“What is with everyone tonight? Can’t twofriendsgrab dinner after a speaking engagement without the rumor mill going into overdrive?” Carly snapped, her pretty face tight with irritation.
Owen froze. Melissa gasped. Caleb stared in confusion.
Carly closed her eyes as her face flamed barn red. When she opened them, her gaze softened. “I apologize. Please forgive me. That was completely uncalled for. Not that it excuses my behavior, but folks have been staring like we’re about to go at it on the table.”
Go at it on the table? Owen broke out in a cold sweat. Why the hell would Carly say that unless she’d had hot daydreams too? Images of him and Carly together, ones not appropriate to have in public, raced through his mind.
“Don’t worry. I understand. This town loves to gossip,” Melissa said, drawing Owen from his erotic fantasy. “As entertainment, it’s second only to watching the Cowboys. The night Cal proposed, half the town called Mom before I got home. If we hear any talk, we’ll set them straight, right Cal?”
Her husband nodded. “Speaking of the Cowboys. Owen, did you hear they’re thinking of cutting—”
“Save that discussion for Friday night.” Melissa clasped her husband’s hand, said goodbye, and led Cal toward the door.
After the couple left, Carly flagged down Amy, ordered another glass of wine and Owen asked for another beer. “Caleb’s the one who asked you to go bowling?”
He nodded. “At the welcome-home shindig. It sounded like a good idea at the time.”
“But?”
Since he agreed, the difficulty of everyday activities had slapped him upside the head. The physical and mental energy required to keep from embarrassing himself proved more demanding. “Everything’s tougher than I expected.”
“You could cancel.”
“I’d have to explain why, or lie. Neither of which I want to do.”
“I suggest leveling with family and friends about what you’re experiencing. Let them help and support you. Concealing issues from your support system uses up emotional and physical energy better spent on your recovery.”
“I can’t tell them that some days I struggle to follow simple conversations because a toddler retains information better than I do? That other days the ringing in my ears and the dizziness are so bad I want to stay in bed?” They’d never see him the same again. The conversations around him hammered in his head. His vision blurred. His stomach roiled and he clenched his fists. “The only thing worse than what I’m dealing with would be having folks pitying me more than they already do.”
*
He grabbed hisglass and took a long draw on his beer trying to cool the rage boiling inside him. How had he allowed Carly to dig deep inside him to hit bedrock? Now that he’d uttered the words, he realized the truth. He worried what the hell he’d do if he couldn’t return to the Army. That he couldn’t cut it in the corporate world and would become a burden to his parents.
She reached out to place her hand over his, but he pulled away, and said, “I don’t need your pity either.”
“I don’t do that emotion.”
“Good.”
“But offering help and compassion aren’t the same as pity.”
“Point taken.” He paused.
“If you want to go bowling, use the strategies from the article I gave you. For example, go for an hour or two but leave before you get fatigued and have problems. Set an alarm on your phone to remind you.”
“I made notes to talk to you about that when I read it.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and scanned what he’d written. “Seemed the strategies would create more questions I don’t want to answer. Like why I’m leaving early.”
“Owen, teenage girls don’t angst this much over going out. Quit over-analyzing.”
“I’m not. I’m anticipating potential trouble and assessing the probability of success.”
“Potato, po-ta-toe,” she countered.
“That was my strength gearing up for missions. I brought up possible problems. Then we developed a scenario to prevent or handle it. The ability saved me and my buddies asses more than once.”
Then how come you didn’t anticipate a woman suicide bomber showing up pretending to need help?
Don’t go there now. You can’t handle it.
