Her reactions never failed to make me smile. Did she really think I’d tell her to come in if I was naked on the bed? “Yeah, Mom. I’m dressed.”
She came in and closed the door behind her. Tinkerbell, Mom’s little terrier, whined from the hallway. “Tomorrow night’s the Wallington Annual Holiday Dinner.”
I almost rolled my eyes at how she used the official name for it, but held back.
“I know.” I slipped my phone under my pillow in case Finn wrote back. I mean, he used the name Susan—he’d even created a SusanCheers@gmail.com account to stay in character—but I still didn’t like to risk it. I sat up and hugged my knees, resting my chin on them. “Dad reminded me last night.”
“I got you a new dress for it.” She reached out and smoothed her hand down my head in the way she always did when I was upset. I was trying to act all happy and cheery, but it was hard when a piece of me was gone. “We’re going to have some extra guests, too.”
“Okay…” I rolled my head her way. “Who?”
“Arnold and his family, the Christensons,” Mom turned her head and stared out the window, “and the Stapletons.”
Why did that name sound familiar?
“Sounds nice.” I wiggled my toes and sighed. “Do you need help setting anything up?”
She laughed, seeming to be relieved about something. “No, we hired temporary help so the normal help could relax before the big event.”
Ha. Only in my life would that sentence make total sense.
Finn would’ve laughed at that, too. My heart panged, and the happiness I’d found moments before simply faded. “Mom, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” She crossed her legs and perched on the edge of my bed. “What is on your mind? Are you finally ready to talk?”
She wore a flawless pair of black dress pants and a light pink satin top. She looked every inch the lady. As a kid, I’d always wondered if I would turn out like her. If I would end up being soft spoken yet strong. Kind yet stern. Always the lady.
I didn’t think I would anymore. It wasn’t me.
“If I loved someone who wasn’t from our normal crowd, would you approve?” I met her eyes, curling my hands over my calves. “If he made me happy, would you accept him?”
She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know, dear. It would depend on the boy, I guess.” She turned to me, bending and sticking her foot underneath of her thigh. “Why? Are you seeing someone you don’t think we’d approve of?”
“No, not exactly.” I shook my head. “I like a guy who isn’t from our world. He’s not a Christenson or a Wallington.”
Mom nodded slowly. “Would he make your father’s campaign look bad?”
“I don’t think so, no.” Finn’s words echoed in my head. He’d said he wouldn’t fit in on the stage with us, with his tattoos and his motorcycle, but I didn’t care about that. “He’s not a criminal or anything.”
Mom sighed and rested her hand on my back. “Life is hard, and sometimes the heart doesn’t make much sense. Sometimes it knows best, and other times it’s wrong. You have to pay attention and decide when it’s right and when it’s off. If you’re questioning our acceptance of this boy, chances are this time it’s off and you know it.”
“Mom.” I stood up and spun on her. “That’s not true. It’s not wrong.”
“Are you sure about that?” She stood as well, remaining perfectly poised. “If you weren’t uncertain, you wouldn’t even have to ask. You’d just introduce us to this boy, and you’d be certain we would like him. Let’s count the ways this doesn’t add up.”
“It’s not that. I—”
“Hm. Let’s see.” She counted off on her fingers as she said, “Instead of telling us you have a boyfriend, you hide him and pretend he’s not real. Then you ask me if I’d like him even if he wasn’t one of us, whatever that means. Then you tell me the heart is right, even though it’s not.”
She had a point, but I wasn’t hiding him because of what she said. I was hiding him because of his job, and because he wasn’t here.
But I couldn’t tell her that, could I?
“It’s right and you’ll see it.” I put my hands on my hips. “When I’m ready to tell you about it, that is.”
“I’ll look forward to that time.” Her chin lifted. “Until then, I’ll assume we won’t like your boy, because you won’t tell us who he is.” Mom sighed and walked to my side, not even narrowing her eyes or acting the slightest bit angry. “If he makes you happy, we’ll like him.”
I nodded. “Then get ready to knit us matching sweaters for Christmas.”
“Good.” She inclined her head toward my closet. “The dress I bought you is in your closet. I had Frances put it in there this morning.”
“Thanks,” I said stiffly.
She started to walk away, but then stopped again. “You know, I’m not a snob. You seem to think I am. I’ve just been around a lot longer than you have. I’ve seen a lot more than you, and I know how the world works.”
“Maybe I want to change the world,” I said, lifting my chin.
“Maybe you will.”
And with that, she opened the door and left with Tinkerbell trailing behind her, like always.
23
I hated this fucking place. All I’d done for the past three weeks was eat sand, get shot at, almost get blown up twice, and miss Carrie. I walked around like some lovesick fucker who didn’t know how to live without a woman at his side.
And even worse? I was absolutely that fucking guy. And this assignment sucked donkey balls.
I’d been given three hours of down time, and I had every intention of using it to sleep and dream of her—even if it was seven o’clock at night. When you only got a handful of hours to sleep on any given day, you took them when you got them.
I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was with her. We were laying side by side, our hands touching and her ankle thrown over my calf like she always did in her sleep. Or maybe we were about to get ready for the big Wallington Annual Holiday Dinner.
I think that was today or tomorrow…
I’d kind of lost track of time lately. All the days blended into one long, drawn out nightmare. It would have been the perfect night to tell everyone we loved each other. We would all be together, with the normal social hierarchy gone.
We could have stood up, entwined hands, and announced our love for each other. I would look her father in the eye and assure him that I would never hurt Carrie…
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in,” I called out, sitting up straight and rubbing my eyes. Had I dozed off for a second there? It felt like it. “I’m up.”
Dotter popped his blond head in through the crack of the door. “We’re getting word of a disturbance up north about a mile. We have to go check it out.”
I was on my feet within seconds, shrugging into my bulletproof vest. “Yes, sir.”
He closed the door and I stomped into my boots, then grabbed my helmet off my bare bunk. I was halfway to the door before I realized I didn’t have the most important item with me. I crossed the room and snatched Carrie’s photo from under my pillow, tucking it securely inside my vest—next to my dog tags and over my heart.
As I walked out the door and nodded at my superior, he came to my side. “I heard a rumor we might be going home soon.”
I stopped walking. “She’s done exploring the rough and tough Middle East already?”