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He heads straight for the stairs, which helps me breathe easier.
As he steps on the staircase, I notice something sticking out of his bottom pocket.
A package of almonds with the brand’s familiar ornate looking black-and-gold logo sticking out.
Blech.
No surprise there since he lives on those things.
What does surprise me is how the package tumbles out, like the pocket isn’t big enough to contain them or might have a hole in the bottom. He doesn’t notice and keeps plodding up the stairs.
Jeez. I actually feel a little bad for thinking he was rotten enough to fling trash on our lawn.
Is that how the other bags ended up where we found them?
I hurry back to the desk, shut off the computer, and then go into the kitchen where I busy myself with deciding what to make for tomorrow’s meals. After living alone forever, it’s nice to make meals for more than just myself and the odd friend.
Looks like lasagna night tomorrow.
After doing some light prep for breakfast, I find Gram yawning like a bear and ready for bedtime. We help her get situated, and then Faye and I walk over to see Hercules one more time for the night.
“Weston sure is taking good care of my baby,” she says happily as we pet the grunting pig. “I knew they’d get along like darlings. He’s always had a soft spot for looking after animals, and people, too. That’s why that attack was so hard on him.”
Instantly concerned, I stand up from leaning down to stroke Herc.
“Attack? What attack?”
Faye stares at me, her frizzy grey hair rippling in the breeze.
“Oh, I thought you knew,” Faye says quietly. “The two of you are so close. Surely, he told you why he discharged?”
Not as close as I wish. I swallow.
“No, I don’t know. He’s been pretty private about all that and I didn’t want to intrude...”
“I see. Well, it was his unit. They were doing some sort of mission, trying to clear an area for this convoy, I think...the entire road was trapped. It was the only way in or out of some little village that was giving the Army trouble. They were dreadfully ambushed. I might be mixing things up—it was Grady who told me. He was listed as next of kin. Still, Weston was never quite the same after it. I know what you mean about the poor dear holding things in. He hates to talk about it, God bless him.”
Next of kin? But that usually means—
Holy shit.
My heart nearly blasts right out of my chest.
“Was Weston hurt? Badly?”
“Not seriously, thank heavens...they just assumed everyone perished at first. They found him pinned under some debris in a second sweep of the area. I think the fact that he walked away was harder on him than if he’d been hurt. Apparently, everyone who was with him was killed or horrifically maimed.” She sighs. “I can only imagine how hard he tried to help the injured.” She pauses again, shaking her head. “He wasn’t himself when he came home, that’s for sure. But slowly, little by little, I think he’s coming around. I’ve seen him laugh and smile more today than I’ve seen in a long time, Shelly. Thank you for that.”
My heart breaks into pebbles.
There’s so freaking much I didn’t know about that hole in his life. Didn’t even think about because I’ve been so focused on myself and avoiding drama, picking at old wounds.
Was this attack why he didn’t write? Was he just...broken?
All this time, I wanted the boy I used to know, but no matter how often his smile shines through or how much he laughs, now I know.
He’s not that West.
And I’m not sure I’m the same old Shel, either.
