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"I'd like that, mom." I sit on the bar stool and watch as she wipes down every already clean counter and wrings out the rag in the sink.
"We could go shopping. Do you know how long it's been since I've bought clothes for myself?" I can only imagine. She never was one to fuss over herself. She raised all of us kids, making sure we had what we needed before she even thought of spending a dime on herself. Of course, my father came before her as well.
"Only if you let me treat you."
"Nonsense, Jade. Honestly, I just want to know that you're ok. You don't know how many times I've practiced what I'd say to you if I ever had the chance."
"Mom. I know." She has to know I've thought the same way. The way our last conversation ended had me dreading this, and I'm not too sure the years away weren’t exactly what we all needed. Jason never would've suggested it, but he didn't really have that choice.
"I went to his grave before I stopped here." She stops moving and stands with her back to me.
"I go every single day."
"I figured you did." She starts to retrace her pattern on the counters, it's how she deals with pain; she cleans and stays distracted as if it'll all go away if she never stops.
"Just tell me you won't follow in his footsteps all the way to the end, Jade. I just can't take it again." Her words choke me up, and I struggle to get my own past the huge lump in my throat.
"Mom, I won't. I promise." My words are a promise I fully plan to keep, but we both know the casualties of this career aren't always during a war on enemy territory. Sometimes the worst war is the one we have in our heads after we come back home. My brother battled with a decision he made for about six months before he chose to end the fight.
"Please just give me this, Jade, tell me you'll come to me before it gets that bad. Tell me you'll let me help you if you ever think like that. I can't bury a second child. It's your job to bury me." I know where she's coming from. I watch her through my own tears again and nod my head as soon as she finally looks up at me through her own. She sees my pain. I know she does, and the strength behind her hug when she wraps me up again in her arms tells me just that.
"Now that's enough crying. This is supposed to be a happy time. We should go to dinner or something. Let me call your brothers and see if they can make it in tonight."
"Mom, can we just stay in? You can tell them tomorrow I'm back and plan something next week. I just really want to spend time with you and dad right now." She smiles and moves to the refrigerator. She begins to talk as she pulls things out of the freezer for dinner.
"How does steak sound?"
"Perfect. I think I'm going to take a long, hot shower if you don't mind."
"Of course, Jade. You know where your room is." I slide off the bar stool and move down the hall, closing my eyes tightly as I pass Jason's room, swallowing the memories flooding my head as I do. It's strange to feel the strong pull to his room when I pass, but I know I'm not ready for that.
I let the hot water burn my skin and make the hurt inside dissipate just slightly as it does. I wish more than anything that I could talk to Jason right now about where my head is at. He would understand more than anyone; he's lived it. He knows what it's like to kill a child; after all, it consumed him for the last months of his life as he tried to overcome it and failed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JADE
Three beers and a few chocolate chip cookies down, and a breakfast date arranged with my dad before the night ends, give me a good feeling with both of my parents. A shower that lasted a half hour was exactly what I needed despite the soreness still in my arm. I have my mom help me wrap it, and I’m very proud of her for not asking any questions she knows I won’t be able to answer. It’s not an obvious bullet graze, but it is apparent I was hurt out there. I just wish the true ache in my head would disappear and the heaviness I’m carrying around in my heart would go away by the time this wound heals.
I’m climbing into my old twin bed, ready to succumb to sleep, when my text messages go off. Harris is finally getting back with me, and before I have the chance to reply to his second text, he’s calling me.
No ‘Hello Jade, how are you feeling?’ Just good ole Harris getting straight to the point.
To be honest, I’m thankful he isn’t trying to coddle me. Or become all possessive. I’m even more grateful we didn’t cross over that unwritten line of friendship. We came damn close, too close actually. It may have ruined the friendship I cherish too much and made things awkward.
“Do you want me to pick you both up on Friday?” he offers, and honestly, the thought of him dealing with most of the driving sounds nice. Mallory and I won’t be able to cut completely loose, but I’m sure they’ll get along well enough to make the weekend trip.
“Sure. What exactly are your plans for Alabama, Harris?”
“Absolutely fucking nothing. I want to just be free in the damn US of A for a damn minute without an itinerary or schedule to follow.”
“Sounds damn perfect. What time do you plan to head out?”
“I’ll head your way that morning, so say… around three o’clock I’ll be by to get you both.”
“We’ll be packed.”
“Hey.” The line goes silent as I wait for him to continue.
