A Soldier Finds His Way (31 page)

“Thanks, I did need to hear it.”

Marcus shifted into the role of gracious host. “Are you hungry? My mom brought us a pot roast, mashed potatoes, gra—”

“No thanks. I’m fine. They fed us well on the plane coming over from Frankfurt.” Food was the last thing on Edward’s mind. He needed to talk because he had so much more to say. To continue would risk breaking down and crying like a kid again in front of Marcus. Not a pleasant thought. But, he’d have to chance it. “I didn’t realize when I snuck out of the movie at the mess hall that night that the forces of good and evil would collide in our tent and that good would prevail without ever having thrown a punch.”

Edward leaned forward on the edge of his seat cushion and fixed his attention on Marcus’s face. A tear escaped and ran down his cheek. But now, he didn’t care. “Here’s what I needed to say to you, face to face.” He paused to compose himself. “Thank you for not giving up on me, Marcus.”

The medic’s jaw went slack.

Edward swallowed with a loud gulp and dragged his sleeve cuff across his nose. “That night I realized how offensive I was to God, how I spit on everything holy and had no regard for His Son’s sacrifice. I asked God. No, I begged Him, to forgive me and help me to become a good man. A good man, measured according to His standards, that is.”

Marcus’s lips moved as if he couldn’t quite wrap his mouth around the words he wanted to say. His eyes sparkled with moisture. “This is great news. Really great news. I’m overwhelmed by it, actually.”

“I know. It’s a lot to take in. I’m still trying to sort things out.”

Marcus’s initial look of surprise morphed into something different. Not exactly a smile, but close. Without a doubt, what Edward had just revealed touched him deeply and brought a great deal of joy. And why shouldn’t it? The man had devoted his life to caring for people, both physically, and spiritually, hadn’t he?

Edward settled back in his chair. He’d made peace with God and apologized for bashing his buddy’s face. He should be happy. But, his gut was still churning.

“LT,” Marcus said. “You’re ruminating over something right now. What is it? What’s troubling you?”

“I can’t seem to—” Giving a cat a bath would probably be easier than talking about personal things.

“Are you thinking about your mother?”

“No.” He shook his head. “That night, I forgave her for what she did to me. I realized I’d been using her as my excuse to justify the rotten way I turned out. It was time to let go of the anger. And I did.” He flashed a small smile. “At least I’m working on letting it go.”

Marcus nodded and mirrored Edward’s shallow smile, his face rife with understanding.

“Hank probably told you I lived with him and our foster parents, Marlene and Benjamin Shultz, for five years before I joined the army. They were good to me. I couldn’t have asked for better. They didn’t deserve what I put them through. I spent a lot of time getting picked up by the police for fighting, vandalizing, and stupid stuff like that.”

The memories hurt, but he couldn’t skirt around them. “Right before I turned seventeen, I got into trouble again. It’s a long story. I won’t go into it. Marlene pulled her weight with the judge, they were old acquaintances, and saved me from having to go to juvenile detention until I was eighteen. Then, on my birthday…” The vivid scene filled his senses. The warmth of the kitchen, the smell of baked goods, Marlene’s smile. It hurt just to think about what he’d done.

Marcus touched his arm. “It’s okay, buddy. Tell me what happened.”

“I left my room and went downstairs to the kitchen. Marlene had baked a chocolate layer cake with chocolate frosting. My favorite. It was sitting on the counter on a white plate. She picked it up, held it toward me, smiled from ear to ear, and said, ‘Happy birthday, son.’”

Tears fell down Edward’s face. “In a rage, I knocked the cake out of her hands. The plate hit the edge of the counter and made a loud cracking sound before it all crashed to the floor. I leaned into her face and screamed, ‘You’re not my mother!’ I’d hurt her in the worst possible way. It was the only time I’d ever seen her cry.”

He wiped his face. “I left and never went back. I thought about it several times. I don’t know why I stayed away. Shame? Guilt? I don’t know. It eats at me that I left in such a cruel, ungrateful and selfish way.”

Marcus listened to his story without saying a word, but looked at him with the same compassion as the night Edward had bashed his face.

“What do you think I should do?”

Marcus rose from the couch and smiled down at Edward. “You should go and mend some fences with those people. I think you already knew the right thing to do. You just needed confirmation.” He went over and picked up Edward’s duffel bag. “Come on, LT. Let me show you to your room. Get a good night’s sleep, have breakfast with me and Darlene, and start out early in the morning.”

* * * *

“Reckon you ought to wake him up?” The feminine voice outside Edward’s door was Southern to the bone.

“Naw,” Marcus drawled. “Let him sleep a bit longer.”

Edward raised onto his elbows. Daylight came through the mini blinds and painted pinstripes of light across the bed. He got up and fished a pair of wrinkled jeans from his bag, put them on and pulled a T-shirt over his head. After freshening up in the bathroom across the hall, he made his way to the kitchen.

A very-pregnant Mrs. Weatherly stood leaning against the kitchen sink with a glass of orange juice in her hand. Her swollen belly pressed against a blue dress and lifted the front hem a little higher than the back. A long, thick braid of brown hair draped over her left shoulder and lay atop her breast. She stroked her stomach in a loving gesture as if to sooth the child within her.

Marcus pulled a baking dish from the oven and set it on the stovetop. His face lit up when he saw Edward standing in the doorway. He tossed a pair of potholders aside and moved closer to his wife.

“Sweet pea,” Marcus said. “This is my good friend, Edward Giordano. Edward,” Marcus’s smile gleamed with pride, “this is my beautiful wife, Darlene, and this here,” he patted her belly, “is our son, whose name we’ve yet to agree on.”

Darlene smiled. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Edward.” Her heavy Southern drawl made Marcus’s seem light in comparison.

He accepted the hand she extended. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Marcus rubbed his hands together. “All right, let’s eat.”

Edward sat at the table with Darlene.

Marcus scooped some sort of breakfast casserole onto plates and set it in front of them before coming to the table with his own dish. Man and wife joined hands and both reached for Edward’s.

He linked hands with them and bowed his head.

“Lord, thank You for this food, and for our health,” Marcus prayed. “And thank You for bringing our friend, our brother, Edward safely to our home yesterday. Bless him on his journey to New York. Reunite him with his family, and let him feel Your presence and guiding hand along the way. We ask these things in Jesus name. Amen.”

“Amen.” Edward looked over at Marcus. “Thank you for that.”

* * * *

Freshly showered and shaved, Edward put on the last clean uniform he had in his bag. He tossed his backpack over his shoulder, picked up his duffel, and left the bedroom.

Darlene and Marcus met him at the front door.

“Ma’am,” Edward said, “about what happened to—”

“My husband’s face?” She smiled. “Yeah, I know. Marcus said it was the most worthwhile punch in the kisser he ever got. I told him to keep his sacrificial face out of the line of fire next time. And—” She stopped and winced.

“What is it, sugar?” Marcus put an arm around her shoulder.

Darlene put a hand on each side of her belly. “Sometimes, I swear, it feels like a couple of bulldog puppies fighting inside a pillowcase. There, he settled down. Whew.” She wiped her brow and cast off imaginary sweat with the shake of her hand. “I gotta go sit down. Good-bye, Edward. Have a safe trip and come see us again.”

“I will, thank you. Take care.”

Darlene smiled sweetly, turned, and headed for the living room chair.

Edward loaded his stuff in the car and turned to Marcus. What do you say to someone who was instrumental in changing the course of your life? To offer a simple thank you seemed beyond insufficient. He grabbed Marcus into a hug. One like Hank had always given to him. A hug that bonded brothers together and expressed what couldn’t be said in words.

Marcus reciprocated and squeezed him hard for a few seconds, then stepped back and looked Edward in the eye. “Godspeed, my brother.”

Edward pulled out of the driveway, waved one last time, and set his sights on New York.

Everything was exactly as Edward remembered, from the black oversized mailbox to the rowboat tied to the dock on the sparkling lake. The car’s engine idled on the side of the road while he took it all in. The house, the workshop, everything appeared untouched by time. Those things hadn’t changed, but he had.

Sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel. He dried them on his pants, shifted into low gear, and turned onto the property. A thick matting of pine needles softened the sound of the tires as they rolled down the meandering driveway to the house. He parked, got out, stood at the front door, and knocked.

Shuffling like that of house slippers came from inside the door. He flexed his hands several times, puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath.

The door opened. Marlene looked up from her diminutive, five-foot-one stature. Her jaw trembled, her face contorted, and crystal tears started to flow. She touched his cheek. “Edward? Can it be true?”

He swallowed hard. “Mom? I-I’m home.” A presumptuous thing to say, but there was no taking it back.

Marlene wrapped her arms around him and wept. “Edward, oh, my Edward.”

He bent and kissed the top of her head. A tear clung like a dewdrop on a strand of her hair before it disappeared into her dark, but silver-glittered waves.

“Marley?” Benjamin called from somewhere inside the house. His voice grew louder as he neared the door. “Marley, who is it? Who’s at the—”

Edward’s eyes met Benjamin’s. “Dad,” he whispered.

Knees almost buckling, Benjamin took a wobbly step, then another before springing forward and throwing his arms around Edward. His kisses pressed hard against Edward’s cheek and forehead as if he were trying to deposit love deep into his skin. “My son, my son. Thank You, Lord, You’ve brought him home to us.”

Home
.
Could a sweeter word ever be spoken?

“Come, Edward. Let me fix you something to eat.” Marlene’s language of love. She filled bellies and, in the process, hearts. How blind he’d been not to understand until now.

Benjamin walked with an arm secure around Edward’s shoulder and guided him toward the kitchen behind Marlene.

They neared the sofa. Edward stopped. “Mom, Dad, please sit with me. There are things I have to say to you. Please, let me.”

They joined him as he sat.

Ben and Marlene deserved more thanks than he could ever put into words. But, he’d have to try. “No one else wanted me.” It all came back. The empty hallway, the hard wooden bench, and the voice of a desperate social worker on the phone, trying to get someone, anyone, to take him.

“But, you took me in. You loved and cared for me. In return, I caused you nothing but heartache. I was angry, rebellious, and selfish. I could only see my pain and didn’t recognize yours.” The weight of past failures pressed hard on his chest.

“You’ve been nothing but good to me. I’m so sorry for the way I’ve treated you. Mom, Dad, I love you. Please, forgive me.”

Marlene rested a hand on his knee. “Do you remember the day you came to live with us?”

How could he forget? “Like it was yesterday.”

“I kissed your cheek and said good night. At that moment, I knew you were my son.” She patted the area over her heart and closed her eyes as if she were savoring the moment over again.

“We love you, Edward,” Benjamin said. “Welcome home.”

* * * *

Edward caught the cordless phone Benjamin tossed to him.

“Why don’t you call your brother?” Benjamin said. “He’ll be elated when you tell him you’ve been sitting here, in this house, talking to us for the past hour and a half.”

Could Ben and Marlene be any happier? If their smiles were any bigger, their lips would wrap around their ears. They sat close and cozy on the loveseat, watching him as he dialed.

“Hello,” Hank answered.

“Hey.”

“Dad?” Hank’s rising intonation gave away his uncertainty.

“No, this is Edward.”

“Eddie? But.”

He chuckled. Hank was probably double-checking the caller ID.

Hank came back on the line. “You’re calling from Mom and Dad’s?”

“Yes, I’m at Mom and Dad’s. I—”

Hank whooped louder than a cowboy riding a bronco.

Edward jerked the phone away from his ear. He covered the receiver for a few seconds then listened again. All quiet.

“Hank?” He shrugged and threw up a hand. “He hung up.”

Marlene laughed. “He’s probably in his Jeep heading this way right now. If I were you, I’d brace myself. His greeting is apt to be more like being mauled by a happy bear.”

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, the front door swung open. Edward bolted from his seat and met Hank halfway. Marlene’s prediction wasn’t far off. Hank’s bear-like embrace would probably knock the wind out of a weaker man.

Cricket whined and bumped into Edward’s legs.

He squatted and petted her a few moments. “Hey, pretty girl. Surprised to see me here?”

Hank chuckled. “I don’t know about her, but I sure am. How long have you been here?”

“Two hours, give or take.” Edward gave the dog a final pat and sank into the couch across from Benjamin and Marlene.

Hank fell into the overstuffed leather armchair to Edward’s right. “Have you seen Audra yet?”

A knowing smile passed between Benjamin and Marlene. They joined hands. Without a doubt, Hank had already told them about Audra, the rescue, and everything that’d happened since.