The Grunt (5 page)

Brett sucked his teeth. What else had she done while he was sleeping? He wondered if he had just dreamt that she’d kissed him or if last night was real. “Can you pass me my pants?” he asked, making sure to cover himself with the sheet. He had to pee and his morning boner was sticking up far enough to be noticed.

Courtney casually passed him his pants and nodded at his lap. “Nice to see you this morning, too, big boy.”

He blushed as she turned away and went back to the kitchen. “Bathroom is down the hall to your right,” she yelled as she banged around with the dishes.

***

After breakfast, Courtney drove Brett back west to Jacksonville to pick up his truck and Cameron at Joe’s place. It was a short pleasant drive in her Toyota Tundra, decorated with flowers and smelling of vanilla. Brett didn’t think the truck fit a woman at all, but strangely enough it fit her. With her surf board in the back and the music blasting, she wore a wide smile as she drove down the highway, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Brett had to admire her. She was not only beautiful but radiant. The sun had to compete with how bright she was, shining with every glance and every transparent smile. Even though he didn’t know her, he swore that she had nothing to hide. Flashes of the night before passed through his mind. Her smell had transferred over to him and lingered on his clothes even now. He doubted very much that he would wash his shirt, just to keep the smell of her near.

“Was I drunk or did you tell me that you didn’t have a job anymore?” Brett asked, turning down her radio.

“No, you weren’t drunk,” she said, looking over at him. “I’ll soon be unemployed.”

There was no worry in her voice. Again, he envied her.

Brett checked his phone. “Well, I’m going to need some help with Cameron. I was hoping for someone who could actually stay with me for a while. Would you be interested in the job? I’m sure that with the death benefit from the airline, I could afford to pay a lot better than the library. I live in Swansboro on East Ivybridge Drive. It’s a nice enough place.”

Courtney turned her lips up as she stopped at the red light. “Let me think about it,” she said, turning to him.

“Okay, just let me know.” He deflated.

“How can I let you know? I don’t have your number?” She lifted her brow at him.

“I’ll leave it with you. You can use it whenever you like,
even if you don’t want the job
.” He hoped that she would. It would be a shame to lose contact with her.

As the light turned green, Courtney turned her eyes from him and began to drive again. “Why would you ask me of all people?”

“Well, you work around children all day at the library, and Cameron seemed to have liked you.” He felt like he was being interviewed. Shifting in his seat, he groaned. “And I like you.” He looked over at her and found himself focusing on the dainty little mole on her neck.

In truth, he wanted to kiss her again right now to be sure that it was real. Her mouth had tasted like pure passion, like a woman with nothing to lose. He had never had that brand of woman before. It would be interesting to have
passion
again and to have her for the first time.

Courtney smiled. “You don’t think that could be a problem? Me in your house like that? It sounds awfully convenient.” She read his thoughts. “Especially after last night. Five minutes alone and we’re all over each other.”

“I can control myself,” he said, looking out the window as he lied. “Can you?”

Courtney wouldn’t lie. “Like I said, I’ll have to think about it.”

Brett chuckled under his breath. This woman was a real wild card. Shaking his head, he threw his arm out the window and tapped the top of the truck. “Well, like I said, just let me know.”

***

Cameron was just a kid. How did someone tell a kid that his mother had just died? As they sat across from each other at the pizza place, while other kids played with their mommies and screamed and laughed, Brett watched his son with weary eyes. This was his Cameron’s favorite place to eat. It only seemed right that he at least broach the subject here.

“How did you like hanging out with Judy and Joe last night?” Brett asked, taking a bite of his pizza. He locked eyes on him.

“It was fun. Joe Junior has a new Play Station,” Cameron answered, sucking down cola.

“There is something that I want to talk to you about,” Brett said, leaning into his son. “It’s really important.”

“Okay, daddy.”

Brett swallowed hard. “You know how Momma went away yesterday? Well, she won’t be coming back.”

“For how long?” Cameron asked. His eyes were bright with confusion. It broke Brett’s heart.
And people wondered why he hadn’t broke the news yet?

Choosing his words carefully, he ran a hand through his son’s tousled hair. “She won’t ever be coming back, buddy. But we have each other. I’ll never leave you. I’ll always be right here. And I know things are going to be
different
from now on, but I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make things comfortable for you.” He knew his choice of words were lacking. He sounded like he was putting the boy in hospice, but this was the best that he could do.

“Why isn’t she coming back?” Cameron asked with a whine, putting down his food.

Brett paused.
Did he really have to know the truth?
Wiping his hands on his napkin, he looked around the restaurant. “Because she went a long, long, long way away.” He thought about the funeral. There would be no body. It meant that he would have time to explain this later, when Cameron could understand it, when it would be fairer for the little tyke.

Cameron frowned as he watched his father’s face and the waves of raw emotion that washed over it. Sighing, he picked his pizza back up. “She’ll be back,” he said adamantly. “I know it.”

The one thing that Brett had kept his son from for as long as he could had been death. He didn’t want it to be such a real thing even though it had happened repeatedly around them. Brett’s father had passed the year that Cameron was born, his mother had passed last year. His neighbor, who was another good friend of the family and a hell of a Marine had been killed in Iraq last spring. Yet, Cameron had never been told about death. Now, he wished that he had something to refer to do – a dog, a fish, anything that kids could equate to the life cycle. There was nothing.

Good job
, he admonished himself quietly.

“We’ll talk about this again later on in life, okay sport?” Brett said, feeling himself choke up. He hoped that Cameron would give him some leeway on the subject.

“Okay, Daddy,” Cameron said clueless. “I want to go and play on the slide,” he said, getting up.

“Sounds good. I’ll take you over there,” Brett said, swallowing down his sadness. At least he still had him. And it was a much better trade off in his eyes.

***

It was an utter nightmare. As soon as Brett made the call to his mother-in-law, the drama began. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Riley wanted to know the answers to a host of questions that he could not provide, like why she was going to Japan and why he didn’t call the day before when he was first notified. He tried to keep his own feelings about them at bay while he explained as calmly as he could the order of events as explained by the guy who came from the airline. However, he didn’t have the finesse.

Mrs. Riley cried and screamed for her daughter while her husband tried as hard as he could to find a way to blame Brett.

Holding the phone away from his ear, he leaned against the kitchen table and looked at their wedding picture. He was starting to feel less numb all of a sudden. In fact, he was starting to feel downright depressed.

“I’m making arrangements now for Amy. I just thought that Mrs. Riley might want to help,” Brett said as he heard her crying in the background.

“We’ll do what we can,” Mr. Riley said with a sniffle. “Just tell me this. Why was our daughter headed to Japan?”

Brett huffed as he heard Mrs. Riley stop her crying to listen in on the explanation. “I think she was going to see a friend,” he answered as he gritted his teeth. These people made him physically ill.

“You
think she was going to see a friend
?” Mr. Riley snapped. “That’s an awfully long trip to make without knowing for sure where your wife was heading. Sharon doesn’t go to the grocery store without me knowing about it.”

“Well, I tried hard to give her the freedom she needed considering that I’m gone so much,” Brett countered. He was painfully close to telling them that their daughter was a cheating whore, but for the minute, he held that bit of information.

“That’s the problem with you kids and your damn new-fangled relationships. If you had put your foot down as the man of the house, she might still be alive,” Mr. Riley said with cynicism lacing his words.

Brett rolled his eyes. “So this is my fault. I’m without a wife and my son is without a fucking mother and the only thing that you can say is that I should have been more of a man? When was the last time you grabbed a weapon and stood a post? When was the last time that you had to be real man
as you call it
or be responsible for the decisions of an entire country? While you were up in your pulpit singing praises to God on Sunday and burning crosses on Saturday night, I was on the front line with a fucking Sniper Rifle and unit of men who were willing to leave their entire families so that you could enjoy that fucking first amendment that you abuse with those bullshit dual-standard sermons that you push on unsuspecting people.” His PTSD began to flare as did his nose. As his heart raced, he threw down the photo. “So, can your wife help me or not? There isn’t much to bury,
as you can imagine
. I can just arrange for a short funeral here, or we can do something there in Fayetteville at your church. It’s going to be up to you all. I don’t really give a fuck.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. His point had been made. Finally, Mr. Riley spoke. “We’ll see to it that
our daughter
receives a proper burial and after that, I don’t want to see you unless it’s to see our grandson.”

“You couldn’t have given me a better gift,” Brett said, hanging up the phone. He took a deep breath, tired of the many years of fighting with Amy’s family over their closet-freak daughter. Her family had always blamed him for her many mistakes – her irresponsible spending, her tantrums and now her death.

Leaning his head against the wall, Brett closed his eyes and tried to stop the room from spinning. Heat and anger boiled over within him. Damn her! Damn her to hell!

Hitting his fist against the wall, he slid down to the cold floor and buried his head in his lap. His heart thudded in his chest, beating so loud until it deafened him as he broke out in a cold sweat.

Amy was dead. Amy was leaving him. Amy didn’t love him. Those were not three opinions but three facts, and the new realizations were hard to swallow.

Embarrassed, he tried hard to hide his woeful sobs. The pain of trying to constrict his pain panged to the core of his broken heart. Cameron was in the next room watching television and finally seemed to be at peace. So, the last thing that he wanted was to let his boy see him in a state of panic. But the pain of his reality was weighing heavily upon him now. Holding his hand over his mouth, he quieted himself and wiped the tears from his face. He had to keep it together, not only for himself but also for his son. He was depending on him now. There was no one else.

But why did it have to be that way for him? After all the work, after all of the sacrifice and pain, why did he have to be alone? Why couldn’t he have someone to love him? Why didn’t he deserve someone who shared in all of his dreams and his hopes? Why could he not be with someone who appreciated who he was just as he was?

His questions were infinite and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

Pulling himself from the floor before he could dig into his own self-pity anymore, he wiped his face and looked up to the ceiling.

“I haven’t spoken to you in so long?” he said aloud. “I was so angry with you because of Allen and the way that he died. I have been
angry
with you because of what you haven’t helped me with. And I still don’t understand you. I won’t lie, but I’m asking you…I’m begging. Please God, send someone to help me,” he pleaded.

The room was silent and still, like it had been extracted from the universe and hung in the balance of some different place. The slow drip from the faucet stopped. The sounds of the television in the next room where Cameron sat quieted. Time itself halted.

He stood straight as a board, hands balled into fists, tears welding at the side of his red eyes, praying to the Being that he had turned away from during his last tour to a country that denied the very existence of his God and he waited.

Finally, exhaling a breath, he unclenched his jaw and dropped his shoulders.
What was he doing? Praying? Really?
He smirked to himself, nearly ready to give up, when suddenly his phone rang.

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his Blackberry and was stunned. “Hello,” he said in a deep, low voice.

“Hey Marine, it’s me. I did some thinking, and I’m ready to accept your offer. When do I start?” Courtney said cheerily.

Brett was speechless. He looked back up at the ceiling confused. “You couldn’t have called at a weirder time,” he said, walking to his back door. He gazed out at his backyard and the inches of weeds that needed mowing down.

“Should I call back?” Courtney asked concerned.

“No,” he said quickly. He released another sigh. “I’m glad you called. And I’m glad that you accepted my offer.”

“I know that you don’t have anything etched in stone yet, but after looking at all these damned bills that will be coming due after the next two weeks, I got to thinking and figured I better call before you hired someone else.”