A Promise of Forever Page 3

  She glanced at Joe’s house as she headed east. A lamp was on in the living room, but his car was gone from the driveway. School had started last week, so he could be at some function there. Football, it seemed, never ended, so his absence could have something to do with that. He could be out partying with his friends or even on a date. He was way too gorgeous to not be in a serious relationship, but every time she tried to fix him up with someone, he insisted he could find his own women.

  He was clueless in a really cute, overgrown boy sort of way.

  By the time she reached QuikTrip, she was sweating—not a good look on her—and beads of it were running everywhere, not just down her spine. She spotted Marti’s BMW parked in the corner, engine running, windows up, and AC blasting. After tossing her empty water bottle in the trash, she tapped on the driver’s window, and Marti shut off the motor and got out.

  “See,” Lucy said in greeting. “You had something appropriate for sweltering needlessly in the park.”

  Marti glanced at her own outfit—cotton shorts, pressed and creased; sleeveless top in cool jersey, and adorable sandals with just enough of a heel to make her look inches taller than she already was.

  When Lucy wore heels, she looked 5'3"-and-chunky-in-heels.

  “I swear to you, the temperature went up one degree on the drive over. I’m going inside and standing in the freezer compartment.” Marti beeped the key fob, and with a bird trill the doors locked.

  Lucy’s key fob sounded like a strangled toad’s last breath. It didn’t always lock the doors, either.

  The QT was busy inside and out, lines at the gas pumps, the pop dispensers, and the registers. Marti headed straight for the frozen French vanilla cappuccino machine while Lucy took a bottle of lime-flavored water from a refrigerated case and got a giant cup of crushed ice to go with it. They met at the register, where Marti grinned. “Look at you, ignoring yucky pop and buying good-for-you water. I’m so proud of you.”

  Lucy gave the clerk her debit card. “Water’s good. Almond milk’s fine. Iced tea is great. But sometimes I dream of giant vats of ice-cold pop and a straw a mile long. Of everything I’ve had to give up, I think I miss it most.”

  Despite her sweaty state, Marti hugged her. “It’s worth it, though, isn’t it? You’re healthier and happier and skinnier.”

  “Tell that to the doctor who poked me and said, ‘You could stand to lose a few pounds.’”

  “Did you tell him you already lost more than fifteen pounds?”

  “Yeah, he wasn’t impressed.”

  “Then did you tell him to keep his opinions to himself?”

  Lucy pushed the door open and held it for Marti plus an incoming soldier, who nodded politely and said, “Thank you, ma’am.” Young men were always calling her ma’am, when she was only thirty-four, for heaven’s sake. She had years to go before becoming a ma’am.

  Outside, it was her turn to give Marti a look. “Well, he is a doctor, and I did go to him for a checkup. That’s pretty much the same as asking for his opinion.”

  Marti waved her free hand as if such minor details didn’t matter. Of course, she’d never been in anything other than perfect health. Not one of her body’s systems would dare misbehave, and if one did, the doctor would tell her in the kindest, gentlest way. She did not like hearing bad news.

  Though she and Lucy had heard the worst news possible within minutes of each other over six years ago, when their husbands had been killed in the same combat incident in Iraq. For both of them it still ranked as the worst time of their lives.

  As they continued their lazy stroll along patched and crooked sidewalks, Marti asked, “What’s got you blue and making candy tonight?”

  “Nothing, really.”

  “Is it Ben?”

  “Nah. We’re where we should be.” Friends, no more.

  “Are you ready to meet the next guy?”

  “Nah. It would be nice if it would happen sooner rather than later, but no rush.”

  “Are you—” Marti’s voice bobbled, and she sternly cleared her throat. Most times she liked to pretend she was on the practical, non-dreamy side of the fence, squarely opposite Lucy, but Lucy knew better. A wide pink streak of romance wove its way through Marti’s soul, rooted the day she’d met Joshua, blossoming throughout their marriage, tattered and faded since his death, but still there, waiting. “Are you missing the magic?”

  Lucy’s smile was bittersweet. Neither of them was mathematically inclined, but there were some equations that needed no explaining. Joshua + Marti or Mike + Lucy = Magic. “Every time Mike looked at me, I felt like a princess at a ball, beautiful and beloved by my charming prince in combat boots,” she said on a sigh. “Mike got me, you know, the way women dream about. He loved me, imperfections and all, and I loved him back the same way and more. It really was magic.”

  “I know, LucyLu.” Marti’s voice bobbled again. “You two were blessed. So were Joshua and I.”

  Restless energy bounced and rolled inside her, feeding the self-pity that was slowly consuming her. “So much loss…so much change…It isn’t fair, Marti.”

  Marti slid her arm around Lucy’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “No,” she agreed, her words muffled by Lucy’s hair. “It’s damned unfair.”

  * * *

  Avi admired the tenacity of Oklahoma natives, who didn’t let a little thing like life-withering, bone-drying heat keep them from doing what they wanted and enjoying it. Though the sweat had stopped trickling down her spine to be absorbed instead by the thin cotton of her dress, though her hair was damp and stuck to her head in places where it had worked free of the braid, she couldn’t imagine a better welcome home than eating dinner in an elegant outdoor setting. Feeling the breeze cool her skin, listening to the tinkle of wind chimes, smelling the fragrance of flowers—it all gave her a sense of ease, something she’d been missing for far too long.

  She breathed deeply, then slowly let the air out in a long, thin sigh. She and Patricia hadn’t had more than a few minutes to talk privately, but that little bit had gone a long way to soothing her conscience. They would visit longer, Patricia had whispered, when her son went back to Tulsa. Dinner tomorrow evening? she’d asked, and Avi had nodded, the lump in her throat too big to speak over.

  Now Patricia was inside, dishing up dessert, and Avi and Ben sat silently in comfortable chairs, each holding a half-finished glass of wine. The chairs they’d moved to after the meal had sinfully thick cushions and were gathered around a black steel fire pit. The stone border edging it allowed it to do double duty as a table. It would be a wonderful place to sit in November, when winter’s chill was finally settling in, or in March, when they couldn’t stand another evening cooped up inside waiting for spring.

  Spring in Oklahoma was a glorious thing.

  Across the table, Ben shifted, drawing her attention that way. He was something of a surprise. She’d known Patricia had children from her first marriage. She’d seen pictures of them as kids and at their high school graduations. But she’d never given them much thought. For reasons she’d never asked about as a kid and never thought about as an adult, she’d known Patricia rarely saw them.

  If she’d ever imagined what Ben would be like, it wouldn’t have been close to reality. There wasn’t a bit of resemblance between him and Patricia. Where she was average height, slim, with light brown hair and blue eyes, he was a classic cliché: tall, dark, and handsome. Black hair, dark eyes, with the strong features of one of Oklahoma’s Indian tribes. Nice hands, skillful enough to become a surgeon; long legs; lean body.

  She spent her life surrounded by lean bodies. She wasn’t easily swayed by a fine physical specimen. If she was with her best friends right now, one of them would say But there’s something about this body, and everyone would laugh, because the sheer number of times they’d heard the comment made it more than mere words. It imbued the words with the full power of countless memories of unforgettable good times. Avi knew she’d been lucky to have so many good
times.

  But her friends weren’t here. Rosemary was stationed in Germany, spending every available free moment studying the architecture of the castles, or so she said. The others agreed that she was really fulfilling her princess fantasy. Jolie had gotten out of the Army and returned to Shreveport, where she shared her quarters with three kids and dealt with an ex-husband who acted like one. Kerry was in South Korea for her second time—or was it third? She freely admitted it was the food that kept drawing her back.

  And Paulette was in Arlington.

  Deliberately Avi refocused her thoughts. The friends she’d lost were never far from her mind, but the opportunity to relax and enjoy the presence of a totally hot guy hadn’t come along often in the last few years.

  “What do you do in the Army?” Ben asked, apparently tiring of the silence about the same time she did.

  “Signal,” she replied, then explained, “Communications. I’ll be an instructor at the signal school at Fort Gordon when my leave’s over.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Four weeks. Mom and Dad have always come to visit me since I joined the Army, but it was time for me to see Oklahoma again.” And to talk to Patricia face-to-face.

  He propped one foot on the table. Like her, he wore flip-flops, though his probably cost more than her entire flip-flop wardrobe, and it was an extensive collection, one she’d started years ago. “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope. I’m a happy only.” She’d liked having her parents’ attention to herself, being the sole grandchild-light of GrandMir and Popi’s lives. “You have sisters?”

  “Two sisters, one brother-in-law, a niece, and two nephews.” His smile was thin. “Except for assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins, that’s the extent of the Noble family.”

  And Patricia. She wanted him to include Patricia. She was his mother, after all, and she was alone and grieving and needed someone to love.

  “You’ve got us Grants outnumbered more than two to one. My parents are only children, too.” She’d noticed a dozen times through the meal that his ring finger was bare: no wedding band, no paler skin to indicate that one had ever been there. It had been a long time since she’d noticed such a thing. A long time since she’d sat opposite a gorgeous guy and wondered about his availability. It was a warm, shivery feeling in itself, and the ordinariness of it made it twice as nice. “No wife?”

  “No. My sisters say I’m married to my job.”

  “Is that enough?”

  His gaze darkened and shifted to stare off across the yard. Was he seeing the house on the other side, she wondered, or looking into the past? At someone who’d broken his heart? “Until recently it was.” After a moment, he looked at her again. “You ever been married?”

  “No. I always figured there was time for that and kids and college later.” Images flashed through her mind, and the corners of her mouth pulled down. “I was wrong. Time is more precious than I realized.”

  The words came out quietly, more regretful than she’d intended. She was grateful when the back door opened and Patricia’s cheery voice said, “Dessert! The best part of the meal.”

  Ben rose to help her with the tray she carried, setting it on the table. The three dishes were filled with pound cake, vanilla-bean-flecked ice cream, and a mix of mashed and sliced ripe peaches that practically drew a moan from Avi. Oh, she’d missed fresh Oklahoma peaches!

  “Can I get you some more wine, Avi?” Patricia asked, holding up the bottle from the dining table.

  “No, thank you.”

  “I won’t ask Ben. Even when he’s not on call, he doesn’t drink enough to get a hummingbird tipsy, in case he’s got to go in and assist in an emergency.” Patricia chose the chair to Avi’s left, handed her a dessert dish, then took her own and sank back. “I’ve got a son who’s a surgeon, a daughter who’s an oil leasing whiz, and one who’s raising the three most perfect kids you ever saw. Just how blessed am I?”

  There was that Oklahoma spirit again. Looking for the good in the worst of times. Avi intended to renew hers while she was home, to recover that indomitability, that glass-half-full optimism that made Oklahomans special. She had relied on a sense of fatalism to get through the last five years. What will be, will be. If it’s my time to die, I’ll die. If it’s my day to stick my hand inside my buddy’s chest and try to keep him from bleeding out but he does anyway, it’s meant to be.

  She and fatalism weren’t a good match.

  “This is delicious, Patricia,” she said, her yumms implied in her voice.

  “Isn’t the cake lovely? My dear neighbor, Lucy, baked it. She lives right across the yard there. She’s talked a time or two about opening her own restaurant or dessert shop. There’s a part of me that wants her to jump right into it and a part that really would prefer to keep all the excess goodies flowing in our direction.”

  “How is Lucy?” That came from Ben, intent on his dessert and asking the question as if it were an afterthought. Which, of course, made Avi think it wasn’t an afterthought at all. That answered her question about whether he’d been staring at the house a few moments earlier. Did it also answer her question about a broken heart?

  “She’s fine. I guess you didn’t have time to visit her this morning, what with Saturday clinic and all. Ben’s practice is so busy that they have to schedule clinics on Saturdays twice a month to get caught up on all their patients.” Patricia further explained, “Lucy and I are members of the Tuesday Night Margarita Club. Out of tragedy comes joy, they say, and the margarita sisters have provided me with a lot of joy.”

  Ben gazed at the house across the yard again, just for a moment, before explaining to Avi, “They’re also called the Fort Murphy Widows Club.”

  Avi caught herself from recoiling. She’d heard of such groups, but she’d never imagined anyone she knew actually claiming membership in one. Sure, in the beginning a person needed a support group, but after a while, wasn’t that just refusing to let go of the past and face the future?

  What do you know, Avery? You’re great at facing the future, but letting go isn’t one of your talents. You just drag all your sorrows right along with you.

  But she couldn’t forget. The people she’d known, the things they’d done…they should be remembered forever and ever, amen.

  The conversation turned lighter, tales about Patricia’s grandchildren, comments about great restaurants Avi had to try while she was in town, Patricia relating her conversation with Avi’s mother when she found out she would miss the first week of Avi’s visit.

  “I said, ‘Why, of course she wouldn’t schedule her first visit in a decade to coincide with your cruise. You know the Army. It’s just how things happen.’” Patricia laughed, easing the worry lines that seemed to have taken up permanent residence, then gave Avi a mock-stern gaze. “Don’t you ever let her know that’s exactly what you did. Your mama’s never been gone from home a month, much less twelve years like you. She doesn’t understand how much a person can need time alone, especially when that person is her baby girl.”

  “I’ll make it up to her, I promise.” Avi set her empty dish down, her stomach filled with sweet, cold summery goodness. “Let me help you with the cleanup, then I’d better head back to the house. It’s been a long day.”

  Patricia fluttered her hands in a brush-off gesture. “Forget about the cleanup. Ben stopped making that offer when he found out I was coming along behind him redoing everything.”

  “Is it my fault you’re compulsive about your dishes?” he asked, one brow raised.

  “I’m just a little compulsive,” she teased. As she stood, a frown furrowed her brows. “Avi, I didn’t see any car out front besides Ben’s. How did you get here?”

  “I walked. It’s not that far.”

  “Oh, sweetie, Ben will take you home. You don’t mind, do you, Ben? It’s not far, but with the sun going down and her being new in town…”

  Avi smiled, all too able to imagine the same arguments in her mother’s v
oice. Forget that Avi was a soldier, that she’d done five combat tours, that Tallgrass was about as safe as a place could be. She was Beth’s little girl, and she still needed protecting.

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Ben said.

  Patricia embraced Avi again, holding her tight enough to make her feel like a little kid, safe in her mother’s arms. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve prayed every day.”

  “Me, too.” Even when she’d wondered if God was listening. That hadn’t stopped her, though. Every day, whether full of faith or running on empty, she’d said her prayers. After all, what if she’d been too cynical to offer up prayers for their safety and one of her comrades had died that day? It wasn’t a risk she had been willing to take.

  With another squeeze, Patricia released her, then began gathering dishes. Ben gestured toward the driveway, and they headed that way. They walked in silence until they reached the street, where he stopped.

  “My car’s there.” He gestured to a sporty car out front that cost more than she’d made her last year in the desert. “You want a ride or do you prefer to walk?”

  She considered it a moment. She had a weakness for powerful little cars, especially after months when her primary mode of transportation was her own two feet or an MRAP, a mine-resistant ambush protected vehicle. But right now those feet wanted to move. “I’d rather walk, if you don’t mind.”

  He gestured in agreement, and she turned right. It was only three blocks west, then four blocks north, to the house Popi had built for GrandMir to celebrate their tenth anniversary. It was old and comfortable and had the best yard in town, and she loved it dearly.

  After a half block in silence, she said, “You don’t really have to see me all the way home.”