For the past three weeks, we've been coming to the playground a couple of times a week so Kyra and Sam can play together. They were cautious of each other at first, but now, as they chase each other around the fort in an imaginary game of their own, you wouldn't know it.
"I found something in Bridgett's diary."
Amos jerks his head around to face me. "Something about Jake?"
"I think so."
He looks at me expectantly, and when I don't say anything, he raises his eyebrows. "Well...?"
"I can't tell you here." I glance over at the kids, but they've oblivious to us.
"They can't hear us here." Amos takes a seat on the far side of the picnic table.
I pull out the worn exercise book from my purse and sit down next to Amos. I flip the book open to the page I marked.
"From what I've learned, Bridgett worked at a diner, and she sometimes hooked up with customers. She states how she didn't want a man in her life, but she enjoyed male company from time to time."
I glance at Amos, and he's peering intently at the page.
"There's an entry about seven years ago. She mentions meeting a guy who was in the military. He started coming to the diner, and they got friendly."
I point to a line in the diary. "She refers to him as JM."
"Jake Monroe," Amos says softly.
I turn the page and pause, not sure how to say the next part. "She describes him as a troubled soul."
Amos frowns. "He could be a grumpy ass sometimes. Does she say anything else?"
I take a long breath. "She does, but it's a little graphic."
Amos raises an eyebrow. "Just give me the highlights."
I glance at the kids who are taking turns on the slide and lower my voice. "I'm going to read this bit directly.” My finger traces the lines of Bridgett's words. "There's darkness in that one. He fucked me so hard the condom broke."
I glance at Amos, and he's staring at the page intently. "Is there more?"
"They spent a few days together. Then he was deployed. She switched jobs and never gave him her number. But then she realizes she's pregnant."
"But why didn't she try to find him, if she knew his name?"
"She says she didn't want a military man in her life coming and going. She didn't want him to think she had scammed him, and she didn't want a guy in her baby’s life who was deployed for most of the time and obviously had PTSD. Her words."
Amos frowns. "Jake never had PTSD." But he doesn't sound sure.
He sighs. "I can understand. It's hard being with someone in the military, especially special forces. I've seen girlfriends end it because they can't hack the uncertainty, marriages fall apart, kids who don't recognize their dads. I can understand her reasoning."
I close the journal. "Does that give you some clarity?"
He grunts. "A little. I'll give my family the sanitized version. And don't mention the darkness if anyone asks."
"Of course not."
I slip the diary back into my bag and we sit quietly, watching the kids play.
"How's he getting on at school?" I ask Amos.
We're standing back from the playground by a picnic bench to give them space. It's a chilly fall afternoon, and I have my coat wrapped tightly around me.
