Broken Road (24 page)

“Renae?” It was Riley who was coming up the drive.
 
She breathed a sigh of relief.

“You scared me!” She said as he stepped onto the porch.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I kinda like to walk when that happens.”

“Does it help?”

“Not really, but it’s something I do.”

“How late is it?”
 

“Late enough for both of us to be sound asleep. I made some sandwiches but you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up.”
 

“I had no idea I was that tired.” She said and meant it.
 

“Do you mind if I sit?” He asked and she moved her plate so he could take a seat next to her on the swing. They sat in silence until slowly they began to swing back and forth, unevenly at first and then in unison.

“The nights are so beautiful here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many stars before and never this bright.”

“Not even in the Midwest, Texas or Tennessee?” He teased and she could just make out his face in the starlight enough to see that he was smiling.

“Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little but it seems especially beautiful and bright here.”

“I believe you. There were nights when I was overseas that I’d close my eyes and try to pretend I was laying on the back on my truck staring up at a night like this.”

“Weren’t there skies full of stars where you were?” She asked and he got very quiet all of a sudden.
 

“Sure. But I spent most of time at FOB in the barracks not out in the open camping out under the stars. And if I ever was out in the open I was more worried about snipers or the EIDs.”

“I imagine you were.” Brenda said and tried not to picture Shane worrying about the same things. But she was certain he
had
worried about the same things-isn’t that how he and Riley came to be on the same road that fateful night? She sighed.

“You seem upset.”

“Do I?”

“Is it because I mentioned the snipers and EIDs?”

“No, maybe, I don’t know.” She said realizing how confusing it must sound to him.

“What happened that you don’t want to talk about growing up as an Army brat?”

“It’s not that. It has more to do with something that happened recently.” Was she finally finding her courage?
 

“What was that?” He asked and she turned to look at him. His eyes were kind and trusting. They were trusting of her.

“I. . .” She began and realized she wasn’t going to be able to do it. “I have a friend. . .”
It’s me!
She wanted to scream the truth at him.

“Is it the friend who owns this house?”

“Yeah, it’s the same friend.” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. She. . .she lost her husband a few months back.”

“How?” She saw sympathy in his face and her heart began to pound in her chest.

“They said it was an IED but she really doesn’t know.” Part of the truth was better than no truth at all she decided.

“Jesus.”She heard him exclaim under his breath.

“That’s why I’m here.” That was the truth.

“You’re helping her out?”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re a good friend.” He said and she felt the tips of his finger brush against her hand.

“I don’t know about that.” She countered feeling the burden of guilt brought about by the lies she was telling him.

“I do.” He said his voice softening. “I know something about friendship these days, who is and who isn’t so to speak. You’re a good friend.”

“It’s been so hard on her even before he. . .he died. I can’t imagine what it was like for him. . .for
you
.”
Tell me what happened!
Her heart was begging. There was just silence and then she heard him speak so softly that it was almost as if he was talking to himself.

“It was hard.” He said in a voice that made Brenda think he was far away- maybe back on that road.

“What happened, Riley?” She whispered and held her breath. Would he tell her? It was probably only a moment or two but it felt like an eternity to Brenda as she waited for Riley to answer. Finally, he spoke and when he did the three words he uttered stopped her heart.
 

“I don’t remember.”

He could barely make out her face in the dark but he heard her sharp intake of breath. Riley had never said the words out loud to anyone before but she had given him something of herself by telling him about her friend and her husband. He felt he owed it to her and was glad he had done it. The only regret he had was that it was only partially true. He hated lying to her but he wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened to him yet. It was also a fact that the memory-while consistently horrifying and unpredictable-wasn’t always clear. Many times it came in bits and pieces and usually at the most inconvenient times. Riley swallowed hard as he remembered the accident that took his grandfather’s life. So maybe it was only partially a lie that he didn’t remember. He remembered, he just didn’t remember everything, every time. There were also the days he never wanted to remember. But how could he explain that to Renae? Why explain it to her when everything had been going so well? No nightmares, no memories, no real problems since he’d moved into the farmhouse since he’d been with her.

“You don’t remember?” Her voice seemed to tremble. Should he tell her? He
wanted
to tell her more now than ever. He looked at her and their eyes met. There was that sadness he had seen before magnified by a hundred filling her eyes. She looked like she wanted to cry. He opened his mouth to speak then he hesitated.

“You don’t remember
anything
?” She asked again and he begin to feel the panic. Before he could think through all the reasons why he
should
tell her, why he
wanted
to tell her-Riley had already answered her.

“No.” He said and she turned away from him. Was she crying? Suddenly she got up and there was a tremendous crash. It must have been the plate he had left for her with the sandwich. The noise startled him and he was up in seconds as well, every inch of his body on high alert.

“I. . .I’m sorry.” She blurted out and bent down to try to pick up the shattered pieces. She cried out and he could tell she must have cut herself.

“Don’t pick it up. Leave it.” He said bending down next to her and feeling his way around in the darkness in an effort to pick up the broken plate.

“I don’t know what happened. . .” She sounded so nervous and he couldn’t figure out exactly what he had said that had upset her beside the fact that he didn’t remember. But he didn’t understand why that would have upset her so much.

“I said leave it.” He said more forcefully than before. Go inside and take care of your hand. I’ll pick up.” She stood up slowly this time and paused for a moment before she finally went inside. He did his best to pick up the sharp, jagged pieces of
 
plate and carry them inside toward the kitchen so he could throw them in the garbage. Riley decided he could sweep up the smaller pieces in the morning when there was more light to see by. Taking the stairs to his room he looked across the small hallway to Renae’s room and saw that there was light shining from under the door. He stopped before opening his own door and wondered if he should check on her. She was upset, he knew she was. He could tell by the sound of her voice and the look in her eyes when they were sitting outside on the swing. He had wanted to reach out and take her hand the way she had taken his in the café but he couldn’t bring himself to do more than touch her hand with the tips of his fingers.
 
Riley regretted that now so he took the few steps from his door to hers and lifted his hand up to knock. That’s when he heard the muffled sobs coming from her room and he felt paralyzed. They were sobs of heartbreak. He recognized that kind of cry and it did something to him he couldn’t explain. He wanted to ask her if she was okay but he knew the answer to that question. Riley stood at the door and listened to her cry until he couldn’t listen any longer.
 
Then he went back to his room, laid down and stared at the ceiling. Something was off and he couldn’t tell what it was exactly but he could tell there was something that didn’t make sense about Renae. He wished he could put his finger on it or even have the courage to come right out and ask her the way she had asked him. But wouldn’t that mean that he’d have to reveal even
more
than he already had? No. He couldn’t do that. Riley could barely take the memories himself how could he ever put the horrors into words and expect
anyone
to understand.
Maybe she could.
No-
he shot back at the voice in his head that wanted him to share his pain, his
guilt
.
All you have to do is say the words and wait.
Riley rubbed his eyes. Stop it! Stop it! How could he crack himself open and let the contents of his head spill out for her to sort through? Misty wanted to and he wouldn’t let her. He
loved
her and he shut her out so how could he let a perfect stranger
in
? He exhaled unsure of what he wanted to do. What he knew was that he was tired and afraid to close his eyes. Not because the nightmares would come but because maybe they wouldn’t and after a full night’s sleep he might decide that he wanted to tell Renae the truth more than he needed
not
to tell her the truth. Then what excuses would he have? But Riley knew he didn’t deserve that kind of rest or relief, not now and not
ever
. He had to keep reminding himself that what happened on that road had really happened and that no matter what anyone said it had been no one’s fault but
his.

Brenda was devastated. Riley Favreau
didn’t
remember? How was that possible? The moment he had said the words she knew she couldn’t sit on the swing any longer. She had to leave, she had to run. But she hadn’t counted on the plate on her lap and the loud noise it made as it crashed on the floor at her feet. The noise had startled Riley and brought him to his feet beside her as she bent down to clean up the mess. Brenda had cried out when she felt the sharp cut of the pieces into her skin followed by the warm, sticky flow a blood from the wound. However, the pain had been momentary compared to the waves of pain she was feeling in an attempt to reconcile herself to the words Riley had uttered.
I don’t remember.
Brenda had felt sick to her stomach at the sound of those words. How could you possibly
forget
she had wanted to scream at him. Was he lying? Did he know who she was? So many questions were swirling in her mind as she lay on the bed clutching her tear soaked pillow. She couldn’t help but cry her heart out. It was like losing Shane all over again knowing that she would never really know what happened to him on that road. Realizing that she had put all of her hope on the chance that Riley Favreau would be able to tell her if Shane knew what she had done, if he had used the last moments of his life to speak about her or the boys. That possibility was gone now and she suddenly didn’t have the will to do anything but stay where she was and let herself bleed tears from the remnants of a heart so bruised she could hardly breathe. Brenda wondered what Riley thought about her strange behavior. He might decide to knock on her door at any time and then what? What would she say if he asked why she was so upset? More lies about the
friend
whose husband had been killed?
My husband!
It was my husband who died!
How could he claim to have forgotten something so horrible, so tragic? She couldn’t believe it. Brenda remembered the look on Riley’s face in the picture taken by photojournalist Steve Rappaport on that fateful night. Riley’s face had been contorted in pain, his mouth forming a soundless scream, his uniform covered in dirt and blood.
Shane’s blood!
Dragging an unconscious or dead Shane?
God, she had to know!
 
She wanted to run back downstairs and confront him, hit him with her fists and make him tell her what she wanted to know. Unfortunately her limbs were heavy with the weight of her grief and she was unable to move. Soon the heaving sobs that racked her entire body subsided and there was nothing more she could do or feel but the numbness that followed the emptying. Her eyes closed and she drifted into a dreamless sleep of exhaustion.

***

The moment Brenda opened her eyes a bright shaft of light hit her face and she immediately closed them again. Her head was throbbing and the skin of her face felt tight and sore. She was clutching the pillow and realized that she was still in the same position she’d been in when she closed her eyes the night before. The door to her room remained closed and the lamp was still on by the side of the bed.
 
Slowly she turned onto her back blocking both the lamp light and the sunlight by covering her eyes with the back of her hand. She had no more tears to cry.
What do I do now?
That was the question that pulsed with the pounding coming from her head. The man she thought would have the answers claimed not to remember a thing. Where did that leave her? Should she throw him out because he couldn’t give her what she wanted? Isn’t that why she offered him a place to stay in the first place? It wasn’t to help him; it was to help her get over her own guilt and her own sorrow. Maybe she should just pack everything up and sneak away in the middle of the night. After all, she’d been away from home and her sons too long. So what if Meagan McGuinnis exposed her affair on national tv? What did it matter now? She could weather the storm, she’d done it so far. What did a few more bumps on this hellacious road matter? But then she thought of her sons, she thought of what Callan had already seen, what he already suspected. He barely acknowledged her existence now what would happen when he learned the truth?
He’ll never forgive me. Never!
Then she thought about Taylor, he was so small and trusting. How could he possible understand? Brenda feared that someone would take it upon themselves to make him understand and then how could she protect him? And Jon? Her lungs constricted at the thought of him. The guilt she felt about the whole situation was bad enough but seeing him humiliated on national television and discharged almost certainly dishonorably didn’t seem right. They had made a mistake that was all. Why couldn’t they just close that chapter in their lives and move on?
Because Meagan McGuinnis won’t let you, that’s why!
Brenda sighed. She felt exhausted and unable to move. The slightest movement was a herculean undertaking. Coupled with the fact that she had no desire to see Riley, she wanted nothing more than to hide in her room indefinitely. But then came the knock at the door.