“Do you want to come in with me or wait here?” I asked Lara.

“I’ll wait here. You go and do what you have to,” she said, and smiled at me.

“Okay, I won’t be long.” I kissed her and jumped out of the truck. I walked up to the front door of a small house with an immaculate lawn. A woman opened the door.

“Hey, Marla,” I greeted.

Her mouth dropped open. “Kit. What are you doing here?”

“I was passing through and just thought I would stop by. Where’s Mike?”

“At work,” she said slowly.

“Kids at school?”

“Yeah. You want to come in?” The years had not been so kind to her. There was something sad about her.

“Sure,” I said.

“You got someone in the car?”

“That’s my girl Lara.”

“Doesn’t she want to come in?”

“No, she’s got a Dolly Parton CD on. Country music hurts my ears, so she has to find opportunities to listen when I’m not around.” I smiled at her.

With an answering smile she opened the door wider, and I stepped into a neat space. There were floral curtains at the windows all tied up with pretty ribbons, and the sofas looked like miniature versions of the real thing. It was a bit like being in a doll’s house.

She waved her hand towards the largest sofa. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Thanks, but I’m all right,” I said.

She nodded and went to perch on a pink armchair opposite. Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I folded my giant form into the little sofa.

“So … what did you want to tell me?”

“I wanted to tell you about Roger.”

She frowned. “Roger? What about him?”

“He’s gone. He passed on.”

Her hands rushed to clasp her face. “No,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, Marla.”

She looked confused. “How?”

“Would you believe me if I told you someone pulled a gun on him in the car park of a bar. He got shot in the neck and died. No one knows who did it.”

She shook her head. “No, I’d have to call you a liar. Nobody could pull a gun on Roger in the parking lot of a bar. He was too fast.”

“That’s the official version.”

She stared at me, her eyes wide. “Why does Roger’s death need an official version?”

“Why do you think?”

Her face paled and her hands clenched. “I thought he left the army.”

I looked at her and said nothing.

She breathed out. “Oh my God. It all makes sense now.”

“I’m so sorry, Marla.”

She nodded a few times. A phone rang somewhere in the house and she jumped up. “I have to answer that,” she said distractedly.

“Sure, go ahead.”

I heard her pick up the call in the hallway. “Oh, good,” she said. “That’ll be great. Yeah. No, no, everything is fine. I’m fine. I was dusting the house. Some dust in my throat. It’s fine. Everything is just fine. I’ll see you tonight. What? Oh, uh. Meatloaf. Yeah. Whatever you want. Yeah. I can make that too. Sure. Sure. No. I think there’s another carton of cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. Right. I’ll see you when you get home.”

For a few minutes there is no sound at all then I hear her footsteps come back to the living room.

“That was Mike,” she said.

I smiled politely.

“I love Mike.”

I didn’t know what to say. I nodded. “I know.”

“He’s a good man. He stood by me. I can trust him. You should leave now.”

“Roger had a message for you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “A message? For me?”

“Yeah, he died in my arms. You were the last thing on his mind.”

Her legs just gave way and she collapsed to the floor. I rushed to help her to the sofa. “Shall I get you a glass of water?”

“No, get me that bottle of whiskey over there.”

I walked up to the little tray, picked up the bottle of whiskey, and turned to her. “Where are the glasses?”

“Just bring the bottle,” she said harshly.

I gave her the bottle and she swigged from it like a sailor. She must have drunk a quarter of the bottle’s contents. Then she closed her eyes. When she opened them they were different. “What’s the message?”

“He wanted you to know he loved you. There was no one else for him. Ever.”

She blinked very quickly. “Then why did he leave me?”

“He wanted to protect you. He knew he would leave you a widow. He didn’t want that for you.”

She began to cry then. Softly then harder and harder. “That was not his decision to make. I’ve lost everything. He broke my heart, Kit. He broke my heart.”

“It was the job, Marla. It broke us all.”

“You know what he used to say?”

“What?”

“He used to say there would be no more wars if politicians had to send their sons to fight.”

“Yeah, and how right he was.”

She swallowed and stood up. “Thank you for coming here.”

“No problem.” I turned to leave. “Look, I can see myself out.”

“Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“You remember that time we all went up to the mountain?”

I smiled sadly at the memory. It was the last time we were all together. “Yeah, sure.”

“We got married, you know? We exchanged rings under the moonlight and he swore to me that he would never love anybody else.”

“He kept his promise, Marla.”

“So did I,” she whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear.