Titanium (10 page)

"He says he's changed."

"Yeah, but people never really do."

"They do if they have to. Um, Riley?"

"Yeah?"

I glanced pointedly at her hand, still stroking my thigh.

With a gasp, she jerked it back, her eyes wide. "Sorry. Was
that a turn on? I'm not that experienced with guys."

She
would
tell me that. I grabbed the spare pillow
and plopped it in my lap to keep from embarrassing myself.
"Could've fooled me. So my leg really doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not, and I'm pissed you thought it would. There's
more to this girl than meets the eye, Zander."

"And less of this boy." At least before she touched me. "So
are you going to finish what you started?" My hopeful gaze dropped
to the pillow hiding my hot-blooded reaction to her caress.

"I might. But not tonight." With a laugh, she ruthlessly stole
the pillow, trounced me over the head with it, and crawled under the
sheets nearby, close enough to radiate warmth, but without actually
touching me...damn it.

In seconds I heard the even breaths of a sleeping
beauty.

But I didn't fall asleep for a long time. All I could think about
was my life--what it was now and what it might've been if I'd met
Riley before I enlisted. I had no doubt that I'd have seen her sweet
smile, asked her out, and promptly fallen in love. There'd have been
no secret enlistment, no basic training, no guns, no war.

I couldn't have left her.

Now I had nothing to offer but half the rent and my body,
which she used not for sex, but to keep the bad guys away. Well, that
was more than a lot of soldiers got, specifically the ones who came
home in a box.

I had no right to feel sorry for myself.

Not while
I
lived and breathed.

Zander's cell phone blasting "Titanium" woke me on
Wednesday. Smiling at the irony, I reached over him to check his
watch--zero-seven-hundred. Yeah, he had it set in twenty-four hour
mode. With a yelp I leapt off the bed. I could hear him answering the
call as I darted into the bathroom, and was brushing my teeth when
he knocked on the door. I opened it and saw he was on
crutches.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" he asked
rubbing one of his eyes. He looked so tired.

"Bad first." I spit toothpaste into the sink and washed it
away.

"My parents are driving down today."

"And the good news?"

"They're just passing through on their way to Angela's."

I laughed. "I'd love to meet them. I'll even cook, and I don't
mean pop something frozen into the oven."

"Thanks. I should warn you that Mom is all about
appearances and Dad wants to micromanage my life. Plus, they're
trying to make up for their initial negative reactions to the leg injury,
which means they tend to overdo. But I know what they really think
and always will."

I didn't know how to answer that.

Once I was dressed and ready to go, I dug the newspaper out
from under the bushes and handed it to him. I left with high hopes
my Wednesday would go better than Tuesday.

But it didn't. I was just as paranoid at school if not more. At
one point, I even got prickles on the back of my neck, the being-
watched kind. I looked all around and made eye contact with a guy
sitting by the fountain. Tall with dirty blond hair worn in a ponytail,
he steadily stared at me. Could that be Jason? My heart began to
pound in my chest. I quickly moved on, impulsively changing
direction before I got to my class and high tailing it to the parking lot.
Sergeant Brian had suggested that I change my routine. Today I was
going to do it by skipping class.

When I got home, I saw that Zander's truck wasn't in the
driveway. Instead of pulling in, I drove to Brook and scoped out the
parking lots, looking for it. Sure enough, I found his vehicle parked
outside a brick building on the east end of the property. I pulled in
beside it and walked to the nearest glass door.

Once inside, I headed toward the sound of voices and cheers.
I found myself in the doorway of a gym in which a men's wheelchair
basketball game was in progress. On spotting Zander, I climbed the
bleachers and sat to watch. He wasn't wearing his prosthesis, so his
injured leg was in full view.

I struggled to come to terms with what I saw. How could
something so tragic happen to someone so good? Where was the
justice? And with the reality of war staring me in the face, could I still
support the logic and strategies of our country's military leaders?
Well, how could I not, when disrespecting the goals of our military
trivialized their sacrifices?

A young red-haired woman sitting a few feet away glanced
over and smiled. "Hi. Which one of them belongs to you?"

"Zander."

Her face lit up. "Xman? My husband Tim adores that guy.
They were stationed together in Kandahar."

All I could do was nod and smile. I still knew so little about
Zander.

He didn't see me until the game ended and I began climbing
down the bleachers. A big grin told me it was okay to be there.
Feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders,
I acknowledged that I was relying too heavily on his presence to
make me feel safe.

I walked over to him.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"That's a lie."

I groaned. "Tell you later."

Zander nodded. "I've got to shower and get my gear." He
pointed to the dressing room.

"May I hitchhike to the door?"

His eyebrows shot up but he seemed pleased. "Sure."

Without a second thought, I hopped on his lap and put my
arms around his neck. He rolled us to the door, a short ride, but one I
wasn't sorry to make. I hopped off. He went into the dressing room,
as did many of the others. I noticed several guys getting out of their
wheelchairs and walking normally, which was baffling until one of
them caught my questioning expression. "Evens up the odds." He
winked.

That brought tears to my eyes.

A man with a prosthetic arm walked up. "Are you Xman's
girl?"

"Not yet, though I haven't given up on him."

"Good luck with that." He laughed heartily and offered me
his good hand. "Marty Wallace."

I told him my name.

"Zander and I were in Kabul together. He's my hero. I owe
him big time."

"Were you caught in the same landmine explosion that took
his leg?"

Marty didn't answer right away. I got the distinct impression
I'd surprised him.

"It
was
a landmine, right?"

"Uh..."

"Never mind. I'm sure it wasn't."

He winced. "Don't tell Zander I spilled the beans,
okay?"

"I won't. What really happened to you guys?"

He shook his head. "Better ask him."

What could I do but admire his loyalty?

* * * *

On the way to the parking lot with Zander on crutches for a
change, I told him about the guy I'd caught staring and described the
way the hairs on the back of my neck had stood up.

"I know that feeling well. Do you park in the same lot every
day?"

"Yes."

"Sergeant Brian said to vary your routine."

"Which is why I skipped class." I changed the subject since
we'd reached our vehicles. "Want to grill tonight? The last renter left
a rig. Well, that's what I've always assumed. Something tells me
Cheap Charlie didn't buy it."

He grinned. "Sure."

"Then we need to go to the grocery store. Let's get rid of my
car first, though."

That's what we did, leaving my car at the duplex and taking
Zander's truck to the market. I made him drive through the bank,
where I did a balance check. One-thousand two-hundred dollars. I'd
never felt so rich.

At the grocery store, we bought stuff for hamburgers and
split the cost even though he argued that the extra mouths belonged
to him. Once we got home, I mixed up a Bundt cake and some baked
beans. Around six, Zander went out to fire up the barbecue rig.

He was outside when the doorbell rang, which meant I had
to answer it. After smoothing my sparkly red shirt and tugging up my
low-rise jeans, I opened the door, all smiles, and found myself facing
a pretty woman with a short perky hairdo and a man with a shaved
head. Both were clearly startled to see me. So startled that the man
stepped back and checked the house number.

I bit back a laugh. "Hi. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Bennett. I'm
Riley McConnell, Zander's housemate. Please come in."

"You're a girl," said Zander's dad.

His wife, who wore black pants and a slinky sweater,
elbowed him. "Clearly. And a beautiful girl, at that." She shot her
husband a look I couldn't decipher. "Denise Bennett. This is my
husband Kevin. It's so nice to meet you." She swept past me and into
the living room. Kevin in his khakis and a brown polo shirt followed.
When I'd shut the door, I turned and found her giving the place a
once over that made me wish I'd dusted. "Very...homey. Much better
than that depressing trailer with all those unfortunate men for
neighbors. I didn't know how he was ever going to move forward
surrounded by all that."

For some reason, I had to defend Zander's choices.
"Sometimes being among friends who understand what you're going
through is really good medicine."

"There he is!" Denise rushed into the kitchen to hug Zander,
who'd just come in. She gushed over him like he was six or
something, smoothing his hair and his shirt, wincing at the sight of
his worn jeans with their strategic tears and shredded hems. Kevin
joined them, awkwardly patting Zander on the back. I noticed they
both called him Alex.

The whole thing felt like a performance. Their smiles
definitely didn't reach their eyes. My heart ached at the sight. Zander
held up well, enduring his parents' comments about his appearance
and their carefully worded questions about his leg or lack thereof. I
noticed that neither parent ever really looked at it.

We sat down to dinner almost immediately and soon had
our plates filled with the food we'd prepared. Zander's chair faced
mine at my table for four.

"Daddy, tell Alex about the job you've lined up for him."

Zander tensed.

Oblivious, Kevin beamed. "Talked to Ralph Worth, Lloyd's
brother. He says there'll be a loan officer position opening up soon.
He'll have to pull some strings, but he owes me."

Shocked, I shifted my gaze from him to his wife. They both
seemed so proud of themselves.

"For God's sake, Dad. Do I look like a banker?"

"But it's the perfect situation and a very generous offer,
considering you don't have your degree," said Denise. "We were sure
you'd be more comfortable sitting at a desk."

"You mean hiding behind one?" Zander had never looked
more disgusted. "I'm okay with how I look."

"So are we. This isn't about that."

Zander flicked me a telling glance. Was that lie number
one?

"I hate that you're living so far away from your family and
friends. Why just yesterday, Gemma Pate asked about you. I told her
about your injury. She asked for your number. I'm sure she'll
call..."

Another flicked glance. Lie number two?

Kevin spoke up. "We want you to come home, son. We miss
you terribly and really wish you'd stay with us while you convalesce.
You can finish college in Amarillo."

Zander caught my eye. Lie number three.

I wanted to throw something. How could these people ever
be less than honest with a son who could spot a lie a mile away? Did
they doubt his ability? And why weren't they proud of what he'd
sacrificed using it to help his country?

"May we talk to you alone when we're finished here?" asked
Denise, shooting me a sideways glance.

"No." Just that. No.

Kevin sighed. "I know we said some harsh things when you
got home. In retrospect, I regret them. But you shouldn't have
enlisted without telling us. And now this injury has destroyed the
future you had planned, not to mention that you've missed out on
two years of college sports."

"I'll get a degree, okay? A degree the Army will pay for. And
those plans? Yours. Not mine."

"Fine." Kevin shoveled food into his mouth in moody
silence.

Denise tried again. "We heard from Sonny Crane last week.
Tell him about it, honey." She gave her husband the evil eye before
addressing me. "He and Alex's dad were roommates in college. Sonny
played basketball for the Denver Nuggets."

"His boy just signed with the Lakers." Kevin sighed again.
"He's going to send us tickets. Maybe we can go once you've finished
all your rehab." He, too, turned to me. "Alex had real talent. Several
national teams sent scouts. We expected such good things..." His
voice trailed into disappointed silence.

"No wonder he killed the competition today." My attempt to
break an awkward pause in the conversation. "Maybe you should go
with the NWBA, Zander."

"What's that?" asked Denise.

"National Wheelchair Basketball Association." Zander's tone
was dry.

"But you're walking so well. Why would you need a
wheelchair? They're so--" She hesitated, but I mentally supplied a
couple of choices.

Eye catching? Embarrassing?

"--much trouble. But if that's what you want to do, you
should definitely look into it."

A fourth flicked glance from Zander. The lies were surely
stacking up. While his parents knew what they should say, they
seldom managed it. And when they did, it was a lie. Poor
Zander.

Denise abruptly zoned in on me. "Have you lived in San
Antonio long?"

"Moved here in August."

"And where are you from?"

"Rocky Falls."

"What do your parents do?" Kevin asked.

Zander was squirming in his seat by then. I flashed a smile
to let him know I didn't mind the questions before answering.
"Actually, I was raised by an aunt and uncle after my mom died since
my dad had other places to be. He recently contacted me though,
wanting to meet. So maybe that has changed." I shared Leslie's and
Clint's professions and talked about my planned degree.