“Nothing
“Well, I guess you file again and hope for the spring.”
He ignored that. “All these months, since even before we left, I thought we were going back for the fall. They let me register and everything. And all this time, there’s been no hope.”
“That sucks, bro,” said Elias in a monotone. “I’d transfer you my GI Bill credit if I could, but they don’t let you.”
Cade set his hands on his hips and looked at the basket of clothes at my feet. “I’ll get a job down there, is what I’ll do. Just have to try harder. Because I am
“Can’t blame you,” said Elias. But Cade was already heading out the back door, throwing it open so brusquely that the walls trembled. I rose from the chair, tugging my shirt down to cover my cumbersome belly, and made my way outside, taking my time to let him cool off a little. I found Cade leaning against the shed, smoking a cigarette and glaring into the middle distance. He didn’t so much as glance at me as I approached, yet once I had set my own back against the shed in a little gesture of solidarity, he started speaking.
“We gotta get out of here, Jill,” he said. “I never would have moved back up here if I’d thought it would cut my ties this badly. I thought it was strategic, you know? Saving money so that in the fall everything would go smooth. And it’s not working out like that at all.”
“I’m sorry about the work-study.” I turned my head to see him in profile: still so handsome, still the golden boy, but with a restless, hollow look around his eyes that hadn’t been there a few months before. “Isn’t there any way around it?”
“No.” He flicked the cigarette away half-smoked, as if he was embarrassed to be caught by me. “I’m so pissed.
He slid his back down the side of the shed until he sat crouched in the scrubby grass, his knees pulled up tight against him. “That baby,” he said. “It’ll all be worth it, right? This’ll all make sense once it gets here.”
“That’s what everybody says,” I agreed. To make him smile, I added, “Candy says so. This one and the next twenty after it.”
He rewarded me with a grin that looked genuine, if a little tired. “Soon as you get better from having the baby, we’re gone. I promise I’ll have a job by then. And I know I need to focus on getting that appointment for Elias, too. It’s just so weird that they built him up into this big brave guy and now he flips out at the drop of a hat.”
I knew Cade meant well, but it wasn’t Eli’s bouts of anxiety that had me so worried. It ate at me, this sense that Elias was the type of person who would sit there calmly smoking and watching TV until the day Dodge made one comment too many; he would finish off the pack of cigarettes, or let the movie run to the credits, then walk over to the Powell house and shoot everyone in their sleep. Cade might think I was being fantastical and morbid, but things like that happened. They happened all the time. When I thought about my mother’s story about the almond trees—how she had found herself in just the right place at just the right time to see the light shine down on a truth that would change our lives—I couldn’t help but believe there was a purpose to our being here. Maybe we were the only two people in the world who could contain a disaster, here in this place, here at this time.
“He needs to go see a regular doctor, too,” Cade added. “Go in and get the come-to-Jesus talk about his weight. Because, seriously, it can’t be good for you to get that fat, that fast. I’d be glad to take him out running so he can look a little better, but I can’t until he backs off eating like it’s a state fair contest.”
I grinned—not at the insult, but at how unsurprising it was for Cade to think Elias would be happier if he made himself more attractive. I said, “I’ll coax him into going if you make him the appointment.”
“Deal. I’ll make it tomorrow.” He sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Right after I send out thirty more resumes.”
The next day, as promised, Cade called the VA hospital and made an appointment for Elias on the next available date, which wasn’t for two weeks. As soon as it was booked, I started looking for a natural opportunity to bring it up with Elias. The first one came on an evening when Dodge had left for the range with his gun-club buddies and the rest of the family, except for a dozing Eddy, were at midweek church. Cade made himself scarce when he saw me hovering around Elias. He knew how to take a hint.
As soon as I sat down beside him, Elias switched the channel to
“I thought you hated this show.”
“It’s grown on me. Makes my own family seem normal.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I always figured that’s why my mom liked it, too.”
On the screen Kendra was speaking emphatically to the unseen interviewer, explaining why she felt she was ready to be released.
“It’s sad, you know?” said Elias. “Five years she’s burned up in that place. Her kid barely knows her. Looks like about the only skill she’s got is surviving prison. Not something you can transfer to civilian life.”
“She seems pretty resourceful. She’ll probably find a way.”
He watched in silence, exhaling a slow trail of smoke. The heating pad rested against his thigh, its little red indicator light aglow. “You know, all that time I was over there, I figured I’d come home and get married pretty quick. I’d have some kids, buy a house maybe down in Liberty Gorge. It seemed easy, like a board game. Get off the plane, roll the die again. Figure out how many spaces you get to move.”
“You’ve only been back for, like, seven months, though. There’s plenty of time for all that. Who’d you expect to marry?”
“No particular person. I figured it would just sort of happen, the way everything else does. The natural progression. But I guess everything looks easier from a distance. Unless you’re Cade.” He rolled his shoulders and rested his head back against the chair, gazing up at the ceiling. “If you’re Cade, you can just skate straight on through all of it.”
“You know that’s not true. Cade and I wouldn’t be here if it was.”
“It’s a minor glitch. It’s not the first one he’s had. He flounces and cries and thinks the world’s going to end, and after you shower him with pity he ends up walking out of it without a bruise. It’s the way he is. Sometimes I envy it so bad I want to knock him out. I could live a long time on just a taste of that kind of life.”
The television showed a clip from a boisterous
He shot the quickest of glances at me. His eyes flashed surprise. “I’m not going.”
“Why not? It’s no big deal. I’ll drive. You’ll get some better meds, I’ll get a chance to get out of Frasier for a few hours—we both win. I’ll buy you lunch. Get you something other than Candy’s grilled cheese.”
“No chance.”
“It’s not until next Wednesday. Sleep on it. We’ll see how you feel once it rolls around.”
“I’m going to feel like shit once it rolls around,” he replied, his voice getting tighter. “Same as every day. Dodge had the nerve to say he’s taking me to work at the U-Store-It next week so I can stop ‘freeloading.’ Asshole.
“Just ignore him. Everybody else does.”
Elias grunted a reply. I stood up and rubbed his tense shoulders, and after a few moments he released a deep, slow breath.
“Your muscles cramp up when you stay in one position for too long,” I told him. “I think that’s why your back
