“Do you think you did?” she asked softly.
“No.” His voice was harsher than she’d ever heard him. “Look at the headlines. We didn’t change a damn thing over there. We tried, but we didn’t understand them and they didn’t understand us. I made friends, but I never knew if it was pretense. God, all I wanted was to come home.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.”
“Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment. “My best friend over there lost a leg. I suppose I felt guilty I came home whole.”
“Did you?”
He laughed, if gruffly. “Maybe not.”
“The soldiers we send are so young,” Molly said. “Kids.”
“This once the Humvee I was in drove over an IED.” He paused. “You know what…?”
“An improvised explosive device.”
“Yeah. Cut right through the armor. Turned it to shrapnel. Killed the guy sitting next to me. He was eighteen years old.”
“Eighteen.” She grappled with that. “How old were you?”
“By then I was a real man. In my twenties.”
She was smiling, although she didn’t know how she could, as sad as she felt. “A father figure.”
“Something like that.” And she heard his smile, too. “I’ve never talked about any of this with someone who wasn’t there. No, that isn’t true. I tried with Lexa, when I came home that first time. She didn’t want to hear it.”
“Listening, isn’t that one of the most important things we can do for each other?”
It was hard to interpret his silences, but she relaxed when he answered. “I’m starting to think so.”
Today was a rare, almost warm day, weird considering Thursday was Thanksgiving. The holiday hung over Molly, who had come to think of it as D-day for Cait. Or D-week, anyway. She was nine weeks right now. She had to make a decision.
I will not think about that today.
Molly had picked up deli sandwiches and met Richard at the riverfront park. She felt almost daring, sneaking away from school to meet him in person. The “in person” part made her a little giddy, which she wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know.
He got out of his Ward Electrical van when she pulled in next to him. Despite the sunshine, he put on a parka over his dark green uniform shirt, and she tucked gloves in the pocket of her own parka. He’d brought the coffee—plain and dark for him, a frothy latte for her. She bent and inhaled the steam before smiling at him.
“This was a good idea.”
“You say that now, but you may be shivering in a half hour.”
“If I am, we can sit in the car,” she pointed out reasonably.
They walked past the playground, where a young mother was pushing a toddler on a swing, then across short, damp grass to one of the benches that overlooked the river. It was running high and brown with snowmelt from higher in the mountains, but was still some feet below flood stage.
Molly laid out their food between them and accepted her cup, taking an appreciative sip. “This is so much better than a brown bag lunch at my desk.”
He made a sound of agreement. “Or a burger in the van.”
“Fast food’s not good for you.”
Richard laughed. “I do try to go a little easier on the grease than I used to.”
“I suppose not having anyone else to cook for cuts down on the incentive.”
“You could say that.” He sighed and stretched out his legs, stacking one booted foot on the other. “I’ve been trying a little harder since Trevor arrived, but he’s walked out on so damn many meals, it’s a little discouraging.”
“Still?”
He sipped his coffee before answering. “Not as often.”
“That’s good.” She hesitated. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s good. Sometimes I think he’s mellowed toward me, then something happens and it’s like a lit fuse. I don’t know what to think.”
“Does he talk to his mother at all?”
“Not according to her.” He unwrapped his sandwich.
“Do you talk to her often?” Belatedly, she thought, Not my business.
“No.” His gaze fixed on the river, face unreadable. “We don’t have much to say to each other.” About the time Molly was wondering if she’d been warned off, he spoke again. “You and your ex?”
“Heavens, no! I haven’t talked to him in years beyond saying ‘yes, Cait is here’ and passing on the phone. And not even that in a long time.”
“Years?” He glanced at her, some lines having deepened on his forehead. Not a frown, but…something. “You said he doesn’t see much of Cait, but I wondered if you’d told him…”