Sailor Proof (Shore Leave 1) - Page 81
I’d always assumed I’d be lonely and angry. But I didn’t feel abandoned, even if I was still unhappy with how we’d parted. Derrick didn’t have a choice here. I, however, did, and I spent most of my time obsessing over what to do, the choice he’d left me with.
“You’re cranky.” Mom passed Oliver a platter of uncooked burgers before coming to stand next to me. “You need a distraction.”
“A distraction?” Frowning, I leaned back against the deck rail.
“Something to take your mind off the wait,” Mom said patiently like I hadn’t tried every new show on my various streaming apps as a way to make it through the way-too-quiet nights.
“I sew,” Stacey volunteered.
“I tiled two bathrooms last deployment,” added Roger’s wife, Veronica.
Oh. I was in this club now, partners left in limbo, united by a shared understanding of exactly how awful waiting was, and I wasn’t sure I wanted membership. Or advice.
“I don’t need a new hobby.” I crossed my arms. “I’ve had several new contracts the last few weeks. Work keeps me busy.”
What I didn’t have, however, was a Derrick to share all that news with, and no amount of keeping my hands busy could help with that.
“It’s okay to admit you’re sad and that you miss him.” Stacey patted my tense shoulder. “But he wouldn’t want you all cranky.”
Wouldn’t he? That was an excellent question, one I didn’t have an answer to. Derrick had put up with me cranky at family camp, had seemed to understand my bad moods in relation to my family and never tried to jolly me out of them. But on the other hand, he’d all but given me permission to move on. He clearly assumed I couldn’t hack this separation, so why was I making myself so miserable? Perversely, his lack of faith in my ability to stick it out made me that much more determined. But it didn’t make me any less cranky.
“I bet you had a nice drive up at least.” Stacey nabbed a fresh drink from the cooler.
“Eh. Car needed exercise.” Driving alone had only reminded me how fun driving with Derrick was. But maybe Stacey had a point in that I could try to find joy in the few things I got to do for him. And I had found satisfaction in cleaning the car to his standards, getting it ready for the drive here, and I had felt close to him while driving to a playlist I’d made for him prior to his deployment. Maybe I didn’t need a hobby, but I could afford to get over myself a little more. Inhaling, I made an effort to sound less pissy. “I’m glad he trusted me with the car.”
“Of course he trusted you.” Mom passed me a bowl of chips. “He loves you.”
That remained to be seen. He hadn’t said the L word, but then neither had I. And he’d said I made him happy. And left me the car to watch over. If actions spoke louder than words, every touch, every look, every kiss had revealed both of our hearts for weeks. But was that enough? I wished I knew.
I shook my head at the offer of chips. “Sorry. Not hungry. And sorry I’m such crappy company.”
Sparing them more of my crankiness, I paced off into the yard, beyond where the kids were playing. Watching them made me remember the talent show and Derrick’s unbridled joy and pride. I sank down on a nearby bench. I wanted more of Derrick’s happiness, wanted reasons to make him smile, wanted to feel his pride, wanted to share every success with him. But damn, waiting was hard.
“You’re not crappy company,” my mom said, plopping down next to me on the garden bench.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” I admitted, dropping the attitude and getting real for the first time all afternoon. Much as she drove me up a wall, I also couldn’t lie to Mom, and she had a way of making me admit hard truths.
“Oh, honey.” She put an arm around me. “None of us are.”
“You are. You were always so cheerful, managing Dad’s absences, living your life without him around, being super mom and never complaining.”
“That you think that means I did a good job with you boys, but maybe a little too good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t some sort of cheery zombie who never missed him and never got frustrated. But we had a plan, and I believed in our plan.”
“Oh?” Now it was my turn to frown.
“My job as a parent was to make things bearable for you kids, but your dad and I were a team.” Her tone stayed patient even in the face of my surliness. “We decided on each re-up together, considering all the factors. It wasn’t something he decided and I simply put up with.”
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