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BECAUSE OF YOU Chapter 10
There were places that Jen had avoided since her illness and department stores were high up on that list. So when Laura and Nicole browbeat her into going shopping for a girls’ day, Laura at least should have known better. Instead, her so-called stalwart friend had joined forces with Nicole and coaxed, prodded, and pushed until Jen had agreed to meet them at the Arboretum for lunch and a makeover, followed by shopping for underwear, or as Laura called them, visual aids. Jen really didn’t want to know why she’d said visual aids in the same sentence as Skype. She loved Laura like a sister, but she still didn’t want to picture her friend naked in front of a webcam.
Jen didn’t want a makeover or new underwear. Lingerie. Whatever. Truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure why Laura was going for any of the above right now, either. Her husband wasn’t due home on midtour leave for another couple of months and they still weren’t talking.
So Jen sat in the parking lot of Austin’s Arboretum and waited for Laura and Nicole to arrive, feeling her scar pulse against her bra. She was surrounded by luxury cars and women who were dressed to the nines just to get their nails painted. It was times like these that she wished she owned more than capris and T-shirts. She sighed. At least her toenails were painted.
Nicole and Laura pulled up and parked next to her. They’d gone down to the hospital in San Antonio to visit a couple of guys in the burn center and had asked Jen to meet them in Austin for a pilgrimage to their favorite holy land. As her friends stepped out of the car, Jen immediately noticed that they were both dressed to blend in significantly better than Jen. She groaned as she reluctantly left her own car. This was so not going to be fun. As if she could read Jen’s mind, Nicole narrowed her eyes at her and said, ‘You could try to look like you’re going to have a good time.’
Jen offered a faint smile. ‘This isn’t something I’m used to doing.’
The pretty redhead looked scandalized. ‘Are you serious? Sephora is like Mecca. Next you’re going to say you don’t like chocolate.’ Jen didn’t answer and Nicole’s mouth fell open. ‘You can’t be serious.’
Jen couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I like it, it’s just not a need.’
‘Are you sure you’re a girl? I mean, you’re not crazy about Sephora and you don’t have an emergency supply of chocolate.’
Jen laughed. ‘Last time I checked, anyway.’
Laura, who’d been digging through her purse for lip gloss, finally looked up at them with a smile. ‘So, what’s first, faces or toes or undies?’
‘Did you really just call them undies? What are you, four?’ Nicole raised her hand. ‘I’m voting faces. I need a new look, especially now that I’m home more with Vic.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘He keeps threatening to trade me in for two twenty-two-year-olds.’
Jen gaped, shocked and certain that Vic Carponti had indeed said these exact words. To his wife. ‘That’s awful.’
‘Like any twenty-year-old would want him,’ Nicole said, with a laugh.
‘Yeah, well, at least he’s home,’ Jen said. ‘How are you holding up, though?’ She threaded her arms into both Nicole and Laura’s, and let herself be led into Sephora.
‘I’m okay. I think if Vic were taking things worse, I would be, too, but he’s hanging in there.’ She quirked a smile. ‘He says that it sucks, but at least he still has the rest of the equipment he needs. Oh, shiny.’ Nicole broke away, plucking a shimmery gold nail polish from a display.
Jen decided she didn’t really want to know just what other equipment Vic might have mentioned. She eased into the mood of the moment and relaxed with her friends as they each had makeup applied. There was pleasure enough in watching them enjoy themselves, and it was fun to see them transformed beneath the skilled hands of the makeup artist. But her thoughts kept drifting an hour down the road to a hospital bed back at Fort Hood. She needed perspective on all things Shane. She’d wanted to go in and check on him, but she’d forced herself to stay away. It didn’t hurt that she’d been attending a conference at Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio for the past week, too.
That didn’t stop her from thinking about him, though. Or remembering the strength in his touch. Every time she stared into those dark grey eyes, she felt a warmth twine through her veins, making her achy. Needy. Making her want something far, far out of reach.
‘Your turn. Shelly is doing your makeup.’ Laura gripped Jen’s hand and tugged her toward the hot seat.
Jen pulled back. ‘Really, I’m fine. New makeup isn’t in my budget.’
‘Oh bull. You do nothing but work at the hospital. You’re getting a new look if I have to hold a gun to your head.’
‘I have a hard enough time keeping my patients from pledging their undying devotion without walking in looking like I’m ready for a TV spot,’ Jen said with a smile. She didn’t need new makeup, didn’t want it.
‘What are you talking about?’ Laura asked, as she pushed Jen into the chair. Shelly, a cute girl with a blond pixie haircut and in a black smock, immediately began removing the little makeup Jen did have on. Shelly’s makeup was tasteful, not overdone, and she hoped she’d keep a light hand with Jen’s new look.
‘Nothing,’ Jen replied. ‘It’s just that sometimes, some of the patients get nursing mixed up with stronger emotions.’
‘Like . . . ?’ Nicole urged, leaning over Laura’s shoulder to spread a pale coral gloss over her lips.
‘Like one guy offered to marry me. This was after I changed his bedpan for two months running.’
Nicole covered her smile with her hand. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Honey, being a nurse is nowhere near as glamorous as it looks on soap operas. Bedpans are not sexy.’
‘That’s all I need to know,’ Nicole said, before vanishing down an aisle of bright eye shadows.
Laura stayed where she was, and watched Shelly work. ‘You need to do girl stuff like this more often,’ she said twirling a new lip gloss between her fingers.
‘For who?’
‘For you.’
Jen swallowed, then rolled her eyes to the ceiling as Shelly patted concealer beneath them. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re a terrible liar.’
She barely saw Laura move but the next instant, her longtime friend was standing right behind her, looking intently at her reflection in the mirror. ‘That scar is not who you are.’
‘Can we change the subject away from my boobs, please? What prompted this spending spree, anyway?’
‘Nicole needed to get away from Vic for a little bit. She’s trying so hard to hold it together for him, she’s not taking care of herself.’ Laura shook her head before she backed away, pulling a tester tube of dark red lipstick from a display and running it over the tip of her middle finger. ‘This color is called Harlot. Really?’
‘I thought Vic was doing okay?’
Laura smoothed the wine-red color over her lips, rubbing them together as Nicole disappeared down another aisle, cradling at least twelve different-colored boxes in her arms. Laura waited until she’d vanished again then swiped a Q-tip across the tip of another tube. ‘You’re the trauma expert. You tell me if he should be acting like there’s nothing wrong with him after losing an arm.’
‘Maybe he really is doing okay,’ Jen suggested. She closed her eyes as a brush descended toward her eyelids. She knew how she’d reacted to losing a piece of herself. But was her reaction the norm, or was it an example of what not to do? Maybe Carponti had really adjusted to his new reality and had chosen to get on with it. Maybe instead of worrying about his nonreaction, Nicole should have been grateful he’d moved on to the next phase of his life with little difficulty. Did Vic Carponti know more than she did about getting on with life after a serious injury even though his was so fresh that it still required bandages?
‘What do you think?’
She opened her eyes and looked in the mirror to examine Shelly’s handiwork. Light gold dusted her eyes, now lined with soft brown. She smiled and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she liked what she saw.
Maybe it was time she took a play from the book of Carponti and embraced the life she had.
* * *
‘I hear you’re harassing the hospital staff,’ Randall said by way of greeting.
‘Nice to see you, too.’ Shane was never in the mood to deal with this particular lieutenant, but today, his tolerance was at an all-time low. He had a hard enough time maintaining his military bearing around Randall when he wasn’t immobilized in a hospital bed. Seeing the man plucked a cord on Shane’s last nerve. He glanced down at the IV in his arm and wondered briefly if he could get some additional morphine so that he could punch the little prick and later claim that he’d been under the influence. Course, that would involve Randall coming close enough for Shane to reach him, and then standing still long enough for Shane’s one working fist to connect. He almost laughed at the direction of his thoughts. Carponti would be proud.
‘So I’m sure you know why I’m here,’ Randall said, walking in like he owned the room. Shane prayed for patience. Or divine intervention. He wasn’t in a position to be picky.
‘Enlighten me.’
Randall ran his tongue over his teeth before he pulled out that damned clipboard of his from beneath one arm. ‘Sensitive items are missing from your platoon. Since you never bothered to finish your reports, the CO sent me back to find out what happened.’ Randall looked down and read off a series of serial numbers. ‘When is the last time you physically saw these items?’
Anger sparked inside of Shane with each passing number. He was hurt, his men were hurt, and this arrogant son of a bitch stood here, reading off serial numbers like the equipment was the most important thing in the world. Serial numbers Shane recognized from having read them off multiple times a day every single day during the deployment. Serial numbers Shane couldn’t have cared less about at the moment. ‘Have you visited any of our men since you’ve been home?’
Randall frowned and studied the clipboard. ‘I haven’t had time since I’ve been back. Someone had me barred from the visitor’s list. I had to go all the way to the deputy hospital commander to get access.’
Shane coughed into his hand. Barring Randall was something Carponti would do. He caught himself wondering how the young sergeant might have pulled that one off. Not that he was going to confess his suspicions to Randall.
‘Do you even know how many of our troops are back here?’
Randall’s eyes narrowed as he studied Shane. Shane answered for him.
‘Three.’
‘I know. I have the names right here,’ Randall said, tapping the paper with the end of his pen.
‘You need a clipboard to account for three soldiers? Really? And that’s acceptable to you as an officer? We’re talking about equipment versus troops, asshole. You can replace it.’
‘I told you ‘
Shane held up his hand and the lieutenant turned a brilliant shade of apoplectic purple. Shane leashed his temper, barely. His words came out tight and tense. Close to the breaking point. He deliberately kept his voice low. ‘Do you even care that we’ve got wounded troops back here? Or is everything always about what’s important to you?’
‘We can get more people. Equipment has to be manufactured, shipped ‘
Shane exploded, grabbing for the lieutenant, who was just out of reach. ‘You self-centered, arrogant, son of a bitch! These are people’s sons and daughters!’
‘Sergeant ‘
‘Out! If you’ve got a problem with that, sir, I recommend you contact Captain Davila downrange. Because I am not talking to you and my men are not talking to you. Not until they are out of the hospital and well enough to deal with your bullshit. Go play fucking Nintendo or whatever, but get the hell out of this hospital.’
‘If you’d bothered to do a simple inventory, you and your men wouldn’t be in this situation, Sergeant,’ Randall said, using sergeant like it was a derogatory slur of the worst sort.
‘Out. Now.’
Randall lifted his chin and Shane wished, oh, God, how he wished, he could take the smirk off the lieutenant’s face. Permanently. ‘I’ll be back. And when I come next time, I’m bringing the MPs. You will answer my questions, Sergeant. Wounded or not.’
The door slammed like a gunshot behind him and Shane’s heart pounded against his ribs. He leaned back and closed his eyes, taking slow deep breaths and praying for calm.
Trent had to be out of his damn mind sending his executive officer back here. For this? There had to be more to the story. Shane slammed his fist against the railing, frustrated and impotent. What the hell was going on downrange?
ONE CLICK BECAUSE OF YOU
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