“Hey,” he murmured, sitting down on the lower bunk when Eli answered.
“Morning.” The wariness in his voice didn’t reject him, but he understood the guarded reaction.
“I wanted to see how you were feeling today.”
Long silence met his statement, but Rick waited.
“Tired. Flight caught up with me.” Emotional jetlag killed.
“Look, I have a hell of a schedule today, and I’m staring at a twelve-hour surgery just to get it started. But are you free tonight?”
“I promised Christina I’d come for dinner. Mom’s in town and the whole family is coming over. I probably won’t get back until late.”
Well, it isn’t a no
. “But I have three days left—think you can swing some down time?”
Hope pumped through his blood. “How much do I need?”
“I made reservations at our cabin.”
His chest tightened.
Our cabin
. Where their last visit ended so poorly. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You wanted to finish a conversation. I think I owe it to you—to us—to give that conversation a fair shake.”
Rick didn’t mistake the concession for anything other than it was—a minor miracle. “Pick me up at eight. I’ll be ready.”
“You got it. Take it easy, okay?”
“You, too.”
Staring at his cell phone, Rick concentrated on a regular four-count breath. He needed to pack up his worries and concern about Eli until the surgery was over, but he couldn’t quite bottle the thrill that Eli had asked him to the cabin. They had a hell of a lot of talking to do, and it would be a mistake to think they’d made it past the worst.
But he’s talking to me
….
Small victories. Rick would take them every single time.
“Okay.” Gripping the phone, he turned it off and rose. “Time to save lives.” And find a surgeon to cover his shifts. He’d have to take leave, but he hadn’t for most of the year. He’d stop by his CO’s office on the way to surgery.
Talking about Mitch had proved as hard as he expected, but Rick’s reaction—Rick’s acceptance without censure or criticism surprised him.
It shouldn’t have
. To be fair, his lover was far kinder and more compassionate than Eli. It made him a good doctor—he got people. He treated his patients like people, he operated on them like they were people, and when he lost patients, he mourned them.
In all their years together, Rick never described just his surgeries. He described his patients. When he’d mentioned losing one during dinner, he didn’t bring up any details and Eli hadn’t been sure if he had the right to press for them. Realistically, if they kept protecting each other from themselves, they would rapidly run out of topics of conversation.
So he booked the cabin. Fortunately, their status as regulars saved him a deposit or argument with the owners about double-booking. The owner offered to let them have their regular cabin and moved a reservation to another. It worked out beautifully.
“Hey.” Christina kicked him under the table, and he lifted his brows. “Stop staring off into space. I slaved over the stove for hours to make you this fine dinner.”
He eyed the take-out pasta and bread sticks. “It took hours to unpack Styrofoam containers?”
Her girls burst out laughing and Phil hid his own humor with a quick drink. Christina stuck her tongue at him. “What would you know about take-out? I even sent Phil to the grocery store.”
“For diapers and wine—two things you should never force a man to shop for.”
Her outraged huff amused him.
“Mom!” she complained.
“Be nice to your sister, Elijah,” their mother said without looking up from her meal.
“She kicked me. Maybe she should be nicer to me.”
“Don’t kick your brother, Christina.”
The corner of Eli’s mouth twitched as the nieces dissolved into another fit of the giggles, chorusing. “Eli’s picking on Mommy!”
“Hmm.” He eyed them. “Mommy’s picking on Uncle Eli.”
Christina flung a breadstick at him and he dodged.
That time, Mom looked up. “Christina.”
“What?” His sister glanced at her and Eli launched one of the cubed zucchini at her with a flick of his finger. It pinged perfectly off her cheek.
“Elijah!”
Too late—the food fight escalated and even Eli had to enjoy the relief of laughter.
A couple of hours later, he escaped out onto the porch. He’d cleaned up his share of the mess and helped Phil put up the food while Christina corralled the girls toward their bath.
“Hey, baby.” His mother closed the door quietly as she stepped out onto the shadowy porch.
“Wow, you tore yourself away from the baby without losing a limb.” He held out an arm and she sidled up to him, accepting the hug. He adored the diminutive woman who’d given him life. She was a personal rock in all their lives, holding their family together when a construction accident claimed their father, and again when Mitchell chose to shoot himself.
“I like babies, I will not apologize for that.” She leaned into him. “But I am glad to have my baby home, too.”
“It’s good to be home.”
“You’re sadder this time, though. Did something bad happen while you were overseas?” Mom rarely asked questions. Theresa Masters prayed for him everyday, he knew that. But she didn’t always ask, partially because she worried about him so much.
“Tired mostly.” He wouldn’t add to her worries. “Long days, longer nights. Lots to do and a short time to get it done.”
“Hmm.” The dangerously soft sound said his mother didn’t buy it. “You know I don’t like to pry….”
Since when
? He bit back the retort. She didn’t deserve it. “Yes?”
“Christina told me she tried to fix you up with one of her girlfriends. Maybe if you had someone to come home to….”
“I have lots of someones to come home to, Mom.” The familiar conversation fit as well as his combat boots.
“Uh huh.” She pinched his arm. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Mom….”
“Or you could just come out and bring home a boyfriend to introduce to us, and we would stop feeling the urge to fix you up.” He went completely still. Swallowing, he glanced down at her. She met his gaze with absolute seriousness. “You want to go for a walk and talk to me?”
Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded slowly.
“Good. Go get my jacket for me and we can take a drive down to Old Towne. It’s really lovely this time of year. I’ll buy you some coffee and we can walk by the river.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He did as she asked, letting Phil know they were heading out before returning to his truck and helping his mother inside. Eli wrestled with his internal questions all the way. He could have laughed it off or denied it, but he’d frozen. Deliberately locked up and waited to see what she would do if her suspicions were confirmed.
Maybe I’m ready to go public after all
.
Thirty minutes later, they strolled down the river walk, the gentrified area barely recognizable from his last visit about four years before. Long, shaded paths would provide a great respite from the summer sun, and the rich scents of magnolia and honeysuckle perfumed the warm evening.
“How long have you known?” he asked, unable to restrain the questions any longer.
“Probably before you did. You were never much of a player, darling. Name me one girl you dated in high school.”
He couldn’t. In fact, he’d made a point of only going out in a crowd where there were unattached females so it looked like dating rather than actually dating. His two years at community college included a lot of hours working before and after classes. Boot camp came next and he skipped worrying about appearances altogether after that.
“See, you can’t. I thought you just liked to keep your life private and I respected that. Your sister indulged my need for grandchildren, and I thought—I thought maybe you had someone, too. But you’re sad, baby….”
Drawing her off the path, he gestured to a bench. They sat together and he leaned his elbows on his thighs and turned his head to look at her. “You’re not mad?”
“Of course not. Why would you think I would be mad?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “You thought I would be mad because of Mitch.”
Pain spasmed in his chest. Pain steeped in guilt and regret. “You would have every right to be angry. If I’d told him….”
“You can’t think that way. I don’t. It took me a long time to forgive him and myself for what happened, for the choices he made. But, sweetheart, they were Mitch’s choices. Not yours. Not mine. We loved him. He knew that. But he hated himself, he struggled with his own identity and maybe we’ll never understand it, but we can what-if ourselves to death, or we can forgive him.” She was so calm, so matter-of-fact.
“How…?” Yes, she might be his rock, but he tended to think of her as far more fragile. Losing Mitch shattered her. It was the only time Eli had given his commitment to the Marines serious pause. But Christina moved back home and insisted that he stay in. When she married Phil, he took their mother under his wing as well, and bit-by-bit, she improved. Her pride during his graduation exercises from boot, and later from OCS, buoyed him. She had a collection of souvenirs from every deployment and a copy of his dog tags that he’d had made especially for her that said “Proud Marine Mama” on one side and his information on the other.
“How what?”
“How did you get so Zen about this?” He grimaced at the bite in his words. “I’m sorry, I meant—I guess I meant how did you get to this place? I remember you couldn’t talk about him.”
“No. I couldn’t. Not for a very long time, but they have this thing called therapy. I belong to several groups for the families of the armed forces, and one of the women I met there also mediated a support group for grieving mothers. She invited me and…well, let’s just say I have a lot more friends now. I worked through my grief.”
How did I not know this
?
She chuckled and patted his cheek. “Your mother does have a life, darling. Now, let’s talk about you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you have someone?”
He glanced down at the white coffee cup in his hands. “I did.”
“What happened?”
“I screwed up.”
She sighed, the gentle sound filled with motherly patience. “Can you fix it?”
“No idea.” Rick was a better man than he, so maybe they could. “But I plan to try.”
“Excellent.” She beamed. “Now tell me all about him.”
Uncertain, he eyed her again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Speak.”
“Well…he’s a doctor….”
She clapped her hands, absolute delight filling her expression. “Tell me more.”
Shaking his head a little, he did.
Chapter Five
Rick tossed his bag into the back of the truck. “I’m sorry I’m late.” He slid into the passenger seat. “Was in surgery most of the night, we had new patients airlifted in and—”
“It’s okay.” Eli stopped him with a hand on his leg. “Ease up. You had to work, you couldn’t get leave first thing this morning. We’re good.”
Of course Eli understood. Their time wasn’t always their own. They had to file requests, get approval, and if they heard the word no, they had to accept it. The chief approved his leave for Saturday and Sunday, but he had to report for duty by ten in the morning on Monday.
“I know you wanted to leave earlier.” The fact that he hadn’t been able to get out of the hospital frustrated him, but his patient lived. Exhaustion nibbled at him. He’d managed a two-hour nap before rounds. Thankfully, his three surgeries went like clockwork and right on schedule.
“It happens. Not like we haven’t had delays before.” Eli turned out of the hospital parking lot and they were on their way to the turnpike. “You can sleep if you’re tired.”
“I’m exhausted.” But he didn’t want to sleep. They were together. He wanted to spend time with Eli. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he said, “Find a Starbucks and I can load up on the caffeine.”
“Caffeine is like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet hole if you’re wiped out. We have a drive in front of us. Sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” Something seemed different about Eli, something Rick couldn’t put his finger on.
“You’re….” He studied the man’s profile. He wore a button-down shirt in a dark navy. The rolled up sleeves showed off tan, muscular forearms. He’d shaved, his chiseled jaw relaxed and his mouth curved into an easy smile. “You’re feeling good about something.”
“Maybe.” Eli glanced sideways at him and laughed “You don’t have to look so worried, Rick.”
“Yeah, you’re a master at distancing yourself and you never relax this close to a city. So what gives?” He’d had a lot of time to consider Eli’s confession about his brother. It broke his heart to know he carried that pain deep inside, never letting it out. He resented the fact that Eli had kept it from him for all of five minutes. It didn’t matter that he kept it private because that was who he was. Sharing it mattered. Sharing it with Rick really mattered.
“I talked to my mother last night.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“Yeah?”
Good news or bad? Could go either way
.
“Yep. Craziest thing.” Eli leaned his head back, gaze fixed on the road in front of him. “She knew.”
Knew what?
It felt like he juggled two different conversations, the one he wanted to have and the one they were having. “Okay, caffeine deprivation must be affecting my brain. She knew what?”
“About me.” Eli glanced at him again, a thoughtful smile on his face. He must have decided to take pity, because he continued without having to be pressed. “She knows I’m gay.”
“Okay.” A thread of excitement wound through his exhaustion.
“That’s it? Just ‘okay’?” He teased.
“Well, I’m going to assume it went well because you’re in a good mood and it might be a little inappropriate to yell ‘woo hoo.’”
“I told her about you.”
Rick’s heart seized up and his chest grew uncomfortably tight. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. Told her you were a doctor. She wants to meet you.”
Panic blew through him, and he clenched his fist. “Why does she want to meet me?”
The hard bark of Eli’s laughter elated him. “Because she asked me if I had someone—and I told her about you.”