Authors: Sandra Leesmith
The
bitterness and anger were unmistakable – self-hatred. Most troubled vets hated
their circumstances, hated the directions their lives had taken because of the
war. But Zane seemed content with his life. It was himself he had difficulty
dealing with.
It
could be that his problems weren’t related to the war, or only distantly so.
She didn’t think it was mid-life crisis. He was too sure of himself for that.
Something had happened recently; something triggering a lot of buried wounds.
Vinnie
didn’t respond to Zane’s remark. It must not be anything new. Instead he
continued talking. “Ma’s working now.”
Zane
stiffened. “What’s she working for?”
Vinnie
lifted his hand to quickly assure him. “Not for money.”
“Why
then?”
“It’s
not really a job. It’s volunteer work. Keeps her mind occupied. Helps fill in
her time. With worries about…”
Vinnie
paused, but it was obvious to her and probably to Zane that he preferred not to
bring up the fact that Zane’s isolation caused worry in the family.
Zane’s
fist clenched so tight around his glass of wine that Margo feared it would
shatter in his hand. He set it down with a thud. “Does she like it?” His voice
was strained.
Vinnie
ignored the tension. “Loves it. She volunteers for Make a Wish. It’s a group
that grants wishes to children with terminal illnesses.”
Vinnie
went into further detail, but Margo sensed Zane wasn’t listening. He’d
retreated within himself again. It appeared he felt guilty about what his
actions did to the family. Good. She could use that to convince him to face
them.
When
the last bite had been eaten, Vinnie slid off his stool and gathered the
plates. “How about coffee?” he asked.
Zane
said nothing.
“Sounds
great to me.” Margo spoke for the first time in the last half hour. Not only
did she want a cup, but it would also give them an excuse to remain longer. She
had a feeling the meal was going to be the extent of Zane’s hospitality, for
today anyway.
“Fix
the coffee, Zane, while I go get some stuff out of the Bronco. I have some
papers you need to sign.”
Vinnie
didn’t wait for Zane to agree but hurried across the room and out through the
sliding glass door. Margo shifted, waiting to see what Zane would do, which turned
out to be nothing. He sat staring at the empty counter in front of him.
Margo
decided to break the ice. “Vinnie’s efficient. Seems to have everything planned
to the last detail,” she commented. “He’s handling the business affairs of your
family now that you’re here, isn’t he?”
Margo
studied Zane’s closed expression. He was the oldest. He should be running the
business. Was he resentful? Did he want the reins back? “Do you miss being
involved?” she asked.
His
expression hardened. “It’s best
this
way, so leave it.”
Margo
shrugged to ward off his sudden defensiveness. “Just curious. It’s my job to
ask questions.”
“Yeah.
About that. No treatment.” His glance traveled the full length of her. “It
wouldn’t work.”
“Because
I’m a woman?”
She’d
hit home with that one. It didn’t surprise her. Most of her male patients
resisted that at first.
“Partly.”
At least he was honest. “Just forget it. It’s not time.”
That
was a normal reaction. Setting off on a journey to face oneself could be the
most frightening step in one’s life.
“We’ll
take it slow.” She shrugged. “I’ll drive up on the weekends. We can work
mornings or afternoons. Whichever you prefer. We’ll just talk and get to know
each other.”
She
hoped by the end of the month she’d establish trust and a beginning. They’d
both know if they wanted to work together.
“You’re
here now because of Vinnie. Nothing else.” Determination rang in his voice.
“After this you’re gone.”
Margo
didn’t argue. It would only serve to strengthen his resistance. She stood and
took a step back. “That’s fine – I only…” When she took another step her leg
bumped a table. It moved and she was suddenly falling. She grasped at empty
space as she struggled to get her feet back under her. Zane jumped forward and
grabbed her middle.
“Easy
there.”
The
hardness had left his voice. His fingers were firm yet gentle as they spanned
her waist and pulled her upright. She tried to stand but overcompensated and
ended up falling toward him.
“Good
grief!” she exclaimed as she pushed away from his chest. Her feet found solid
ground, but his hold was creating a new disturbance to her equilibrium. His
concern was genuine and Margo found its effect disturbing. “Nice way to make an
impression,” she tried to joke.
On
her feet now, she stepped away from his grasp and ignored the sudden and
unwelcome awareness of the fact that she was attracted to him. But there was
more than that. They were doctor and patient. She lifted her gaze to his. “I
can help you.”
She
could see his expression closing up. Quickly she went on before he could set
his decision. “How about this afternoon then? Let me spend it with you. You
might change your mind after you know me better.”
As
he straightened upright, he muttered under his breath. He raked large fingers
through his hair while he stared at the high-beamed ceiling. Suddenly he turned
to her.
“No
way. You ate and can have coffee. But after that you’re out of my life.” He
swept his arm toward the door.
Margo
remained immobile. It took every bit of control she possessed to keep her own
annoyance at his stubbornness hidden. With a serious expression, she nodded.
“That’s fine.”
He
stiffened and Margo suspected it was with surprise. Good. Let him see she could
be agreeable. He didn’t know her techniques to get people to open up and talk.
“I’ll
fix the coffee.”
The
gruffness in his voice almost made her want to smile. He was trying so hard to
appear callous. She suspected it wasn’t his true nature at all, especially
after seeing him with the deer yesterday and with his brother today.
While
Zane moved into the kitchen and fixed coffee, she studied his features. His
movements were fluid, confident. Outwardly he didn’t appear to be troubled.
Whatever problems existed were buried deep.
There
had to be a way to make Zane accept treatment. She had a feeling he just needed
a nudge back into the world and she suspected he was ready. He’d been too
active all of his life to continue with this isolation for much longer. She
could sense his restlessness, feel the underlying tension.
***
Zane
shoved mugs across the counter while he waited for the coffee to brew. He still
couldn’t believe he’d let her stay. Of course, Vinnie was here. But still, he
should’ve sent them packing. Why hadn’t he? Could it be he was lonelier than
he’d believed possible? Was there a place deep inside that was pleased about
her presence? There sure shouldn’t be.
Here
this strange woman shows up, announces she wants to treat him, and then moves
in on his privacy – a privacy that for years he’d guarded with care. Was he
crazy? Yeah, maybe after all these months of isolation, he’d finally gone off
the deep end. He let loose with a couple of choice oaths.
“Something
I said?” Her voice held wariness.
“I
must be crazy to let you stay another minute.” Or was he just a sucker for big
brown eyes?
“Don’t
analyze it. Just accept and relax. Actually, therapy’s very similar to this. We
can just talk and develop a working relationship.”
Therapy?
Was she serious? He thought about how she’d felt in his arms a moment ago. “You
married?”
“No.”
“Why
not?”
She
swiveled the stool around with her foot. “I’m not good wife material.”
If
she wasn’t, he didn’t know what was. “You aren’t a man-hater, are you?”
She
laughed at that. “No. My work takes a lot of my time.”
He
could relate to that. It had been part of the problem with his ex-wife. Janice
had hated his trips to sea with the fleet or the overtime at the office. What
she didn’t understand was that the problem was more involved than his long
hours of work. He didn’t understand all of the complexities himself.
“You
must enjoy Vinnie’s visits. I imagine it’s nice to have someone to talk to
besides yourself.”
“Not
this time.” He reacted automatically and then realized it wasn’t true. In fact,
he had enjoyed the family stories and reminiscing with his brother. Was Vinnie
right? Was he ready to rejoin the world? He shifted uneasily.
“Vinnie
didn’t bore me if that’s what you think. I enjoyed hearing the tales.”
She
sure could smile. Maybe it was just Margo Devaull’s world he wanted to join. He
put the canister of coffee away and listened to her voice.
“You
see, I don’t have any siblings so stories about their relationships always
interest me.”
Siblings?
Obviously
shrink talk. He tried not to be interested.
“I
mean – you and your brother sound like you had a great time growing up
together. And you still get along.”
Did
they get along? Yes, but they weren’t close anymore. He’d made sure of that.
“I
understand you and your mother are close. I imagine she misses you.”
Guilt.
Pain. Would they ever go away? He didn’t like to think about how his retreat
from society had affected his mother. He knew it hurt, but he couldn’t face her
lately, and he wasn’t sure why.
“They
miss me.” He couldn’t keep the bitter edge from his voice.
“You
sound angry when you say that.”
He
shook his head and looked at her. Already he’d told her more than he meant to.
Clever.
He’d have to watch his step.
She
leaned against the counter and cupped her chin in her hand, obviously ready to
listen.
He
closed his mouth and gripped the handle of his mug. No way would he tell her
about the guilt he tried so hard to forget.
Zane
left the shade of the thatched hut on the outskirts of the village where they’d
landed with supplies. In spite of the hot sun burning his skin through his
fatigues, he had to get some air. The stench inside of sweat, smoke, and fear
was suffocating.
He’d
worked through most of the night, manning the machine gun as the choppers
transported men and supplies near Hue. Every muscle in his body ached. His eyes
burned as he tried to focus on the Marine who approached.
“Hey,
Zanelli. Did you hear the news?”
“What
news, man? The only news I want to hear is that we’re leaving this stinking
jungle.” He thought of his bunk in Phu Bai.
“That’s
it. They’re sending me home,” the Marine yelled.
Home.
In spite of the humid heat and the sweat pouring off his brow, Zane shivered.
Icy chills traced down his spine as the news sank in. He wanted out of here,
but could he go home? Could he face his mother, Vinnie, and especially Rita?
Zane
stared at his hands. His palms were calloused and his fingers long and strong.
He’d saved hundreds of lives with these hands. To do so he had to fire at the
enemy. He flexed his fingers. These hands could save…and they could kill.
Suddenly
Zane wasn’t sure he could face his family. He deserved to be shot for what he
did. Enraged, Zane looked past the bamboo fence of the compound. He walked
toward the barrier, not caring that he’d cross the perimeter.
“Hey,
man. Where you going?” the Marine hollered.
Zane
kept walking.
“Zanelli!
Get back here.”
Others
screamed at him, but he ignored them – until he heard the scurry of their feet
as they ran to block his attempt to make the bush. Zane ran. He hit the fence
and started to climb, but he couldn’t move. Too many hands grabbed at him.
“The
place is booby-trapped with mines.”
“Get
back here, man.”
“Let
me go!” Zane shouted. He wanted to die.
“Zane?”
Her
voice interrupted his memories, but it was her assessing look that brought him
back to the present. He’d been silent too long. A question was forming and he
could guess what it was. Abruptly he grabbed the coffeepot and poured. “Have
your coffee. Vinnie’s outside.”
He
could tell she was disappointed, but she smiled and stood. “When you’re through
can we talk? I think we should take a few minutes alone and go over our
options.”
He
started to argue but saw the determined set of her chin. There was only one
option as far as he was concerned. He’d make sure she understood. “Fine. I’ll
be back.”
***
Before
she could answer, he turned and left the room. Margo swung back toward the
counter and sipped her coffee. He was planning to send her on her way, but she
hadn’t given up hope. She’d seen flickers of response.