No matter how she tried to see them—a tribute to life or a celebration of eternal salvation—funerals always gutted Jenny. Add in the Marine honor guard in their dress blues—Brody included—and she’d gone through all of the tissue in her clutch before the priest even began Brody’s grandfather’s graveside service.
She couldn’t look at Brody, standing at attention with the other pallbearers, including Sam. But then she couldn’t look away either. He’d become a stony, emotionless pillar since that morning in his grandparents’ backyard. He’d gone back to Omaha to get some things together for his parents while they stayed with his grandma and, even though she’d offered to go along, he’d refused. He’d tried to blame it on her work schedule, but she knew the truth—he’d needed the time alone.
His distance hurt, but she got it. Grief was a torturous, sometimes relentless bitch and not only was Brody dealing with the loss of his grandfather, but the renewed loss of Ernie and Troy and every other Marine friend he’d had to bury, as well.
Feeling so helpless sucked. Feeling so desperate to do something to get through to him, only to be turned away was nothing she wished upon anyone.
But she wasn’t just anyone. She was a woman who’d become an expert at steeling her resolve. A pro at giving and giving and giving some more. She might have vowed to never offer more to a man than she got back, but that was before Brody, and up until this past week, he’d given her more than she could have ever hoped for.
That’s why when she’d found him on the couch this morning, looking like he hadn’t slept at all, she’d refused to give up.
“You okay?” she’d asked, curling up beside him, sharing her warmth and whatever comfort he’d let her give.
“Yep. Fine.” But his eyes never left the ceiling and, when she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, he didn’t even acknowledge her. Just kept staring off into space, completely wrapped up in whatever was going on in that handsome, conflicted head of his.
He was that man again now, standing a few feet away, his eyes trained on something on the far side of the cemetery. Probably nothing at all. Just that place he had to go to in his head to keep it together. Or block it out. Whatever it was he had to do to make it through.
His Grandmother Caroline did better than any one else at the service. She kept her chin high and she even offered comfort to Lena when she broke down and Brody’s father couldn’t console her. Even when the honor guard presented Caroline with that pristinely folded flag, she stayed strong, shedding but a single tear as she thanked the stoic Marine with a tender pat to his cheek.
Would that be her someday? Receiving Brody’s flag?
God. A hard, painful lump swelled in Jenny’s throat and she bit her lip to keep from crying until she drew blood.
She’d fallen completely in love with him, this amazing, too proud man that had swept in and stolen her heart with his honesty and his flaws and his unrelenting strength. Despite his own fear, he’d given her a pair of comforting arms to fall into that first night in Vegas and so many nights since. They were the same arms she offered him now—and would continue to—no matter how hard he pretended he didn’t need them.
Taps rang through the air making her shiver, the honor guard marched out, and the priest sent Robert Brekowski up to eternal rest with a final petition. She did her best to hold it together when she hugged Lena and Caroline, but when Brody embraced his family, she lost it all over again.
And she was supposed to be his rock? Good Lord.
“You ready to go?” He approached her after he paid his respects and accepted handshakes and hugs of his own. All she could do was nod. Just being here is enough. I don’t need all the perfect words. She wasn’t sure it was true, but she told herself this over and over again.
When Brody finally led her to his truck, he helped her in, but he didn’t talk. Just got behind the wheel and drove them back to his grandparents’ home, where the rest of the family congregated. All neighbors and extended family since Lena was an only child.
“Thank you for being here today,” he finally spoke when they’d parked. “It means a lot. To me and my family.”
She swallowed back her lingering emotion, her hands twisted together in her lap. “I don’t know what to say. I...don’t know how to make this easier for you. Finding you like that this morning...”
He tossed his cover onto the seat between them and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Some shit you can’t fix, Jenn. It’s just gotta run its course. Or not. Who the fuck knows.”
She nodded, lips pressed together. “But I’m here either way. You know that, right?”
His heavy eyes swung her way and he smiled. A weak, unattached sentiment that made her heart ache all the more. “Yeah, babe, I know.”
Did he? She wasn’t convinced. Still, she smiled back, because maybe this was one of those fake it ’till you make it kind of situations. “You look handsome today, in case I haven’t already told you.”
This time the twitch of his lips was genuine, even if that same light didn’t meet his eyes. Reaching for the door, he winked. “Let’s go, sugar, we’ve got potato salad to eat.”
***
He was tearing her apart.
Brody watched Jenny watch him from across the living room. She tried to keep busy, clearing away plates and getting drinks and dessert for his relatives, but her too-alert, too-concerned eyes never strayed far from him. Especially when she thought he wasn’t looking.
She was more than anything he could have ever hoped to find in a woman. A lover. A friend. She had shown him more unconditional affection in their short relationship than most of the family milling about in this tiny house ever had. But for what reward? He was no fucking prize.
He’d been kidding himself and misleading her thinking he was anywhere near ready—or even capable—of being an adequate partner for her. She deserved a man who had his shit together, not some loser who rode his emotions like a bad fucking carnival ride.
This past week...shit. Sleep had been non-existent and not because of the dreams, because Ernie, Troy, and now Gramps were in his head every second of the day anyway. Their voices and faces, laughing and mocking him. Their cold, colorless hands reaching out to grab at him around every corner, desperate to dig their haunting fingers into his flesh and not let go.
He was sliding down that guilt-ridden slope again and this time Jenny rode shotgun.
A smart man would let her go. A considerate man would put as much space between them as possible.
But a man as lost as he was? He held on to the lifeline she gave him because without her, he’d drown in a second.
***
They arrived in River Bend just before dark, the hour drive from North Platte feeling like it took days. Brody hadn’t said more than a few sentences and even the coffee he’d been chugging couldn’t mask the exhaustion that had settled into his shoulders.
When he pulled into her driveway, Jenny gave a mental sigh of relief. Maybe he’d finally sleep tonight. Maybe she would, too.
“You did good today,” she said softly when he shut down the engine. “I’m proud of you.”
He pulled the keys from the ignition and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “It’s what I do, Jenn. So many times now, it’s become routine.”
She didn’t believe that for a second and not just because they’d buried his grandfather this morning. Still, it wasn’t a debate that really mattered, and his body language said he’d clam up completely if she pushed for more intense conversation right now.
“Let’s go inside.” Touching his forearm across the console, she tried for a reassuring smile. He was a mess, she was a mess, and together it felt like they teetered on the edge of something more precarious than either had the strength to deal with right now. But still...she wouldn’t give up. “I’ll make something quick for dinner and we can climb into bed early. It’s been a long day.”