The War Within (8 page)

“Going somewhere?” George asked. He spun her in a circle as a sudden blast of doo-wop erupted from the jukebox. His Hawaiian print shirt was even more colorful than U’ilani’s dress. Blue, yellow, and red birds of paradise flocked over a black background. His tan chinos and brown loafers looked tame in comparison.

Meredith held up her nearly empty mug. “I was getting a refill.”

“Here. Let me.” As he took the mug out of her hands, she smelled the competing aromas of cologne, aftershave, and hair pomade. “Same again, Charlie. Times two this time.”

“You got it.” Charlie poured two drafts and set the frosted mugs on the counter. “Here you go, big spender.”

George took a seat next to Robinson. “You want one, Nat?” he asked, indicating the beer.

“No thanks, George. I was just about to head out.”

Meredith had never heard anyone call Robinson “Nat” before. She tried to imagine herself saying it but couldn’t manage the feat. There was still too much distance between them for her to utilize a name that felt so familiar.

George spun around on his bar stool. “You’re not coming with us?”

“Not tonight.”

“Maybe next time, huh?”

“Maybe.” Robinson drained the rest of her beer.

“Have one on me before you hit the road,” Meredith said, trying to prolong their encounter.

“Thanks, but I don’t have the time.” Robinson left a bill on the bar for a tip. “Have fun this weekend. I’ll see you later.”

Meredith watched her leave, wishing she knew where she was going and wishing even harder that she could go with her. What did Robinson do when she didn’t have to worry about who might be watching? Meredith longed to find out but doubted she’d ever get the chance.

“Nat’s a tough nut to crack, but you couldn’t ask for a more loyal friend,” George said.

Meredith drew herself out of her reverie. “How long have you known each other?”

“I met her during my first tour. That was—gosh—three years ago.”

“So you know each other well?”

“I’m tempted to say yes, but how well do you really get to know someone over here?” George rested his elbows on the bar and gave her the once-over. “You look beautiful, by the way, though I probably should have said so much earlier in the conversation.”

“Probably.” Meredith felt herself start to relax. She didn’t know what George’s expectations were for the evening, but at least he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get to the point where she had to decide whether the night would end in ignominy or a blaze of glory. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Me?” He took a sip of his beer and wiped foam off his upper lip with the back of his hand. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m from Wisconsin. Racine, to be exact. I’m the oldest of three kids. My brother’s a sophomore in high school and my sister is beginning her freshman year at the university in Madison. I joined the Army right out of high school because I thought it was my chance to see the world. I never thought I’d get stuck in the same part of it for the foreseeable future.”

“Have you seen any action?”

He was quiet for so long Meredith regretted asking the question.

“Yeah, I’ve spent some time in the bush,” he said at last. “The way things are going, I’m sure I’ll be back there before too long. A buddy of mine said the Vietcong have two hundred miles of tunnels underground. They’re so well-stocked the VC could live in them for months without poking their heads up for air. Someone’s got to roust them out or else we might look up one day and find ourselves surrounded. If we aren’t already.” He took a long drink out of his rapidly emptying mug. “Given a choice, I’d rather stay here and work on cars. It reminds me of being back home, tinkering on my jalopy in my parents’ garage.”

Meredith remembered how happy he had looked the first time she had seen him, covered in grease and surrounded by spare parts.

“What kind of car do you have?”

He smiled at the change in subject. “A 1957 Cadillac Eldorado. I named her Caroline after a girl I used to be sweet on once. The Cadillac company makes the best cars on the road. They look good, they’re dependable, and they never let you down. Caroline’s temperamental because she’s getting on in years, but she’s my baby. Someday, I’m going to have six more just like her. One for each day of the week.”

“Won’t that make Caroline jealous?”

“No, because she’s my first. She’s always going to be special.”

“I assume we’re still talking about the car.”

George rubbed the back of his neck, which had turned the same shade of red as his cheeks. Meredith found his boyish enthusiasm and gentle ways hopelessly endearing. The night had just begun, but he was already a refreshing change from the grabby guys who asked a few questions to be polite then spent the rest of the night trying to get from first base to home plate as quickly as possible.

“Enough about me,” he said. “Tell me about you.”

“What is there to know that I haven’t told you already?”

Whenever they shared a table for meals—which they’d done a handful of times in the mess hall and two or three times at Charlie’s—he asked her so many questions she felt like she was a defendant on the witness stand and he was the prosecutor trying to prove her guilt.

“You’ve told me about your parents, your sisters, and practically every person you’ve met in your life, but you haven’t told me anything about the person I want to know about the most: you. Tell me about you, Meredith. Who are you, and how did you trade a spot in the church choir in Omaha, Nebraska, for a bar stool in Vietnam?”

His question should have been easy, but for some reason, Meredith found it difficult.

“I could try to paint myself in the best possible light, but that wouldn’t be honest, and I don’t want to lie to you, George.”

“Uh oh,” he said with what she hoped was mock horror. “Here comes the old brush-off. Should I order something stronger than beer?” He raised his hand as if to beckon U’ilani.

“Only if you want to.”

His smile faded and he dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was only making fun.” He looked genuinely contrite. Genuine. The word suited him much more than the garish shirt he must have borrowed from a hoochmate. “Tell me. What were you going to say?”

“The truth is, I don’t know who I am. I guess I’m what you call a work in progress. I know what I want to be, but I don’t want to be defined solely by a title. Nurse. Wife. Mother. I want to be all those things, but I don’t want any of them to make me stop being Meredith.”

She felt like she was babbling so she forced herself to stop. Otherwise, her insecurities might send him running for the hills before they made it through their first date.

“Does that make sense?” she asked, hoping he could tie her jumbled thoughts together without having to exert too much mental effort.

“It makes perfect sense. You want to be happy.”

In one short sentence, he had perfectly summed up what she had been struggling to explain for years.

“How can something that sounds so simple be so hard to achieve?”

“Because sometimes other people’s versions of happiness and ours are two very different things. That’s when you have to say, ‘Screw them,’ and live for yourself, not someone else.” She was about to compliment him on his insight when he said, “Nat taught me that.”

He placed a hand in the small of her back. She didn’t shy away from his touch the way she usually did when someone tried to get close. She felt more comfortable in his company than in any other man’s, but did comfort equate to attraction? Could it lead to love? When she looked at him, she didn’t feel the tingling hands or butterflies in her stomach other women described when they talked about the men they were dating. She wanted to feel the spark of mutual attraction. She wanted to know what it was like to fall in love. Could George Moser show her?

“Here come the others,” he said with a nod toward the door. “Are you ready?”

She felt a heavy weight settle on her shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

She looked behind her and saw the rest of the group approaching them. Lois and a burly MP named Steve Johansson led the way. Steve’s neck was wider than both of Meredith’s thighs put together. His biceps were the size of canned hams. Two other couples trailed in his sizeable wake.

The sense of dread Meredith had felt earlier returned in spades when Lois said chirpily, “You two look cozy. Where’s the nearest hotel room when you need one, huh?”

Steve squeezed Lois’s butt like it was a loaf of bread he was checking for freshness. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get there soon enough. Just you wait and see.” Lois squealed and slapped his hand, which only made him bolder. He pulled her body close to his and humped her like an animal in heat. “Stick with me and I’ll show you the time of your life.”

“From what I’ve heard, more like the fastest thirty seconds,” George said under his breath. Meredith covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

Hector Ortiz, a fellow MP, tried to cool Steve’s jets before they revved out of control. “Save some for later, okay, buddy?”

“What’s the matter, Ortiz? Are you afraid I’ll make you look small in front of your girl?”

Hector playfully punched Steve’s meaty shoulder. “I’ve seen what you’re working with, you dumb Swede. There’s no way in hell you could ever make me look small.”

“Take that back, Ortiz.”

Steve grabbed Hector and wrapped him in a headlock. Hector’s face quickly turned tomato red after Steve locked his hands together and tightened his hold. Hector struggled to loosen Steve’s grip. Just when Meredith thought he was close to passing out, he finally managed to slip free. He ducked under Steve’s arm and twisted it behind his back in some kind of submission hold. Steve rose up on his tiptoes like he was trying to fly away from the pain.

“Who’s the big man now, Johansson?” Hector asked, reaching around to slap Steve’s cheek.

One of the nurses sighed dramatically. “Is it just me or does anyone else find it odd that whenever soldiers get together, all they do is compare the size of their penises? They can be talking about cigars, rifles, or Louisville Sluggers, but the real subject is what’s dangling between their legs.”

“Take it from me,” another nurse said. “Neither of these guys has much to brag about.”

Lois fixed Alice Poythress, the last nurse who had spoken, with a hard look. “How would you know?”

Alice drew herself up to her full 5’2” height. “How do you think?”

While Steve and Hector threw jabs that were becoming less and less playful, Lois stared at Alice as if she wanted to pull her hair out. Meredith expected a full-blown melee to break out any second.

Stepping in to play peacemaker, George placed himself between the tiring warriors. Steve and Hector continued to jab at each other, but George easily dodged their blows with quick feints of his head and shoulders. He circled, bobbed, and weaved like a seasoned pro.

“Keep it up and you guys will have to arrest yourselves for disturbing the peace,” U’ilani said. She slapped the barrel of a baseball bat against her palm to let them know she didn’t intend to let them go on much longer.

Steve and Hector punched themselves out a few seconds later. Hector shook his arms to alleviate the pain from the buildup of lactic acid in his muscles. Steve’s broad chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. His mouth worked like a fish out of water as he tucked in his shirt, a white Oxford so tight Meredith was surprised it hadn’t burst at the seams during the scuffle.

“At least I’ll do my time with a smile on my face. Right, baby?” He goosed Lois in the ribs, which produced a squeal so loud it made Meredith’s eardrums vibrate. He chased her out the door like a Neanderthal looking for a mate to drag back to his cave.

Meredith could practically smell the testosterone in the air.

If this is what I have to look forward to, this is going to be a
long
evening.

She wasn’t wrong. The night seemed to drag on endlessly as Lois and Steve necked their way through one bar after another. Lois was apparently more impressed by Steve’s pugilistic display than Meredith had been. Meredith wanted to spend hours walking the crowded streets taking in all Saigon had to offer—the flashing neon signs, the colorful vendors, the heavily made-up women on nearly every corner promising “good boom-boom for good price”—but the rest of the group seemed more interested in getting drunk. George was the only exception. He seemed as excited about exploring the city as she did.

“Next time,” she whispered in his ear as they trailed behind the others to yet another bar, “let’s make it just the two of us, okay?”

“You’d like to go out again?”

“You don’t?”

“Of course I do,” he said eagerly, “but with Steve and Hector going toe-to-toe in Charlie’s, and Steve being Steve everywhere he goes, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want anything more to do with the male of the species.”

She put her hand in the crook of his elbow. “You’re different from the other members of your tribe.”

“Thanks. I think.”

He swung her overnight bag like a beat officer twirling his nightstick. Good thing she didn’t have anything fragile stashed inside.

When they arrived in town, the others had been so afraid they might miss out on something they had decided to head straight to the bars instead of finding hotel rooms. Meredith wished she had spoken out against the idea. She felt silly. They must have looked like a band of hoboes as they prowled the city with their belongings in their hands.

As they walked up the bustling main thoroughfare, she spotted a familiar figure heading toward a quiet side street. “Hey, there’s Robinson.”

As Robinson neared the corner, she took an almost furtive glance behind her. She was alone, in direct defiance of Lt. Col. Daniels’s command not to go into the city unaccompanied. Meredith lifted her arm to beckon for her to join them, but Robinson kept walking. Before Meredith could call her name, George grabbed her and spun her around in another impromptu dance move. He finished with a flourish, dipping her so low she feared he’d drop her on the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” she spluttered in shock as she dangled inches above the ground.