Reckless Hero

While listening to Mrs. James sniffing and sobbing, my eyes stayed glued on Tucker. He was my boyfriend and I loved him. It was his job to take care of his mom, but it was my job to take care of him.

The only problem was I didn’t know how.

I crossed the kitchen and set to work brewing a pot of coffee. In moments of crisis, people needed something to do with their hands, and wrapping them around a warm coffee mug seemed like a good idea.

I made the coffee, carried three mugs to the table, and filled each one, sliding two of them toward Tucker and his mom.

“Thank you, Anna,” Mrs. James said weakly, although she didn’t touch the coffee. My feelings weren’t hurt though, for I hadn’t expected her to drink it in the first place.

When she finally pulled away from Tucker, his eyes were still dry. His face was set hard, not a single sign of pain or weakness to be found. I knew he was putting on a good face for his mom, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last. All I knew was that I wanted to be there when he broke so that I could help him through it.

“Why don’t you go home?” Tucker said to me, though not unkindly. He didn’t exactly sound kind though either. His words were simply firm. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I can stay,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

“No.” He shook his head. “We’re fine.”

“But-”

“Go home, Anna,” he said, cutting me off. His voice turned hard. “I don’t need you here.”

I flinched as if he had stricken me, stunned by his sudden impatience. He had never spoken to me like that before.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he continued, without looking at me. He then turned back to his mom.

I hesitated, not knowing what to do or say. “Okay,” I eventually choked out and nodded, although his back faced me.

I stood and took a few reluctant steps toward the front door. Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew better than to start an argument with Tucker at such a moment. He was going through enough, and I loved him enough to give him the space he needed even though it broke my heart.

The following morning, he never called.

***

The funeral was hard.

Savage’s one and only church was positioned in the center of town and it was packed that day. People crammed themselves into the pews and when those were full, they stood against the walls. The doors remained open throughout the service so that more people could listen from outside.

I sat with Tucker and his mom in the front row, holding Tucker’s hand while the preacher spoke about Mr. James. He went on and on about Aaron James being a war hero and his medals and accomplishments were listed in chronological order.

Everyone murmured their appreciation. I nodded along with them, but couldn’t bring myself to speak. My tongue felt like it was cemented to the roof of my mouth and I knew if I forced it free, I would start crying.

The last thing Tucker needed was to feel like he had to take care of me; he had his hands full with his mom already.

When the service ended, everyone moved along to the burial.

I forced myself to hold it together while we traveled to the cemetery. As Mrs. James was handed a folded flag, she succumbed again to violent sobs. Tucker held her tightly while I silently stood beside them.

For a week, I tried everything I could to be there for Tucker. Yet, he never wanted to talk. And even when I was content to just sit silently with him, he would tell me to leave.

Whenever I brought him food, he wouldn’t eat it.

No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough for him to let me in. I felt useless and devoid of hope, but I pushed on, knowing he needed me, even if he wouldn’t say it.

/> As the funeral ended, the guests began to file out of the cemetery, Tucker and I watched them get into their cars and drive away. There was going to be a wake at Tucker’s house, but he wasn’t in any hurry to get there.

Mrs. James had left with her sister, leaving Tucker and I alone at the gravesite. I held his hand tightly while he stared at his father’s casket. When I glanced at him, I saw that he had finally succumbed to his tears.

He cried silently as the cemetery personnel lowered his father into the ground. They’d told us we didn’t have to stay for that part, but Tucker wouldn’t move, so neither did I.