“Hope is for those without skill, Aaron. I’m glad to see that you’re still…living your own simple life, but honestly for me, it complicates things when you call me to catch up. I’m doing great, point blank. I have a happy life. I have people that care about me. Parents that support me, and…friends.” Luke is on the tip of my tongue but I know I shouldn’t divulge that tidbit. He’ll recognize the name and someone else will know our dirty secret other than Marissa. I finally had to fess up to someone and she seemed like the most logical choice.
“Just seeing your face, being able to tell you congratulations in person is enough.”
I cast my eyes down to the bottom of my empty mug. “Tell everyone back in Arkansas I said hi. Hope you got what you came here for. Livestock or whatever.” As angry as it makes me, I truly hope I’m not looking at my future. It’s known that you always come back from deployment a little changed each time you ship out. To what degree differs from person to person. It’s not his fault he was taken as a prisoner of war—that he was declared dead while my mother was pregnant with me. It’s not his fault that his friend and teammate, Liam Dempsey, swooped in and fell in love with my mom and took his place. None of that is his fault, even if it doesn’t seem fair. Maybe that has to be good enough—something to hold on to. Aaron Gilcher did what he thought he had to do. I was a casualty of that.
Now, he is a casualty in my life. “Let me get the check,” he says, signaling for our waitress, wide, gnarled arm in the air. My purse vibrates and I dig out my phone while studying his profile. His nose flattens in at the bridge just like mine does. His neck is elongated, graceful almost, especially juxtaposed on his stout, wide body. I love my neck. It’s one of the few things I can call feminine on my frame. My gaze drops to the text.
Mom:You okay?
Aarabelle:Fine. Just cashing out now. Same old Aaron.
Mom:Don’t be too hard on him. He really went out on a limb to see you.
Her response is not what I want or need to see. I roll my eyes so far back in my head I can see my brain.
Aarabelle:Yeah, he really goes out of his way for me. Tell me more bedtime stories, Mom. Tell Dad I’ll be over for dinner. He asked at work today if I was going to make it and I wasn’t sure how long this extravaganza was going to last.
Mom: Dad told me you’re living at Hart’s house,
Aara. His bachelor mansion by the sea.
My mom’s response is direct and to the point.
Aarabelle:Oh, good. One less thing we have to dwell on during dinner.
Mom: Your track record in relationship making decisions lacks…something. I only mention it because I talked to your ex today.
That gets my heart pumping.
Aarabelle: What did he say?
Mom: We hashed out some details about his tour, and then he casually asked how you were doing. Where you were staying. He really wants to talk to you. He’s my client so it’s part of my job to keep him happy, but I flipped the script and didn’t give him anything on you. Maybe if you talked to him and told him where you stand, he would accept his fate?
Aarabelle: Are you asking me for a favor? Can’t even wait to do it in person either. I told you about the conversation I had with Henry in my parking lot. He is delusional, Mom. Out in the stratosphere fishing for God knows what. I don’t know what else I could possibly tell him that would make him accept his fate. He made the final decision in our relationship. Not me.
Aaron clears his throat. I look up from my phone. “Mom says hi.”
“Tell her hi back.” I do, a quick text and drop it into my bag. “I know you don’t need anything from me, Aarabelle. You never did.” His voice is gravelly, full of something. “Sometimes when you heal from something big and tragic, parts and pieces don’t go back the way they were before. That was the case for me. I make no excuses.” His throat works as he swallows and I have to look away. The emotion in his eyes makes me uneasy. “Letting go of everything and starting over was hard.” He steeples his hands on the table in front of him. “You’re old enough now that an apology won’t mean anything to you, but it will for me. I’m sorry for not being there for you.”
Of course, it means something to me. I was confused for a long time about who I came from and why I wasn’t enough for him to stay in my life. “You don’t know what will mean something to me.” I focus on his hands to keep my voice from shaking. His fingers have white scars cutting in different directions. “I appreciate the explanation.”
“You are everything I hoped you’d turn out to be, Aarabelle.” My name on his lips sounds unnatural. I wonder how long it’s been since he’s spoken it. “I don’t care if you’re angry at me for the rest of your life because I know the right man raised you and he did it well.”
A lump in my throat rises. “He did. But honestly, what does that say about your other kids?”
“That I was good enough to raise them, but not good enough to raise you.”
It sounds like bullshit, but he’s trying right now. For the first time in my life he’s trying to do something right by me. “Oh.”
“Oh?” he counters.
“Yeah, I figured we would catch each other up on life and be done with it. This, uh, talk is unexpected, though I assumed one day you’d fill me in.”
He hangs his head. “There is actually one more thing.”
“Go on.” I gather my bag onto my shoulder when the waitress comes back with his change and heads away to a table adjacent to us to refill waters.
“When I saw those pictures on the internet of you and that…guy.” Thank God he doesn’t say his name. “I thought maybe I could give you advice on something no one else can.”
