I shook my head.
She’d asked me the same thing every day I’d been home. She knew I couldn’t cook much more than mac and cheese from a box. It had never been my strong suit. That was all Bee. My middle sister was like the offspring of Martha Stewart and Reese Witherspoon combined. Perfect in ways that seemed almost comical. The only thing not perfect about her life was her weasel of a husband.
“You barely eat anything,” Mom said. It wasn’t true. I was eating. I loved to eat. It was more like she felt the need to cook for me, as if mothering me was going to fix all the pieces of my life that were still bouncing around. She took out the cornmeal. “I’m making cornbread for dinner, but I can whip up some cornmeal pancakes if you want.”
It was close to lunchtime, but cornmeal pancakes were comfort food, and I was tempted to let her do it. Then, I shook my head. “Honestly, I’m good. Gabi and Bee have the entire day planned. I wouldn’t want to ruin my appetite for whatever it is they have on deck.”
“I forgot you were spending the day with your sisters. I’m glad.”
What she didn’t add on was that she was glad to see me emerge from the house for something besides working out. What I really wanted to do was lie in bed with my computer and finish binge-watching the new season of Fighting for the Stars that I’d missed while wrapping up things on The Hill. But I’d promised Gabi a girls’ night.
I kissed Mom on the cheek and headed upstairs to shower and get ready.
I stared into my closet, trying to find an outfit that would not only go from the nail salon to shopping to Friday night out but was also in a color that would ward off Bee and her criticisms. It was a lot to expect of one outfit. My phone buzzed.
MAC: Have you heard from Tristan?
ME: Not today, why?
Tristan had come back to Delaware last year after losing her husband, Darren, on a black op with his SEAL team. Even though I hadn’t known her well, I’d given her my number so she wouldn’t feel quite so alone. Having her parents in the same town as her was a blessing and a curse, because sometimes you just couldn’t tell your parents what you were really feeling. Like me with my mom. I would never tell her about my nightmares because I couldn’t put her through the same what-ifs that I lived with daily.
MAC: Nash almost got court-martialed.
My brain stalled, as it always did, on Nash’s name. Thoughts of the dark-haired, green-eyed SEAL were good at raising goosebumps on my flesh. His square jaw and hooded gaze had burned themselves into my brain from the very first moment we’d met. It was completely and absolutely the wrong reaction because, as Mac’s friend, there was no way I could justify a night of hot and heavy with him. Even when a night of steam was exactly what I needed.
I shook my head clear of the tan-skinned warrior’s image in order to focus on the court-martial.
ME: What happened?
MAC: He hit one of his new team members yesterday.
The SEALs were Nash’s life, and if they kicked him out after everything he’d gone through since losing his best friend and teammate, he’d really be a mess.
ME: Did they discharge him?
MAC: No. He has to see a psychiatrist to sign off on his mental state, and they put him back on training duty until a new spot comes open on a team.
ME: Nash actually told you all this?
MAC: No! HE DIDN’T. I’ve been trying to get hold of him, but he hasn’t responded to any of my texts or calls.
The only place Nash would be was with Tristan.
ME: I’ll text her and let you know what I hear.
I sat down on my bed, thumbing out the message.
ME: Hey, lady. Did you wind up with an unwanted guest last night?
TRISTAN: ** Eyeroll GIF ** How did you know?
ME: Mac is worried about him.
TRISTAN: Tell Mac he can have him.
I knew she didn’t mean it. She loved Nash in her own way. As much as she wouldn’t admit it, I thought he and the baby were the only reasons she’d survived the last year.
ME: Tell him to call my brother before Mac loses his shit.
TRISTAN: Who’s going to keep me from losing my shit?
If she came out with my sisters and me, it would give her a momentary escape from the broody man. Plus, I’d have an excuse to bail when Bee pushed all my buttons.
ME: Is he in any shape to watch Hannah? Or can you get your mom to watch her?
TRISTAN: My parents are in Florida with my sister. I don’t know about Nash, why?
ME: My sisters are dragging me out to a girls’ night.
TRISTAN: Aw. Good. You need to let loose.
ME: Um. You’ve met my sisters. It’s hardly going to be a stand-on-the-bar-and-shake-your-butt-in-a-guy’s-face kind of night.
TRISTAN: ** Falling on the floor laughing GIF ** I can’t imagine you doing any of that.
ME: Come meet up with us. Pleeeeasssseee.
TRISTAN: I don’t really feel up to a night out.
Like this was anything new. I wasn’t sure she’d done anything for herself in the year since Darren had been gone. But I could also, one hundred percent, empathize with it.
ME: Me either! This is why I need you! We can bail early.
TRISTAN: I don’t think it’s a good idea.
ME: I promise I’ll have you home before ten.
No response. I didn’t want to push, but I’d be happy to have her along. She’d be enough of a distraction to keep Bee from harping on me, and that would keep me from saying something I couldn’t take back.
I was in and out of
