Come Back To Me (40 page)

want to do it on my own.’

‘But four more years?’ my dad asks, giving me a look.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I can make corporal again, maybe ser-

geant in a year or two.’

‘You want to go back into a war zone? You think you’re

ready?’

I turn back to him. ‘Yeah. I think I am.’

My dad holds my gaze for a long beat and I have

to fight not to look away. Is he right? Am I just reacting?

The thing is, I can’t see another way. It’s what I decided

down at the beach. The Marine Corps is all I know. Those

dreams I had of opening a cafe, of moving to LA, seem

stupid now, naive. Maybe with Jessa I could have done it,

but now I don’t have the motivation. There’s no one to do

it for.

My dad sighs heavily and then hands me a mug of

coffee. I take it.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ I say. ‘For everything. For getting me

through the last few months. I couldn’t have done it

without you.’

My dad gives me a rueful smile and slaps me on the

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shoulder. ‘Well, I couldn’t have gotten sober without you

and your sister, so I figure I owed you.’

We drink our coffee in silence for a while, and when I

finish I put my mug down.

‘I’m going out for a bit,’ I say to my dad.

‘Where are you going?’ my dad asks.

‘To the recruitment office. Get my papers signed before

I change my mind.’

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Jessa

‘Have you thought about what you want to do for your

birthday?’

‘Huh?’ I turn to look at my mom.

We’re folding laundry together – babies seem to create

a crazy amount of mess, and my mom likes to help Jo out

as much as possible so she can concentrate on her studies.

‘Your birthday − it’s next week. Have you thought

about what you want to do?’

‘Oh, no,’ I answer vaguely. Truthfully I’ve been trying

to avoid thinking about it because my birthday also hap-

pens to be the anniversary of the day Kit and I first got

together. Thinking back to that night – of our first kiss

behind the bushes, the road trip out into the desert, of

lying out under the stars – only makes me sad . . . though

not thinking about it seems to make me sadder. Once

again I try to push the memory of this morning out of

my mind, though I fail. I can’t stop remembering Kit’s

face when he told me he wanted me, and then again

when I told him it was too late. I don’t think I’ll ever be

able to forget his expression.

‘What’s up?’ my mom asks, folding one of Riley’s

blankets. ‘You seem a million miles away.’

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‘Nothing,’ I say. I’m still getting used to these conversa-

tions with my mom. It’s only since Riley was born that

she’s snapped out of her stupor and stopped taking the

Valium. She’s started to be more engaged with life again,

and with me. I can’t put it all down to the baby. My dad’s

resolution to be a better father and husband seems to

have something to do with it too.

‘Is Todd going to take you somewhere nice?’

‘I don’t know,’ I say, busying myself with a pile of bibs.

‘Are things OK with you two?’ my mom asks.

I think about not saying anything but she’ll probably

find out anyway from Kit’s dad. ‘Kit came by this morn-

ing,’ I tell her.

My mom stops folding and stares at me. ‘He’s back?’

I know my mom is desperate to talk to him, to reassure

him she doesn’t in any way blame him for what hap-

pened. She still thinks of Kit as her second son.

I nod. ‘Yeah, he’s back.’

‘What did he say?’ she asks, the laundry totally forgot-

ten.I take a deep breath. ‘That he loved me. That he

wanted to be with me. All this stuff about how sorry he is

and how much he wants to make it up to me.’ I laugh and

shake my head.

My mom doesn’t say anything, and when I glance at

her out of the corner of my eye, I see her eyebrows are

almost meeting her hairline. ‘And?’ she asks. ‘What did

you tell him?’

I shrug and snap out a sheet. ‘I told him it was too late.

I mean,’ I rattle on, ‘of course I told him no.’ I start fold-

ing with swift, precise movements. ‘I can’t believe he

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Mila Gray

thinks he can just waltz back into my life like nothing’s

happened and expect everything to be the same. It isn’t.

I’ve moved on. I’m with Todd now.’

I stare down at the sheet in my hands. It looks like it’s

been folded by a toddler with one hand tied behind his

back. I shake it out in frustration and start again. For the

last five hours all I’ve been able to think about is Kit,

about our conversation. I’ve been replaying it over and

over, each time getting more and more frustrated and

angry. My head is in as much disarray as the sheet.

‘Do you like him?’

I look at my mother sharply. ‘Kit?’ I ask confused.

These girly chats are new ground for us and I’m not en -

tirely comfortable talking to her about boys. Maybe that’s

a hangover from having to date Kit in secret.

‘No. Todd.’

‘Yes,’ I say, a little too fast. ‘Of course I like him.’

‘I mean
really
like him?’ my mom asks.

‘Yeah,’ I say. Then add, ‘I think.’

‘You think? You shouldn’t have to think about it, Jessa.’

I drop the sheet back into the basket. That thing is never

going to get folded. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I admit,

and as soon as I say it it feels like a little bit of the weight

has lifted off my shoulders. I look at my mom. There’s too

much confusion in my head. I can’t think straight.

‘Yes, you do,’ my mom says.

I can’t help the frown. ‘Kit?’ I say. ‘You think I should

break up with Todd and get back together with Kit?’

My mom gives me an
it’s obvious
kind of look and I

shake my head firmly. ‘I’m not going to do that. No way.’

‘Do you see yourself marrying Todd?’ she asks.

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Marriage? What? What is she talking about? ‘No! I’m

only eighteen! Are you crazy?’

‘Did you see yourself marrying Kit?’

I draw in a breath and think about lying, but then I

close my mouth and nod. Because I did. I used to dream

all those things – weddings, babies, rocking chairs on the

porch – not that I ever admitted it to him or anyone else.

My mom smiles smugly. ‘There’s your answer, then.

You only live once, Jessa.’

I snatch one of Riley’s onesies from her hands as she

reaches for it from the basket. She’s struck a chord. Kit’s

words from long ago come back to me:
Life’s short, you

only get one shot. Make it count.

‘It’s not that simple,’ I say, shaking my head to try and

dislodge the memory of Kit.

‘Yes, it is,’ my mom answers. ‘Your father didn’t marry

the right person, Jessa. He should never have married me.

He loved someone else.’

The casual way she’s just thrown that into the conver-

sation blindsides me, renders me totally speechless for

several seconds. I watch her as she continues to fold, a

faintly sad smile on her lips.

‘But . . .’ I shake my head trying to clear the confusion.

‘What?’

‘I was his rebound,’ my mom says. ‘The same as Todd

is for you. He married me because he wanted to hurt her,

and by the time I found out I was second best, the consola-

tion prize, it was too late. I was pregnant with Riley.’

She keeps folding clothes as though what she’s just

told me isn’t any kind of big deal, isn’t one of the most

heartbreaking things I’ve ever heard. It can’t be true. ‘No,’

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Mila Gray

I say. ‘Mom . . .’ My own heart is breaking for her. How

could my dad do that? How could she live with him this

whole time knowing that he loved someone else?

‘It’s true,’ my mom says, and then looking up and

seeing my expression she adds, ‘It’s OK. I was an idiot.’

She smiles ruefully. ‘I was young. I knew something

wasn’t right, but I ignored my instinct and went ahead

and married him anyway. I was madly in love with him.

And it wasn’t his fault he was still in love with someone

else.’

‘It was his fault,’ I say, suddenly outraged. I was just

managing to forgive my father for being an asshole to Kit

and Riley, and now this. ‘He shouldn’t have married you,

not if he was still in love with someone else.’

She gives me a pointed look and I squirm. Shit. Am I

just as bad as my dad? Am I being totally unfair to Todd?

I hadn’t thought so until now. But it’s not like I plan on

marrying Todd . . . so then, why do I feel so bad? I

squeeze the thoughts out of my head. I’m getting dis-

tracted.

‘Why did you stay with him?’ I ask.

‘Because of you two children. Once you have kids,

everything changes. And I knew that leaving him, taking

you two with me, would have destroyed him.’

‘But I don’t understand,’ I say to my mom. ‘What

happened? Who was Dad in love with?’

My mom glances at her watch. ‘It’s a long story and

Riley’s going to be awake in a moment. Jo’s going to be

here in half an hour and I want him fed by then.’

‘OK,’ I say, flustered, my head spinning.

‘And you have someplace to be, don’t you?’ my mom

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asks as she takes the basket of laundry and heads for the

door.

‘Where?’ I ask.

She pauses in the doorway and looks back at me. ‘Isn’t

there someone you need to see?’ She gives me another

pointed look and, just like that, as if she’s turned on a

light in my brain, everything becomes clear to me. I know

exactly what I need to do.

‘Thanks, Mom,’ I say, rushing past her.

Just as I reach the door, I turn and do something I

haven’t done in a long time − I race back and throw my

arms around her and hug her. For a moment she falters; I

hear the breath catch in her throat. Even though the laun-

dry basket is wedged between us creating a barrier, it

feels as if a lot of other invisible barriers have just been

broken down, and when I rush off again, breathless and

in a mildly euphoric state of panic, I feel so light and free

that I burst out laughing as I run up the stairs, and my

dad, coming out of his study with his car keys in his

hand, stands stock still in the hallway and watches me,

his mouth falling open.

‘Slow down!’ he calls out as I trip on the top step in my

haste to get to my bedroom and find my phone.

I look over my shoulder. He’s smiling up at me. I grin

back at him.

‘Can’t!’ I say. ‘I’m late for something.’

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Kit

All these rows of white stones – like rows of teeth grow-

ing out of the earth – give me the creeps. I feel like I need

to tiptoe, or at the very least apologize to the people I’m

walking over.

As I weave between the gravestones, I try not to think

of the last time I was here. I barely remember much of it

anyway, thankfully. The only thing I recall clearly is try-

ing to kill a tree with my fists. I broke several bones in my

hands, and now they ache like hell whenever it rains and

make me associate cold weather with death.

I come to Riley’s grave and take a deep, jarring breath

as I read his name carved into the stone. I sit down cross-

legged in front of it, and for a while all I do is stare at the

dates, finding it hard to believe that so much time has

passed, feeling frustrated at all he’s missed, angry at how

short his life was, that he never really got to live it. I look

at the fresh bunches of flowers, wondering who left them

– Jessa? Jo? His mom?

‘I miss you, man,’ I finally say.

I wasn’t sure what I was planning on doing when I got

here, whether I’d just say a few words in my head or

nothing at all, but once I open my mouth it all comes

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rushing out. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, tears burning my eyes. It

feels like the floodgates are opening after being cemented

shut for the last nine months, and suddenly I start to cry.

‘I fucked up,’ I sob. ‘In so many ways. I wasn’t there for Jo

and I hurt Jessa. You told me you’d beat the crap out of

me if I ever hurt her, and I have.’ I pause to swallow away

the rock-shaped lump in my throat. ‘I wish you were

around to beat the crap out of me. But I guess on the

upside, at least I get to keep my balls.’ I laugh through

my nose, snorting snot. ‘That’s what everyone’s always