbed her wrist when she pulled away, causing pop to splash onto her thumb.
“Please stop.” Her voice came out low and raspy.
He let go, raising his hands in surrender. “Stop what?”
“You know what, and it won’t work.”
“I’ve been thinking about that—”
“How are these, Uncle Cash?” Ethan held up long, tender green branches still full of leaves.
Cash stepped away to help his nephew. “Those look pretty good.”
Grateful for the interruption, Monica grabbed the wire grill basket and poked it into the flames. Since when had Cash been thinking about them getting involved? He was crazy, and also tempting her beyond reason.
She would be crazy to entertain a future together.
Until she was cured of cancer, she couldn’t hold on to any hope for a life with this man, no matter how much she wanted one.
* * *
What was he doing? Cash was in no position to rethink anything. His circumstances hadn’t changed. His desire to lead his men without worries back home remained. Yet, deep down, he wanted a life with Monica. A bigger one than he had. He wanted to play their own game of life, ending up with a pink peg followed by a blue.
Maybe he always had. There. He’d finally admitted it. Didn’t mean he would act on it. Monica had been pretty clear about not wanting to be the wife of a marine. He glanced at her and admired the way she’d pulled her long ponytail into a messy bun at the top of her head. Some of the strands fell in wisps around her face. His gut twisted. Maybe she was right. It wouldn’t work
and they shouldn’t even try. There were too many risks.
Sitting around the fire waiting for it to get dark enough to light the fireworks out front, Cash polished off the last bite of his hot dog. He glanced at the boys, leaning back in their camp chairs. Both had smears of marshmallow all over their mouths. Their faces were dirty, too. Owen sported a soot streak that ran the length of his cheek.
“When are we going to shoot off the fireworks?” Ethan asked for the third time.
“Soon, buddy. The sun just set. Let’s give it a few minutes to get darker or else it’s not as good.” Cash stretched his legs toward the dwindling fire.
Monica kept up with raking the burned limbs into the fire, decreasing its size. They’d all inched their chairs closer to feel the heat and of course roast more marshmallows.
“Their mom comes tomorrow, right?” Monica held up the nearly empty bag of marshmallows.
Cash nodded. “Along with their grandma, my mom. Why?”
Monica smirked. “They ate a lot of these.”
“So?”
“So...look at them.” Monica lowered her voice to a whisper. “I hope they don’t get sick.”
Cash chuckled at the sight. The boys sank low, as if they couldn’t stuff another thing in their little bellies. “What’s to get sick on? It’s just air and—”
“Sugar,” the two adults said in unison.
Only Monica sounded accusatory, as if he should know better. He didn’t. What kind of father would he make when he looked forward to the next big thrill? Would having kids of his own dampen that? Would Monica? He’d never been a sit-at-home kind of guy and he didn’t see that ever changing. Although having a family meant that would have to change.
“They’ll be fine.” Cash waved away her concern. If they got sick, then next time they might not wolf down so many marshmallows.