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“She got…cancer. Breast cancer.” I swallow, locking my gaze on the leafy slope in front of us, focusing on the movement of my feet. “Some of the smart drugs…” I chew my lip and rub my brows, where pressure seems to be building. “They had started coming out…” I inhale, “but…” I shake my head. Gwen’s arm bumps mine; the small touch spurns me onward. I look down and find her eyes are clear and understanding.
Despite the pressure behind my eyes, the tightness in my throat, I find my voice. I keep it low and steady. “I think my father thought they should have taken lymph nodes that they didn’t. I don’t know.” I struggle to swallow as again my head pounds. My hand, around Gwen’s, clenches. Hers grips mine tightly.
“She was barely healed up when they found it in her brain.”
I clench my jaw and bite my cheek. Finally, I get a deep breath.
“My dad…” I stroke her fingers as I think of how to explain Robert. “So he’s a surgeon, right?” I feel more than see her nod. “He fixes baby hearts,” I add on, my eye still fixed on the sloping ground. I blow a breath out, wondering how much to tell her. What she even wants to know.
“I guess he was…he’s kind of hard.” My gaze drops to hers, and hers is steady; of course it is. Like other times, her blend of warmth and distance makes me feel more forthcoming.
“Robert had to work to get where he was. He joined the Navy to pay for school. Medical school. He told me once she almost died…my mom. When she was giving birth to me.”
Gwen’s hand squeezes mine. I steal another glance down at her, but her eyes are out in front of us.
“She told me one time, there…near when—” I swallow hard to get my voice clearer. “She said he was a good person…Robert. That he had trouble showing it. He always worked a lot. I don’t think Kelly and Ly saw him, really. I mean—I know they didn’t. Never home,” I say of Robert.
I take a measured breath. My head aches to tell her—the need to recount what happened to another living person is almost physical—but the ache behind my sternum makes me cautious.
“He wasn’t home…when she was sick,” I rasp. “I never understood the way he worked the whole fucking time. He hired staff, home care. I didn’t leave, though. He wanted me to.” I shake my head, remembering how fucking stupid Robert was. Fucking asshole. I inhale. Exhale. “I used to drive her to appointments. I was only 15, but she was there, you know. She would mostly sleep and stuff, and I would get us fries with ranch from fast food places. She liked greasy fries.”
Gwen’s thumb rubs my hand.
“So I… I, um, missed too many days of school.” I laugh, the sound harsh and dry. “I dropped out. Just for a day or two. He found me at home…Robert. I used to carve things. You know…animals. Chisel. I was carving something. A squirrel.” I smile at her, even though my chest is aching. “He came in… I left.” I take another shallow breath.
“Slow down.” Her hand comes to my chest. Her arms wrap around me. “You’re okay.” It’s true; she feels so warm and fucking soft against me.
“He made me leave the house…and I drove to a gun range. I had a teacher there. From school. A ’Nam vet. That’s how I started,” I say hoarsely. “I went there and…it was something I could do. I liked knowing I had something in my hand that could end a life.” My voice goes hollow on the last word. When I get the nerve to look down at her, I’m stunned to find her eyes are pools of compassion.
“That makes sense,” she says softly.
I wanted to die. I never really realized until now, but that’s why I joined up, I think. Not because I was a good shot. Because I had to go somewhere, and there was nowhere else, and it made sense. “I left, like he wanted.”
“Yeah?”
“I liked the risks.” I chuckle dryly. I take a deep pull from my water bottle. “I’m glad I didn’t carry you up here like I thought about doing.”
“I wish I could carry you.” Her hand squeezes mine as the mossy boulder comes into view.
I feel raw inside. Like someone peeled a scab off.
“So your dad wanted you to leave?” she asks, and I can hear her hesitance. She’s probably nervous about keeping the conversation going, but I want to. For some reason, I need to tell her.
“I didn’t do well after…Mom. All I wanted to do was watch the twins or go to the range—the gun range. Robert wanted them to have a nanny. He made me move out into my own place while I finished school.”
“High school?”
I nod, looking into her wide eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Her fingers stroke mine. “I just…”
“What?” The leaves crunch as we near the boulder.
“I don’t think I like your dad. Making you move out...” She shakes her head. “If I ever find a time machine, I’m coming, okay?”
I smirk. “Okay.” I kiss the top of her head, and we close the distance to the rock. It’s dappled with sunlight, covered with a smattering of leaves. From side to side, it’s about the size of a sedan, a giant, dark gray, volcanic-looking rock with greenish splotches.
“I bet you didn’t go home very much on leave,” she says as I climb up onto the rock and hold a hand out for her.
