The War Within (27 page)

Jordan straightened her name tag when a pair of guests with three preteen kids in tow approached the front desk. As Jordan checked them in, the parents asked her for her opinion of the water park that dominated the landscape on the south side of the island.

“The slides are awesome. One is over thirty feet tall, so it provides a serious adrenaline rush. If you’re looking for something more sedate, you can go tubing on Turtle Creek. It’s half a mile long and the stream is slow-moving, which gives you plenty of time to enjoy your day.”

“Great. Thanks for the information.”

“No problem. And if you have any more questions about the water park, there are several brochures in the kiosk across the lobby.”

“Thanks again.”

Jordan handed them their keys and gave them the directions to their room.

“I was going to ask Larry how you’re doing with the guests, but I think I’ve seen the answer for myself.” Tatum rolled her wheelchair across the lobby, Lincoln following closely behind. “You could have a future in the hospitality industry—or any other you set your mind to.”

“Thanks.”

Jordan hadn’t seen or heard Tatum come into the lobby. She wondered how long Tatum had been watching her. And if Tatum liked what she saw.

“Granted, I haven’t been in this business very long, but I’ve been in it long enough to know some people aren’t going to be happy no matter what you do. Larry says you’ve managed to keep a pretty level head despite the curveballs a couple of guests have tried to throw at you. He thinks you’re going to work out well for us and I’m inclined to agree.” Tatum slowed the wheelchair’s progress with her hands. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No. Grandma Meredith made spaghetti last night. I have some leftovers in the break room. I was planning on nuking them in the microwave in a few minutes.”

“Correction. You
had
leftovers in the break room.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Hilda in accounting cleans out the refrigerator every Friday. The rule is, she’s supposed to toss anything that’s on the verge of becoming a science experiment, but she doesn’t bother to check labels or expiration dates, so everything ends up in the trash.”

“I thought Riley was kidding when she said Friday was takeout day.”

Tatum tossed a pile of takeout menus on the counter. “Order whatever you like. Dinner’s on me. Most of the offerings are pizza or subs, I’m afraid, so I hope you aren’t counting carbs.”

“I’m sure I can find something.” Jordan gathered the scattered menus into a neat stack. “Would you care to join me?”

“Sure. Why not? It would save me from having to make a trip home to try and scrounge up something on my own.”

Tatum came around the front desk. While Jordan busied herself petting Lincoln, Tatum pulled a pneumatic desk chair toward her and transferred herself into it. With the touch of a button, she raised the chair from its lowest setting to its highest. Her legs dangled uselessly in the air. As she carefully placed her feet on the chair’s circular footrest, she looked at the bouquet of flowers Jordan had placed on the counter and unabashedly read the accompanying card resting on Jordan’s keyboard. The card and flowers had added an unexpected bright spot to Jordan’s otherwise down day. A local florist’s logo was printed on the card, but Brittany’s name was scrawled under the handwritten note, which read,
I never learned to agree to disagree very tactfully. Sorry for being an asshole. Friends?

Jordan examined Tatum’s face, trying to gauge her reaction to what she’d read, but Tatum didn’t give her anything to go on.

“Who’s Brittany?”

“My ex.”

“Are you two planning on kissing and making up?” Tatum stared at one of the menus as if she had never seen anything so fascinating.

“No. We didn’t pull any punches when we broke up. She’s just trying to apologize for hurting my feelings. At least, I think that’s what she’s doing. I’ve given up on trying to figure her out. She gave up on me a while ago, it seems, but it took longer for me to get the message.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Water under the bridge.”

Tatum finally met her eye. Jordan couldn’t get over the directness of her gaze. Was that why she felt so unsettled right now or was it something else? Every time she resolved one problem, another popped up to take its place.

“Are you okay?” Tatum asked.

“I’m not having the greatest of days.” Learning a new job was always a challenge, but Jordan would rather deal with that headache than all the other ones in her life. Receiving the flowers from Brittany had put a smile on her face, but it had also reminded her how much disarray her life was in at the moment. She longed for the days when the hardest decisions she had to make were what outfits to wear to school and which parties she should hit on the weekend. She looked at the selection of sandwiches on one of the menus, then she slowly slid the menus across the counter. “I’m not very hungry tonight. A salad will be fine.”

“Two dressings on the side?”

“How did you know?”

“I’ve dated women like you before.”

Jordan plucked at the collar of her French blue Oxford shirt, which she had combined with a pair of crisp khaki pants to comply with the business casual dress code. “If I’d known this was a date, I would have worn something more revealing.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant,” Jordan said with a smile, “but you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“Then I must be fucking gorgeous right now.”

As a matter of fact, she was. The more time Jordan spent with Tatum at work, the more she wondered what it would be like to spend time with her after hours. Would Tatum be sweet and charming like she was now or defensive and angry like she’d been when they ran into each other in the parking lot of her apartment complex?

After she decided what she wanted to eat, Tatum phoned a nearby sandwich shop. The employee who took the order said the food would arrive in thirty minutes, but Jordan didn’t expect to see the delivery van pull up for at least an hour. She and Tatum settled in to watch the Milwaukee Brewers play the Atlanta Braves at Turner Field. To Jordan’s pleasant surprise, the food showed up during the bottom of the second inning.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were a baseball fan,” Tatum said after they cleared some space on the counter, unpacked the oversized bag, and opened the containers.

Jordan opened one of the two bottled waters she had grabbed from the break room. “Some of the best conversations my father and I have ever had occurred in the stands while we were watching Brewers games. He probably feels more comfortable talking to me in a crowd because he doubts I’ll say or do anything too outrageous in front of so many people. Then I came out to him during a playoff game and shot his theory all to hell.” Jordan grinned. “Perhaps that’s why he hasn’t taken me to a game since.”

“What about your mom?”

“You couldn’t pay her to go to a game. She’s the only member of the family who doesn’t like sports. If she didn’t look so much like Grandma Meredith, I’d swear she was adopted.”

“I take it you aren’t close?”

“No.” Jordan faltered. “In fact, I feel like I’m a disappointment to her.”

“Why do you say that?”

“We’re like oil and water. We just don’t mix. It must be a mother-daughter thing because her relationship with Grandma Meredith is just like the one she has with me. They love each other, but they don’t know how to show it.”

Jordan didn’t want to be rude and ask Tatum to change the subject. Thankfully, Tatum did it on her own.

“You’re getting really brown. Have you been spending a lot of time at the beach?”

Jordan looked at her hands. The tawny skin she had inherited from her father’s side of the family was several shades darker than it had been when she had first arrived on the island.

“Grandma Meredith gets up at the crack of dawn each morning to do an hour of yoga. While she’s doing that, I ride my bike to the beach, take a long walk, and get in a chill mood for the rest of the day. I could probably get into the same mindset if I did the yoga, but I’m not that flexible.”

“Neither am I.”

Tatum was obviously trying to make a joke, but Jordan didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended on her behalf.

“What do you do for fun?” Jordan asked after she regained her equilibrium. “Do you like the beach?”

“I love it, but I haven’t been able to go for a while.”

“Why? Too busy with work?”

“I have a hard time maneuvering my chair through the soft sand. It’s okay once I get to the hard-packed as long as I swap out my regular wheels for my wider ones.”

“Sort of like switching from a road bike to a mountain bike. From Lance Armstrong to Missy Giove, to be exact.”

“I never thought about it that way, but, yeah. It’s funny you used that analogy because I used to be a bike racer.”

“Do you miss it?”

“More than you know. I miss being in the saddle, feeling my lungs, calves, thighs, and glutes burn while I chase other riders or break away from the pack. During some of my physical therapy sessions, I ride a recumbent bike with my feet strapped to the pedals, but the sense of accomplishment I feel at the end of a run isn’t the same. I feel some of the same pain, but none of the same high.”

Jordan couldn’t imagine no longer being able to do something that had once meant so much to her. Judging by the wounded expression on Tatum’s face, Tatum could imagine it only too well.

“I bet Lincoln loves the water.”

Lincoln’s ears perked up at the mention of his name.

“Actually, he’s never been,” Tatum said with what sounded like genuine regret. “I do what I can to make sure he stays active and gets plenty of exercise. We take road trips to Savannah so he can roll in the grass in Forsyth Park, play fetch, or watch the college kids play Frisbee football, but we haven’t been to the beach.”

“But dogs are allowed, right?”

“Yes, on a leash or off-leash as long as they’re well-trained and in the owner’s control at all times.” Tatum reached down and gave Lincoln a scratch. “I’d love to watch him play in the water and feel beach sand between his toes for the first time.”

“Why do you drive all the way to Savannah when there’s so much for you to do right here? I’ve been reading the brochures. There are handicapped accessible ramps to the beach near the St. Andrews picnic area and the Convention Center. If you need some extra muscle to get through the soft sand, I’m sure someone would be willing to help you.”

“That’s why I prefer to hang out in Savannah in my spare time. If I need help, I’d rather ask someone who doesn’t know me rather than someone who does. I can handle pity from strangers, but not from family or friends.”

Jordan remembered Tatum’s initial unwillingness to accept her help on the day they had met. For someone as independent as Tatum seemed to be, it couldn’t be easy for her to accept being dependent on other people.

“How was your first week?” Tatum asked, changing the subject yet again.

“It’s a lot to learn, but I think I’m doing pretty well so far, if I say so myself.”

“You don’t have to. Larry sang your praises loud and clear.”

“Tell him the check’s in the mail.”

Tatum wolfed down the first half of her sub, but made sure to toss Lincoln a bite or two of steak from time to time. Jordan, in contrast, barely picked at her food.

“How’s your salad?”

“It’s good.” Jordan brought a forkful to her mouth and chewed without much pleasure, then went right back to pushing lettuce around her Styrofoam plate. “Like I said, I’m not very hungry tonight.”

Tatum wiped mustard off her mouth with her napkin. Lincoln greedily eyed the other half of her sandwich. She made sure it was safely out of his reach. “Is there something on your mind?”

“Besides the whole apologetic ex-girlfriend, unfortunate new hookup drama, you mean?”

“There are worse problems to have.”

Jordan speared some of her salad with her fork but didn’t eat it. “Is it true Lt. Col. Daniels is dying?”

“Billie, you mean? She’s a general now, but, yeah, I’m afraid so.”

Jordan rested her fork on the side of the container and propped her chin on the heel of her upraised hand. “Grandma Meredith wants me to meet her, but I’m not sure I’m ready to.”

“Why wouldn’t you be? Billie’s a wonderful person, even though she has no idea who she is most days.”

“My point exactly. Papa George was out of his mind on morphine by the time he reached the end. I hated seeing him that way. I wish I could have known Billie as she was in Grandma Meredith’s stories, not how she is now.”

“So do I.”

Jordan’s hand crept to the dog tags around her neck. She absently fingered the upraised letters.

“As close as you and your grandfather seem to have been, losing him must have been hard for you.”

Jordan nodded mutely and let her hand drop. “It was the toughest thing I’ve ever experienced. It sucks watching someone you love die.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Jordan watched Tatum flash back to Afghanistan, where she’d undoubtedly seen too much blood, brains, and gore spilled on the sand. Tatum wrapped up the rest of her sandwich as if her appetite had abandoned her.

“Did I remind you of the war? I didn’t mean to bring back unpleasant memories.”

“It’s okay.”

“What was it like for you over there?”

“It wasn’t a walk in the park, that’s for sure. I think Charles Dickens said it best. It was the best of times and it was the worst of times. I made memories that will last a lifetime, not all of them pleasant. I made friends that were as close as family, but not all of them made it home.”

“But I bet you’d do it all again if you could.”

“I’d do it without thinking twice.”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Jordan’s knitted her eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Even though losing your grandfather was painful, wouldn’t you go back and relive the good times if you could?”

“In an instant,” Jordan said as tears clouded her vision.

“See?” Tatum said gently. “We have something in common.”

“More than one thing, I hope.” Jordan felt her interest in Tatum begin to grow. “Do you know how to shag?”