“He got hitched.”
“You figure he’s just trying to save the company or is he really in love with that girl?”
“I don’t know. He’s pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing.”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me,” Betty said, coming in with a plate of cake that she set on the table. She went back into the kitchen and I knew from experience there was no point in asking if I could help. She came back out with two cups of coffee. Mine, I knew, would be made just the way I liked. A little milk. Heaps of sugar. “I got one of those tight-lipped men living in this trailer. Swear Sam came back from that party last night slamming doors like they’d offended him.”
I barely flinched when she said his name, and I forced myself not to think what had happened with me was what had made him so upset. The news of the marriage, of course. He was upset about that. We were all upset about that.
“Does he love her?” Betty asked. “Your brother?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think he likes her a lot. I just hope she doesn’t hurt him.” My biggest fear for him was that he’d end up in a marriage like my parents’. As far as I could tell, Penny was nothing like my mother, but living your life without love…man, that could turn anyone hostile.
For a second, the ache of Sam’s hands on my body squeezed my stomach. How stupid I’d been to believe for even a moment that I could have love and sex like that with my brother’s best friend. Who got that, really?
“You all right, honey?” Betty asked, putting her hand over mine.
“Good. Just, you know, thinking about Wes.”
“Well, let’s only think good thoughts,” Betty said, doing what she always did and pushing us into positive territory. Suddenly I remembered coming over here with Wes when I was younger. It had been Sam’s first deployment and I’d been frantic with worry—couldn’t stop crying. Carrying on like the guy was already hurt somewhere instead of just getting yelled at in basic training. Betty had sat me down on her big, saggy floral couch and told Wes to make me some hot chocolate, and she let me cry and say out loud all the things I was scared of.
“Now that you’ve said all that,” she’d whispered. “Let’s say all the good things we want to happen to him.”
And we’d filled our heads and our hearts with good things. Until we were laughing and my tears were dry and Wes came out with hot cocoa he’d barely stirred so it was all chewy.
“I’d like him to love Penny. And for her to love him,” I said. “Real love, you know?”
She nodded, and I realized that between my parents and Betty’s own terrible relationship with Sam’s father, we didn’t actually have much proof of “real love.”
“I just want my brother to be happy,” I said.
“Happy sounds good,” she said. “We could use a little bit of that around this home, too.”
I tried real hard not to perk right up. But the fact that Betty was talking about Sam meant he was not here. I rested easy in my chair and took a sip of my perfect coffee. “Sam’s not happy?”
“He’s just at loose ends, I think. I don’t know that he spent much time thinking about what he would do after serving. And now here we are.” She looked up at me and there was something so still in her that I set down my coffee.
“He’s not going back?”
She shook her head.
“Is it because of the injury?”
“It’s his story to tell and I won’t say anything more, but I’m worried, and since you two are such good friends I think you should know, too.”
“You’re freaking me out, Betty.”
“He has nightmares,” she whispered. “Insomnia. And he’s short-tempered and he won’t let me hug him. Or help him.”
“PTSD?”
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “For about five years. But this is something else…”
Grief and worry settled in my stomach. There was a cost to what the country asked Sam to do. What he’d signed up to do. And I hated that that cost was so high. And I hated that what had happened during the party made our friendship so strange and maybe…maybe impossible too?
Fuck. I thought. Just…fuck.
“Come on, enough sad things. He’s home. Your brother is married.”
“You have cake!”
“I have cake!” Betty said, lifting her hands in the air, and suddenly we were both laughing. Because we had amazing things to be grateful for, not the least of which was each other.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling emotional.
“Thank you, honey,” she said, grabbing my hand. “All these years coming out here when you didn’t have to. Bringing me the angels, giving me things to look forward to. You’ve been a blessing.”