Nickels (12 page)

Marcy pulled onto the main street in front of her
subdivision.  Her fingers tapped the wheel.  She was thinking.  He braced
himself for whatever it was.

“Be careful.  I don’t think she sees you the same way you
see her.”

A little knife stabbed his heart.  He knew the truth without
her saying it.  But, he hoped that he had shown Niki a different side of
himself tonight—maybe one that might help her forget who he was in high school
so she could see who he was now.

“I’m serious.  You’re gonna get hurt if you keep pursuing
her.”

“I’m not pursuing her.  I’m just being friendly.”

“I’ll bet.”

As she pulled to a stop behind his townhouse, she turned to
face him.

“Please, listen.  Neither one of you is ready for the type
of relationship you have in mind—”

“I don’t have anything particular in mind.”

“You do.  It’s written all over your face.  I’m just saying,
big brother, that I think you have enough to deal with right now.  You are
still going through a ton of physical therapy.  You’re still grieving.  You
still have to deal with what it means to have a role in Alana’s life.  And
you’re just getting familiar with a new job.  I think that’s plenty for now,
don’t you?”

Kyle bit down on his tongue.  Lashing out at Marcy wouldn’t
get him anywhere.

“I know you think you love her.  But, I don’t think you even
know her.  Not the real Niki.  Not the great and amazing woman she’s become.”

“In the mood for telling everyone’s secrets tonight?”  He
let his voice drip with acid.

“That’s not fair.  It’s just that…  I know her better than
anyone.  And I know you.  Neither one of you is ready for a serious
relationship.  If you press things too early…”  Marcy shook her head.  “I don’t
think it will end well for either of you.”

He pushed the car door open and stood.  Then he leaned down
to look at Marcy through the opening.

“I think I can handle it myself.  But, there is one thing I
need you to do for me.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell her about the accident.  Or Alana.  She’s going
to ask you questions and I don’t want you to answer them.”

Marcy frowned.  “Why not?”

“Because, I want to choose when she finds out.”

She clamped her lips into a tight thin line.  “She’s my best
friend.”

“And I’m your brother.”

“Fine!  I’ll keep my mouth shut.  But, promise me that if
things do get serious between you two that you’ll tell her everything. 
Promise.”

“I promise.”

He shut the car door and spun around on his heel.  He didn’t
need Marcy spewing her sappy, sentimental version of his life to Niki.  It’s
not that he didn’t trust his sister.  It’s just that he didn’t want to come out
sounding like a weakling or a failure.  It was bad enough he felt that way.  He
didn’t need her seeing him that way.

Kyle unlocked the door and stepped through.  He flipped on
the light.  He headed for the prescription pain killers and downed one. 
Hopefully it would kick in soon.  He felt awful and really needed a good
night’s sleep.

He flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV.

What am I doing?
  Marcy was right, yet again.

He didn’t really know Niki—not who she was now.  Even after
only a week working with her, he understood that much.  She wasn’t the same shy
and reserved girl.  Now she was strong.  More than capable of putting grown men
in their place.  He saw her do it with Todd at work.

A war waged in his mind.  He fought against the image he
built up of Niki over all these years versus the image of who she was now.  He
just needed to let go of what he remembered and see her for who she was now.

Then, if he still had feelings for her, he would figure out
what to do next.

The next morning, when Marcy entered the kitchen for a cup
of coffee, Niki jumped on the opportunity to solve the mystery of why Kyle was
here.

“What happened to Kyle?  Why did he leave the Air Force?”

Marcy sipped her black coffee, a frown crossing her brow. 
“I told him you’d ask.  Ugh!  He made me promise not to tell you.”

“When did he make you promise that?”

“Last night.  He said he wanted to tell you and since it was
his business it should be in his time and his way.”

Niki sighed.  She still wasn’t going to find out what was up
with Kyle Jacobs.

And it made her twice as curious.

Chapter 12

Memorial Day.
  Niki lay in bed staring up at the
ceiling, blinking the sleep from her eyes.  It came too fast this year.  She
was not ready for today and its traditions.  Shouldn’t grieving get easier as
time goes on?  Why then was this dark day looming before her ready to consumer
her?

She looked over at the clock on her bed stand.  7:00 a.m. 
Darn it.  She couldn’t even sleep in, letting some of this day slip by
unconsciously.

Reluctantly, she threw the covers back from the bed,
dropping her feet to the floor with a soft
thud
.  She pushed up from the
bed and walked into her closet.  Tossing her head back, she stared up at the
box on the top shelf.  She retrieved the small step stool from its hiding place
and set it on the floor.  Then she reached up and pulled the box down,
balancing it on her shoulder as she stepped off the stool.  Carrying it to her
bed, she gently set the box down as if it contained the most precious of
jewels.  She put her hands on the lid, poised ready to open it.

Maybe she should get some coffee first.

Maybe she should give up this ritual.

Her hands remained still on the top of the lid.  Where was
her nerve today?  She never hesitated this much before.

Deciding to put this off for a few more minutes, Niki walked
down the hallway to the kitchen.  She started some coffee.  Her gaze bored a
hole in the pot as she waited for it to brew.  When it finally did, she poured
a cup, drowning it in caramel flavored creamer.  Two swirls of the spoon and
the liquid was the perfect color.  She leaned against the counter, sipping the
brew.  When she looked up, her eyes went to the picture of Jack on the wall.

Jack.  I don’t think I can do this today. I know this is
the day every year that I remember you, mom, and dad—but I…

She swiped at the tear rolling down her cheek.

Nothing has ever been the same since you left.  I don’t
even know where you are.  Marcy says there is some kind of life after death. 
Is that where you are?  In heaven?  Or was your existence a mere twenty-two
years and then nothing?

Niki finished off the first cup of coffee and poured a
second.  Walking back to her room, she shut the door, hoping to shut out the
thoughts.  She set the mug on the flat footboard of her bed.  She sat on the
edge of the bed, still hesitating.  After jumping up to grab some tissues, she
settled back on the bed and stared at the box.

She opened the lid then slowly removed each treasure. 
Jack’s flag from the Air Force—the one draped over his coffin—now neatly folded
into a triangle and preserved in the cherry frame.  She lightly ran her fingers
over the glass case.  If only a flag could comfort you.  If only a flag could
watch you graduate, or give you desperately needed advice.  But no flag could
replace her brother.  She gently laid the flag beside the box, letting the
tears flow.  She was a mess and this was only the first item.

Reaching in, she pulled out the picture of Jack’s graduation
from the Air Force boot camp, mere weeks before they lost their parents.  She
propped it against the flag, then took out the next tangible memory.

Mom and Dad’s wedding picture.  Ironic that it was the one
picture of them she kept in this box considering their marriage was so rocky. 
Had they not been killed, it probably would have ended in divorce.  But, this
picture meant something different for her.  She didn’t keep it because it
symbolized her parents’ marriage.  She kept it because it was constant.  No
matter where they moved, no matter how long they lived there, this picture was
always displayed.  It was one of the few unchanging and reliable things in her
life.

Laying the picture aside, she pulled the most sacred, most
treasured pieces next—the letters from Jack while he was deployed in
Afghanistan.  She still found it odd that he would have written so many,
especially after writing next to nothing when he was in basic training and
technical school.  Maybe he somehow knew she would need these more.

She pulled the first one from the stack—the first one he
wrote.

September 28, 2001

Nickels,

Sorry this is the first letter I’m getting out to you.  We’ve
been swamped getting set up.  You wouldn’t believe it.  How these poor people
live.  It’s heart breaking.

Funny thing—you know how we always talk about those religious
fanatics in the service—you know, Christians.  I’m bunking next to one.  Joined
at the hip with this guy.  It’s weird.  In light of what we’ve seen here, I
don’t mind it.  He’s got a pretty positive attitude.  And it’s comforting to
think that there might be someone bigger than us watching out for us.  We need
it.

Sorry, out of time.  I’m staying safe.  Be good.

Jack

She sniffed, letting her hand fall to her lap with the
letter.  Too bad that someone bigger didn’t save his life and didn’t bring him
home.  Something about the thought reopened the hollow hole in her heart.

“Niki,” Marcy’s soft voice came from her doorway.  “So
early?”

She didn’t turn around as she nodded.  Marcy entered her
room.  Standing behind Niki, she wrapped her arms around her.  Niki’s tears
turned to sobs as Marcy rocked her back and forth.  The emptiness engulfed her.

After several minutes, her sobs turned to hiccups.

“How long will you torture yourself like this every year?”  Marcy
moved to look her in the eye.  “I’m worried.  It seems like this just makes it
harder for you to let go.”

Niki wiped her eyes with her twentieth tissue.  She had a
similar thought this morning.  Maybe it was time to stop this insanity. 
Leaving the letters on the bed, she packed away the pictures and the flag.

“Maybe you’re right.”  She placed the lid on the box.

Marcy reached for the box resting her dainty hand on top. 
“Would you like me to take this for you?  Keep it away from you until you’ve
let go?”

Niki considered the idea.

“Just tell me,” Marcy said.  “How can I help you?”

Keeping the letters back—she couldn’t let those go yet—she
pushed the box towards her friend.  “Take it.”

Marcy nodded and lifted the box from the bed.  She paused in
the doorway.  “This is a good thing, okay?”

She looked at Marcy and nodded slowly, before Marcy took the
box away.  Looking back down at the letters, Niki picked up the next one.  Then
she stopped.  She would not do this to herself.

Standing, she walked into her bathroom and readied herself
to face the day. 

When she finished showering, she put on her bikini then
headed for the kitchen.  She poured ice water in a large reusable bottle. 
Flipping a beach towel over her shoulder, she opened the sliding glass door. 
Scrounging around in the box of pool accessories, she found her favorite
inflatable raft and tossed it in the water.  She set the towel on a nearby
chair then kicked off her flip-flops.  She waded into the pool, putting the
water bottle in the raft’s cup holder.  Then she shimmied onto the raft,
letting her ponytail hang over the edge above her head.

Paddling slowly with her hands, she positioned the raft to
face the sun’s rays.  She closed her eyes, soaking up the heat, on this day
that promised to be a record breaker.

Ever since the ill-fated dinner with Marcy six weeks ago,
Niki couldn’t seem to pull herself from this funk.  She was tired of feeling
empty inside.  Tired of feeling alone.  It was stupid.  She had Marcy.  She had
her work.  Shouldn’t those things be enough?