Please God, no, don’t let it be him.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jude
“Sounds like it’s time to go home, wayward son,” Tommy said, tipping his chin at the bartender who set two more beers in front of us before he moved on to a group of guys who looked like they belonged at a college frat party.
“Sounds that way.”
I’d just gotten off the phone with my mom and had promised that I would. My dad was strong as an ox and stayed physically fit so it had been a shock to hear that he’d not only had a heart attack but had needed a triple bypass. She assured me that the surgery had gone well but her worried tone suggested that she needed me there. She hadn’t called me until he came out of surgery which ensured that she could deliver good news. Meanwhile, I’d been sitting in a bar with no clue that my old man was in surgery.
Not sure why that should bother me but it did. Had this happened years ago, I would have been my mom’s first phone call.
I took a pull of my beer and tried not to think about what awaited me back in Cypress Springs, Texas.
Memories. A cruel mistress that I’d been courting for six long years.
My gaze drifted from the Route 66 signs on the paneled wall to a brunette in cowboy boots and cut-offs sitting at a tall table by the window. When she caught me watching her, she crossed her legs and gave me a big smile. Blue eyes met mine instead of green. Her face was oval, not heart-shaped. I averted my gaze before she got the wrong idea.
I was always looking for Lila. In every bar. On every street corner.
I used to see her everywhere. I even saw her in Nepal when me and Tommy went over to Kathmandu to help with the disaster relief efforts after an earthquake. I chased the girl down the street and tapped her on the shoulder. Of course, it wasn’t Lila. I’d left her in our bed in Texas two years before that.
“You’re thinking about her again,” Tommy said. A statement, not a question. “Ready to see her?”
“Doesn’t sound like I have much choice. I’m bound to run into her.” Run into her. What a fucking joke. She was as much a part of the family as I was. More so at this point.
Tommy knew all about Lila. The guys in my unit used to give me shit for talking about her so much but I never cared.
Tommy and I were together during my third deployment to Afghanistan, his second. We were the lucky ones. I’d cheated death so many times I’d lost count.
And here we were. Alive. In a bar in Phoenix, drinking beers to the tune of “Beast of Burden” blasting from the jukebox, voices escalated to be heard over the music and the ruckus of the frat boys slamming tequila shots and talking shit.
Now it was time to go back and deal with my past. I didn’t fool myself into thinking that my future was still waiting for me there. I knew it wasn’t.
One day at a time. That was how I lived my life now.
Breathe in. Breathe out. And most days, that was enough.
“How long do you think you’ll stay?” Tommy asked, running his hand over his sandy blond hair. He still wore it in a buzzed cut, claiming it was easier.
Even if he didn’t have the eagle, globe and anchor tattooed on his bicep, you would still know he was a Marine. Tommy looked like one of those GI Joe action figures.
“My mom asked me to run my dad’s construction business.” She’d been hinting at wanting me to take over the business for years now. I’d been dodging it.
I didn’t want to get stuck in my hometown. Not now that everything had gone to shit. What kind of fresh hell would that be?
“Maybe it’s time you think about that.”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
“You’ve been hitting it hard for years. Time to take a break. Stop and change your socks.”
“My boots are dry.” I took another swig of beer.
“You know what I’m saying.”
“Haven’t seen you taking a break.”
“I live for natural disasters and chaos. While others run from it...”
“We run straight into the middle of it,” I finished.
Which was why we’d set up a veteran-led disaster response organization. We worked with thousands of volunteers committed to the same goals as us. I’d always wanted to serve my country and I was continuing to do so.
Our motto at Team Phoenix was that we were there for people on their worst day. Ironic that I was there for people who were strangers to me yet I’d failed my own family and I’d failed Lila. All I’d ever wanted was to be the hero in her story. Instead, I’d become the villain.
It took me two days to organize my life in Phoenix. If you could call it a life. I hadn’t accumulated much in the way of material possessions. Everything I owned fit in two duffel bags that I threw into the back of my truck.
I left Phoenix at seven in the evening and drove straight through. One thousand miles. Fourteen hours. When I arrived at the hospital, I changed into a clean white T-shirt, tossed the coffee-stained one into my duffel, and texted my mom from the parking lot.
The elevator opened and I stepped out of it and right into my mother’s open arms. She was a world class hugger and she held on tight, not letting me go until she was good and ready. Her lavender scent was warm and comforting, a reminder that as much as life changed, some things remained the same.
When she finally released me, she held me at arm’s length, her bright blue eyes studying my face before she gifted me with a brilliant smile. Other than a few more lines around her eyes and deeper laugh lines etched
