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“You need a reintroduction into the real world because you’re going to be out of here in no time. Can’t have you forgetting how to interact.” She leaned forward. “Especially with weirdos.”
I hoisted Blake onto the bed. “Here okay?”
“Fine.” He moved his arm almost robotically until it curled around the little dude, who made himself at home, nestling against his side.
“Did you pick out a new book? Or do I finally get to choose?” Marlow was herself. Not a sugar-coated version. If anything, the man in the bed seemed to appreciate that.
“Like hell I’d let you pick. I don’t want some fluffy—”
“If you say chick book, I’m leaving.” She settled into the chair beside the bed. “Can’t they get something more comfortable?”
“I’ll talk to somebody about it.” His mouth twitched as she pulled a book from her purse.
“Guess you aren’t interested in this.” She held it out.
He perked up. “Is that the new one?”
“Yeah, but since I don’t get to pick—”
“Read that one.”
“Are you sure?” Marlow hovered the hardback over her bag.
“Start reading, doll. Visiting hours aren’t that long.”
The entire dayMarlow dazzled soldier after soldier. She was no stranger to any of them. In fact, they were pleased to see her.
My mouth hung open most of the time. She was herself, yet a bit of that hard exterior shell was down. This was the woman I saw that sometimes her family didn’t. Around these people, she had no trouble being herself. I wondered if that was because they all understood each other’s pain.
“You didn’t have to stay all day.” She settled against me once we were back in the car, resting her head on my shoulder.
Blake was already asleep in my lap. He’d had a small nap in the stroller between two visits, which made sense. But he’d been patient, even when he’d wanted to get down and run around. I had no idea how he’d pulled that off. Such a patient and amazing kid.
“And miss you in action? No way.”
She glared at me. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“I won’t.” I rubbed circles on her shoulder. “Any particular reason why?”
Wicked was quiet a moment. “I started coming during Jack’s first deployment. I—I don’t even know why. But after—it’s the one place where I feel like I can breathe.”
I pressed a kiss to her hair. “How often do you go?”
“Every Tuesday.”
“What you’re doing—”
“Isn’t enough. And don’t start thinking I’m some sort of good person. I go for me. I’d have never survived this long without that place.”
“We can go more often if you want.”
“Tuesday. It has to be Tuesday.”
I opened my mouth to ask her why, but decided against it. Her reasons were her own. When she wanted to share, she would.
“Thanks for letting me tag along.”
“I’m glad you came. I couldn’t have handled Blake with my back.”
