Surrender (16 page)

When I came to, I was twisting around underwater as if I were a rag doll, my bearings screwed up as I tried to make sense of up and down. I tried to remain calm, even as my lungs began to burn, biding my time until the water calmed.

It would be easy enough to close my eyes and just let go. I could think of worse ways to die than drowning inside the biggest wave I'd ever surfed. For nearly my entire life I'd been ready to square with death, but I would not die today. This much I knew with all certainty.

Finally, when the wave had passed, I kicked up toward the light and broke the surface, sucking in air to fill my lungs.

—

“Good morning,” Karen said when I came into the kitchen after a hot shower. She looked up from the newspaper, studying me over her glasses. “Did you go surfing?”

“Yes. I went to Black's Beach.” I gave her shoulder a squeeze as I walked by to get to the coffeemaker. While I poured myself a cup of coffee, I told her the story of how I'd bit it, and lifted my shirt to show the resulting bruise on my back.

“Saw your board out back. Both pieces of it,” Dad said from across the table. “That must have been some wipeout.”

I sat down at the table, shaking my head. “I guess it was time to get a new one,” I said. “I've had that one since high school.”

“I remember. You saved up for it for a long time.”

“Actually, Mom paid for half.” I took a big sip of coffee, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. “But it died a valiant death, helping me figure out how to proceed with my life.”

“And?” Karen prompted.

“I'm not giving in so easily.”

Dad gave a short nod. “Good.”

After a long pause, Karen said, “So, are you staying till Thanksgiving?”

“If you'll let me.”

“You kidding?” Karen asked. “We haven't seen you in forever. Randy and Catherine will be thrilled.”

“Okay. I'll stay.”

—

Thanksgiving was a rowdy affair. Dad and I tried to watch the game but my half siblings, Randy and Catherine—ten and nine respectively—had other ideas for the wide-screen TV, begging to play their newest Xbox game.

Eventually, Dad relinquished the remote control and sat back, shaking his head. “These kids today, they're so technology savvy,” he grumbled. “Must take after you.”

They put on a dancing game and it wasn't long before Catherine was tugging on my hand, begging me to play.

“He won't,” Randy told her, glancing at me. “He's too chicken.”

“I'm not Marty McFly—I won't rise to that taunt,” I said with a laugh.

“Who's Marty McFly?”

I caught my dad's eye across the way and we both let out exaggerated sighs. “From
Back to the Future
?” I prompted. “Never mind.” Still, maybe I was a little bit of a McFly because I ended up getting to my feet anyway.

“Neal, it's okay if you don't know how to dance,” Randy said right before the game began.

“Not likely,” I said, and I began to make a fool of myself in front of my family. It took only one round before I got the hang of the game and flinging my limbs around actually started to make sense.

“Ha!” I cried out when I finally won a game. I bent down and picked Randy up by the waist, twirling him in a circle while he laughed. “Who can't dance now, sucker?”

Catherine got on the couch and joined in, jumping on my back and clasping her hands around my neck. Despite the weight, I twirled them around until we fell in a dizzy heap on the carpet.

I rolled away and got to my feet. “Hey, let's see if Karen needs some help with the food,” I said. “Who wants a piggyback ride to the kitchen?”

—

The next day, I said my good-byes to Karen and the kids, then Dad took me to the airport.

At Montgomery Field, Dad followed me inside the hangar to take a look at the plane we'd built. “Looks like you're taking good care of her,” he said as he slid a hand along the plane's smooth side, not so much a gesture of tenderness as a way to detect any damage on the aircraft's skin.

“Yeah.” I removed the tail chock and inspected the elevator and rudder, checking their range of motion.

Dad helped me complete the preflight safety check, going so far as to sit in the cockpit. He put the headphones on and listened while I communicated with the radio tower.

“When do you think you'll get tired of this life and settle down?” Dad asked after preflight had been completed. “I mean, it's gotta get lonely, right?”

“It wasn't.” I leaned back in the seat and looked out the windshield, considering my future. “Until Julie.”

“So where exactly is it that you're going?” he asked with a lift to his eyebrow.

I turned my head and grinned.

“Well, good luck winning her back, son. You know we Harding men are not the best at grand gestures. Remember that time I tried to ask Karen out?” He chuckled. “Whatever you do, a salsa band is never a good idea. For anything.”

“I'm taking notes,” I said, deadpan. “No salsa band. Check.”

“I'm serious. If I've learned anything, it's that you just need to speak plain and from the heart.”

“That's the only way I know how to speak.” I gave him a pat on the chest. “Learned from the best.”

He looked around one last time, gazing fondly at the various instruments before us. “When you get your affairs in order, let's have a cross-country trip, just you and me.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” I said. “I say we go to Alaska. Go salmon fishing.”

“Okay. I'll start mapping it and you tell me when you're available.”

I smiled at my dad, suddenly struck with the realization that somewhere along the way, he'd grown old. His hair was thinner now and more gray than brown, the lines around his eyes and mouth more pronounced, his skin seemingly pulled down by gravity. But despite the physical changes, he was still that same man who'd taken care of my mother during her last years, who'd kept her company at the hospital and read her favorite books aloud when she was too tired to lift her head. Then he'd turned around and come back home to take care of me, being both mother and father to a kid who was still trying to make sense of life.

“It'll be okay, Neal,” Dad had said one night as we drove home from the hospital.

“I don't know why you'd think that,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “Mom's not doing so well.”

He patted my leg. “I meant, you and me, we can make this work.”

“How?”

“Neal, there's life after Mom.”

I turned away, furious with the world, especially with the man who was telling me he would be okay without my mom. How could he possibly be okay when the love of his life was about to die? If it were my wife, I'd be beside myself. I might even consider dying with her.

“You know how we're always talking about building a plane?” Dad asked a few miles down the highway.

I slouched down farther into the seat, not saying anything.

Dad glanced over. “Let's do it. Let's buy a plane kit and build one already.”

I hadn't believed him at the time, but sure enough, he had come home with a magazine full of propjet planes the next day and we had perused the entire catalog of kits, making a spreadsheet comparing all the planes before finally making our choice.

We'd started building the plane before Mom died, but we didn't finish it until years after her death, when I finally understood what he'd been saying about death and life and love.

“Thank you, Dad,” I said, speaking as plainly as possible. “For being a great father. For your sacrifices in order to take care of me and Mom. I know it couldn't have been easy to separate from the Navy at the height of your career.”

Dad focused on the windshield through narrowed eyes, blinking fast. “It wasn't much of a choice between my career and my family. What was I gonna do, just leave you on your own to become a hoodlum?”

“I know. But some kids aren't lucky enough to have a dad at all,” I said, thinking of Will and the woman who was trying her best to make sure he didn't feel the loss. “And here I am, with an embarrassment of riches.”

“Save those pretty words for your woman,” Dad said, rubbing his nose. “You'd better get going if you want to get there before dinner.”

I gave him a quick hug before he climbed out of the plane. He waved as I taxied out of the hangar, his figure getting smaller and smaller as I headed off onto the runway.

I landed in Dallas at around five thirty in the afternoon, and by six thirty I was getting out of the cab in front of Julie's house. I hesitated at the front door, going over the plan in my head.

Step one: Fly back to Dallas.

Step two: Make big huge declaration of love.

Step three: Sweep her off her feet.

Step four: Live happily ever after.

The plan would require some improvisation, but I was sure it would work. It had to.

I had just lifted my fist to rap on the door when it suddenly swung inward, with Julie looking back in the house, saying, “Hurry, Will. He's about to arrive.” She squeaked when she turned and ran smack-dab into my chest; I took hold of her shoulders and steadied her, fighting the urge to hold her against me.

“Neal,” she cried out, jumping back. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren't expecting me?” I asked before hearing the car door slam behind me. I turned to see Kyle—the ex-husband—coming toward us with a bouquet of red roses in his hand. I spun around to Julie. “What's he doing here?”

She looked abashed for a moment then squared her shoulders, letting me know it was none of my business. “He's visiting,” she said and walked around me to greet Kyle with a kiss on the cheek.

My face flamed as I turned on a heel. I was about to leave when I heard a little voice call out my name. I spun around in time to watch Will as he launched himself at me. “Where have you been?” he cried, pressing his face into my stomach.

I wrapped my arms around him, painfully aware of the two pairs of adult eyes trained on us. “It's good to see you, bud,” I said, patting his back.

“I've been using that smartpen you gave me.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you using it on?”

“Practicing writing and doing drawings. But Mommy has to help me upload them to the computer.”

“That's awesome.”

“Hi, Will,” Kyle said, reaching around me to rub Will's head. “Good to see you, little man.”

Kyle crouched down with arms held out; Will looked at his mom before giving in to the awkward hug. “Hi, Kyle,” he said, not bothering to hide his lack of enthusiasm.

“Come in, Kyle,” Julie said, ushering Will and Kyle inside. When it was just the two of us out there, she closed the front door and faced me. “What are you doing here, Neal?” she asked, looking so put together in her skinny jeans and soft sweater that matched the blue of her eyes, her hair twisted in a pretty knot behind one ear.

“What am I doing here?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest. “What is
he
doing here?”

“He's coming for a visit.”

“With roses? Already?”

She sighed, her eyes filled with sadness as she gazed at me. “I'm sorry you had to see this.”

“Was I that forgettable that you've moved on already?”

She frowned. “You know you're not.”

“Then why . . .” I motioned to the door, letting the sentence hang incomplete in the air between us.

“He's just visiting.”

“That man is still in love with you, Julie. Surely you see that.” And she knew full well that he wasn't the only one. I took hold of her left hand, staring hard at the silver band on her ring finger.

“That's not what you think it is,” she said, gently prying her hand loose. “I'm not getting back together with Kyle, if that's what you're thinking.”

“Then why are you wearing a wedding band, Julie?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“To remind me of the past,” she said softly, twisting the ring around her finger. “And to remind me to be strong in the future.”

I felt suddenly short of breath. “Do you still love me?”

She hesitated, clearly trying to decide how much to confess. Finally she let out a soft breath. “I've only loved—I mean, really loved—two men in my life,” she said. “And you are one of them.”

I felt buoyed by her confession, until it dawned on me who the other man was. I took a step toward her and again took careful hold of her hand. “I know I destroyed your trust in me. But if you give me another chance, I know I can earn it back.”

She glanced at the door, then at me, conflicted. “I want to talk, but not right now.” She squeezed my fingers. “Dinner tomorrow night?”

A smile spread across my face and Julie's features finally eased up.

“I'll call you later,” she said and put her hand on the doorknob.

Before she could disappear inside, I wrapped my arms around her and brought her back against my chest, burying my face in the back of her neck. I closed my eyes and whispered, “I miss you.”

She held still, her heart thumping wildly under my hands. “Me, too,” she said before she stepped out of my hold and went inside.

—

At seven o'clock the next night, I found myself in the exact same spot, but this time I knew I'd be invited inside. At least, I hoped I would be.

“Come in,” Julie said when she answered the door, still wearing that damned ring on her finger. She'd said it was a reminder, but from where I stood, it looked like she was using that ring to keep her feelings for me reined in.

I entered and gave her a kiss on the cheek, lingering when I caught a whiff of her scent: vanilla and fresh breeze. I straightened and put my hand in my pocket. “I brought you something from San Diego.”

“What is it?”

I held out my hand, offering a small white box. “It's just a necklace,” I said quickly, trying to avoid an awkward guessing game about the contents.

She took off the lid and lifted the silver necklace out. I set the box aside and said, “Can I put it on you?”

“Sure.” She lifted her hair and turned around as I clasped it shut at the back of her neck. When I was done, she turned to the entryway mirror, running the pads of her fingers over the tiny silver bird flying across her collarbone.

I ran a hand through my short hair. “I saw it at a market in San Diego and thought of you.”

She touched it again, giving me a warm look. “It's perfect. Thank you.” Our moment was interrupted when something beeped around the corner. “Dinner's ready.”

“Is Will around?” I asked as I followed her into the kitchen. Seeing that the table was only half set, I went to the cabinet over the microwave and took out three plates.

“No. He's having a sleepover.” She took a casserole dish out of the oven and set it on the stove.

A sleepover—now,
that
was a hopeful little development. I put one plate back and handed Julie the rest.

“I figured we needed some privacy to talk.”

I leaned against the counter, watching her. “So let's talk.” I looked pointedly down at the steaming food on our plates. “We have time until the food is cool enough to eat.”

She took a deep breath, nodding. “You were right about Kyle,” she said, diving right in. “I invited him over just to visit, but he thought it meant something more.”

I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I knew it.”

“He wanted to get back together. He said he missed us, that he wanted us back.” Julie leaned on the counter beside me, refusing to meet my eyes.

“What did you tell him?”

“Kyle's a good man. He's honest and hardworking and would do anything for us.”

“All great qualities,” I said.

She looked up at me, amusement playing along her lips. “Yeah, I bet you really think so.”

“So what did you tell him, Julie?” I asked, starting to lose patience. I'd hate to think she had invited me over just to tell me that she was getting back with Kyle, but hell, it could happen.

“Our food's ready,” she said, evading the subject and taking our plates to the table.

We ate in silence, glancing at each other over our meals. I knew she was trying to torture me—and I probably deserved it—but I was nothing if not patient. I could wait.

“You have room for dessert?” she asked after we were done with the casserole.

“I have room for more talking,” I said with a raised eyebrow.

She chuckled softly before gathering the dishes and taking them to the sink.

I followed her, coming up from behind and setting my hands on her hips. “You're playing with me,” I said, squeezing her sides until she laughed. I set my chin on top of her head and breathed her in, taking pleasure in holding her again.

“Neal,” she said, twisting out of my arms. “I told Kyle the same thing I'm going to say to you.”

I froze. “That you'll see us both?” I asked, hoping a joke would change her mind. Or at the very least, ease the pain in my chest.

She shook her head. “I'm sorry. I think Will and I are better off alone. We need to uncomplicate our lives.”

I reached out and touched the bird at her neck, thinking it such an appropriate symbol for that moment. “Is this what you really want?” I asked, sliding my hand down so that my palm lay above her heart.

She swallowed hard as her heart rate sped up. “No, it's not what I really want. But it's what my son and I need.”

“I thought we had something good going.”

“We did.” She met my gaze squarely, almost accusatory in nature. “But that was my fault. I shouldn't have let it go that far.”

“Let it go that far?” I echoed incredulously. “You asked me to move in with you.”

“Look, Neal,” she said, taking my hand and leading me to the couch. She sat down, but I remained standing, getting ready to fight for her. Or maybe getting ready to leave. “I think that what happened was probably for the best,” she said.

“Oh, how do you figure?”

“I've been thinking about it. It's all I've thought about lately,” she said, her eyes fixed on her lap. She picked at an invisible spot on the dark denim. “It wouldn't have worked in the long run between us. You're still in the reserves—that never changed.”

“I thought you'd gotten over it.”

“I just ignored it, hoping the issue would never rear its head. There's a difference,” she said. “It's probably good that we break up now, before we get in too deep.”

I crouched in front of her, setting my hands on her knees. “I'm in love with you. I don't know how much deeper I can go.”

She covered my hands with her own, meeting my gaze. God, she was so beautiful, with her eyes the color of the midafternoon sky. “That's why this needs to end. Before either one of us drowns.”

I stood up and paced in front of her, rubbing my forehead while I tried to figure out what to do next. A good-bye wasn't in the plan. We were supposed to be at step four already.

I could feel her eyes on me, following me while I paced the space between the couch and the TV.

“Sit down, please,” Julie finally said. “You're going to wear a hole in the rug.”

I turned to her, completely at a loss. What could I say or do that would convince this amazing woman to let me stick around?

“Neal, what if . . .” She bit her lower lip, hesitating. “I mean, would you ever consider getting out of . . .” She looked away, letting the sentence float away.

I twisted around to face her, my brain filling in the rest. The solution was so simple and yet so complicated. A part of me wanted to be with Julie and Will, but I wasn't sure if I was willing to give up that part of my life to do it. “You're saying that if I separate from the military, you'd forgive me and take me back?”

She blinked a few times then began to nod. “When you love someone, you have to make some sacrifices,” she said. “Like how I gave up dance to be with Jason.”

I ran a palm down my face, not sure how to articulate my connection with the military. It's hard to put into words the need to serve your country, to be more than one person and become part of a greater whole. “Julie, that's . . .”

“I know it's a big thing to ask. I'm being selfish.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “I guess that makes two of us.”

“This is not an ultimatum. It's just a suggestion,” she said quickly, getting to her feet. “Jason's letter was hard to read, but it was good in a way. Cathartic. It gave me the peace of mind that I'd been searching for.”

I reached out to touch her cheek but let my hand slide down her arm instead. “I'm sorry I didn't give you that peace sooner.”

“But it also solidified my opinion on never dating another man in the military,” she said. “I can't go through that again, Neal. I won't.”

“The chances of that happening to me are very low.”

“You never think you're going to die,” she said, a sob escaping from her lips. “Until you do.”

“And so you're going to live your life in this little bubble? Death-proofing your life won't work. You'll only end up missing out on all the good that comes before death.”

“I'm just being careful.” She lifted her eyes to mine. “I want everyone I love to be safe. So if asking you to get out of the military makes me a selfish bitch, so be it. I'll do anything, be anything, to make sure you don't die like Jason.”

I took a step toward her and took her face in my hands, touching my lips to hers gently. The kiss was tender, a show of appreciation for the courageous woman who wanted to save everyone. I tilted my head and deepened the kiss, my anguish tainting my every gesture with desperation. We were gasping for air when I pulled away, but I couldn't let her go, knowing that I was on the verge of losing her.

“You can't always protect me,” I said, holding the back of her head and pressing our heads together.

“I can't help it. I'm a mom,” she said with a tiny smile.

I swallowed hard, preparing to pull the pin from the grenade. “Julie,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I love you—so much—but I can't separate from the military.”

“Why not?” she whispered.

“Because I
want
to serve my country.”