Way Back When
Tiffany
Matt has always been my rock, and Harrison was my escape. When we were together, I was free. I didn’t have to live up to the standards of Thomas Richard King.
Every breath I take around my dad is measured and calculated. To say my dad is a control freak is an understatement. My mom didn’t last three years under his scrutiny before she bailed to who knows where. My current stepmom, Candice, will put up with anything my dad dishes, out as long as she stays adorned in diamonds and country club life.
Matt introduced Harrison to me at dinner one night. They were on weekend liberty, following the boot camp graduation.
Harrison was so confident, laid back, even after the weeks of adjusting to the harsh Marine Corps life where they were physically pushed while mentally broken down.
Harrison was relaxed and easy to be around, and I found myself smiling a genuine smile. For once, I was laughing and carefree, all because of this tall, dark-haired Marine.
Thinking back now, it feels like a lifetime ago.
Harrison and Matt were both infantry. “Grunts,” they would say. After basic training, they were sent to the School of Infantry, otherwise known as SOI, at Camp Johnson, North Carolina. It was a five- to six-hour road trip, but I gladly made it to see Matt and Harry on weekends when they would get liberty.
The boys and I were both astounded and elated when they completed school and were stationed together at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. Harrison’s family had retired to Coastal North Carolina, within an hour’s drive from the boys’ barracks. Matt was able to spend a lot of time with them.
Thinking on this now, I’m reminded that Harrison’s family would want to know what happened, as well, even if Harrison doesn’t want to see me. They took Matt in as part of their family and sent him care packages during every one of his deployments. Not once since Matt joined the military had anyone in his family tried to contact him. I, however, made sure to send Matt the comforts from home.
For years, whether we were together or not, I also sent Harrison packages. He’s had a piece of my heart from the very beginning. I try to tell myself it’s because he was so close to Matt, but in reality, I think it’s so much more.
I wasn’t ready to admit to it or face what all of that would mean for me three years ago. Now, Harrison doesn’t have a piece of my heart. No, he is my heart. Since the day I said those hateful words to him, I have lived with regret.
Immediately after my dad left, I tried calling, texting, emailing, but Harrison shut me out, slammed and locked the door to any form of reconciliation. He’d finally had enough of my shit.
Matt had told me it was coming, yet I hadn’t listened. Matt had told me a lot of things, and I never fucking listened. Now my life is a mess, and he isn’t able to help me anymore.
Harrison has always and will always have the support from his family. I don’t know what that’s like. I got a glimpse of it, a small taste of being important enough to be thought of as an individual with feelings when I was with Harrison.
His mom, Marguerite, was so considerate toward me after Harrison’s accident. Within hours of getting the call that he had been injured, she tracked down my phone number and contacted me.
He had sustained a shrapnel wound to his knee and would be fine after surgery. However, the damage was done. At twenty-seven, Harrison received a medical discharge from the Marine Corps and had a full knee replacement surgery. Rods and pins are now in place of bone and cartilage. The scars running down his right leg are a visible reminder that it never will work the same again. To this day, he walks with a slight limp, but his build makes it look more like a swagger than the true disability it is. During cold weather or rain, the issues he faces are more prominent. As prideful as he is, no one will ever really know he’s in pain.
Throughout all of that, Marguerite Lawson was so kind. She made sure I was informed of Harrison’s daily progress, even though we weren’t officially a couple at the time. Oh, sure, we slept together, but I would never commit to him.
Thinking back, I was a complete bitch to Marguerite. We didn’t actually meet until after the accident, when we both tried to support Harrison through his injury. Harrison then had relocated to South Carolina to be closer to me.
The last weekend I saw her, well, it all ended. Harrison brought me home with him because Maggie was going to be home with Dina and their boyfriends. Harrison loves those two girls and is the typical overprotective big brother.
We were at his parents’ house when I totally judged and offended Marguerite.
I’m such a horrible person. I don’t dislike motorcycle clubs. In fact, Harrison and I share some great memories on his bike. I don’t know how to handle meeting new people, and I messed that up, just like I do everything else.
Oh, Matt! What a mess!
I know they would want to know what happened, but how do I tell them? Will any of them even hear me out? Harrison can’t stand the sight of me. Does his mother feel the same way? They deserve the closure, though. What if they sent a care package recently? I can’t let them find out by getting a returned box.
Gathering my resolve, I know what I have to do. It’s something they deserve to hear face to face. It’s about more than Harrison.