Betrayal

And in fact, all Nolan knew about Evan Scholler was that he'd sustained a serious head wound from the last grenade they had taken and, by the time Nolan had flown out of Baghdad, still hadn't been expected to live. He might in fact already have died, although Nolan suspected that if that had happened, Tara would have heard about it from somebody.

But whatever had happened to Evan, nearly three months had passed. Tara had moved on. For Ron Nolan, there just didn't seem to be any benefit to talking any more about it.

She was standing in front of the artichokes in the vegetable aisle of the grocery store, two days after the start of her school's Christmas vacation. The canned music coming in to keep everybody merry and bright had just changed from the ridiculous to the sublime-the Chipmunks' version of 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree' segueing rather inharmoniously into Aaron Neville singing 'O Holy Night.' The latter had been her and Evan's favorite recording of any Christmas song, and suddenly, hearing the first notes, Tara 's mind had gone blank. Looking down at the bins of produce arrayed in front of her, she suddenly had no idea why she was here, or what she wanted to buy.

Unconsciously, her hand came up to cover her mouth, and she sighed deeply through her fingers, her eyes welling beyond all reason. 'God,' she whispered to herself.

' Tara? Is that you?'

Letting out another breath, she started out of her reverie. 'Eileen?'

Evan's mother was still quite attractive, and Tara had always thought it was not so much about her trim body or her pleasant, vaguely Nordic facial features, but because she exuded kindness. In Eileen Scholler's world, everybody was equal and everybody was good, even if the rest of humanity didn't think so, and she was going to like you and treat you fairly and gently no matter what. Now, her head cocked birdlike to one side, she frowned with concern. 'Are you all right? You look like you're about to faint.'

'That's what I feel like.' Tara tried to put on a smile but knew it must look forced. 'Wow. I don't know what just happened.' Bracing herself against her shopping cart, she again forced an unfelt brightness. 'Stress, I'm sure. The season. But how are you? You don't shop here normally, do you? But it's so good to see you.'

'I was on my way home from work and remembered I needed some veggies. But I'm glad I stopped here now. It's so good to see you too.' Her expression grew wistful. 'We've missed you, you know.'

Tara nodded, sober. 'I've missed you too. I really have.'

'Yes, well, I don't think you children realize what you put us poor parents through when you break up with each other. Here we were, considering you all but the daughter we never had, and the next thing you know, you're not in our lives anymore. It's the saddest thing.'

'I know,' Tara said. 'I'm so sorry. I never meant that to be part of it.'

'I know, dear, it's nobody's fault. It's just one of life's little heartbreaks. Or as Jim says, it's just another FOG.' Lowering her voice, she came closer. 'Fucking opportunity for growth. Pardon my French.'

'It's pardoned. How is Evan, by the way?'

'Well, we still worry, of course, but he seems all right. There are still some issues, but we're going out to see him for Christmas, so we'll have a better idea how he's doing after that.'

'You're going to see him for Christmas?'

'Yes. We're flying over next week.'

'To Iraq?'

For an instant, Eileen Scholler went completely still. 'No, dear.' Her eyes narrowed-was Tara kidding her?- although the kindness remained in them. 'To Walter Reed.'

'Walter…'

'You didn't hear? I was sure you must have heard. In fact, I was a little bit annoyed, to be honest, that you never called us. If I'd have known you didn't know, I would have-'

Tara waved her off. 'That doesn't matter, Eileen. Heard what? Did something happen to Evan over there?'

'He was wounded,' she said, 'this past summer. Badly, in the head. He was nearly killed.'

'Oh, my God.' Suddenly her legs felt as though they weren't going to support her. She tightened her grip on the shopping cart, looked plaintively at Eileen. 'What happened?'

'They got attacked someplace in Baghdad. Most of his squadron was killed. They were all from the Peninsula. It was everywhere in the papers and on the news. Didn't you see anything about it?'

'I stopped reading all of those articles, Eileen, and watching the news on TV. It says Iraq and I tune out. I just can't stand it. I figured if anything happened to Evan, I'd hear about it. I couldn't face the news every day.'

'Well, fortunately, he wasn't killed, and that's all they seem to report. It's like the wounded don't count. So you might never have seen his name anyway. But his squad…those poor boys.'

'All of them died?'

'All but one, I believe. Two, counting Evan.'

'Oh, God, Eileen, I am so sorry. How is he now?'

'Getting better every day. He's making more sense when he talks on the phone. The doctors won't say for sure, of course, but his lead neurologist predicts that Evan might be one of the very, very few to recover almost completely. Though it's probably going to be a while.'

'He's what, doing therapy?'

'Every day. Physical and mental. But as I say, he's really coming along now. For a few weeks there, after he first arrived, we didn't even dare hope for that, so this is all really good news. Once they decided he was eligible for therapy, it's been better.'

'Why wouldn't he have been eligible?'

Eileen pursed her lips. 'There was some question about whether he'd had something to drink before he went out on his last convoy. Nobody said he was drunk, but…anyway, they had to clear that up first. If he was in fact under the influence, he might not have been eligible for benefits.'

'Even though he was shot?'

Eileen took a calming breath. 'He wasn't shot, Tara. It was a grenade.'

That news stopped her briefly. 'Okay, but even so, they weren't going to treat him?'

'If he'd been drunk, maybe not. Or not right away, anyway. And we've learned time is everything with his kind of injuries, believe me.'

But Tara was still reeling from the revelation. 'I can't believe they really might not have treated him. How could he not be eligible for benefits if he got wounded in a war zone?'

'It's one of the great mysteries, dear, but don't get me started on how they're treating some of those other poor wounded boys at Walter Reed. It's atrocious. But-you'll really love this-even after they ruled that he was eligible for benefits, the Army made it one of the conditions of Evan's treatment that he wouldn't complain about conditions at Walter Reed to the media or anybody else.' She laid a hand on Tara 's arm, forced a tepid smile. 'So the thing to do now is be grateful that they're finally helping him, and we are.'

'You are a way better person than I'd be, Eileen.'

'I don't know about that. It's the only way I know how to be. Of course it's frustrating and terrible, but at least Evan's getting better now. I don't see how making a stink at this point would do anybody any good.'

Closing her eyes, Tara blew out her frustration. She didn't believe Eileen was right-she thought that making a stink might in fact help things improve. But suddenly the country's culture seemed to have shifted to where everybody was afraid to make a stink about anything-it meant they weren't patriotic. It meant they supported the terrorists. And this whole mentality was, to her mind, just stupid.

But she wasn't going to get in yet another argument about this ongoing and disastrous war-not with Eileen, not with Ron Nolan, not with anybody else. At least it appeared that, bad though it might have been, the worst medical part of Evan's ordeal was over. 'So he's been there how long now?' she asked.

'About three months. We hope he'll be coming home in a couple more, but we're afraid to move him too quickly. At least he's got quality care now, and we don't want to rush his recovery. When he comes back, we want him all the way back, you know?' Eileen's serene gaze settled on her might-have-been daughter-in-law. 'And how about you, Tara? How have you been?'