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BOOK OF THE MONTH: HOMEFRONT
CHAPTER NINE
Gale slept like shit.
It was a bad start to any day when he didn’t get at least three hours of sleep. Anything less and it was going to be a rough day for all parties concerned.
He’d been getting by on so little for so long that he’d almost forgotten how bad it felt to toss and turn all night. Most nights he simply sat up watching TV, nursing a beer until he fell asleep.
Last night, he’d been too keyed up from the argument with Melanie to do anything but pace his apartment. He’d started drinking around midnight and crashed somewhere around two.
The alarm for PT formation went off somewhere around four forty-five, just like it did every day, and he dragged his dead ass out of bed and into the bathroom.
He cut himself shaving and swore a blue streak as he tried to stop the bleeding. Blood had dripped down his cheek and onto his chest before he’d finally managed to stick a piece of toilet paper on the wound.
He managed not to slice any major arteries as he finished the rest of his face and barely remembered to wipe the blood off his chest before he left the bathroom. “What the hell?”
Beneath the blood was a bright silver hair. Actually there were several. “Wonderful. I’m turning into a silverback,” he grumbled. He wondered if it mattered that first the hair on his head had started turning grey and now his chest hair was fading. Jesus, he practically had one foot in the grave.
He swiped at the blood then finished dragging on his PT shorts and t-shirt, hoping the morning didn’t get any worse. But that would be too much to hope for.
Traffic sucked because he managed to get out of his apartment five minutes later than he normally did, which meant he was still sitting in traffic as zero six hundred hours rolled by.
He’d forgotten all of his anger management techniques by the time he finally pulled into his parking spot behind the company. He didn’t even bother to go into the office. He locked his keys in the truck, grabbed his PT belt, and stalked around front to formation.
His platoon sergeants had everyone already formed up but someone important was missing. “Where’s the commander?” he said to Iaconelli, his headquarters platoon sergeant.
“Not sure, Top,” Iaconelli said. “None of the lieutenants have heard from him either.”
Gale frowned but there was no way to call his commander because he’d left his cell phone in his truck. As Mondays went, this one sucked. “All right, well here’s hoping he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere.”
He took the company on an eight-mile run. The pace wasn’t grueling; at least, not as bad as Gale could have made it. As shitty as his Monday had started off, he needed to run until his mood improved.
Which meant the formation would run with him until they quit, passed out, or died.
But no one said a word. They were too busy keeping up or trying not to puke.
Either way, the cadence behind him worked its way into his blood and helped him find his rhythm as he took his frustrations out on the Fort Hood pavement.
He couldn’t figure Melanie out. She’d let him come over. She’d encouraged his talking to Jamie, and then when things had gone pretty damn good in Gale’s opinion, Mel had gotten upset.
Not upset. Jealous.
And that didn’t make a damned bit of sense.
He gave up the tightness in his lungs and the stiffness in his legs and became part of the formation. Part of the group. Just one piece of the whole.
There was something about running with formation that was almost peaceful. Except when he was trying to kill them.
Which he hadn’t set out to do, but then Iaconelli tapped him on the shoulder and he looked back to realize he’d lost half the formation.
He looped back around and picked up the stragglers, then slowed the pace so they could finish together.
And they did, to the last man.
He released them to conduct personal hygiene and headed for the gym to shower and change. He swore a blue streak when he realized that at least some of the moisture on his face was blood instead of just sweat. And of course, his commander took that moment to walk into the locker room.
“What’s the other guy look like?” Teague asked.
“Cut myself shaving.”
“Shouldn’t you be better at this, being part Wookie?”
Gale flipped Teague off and continued to apply pressure to the freshly bleeding wound. This was ridiculous.
“What’s got you in such a shitty mood?”
“Rough weekend, that’s all.”
“And this rough weekend wouldn’t happened to be named Melanie, would it?”
Gale looked up at Teague sharply. “Just because you’ve got a happily ever after with the lawyer doesn’t mean I need you interrogating my love life.”
“Or lack thereof?”
Gale removed the tissue. Finally the blood wasn’t flowing like he’d sliced an artery.
“So when are you going to come clean with me about your concerns about Iaconelli?” Teague said after a moment.
“There’s nothing to talk about, sir.” He really didn’t want to have this conversation in the locker room. It wasn’t crowded yet, but in a few more minutes it was going to be ass-to-elbow packed. “I’m keeping an eye on things. If I have concerns, I’ll talk to you about them,” he said.
When he looked over at his commander, Teague was watching him silently. “Fair enough,” the other man said.
“So how’s the lawyer doing with all the paperwork?”
“She said this weekend that she’s never seen so much misconduct and just general don’t-give-a-shitness in her entire career.”
“Sounds like she’s making progress.”
“She’s keeping busy. And with all the misconduct we keep having, she’ll be busy until we deploy.” Teague grabbed his towel and shower kit. “So how’s the kid?”
That was the second question Gale didn’t feel like answering in the locker room. “Giving her mom fits. I’m glad I finally made it here,” he said.
“And I notice you dodged the earlier question about her mom.”
Gale scratched his chest idly. “She’s good.”
“And by good I take it to mean you’re still striking out with her.” Teague shifted, folding his arms across his chest.
Gale sighed heavily. “I’m not exactly a stellar example of father of the year.”
Teague shook his head. “This has nothing to do with you being a dad and everything to do with you holding a flame for your ex-wife.”
Gale said nothing for a long time.
“Maybe. But right now we’ve got our hands full with our daughter.”
Teague cocked one eyebrow. “You know, if you were a buck private and telling me that, I’d whip your ass for panting after a woman who doesn’t fucking want you.” Teague swiped his hand over his mouth. “But since you’re you and you seem determined to deal with this woman in your hardheaded way, I’ll just wish you good luck. Because you, buddy boy, are going to need it if you’re trying this again. Have you even been on a date in the last decade?”
“Been busy fighting a war, sir.”
“So have I.”
Teague headed into the showers, leaving Gale with his thoughts. He’d wanted to get to Hood to try and be a dad. He hadn’t counted on things getting complicated with Melanie.
And he didn’t have the slightest idea how to navigate this new terrain with his ex. Still, Teague’s comment wasn’t completely without merit. Sort of. The idea of taking Mel out for a date was insane. She was clearly still irritated with him about a number of things, and even when he tried to do things right, he ended up screwing them up with her. Still, he’d done far more stupid things in his life.
When he was dressed and alone in his truck, he summoned the courage to pick up his phone. He was glad he was alone so that no one could see his hands shake when he pressed the little green button.
“Hello?” Her voice was tense. He half expected her not to answer.
But she did and he felt a foolish surge of triumph.
“Hey. I wanted…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to see if you could get away for lunch.”
The empty space hung on between them for forever, maybe longer. Damn it, he should have waited to call, to let her get over being mad at him. It went on so long he looked at the phone to make sure the call was still connected.
“Sure.” There was uncertainty in her voice. Things were still fragile between them. He could handle fragile. He couldn’t handle silence, though. “How about Jason’s Deli?”
“Sounds good. When can you get away?”
He heard her mumble something and he assumed she was with a client. “About ten-thirty?”
“Sounds good. Melanie?”
“Hmm?”
“See you soon.”
He disconnected the call and wondered if he’d lost his ever-loving mind.
How exactly did one go about dating one’s ex-wife?
***
See you soon.
What game was he playing? She was off-kilter now that Gale lived in town. Things that had always been in their place— old memories that had been locked away— were rising from the grave, throwing her off.
There was a gentle knock on her window and she jumped, damn near out of her skin.
Gale stood outside. His hat and sunglasses hid half his face, revealing nothing but hard jaw. He looked like every woman’s fantasy soldier. Iron jaw, broad shoulders.
Too bad there was so much baggage between them.
He stepped back when she opened the door.
“Hi,” he said. There was hesitation in his voice. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.”
Sometimes, going through the motions of conversation was easier than making real conversation.
“Thanks for meeting me,” he said, falling into step with her as she locked the door and dropped her keys into her purse.
“I had time.”
He held the door for her, then followed her into the restaurant. She handed him a menu, only to give up reading her own after a moment. “So listen, about the other night.”
She didn’t miss the way his eyes crinkled at the edges as he looked down at her. Holy Lord in heaven that was sexy.
She pulled her thoughts out of the gutter. “I’m sorry about…how I acted,” she admitted softly.
The muscle in his jaw pulsed. He said nothing. “I spent most of the night trying to figure out what I did wrong.”
“It wasn’t you.” Melanie sighed. “It was me. And I know that sounds like a cliché but it’s true. I shouldn’t have put that on you like I did.”
“I…I don’t know how to fix that,” he said. He took a step closer, sliding one hand up her arm to rest on her neck. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you, Mel.”
A hesitant admission. Her heart pounded in her chest a little harder. “I know you didn’t. And I’m sorry I reacted so poorly.”
“Okay.” His thumb brushed against her jaw. A hesitant caress before he lowered his hand. They moved forward in the line and ordered. He put his hand over hers when she reached for her credit card. “Let me buy you lunch?”
He surrounded her. With one simple gesture he undid her. Chipped away at the wall around her heart a little more. “Thank you.”
They got their drinks and went to find a table, settling on one behind the salad bar in relative seclusion.
“So let’s play a game.” He didn’t look at her, though, sparking her curiosity as to what exactly he had in mind.
“A game? You never played games before.”
“A lot’s changed over the years.”
“Apparently.” She watched him snag a sugar packet from the little holder. “You don’t look like the game-playing type,” she said lightly.
“Maybe I’m trying something new,” he said. There was that look again. That look that made her insides turn to liquid heat and made her want to do dark and forbidden things with him.
“So what’s the game?” she asked as he poured a sugar packet into his unsweetened tea. She didn’t remember him drinking tea.
He leaned forward, cupping his hands around hers. “Let’s pretend.”
He stroked his thumbs across the tops of her knuckles.
“Let’s pretend what?” Her breath hitched a little in her throat.
“Let’s pretend we just met.”
“Gale, that’s silly.”
His hands tightened around hers. “Just hear me out.” She stilled beneath his touch. “Look, a lot has changed. With you, with me. With Jamie. But after the other night, I realized I was the interloper. And that you were right. That I’d waltzed right into your life and expected everything to kind of fall into place because I wanted it to.” He looked down at their hands. “That’s not fair to you and everything you’ve gone through. You’ve done a hell of a job with Jamie, Mel.” A slide of his thumb over her hand. “But I want to get to know you again. I know the girl who used to jump into the quarry with me.” He cleared his throat. “I want to get to know who you are now.”
Mel blinked at the sincerity in his words. The thick pressure in her lungs increased and she didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t screw things up any more than she’d already screwed things up with him.
But there he sat. Telling her he wanted to get to know her. Apart from their daughter.
It wasn’t anything more than what it was: a simple declaration.
So why did her stupid heart start beating faster, wanting more than she’d ever allowed herself to dream of?
***
The last time he’d been this nervous, he’d been getting shot at somewhere north of Baghdad and he’d lost his lieutenant.
Okay, so maybe that was a bad analogy, but still. It took everything he had to keep his hands from shaking.
He’d just poured his heart out onto the table and Mel was sitting there saying nothing. Looking lost and confused and a little dazed.
Maybe he’d come on too strong. Maybe he should have just left this at lunch and pushed a little more later. Once she trusted him a little more.
Once they had something more between them than awkward memories and a failed marriage and a daughter who hated them both.
But the more he’d thought about her reaction the other night, he knew he was right to lay his cards on the table. He couldn’t go into this with half measures, trying to guess what she was thinking.
So he’d taken the direct approach.
And now had to sit here, waiting.
“Can you say something? Stab me in the heart with a fork, tell me to pound sand. Anything?”
Mel laughed, pulling her hand free to cover her mouth. Her eyes shimmered and he realized she’d been fighting tears. Oh shit, he’d made her cry.
“Sorry.” She swiped at her eyes. “I just…I was just absorbing everything.”
“Absorbing in a good way or a stab-me-in-the-heart way?”
She smiled again. “A good way. I think.”
“Good doesn’t usually come with qualifiers.”
“It’s …it’s… Are you trying to say you want to date?”
That question cost her a lot to ask. She flinched from it and he saw the expectation on her face that he was going to clarify. That he was going to reject her somehow.
She’d never seemed this uncertain, this hesitant before. Even when she’d been pregnant with Jamie, she’d always seemed to know exactly what she was doing and charged full speed ahead.
It was only after Jamie was born that things had changed. Dramatically.
“I need you to come home, Gale.”
“I can’t. I’m in California, honey. I’m locked down at NTC.”
“I don’t know what to do with the baby. She won’t stop crying.” There had been tears in Mel’s voice, and crackling over the phone line that had nothing to do with the connection.
“Can you take her to the hospital?”
She’d sounded so lost.
She’d left him less than two months after that phone call.
“Yes, Melanie. I’d like to get to know you.” He swallowed the lump of nerves that blocked off his throat. “You know, if there’s no one else or anything.”
“I don’t have a big social life,” she admitted after a moment. “Jamie and work make up the bulk of it.”
“Maybe we can change that?”
He leaned back as the waitress brought their food, trying to figure out if things were going well or going to hell.
He wasn’t sure. She looked so hesitant. So uncertain.
There was a vulnerability to Mel that hadn’t been there before. And he blamed himself for putting it there.
She folded her napkin in her lap and looked down at her salad, toying with a cherry tomato.
“Are you going back to Iraq?” There was fear, naked and raw, in her voice but if they were going to do this, she needed to know if he was going to really be around or if he was off to the great unknown once more.
“Just once more,” he said.
“When?”
“A few months, I think.”
She blinked rapidly and toyed with the fork beside her plate. She didn’t pick it up.
Gale waited.
Waited until she looked up at him. Waited until she met his gaze. “That’s terrifying,” she said.
“It’s not that bad. I’m used to it now,” he said. “And I’m pretty good at what I do.”
“You’re not in danger?”
He shrugged, not wanting to travel down the wormhole of bad deployments and the number of times he’d had the shit scared out of him. “It’s always dangerous.”
“Jamie worries about you when you deploy.”
“Do you?”
The question was out before he could stop it.
Her eyes darkened with an intensity that stunned him. “Yes, Gale. I worry about you.”
“That’s really nice to hear.” He leaned forward, capturing her hand once more. “Really nice.”
“As opposed to me wanting to stab you with a fork?” she said.
His laugh surprised him, more so than her attempt at humor. “Yeah, as opposed to stabbing me,” he said after taking a sip of his drink.
It wasn’t much, but it was progress. A small step toward something normal in a relationship that was anything but.
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