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I stop and stare at him coldly.
“If you’re so sure, you tell her for me,” I say.
“Huh?”
“Tell her I’m an alcoholic. Tell her I watched good people die while I was wearing several good peoples’ guts. Tell her I came home too fucked up to even send her a hello by pigeon. Tell her how hard you and Uncle Grady had to work to make sure I didn’t fall off the wagon into a bottomless pit.” I let out a sarcastic laugh. “That’s the kind of man chicks want to marry, right? A man who still gets nightmares when he isn’t even asleep?”
“Shel isn’t just any woman, West, and you know it,” he says softly. “And you’re a recovered alcoholic by any sane measure. You went through hell, yeah. You stumbled—you tripped up a lot—but you still got up, got help, and now you’re stronger than ever.” Marty takes a fierce swig off his beer. “But honestly, none of that shit’s what I’m talking about you telling her.”
Confused, I frown. “What do you want me to say?”
“That she was the whole reason you decided on the Army in the first place, dude. Everything you’ve told me a hundred times. That you were worried if you stayed, she’d turn eighteen and never leave. She’d never experience the world, never chase her dreams if you were still in Dallas. You left so she could have a life. She did what you asked, she saw the world, and she kicked ass. Don’t you think it’s time she knows she can stay, if that’s what she honestly wants? She’s a grown woman. She’s my sister. I have trouble seeing it myself sometimes, but God help me, I’m gonna start.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be here? What if she’s just confused?”
He shrugs. “Only one person I know who seems confused, and he’s standing right in front of me.”
Fucking touché.
I shake my head. “I can’t be the reason she uproots her whole life, Marty. Believe me, I’m not the man she needs.”
“That’s for her to decide, don’t you think? She got understandably pissed at us for doing too much choosing for her.”
“You think?” I laugh again bitterly. “I don’t know what to think right now. My mind is a fucking minefield.”
“Then stop thinking,” Marty says. “Go with your gut.”
I heave out a groan, swiping a hand over my face.
“Goddammit, man. You and Uncle Grady should partner up as the town shrinks.”
The angry pull I take off my root beer dribbles down my chin, and I wipe it with my hand.
“Sounds like a good gig. Psychologists make bank without having to step out into sub-zero weather that’ll freeze your nads off.”
“Yeah, you could start by charging about five cents a whack,” I say. A nickel is about all his advice is worth.
He laughs and takes a drink off his beer.
“Change of subject, but did you sync up your aunt’s security app yet on your phone?”
“I have it set up, but I haven’t activated it yet. I gotta do that at her place once she sets up her code. She said she’d do it once she’s back.”
“She went home this morning, I hear. I wasn’t sure if you knew or not.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“She’s there now.” He finishes his beer and sets the glass down, along with a ten-dollar bill, and stands up. “You might want to swing by before you go home. Could be all sorts of shenanigans tonight with Halloween and all.”
“I will. Thanks.”
He slaps my shoulder. “That’s what friends are for.”
I check the clock. It’s a little after six, and I push my empty glass to the bar’s edge.
“Heading out?” Grady asks.
“Yeah, I gotta swing by Aunt Faye’s house to get her new security app working and activate the system. Marty said she left the B&B this morning.”
