“Tomorrow. It was decided by the panel that you’ll be released tomorrow. You’ll not be allowed to return to base though until you have a psychiatrist’s note declaring you’re fit for duty, and that note you’ll only get if he thinks you talked.”
Betty had come in and Jazz sat up. It probably was a first that he hadn’t been seated on his bed when someone came in, but the night had drained him.Too many worries circled in his head. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t care about his mother or Kris worrying. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t matter what Tank thought.
“Betty, hey. I see you’re back in doctor’s duty. You look so much more official than you did back when.”
And she did. Her dark hair was bound back in a braid and her small, well-trained body covered in blue scrubs and a white coat. She looked younger than she had now that the suntan was slowly fading from her cheeks. Or maybe it was the hospital light causing her to appear paler than he remembered.
She came over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, reaching out to touch him. He felt her fingertips scratch along his beard and a wistful smile crossed her features before it vanished again.
“I talked to Tessa last night,” she whispered and Jazz caught her wrist, stopping the slight caress.
“Don’t talk about her, please,” he pleaded quietly. He couldn’t handle Betty touching him if he had Tessa on his mind. In fact, he couldn’t handle anyone touching him. Anyone but Tessa, and wasn’t that fucked up since he didn’t want to see her anymore?
“Why not, Corporal? She’s the only one who makes any headway with you. You ate with her when you didn’t before. And I heard that last night you talked to her, too. The nurses heard you, and checked on you two through the window after hearing her call out in distress. They worried you… you maybe… hurt her.”
“Hurt Tessa?” The thought alone made him freeze to his bones. She didn’t deserve that. In fact, she was the last person he’d physically hurt. Ever.
“Flashbacks are a vicious thing, Jazz. Trust me, I know. And yours are worse when she’s involved. You pulled her out into the hallway during one of them. Who says you won’t hurt her if you don’t recognize her? What if it’s not her face you see, Jazz? What if you think she’s someone ready to attack you? I never agreed with Dr. Spencer on calling her in during your fits. Not because she can’t get you out, but because she cannot keep herself from touching you, and touching can be a trigger. A bad one. What if you push her back and make her stumble? You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her because of you.”
He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her, period. Even though it was hard to watch out for her when he had no intention of seeing her again. His heart shattered in his chest at the thought even though it wasn’t the first time he’d had it. Maybe it just was that finally the thought settled from his mind in the only treacherous organ in his body; the only place which had held onto hope for far too long.
“Did you tell her that, too?”
Guilt and shame flashed over Betty’s face and she turned away from him, but he reached out and grabbed her chin, making her meet his eyes. “Betty? What did you tell her last night? And why did you speak to her at all?”
“Someone needs to fix you, Jazz. You don’t fix yourself, and you don’t let anyone else help you, but something about her makes you powerless to resist. Hell, I’ve seen people and nightmares. I’ve guided them through flashbacks and night terrors, but none of the typical stuff works with you. If you’re locked in one of those there’s almost nothing that can ground you. Nothing, but her. Even your confused mind, stuck in the past, knows you love her above all. She was your safe haven back in Iraq, and she still is now. I cannot figure out for the life of me why you keep pushing her away when you should be embracing her, and even less can I imagine what makes her come back time and again when she always leaves broken-hearted, but Jazz, you’re closer to me than my brother. War does that to people. We’re soul mates of sorts. We’ve been there together. In all of it, and I want you… need you to be okay, and I don’t know her, so her pain is nothing to me.”
And everything to me, Jazz thought. God, what was it about people trying to guilt-trip him that day?
“Stop, Betty. You had no right, especially not when seeing how much she’s already hurting. Why can’t people just stay out of my business? When did I invite you in to make decisions for me?”
He just wanted to stop caring, wanted to be left alone. Wanted to hurt and feel the pain he deserved.
“I’m never gonna stop. Not in a million years. I’m here because of you. If not for you, I’d be dead. You threw yourself over me and…”
The rest of her words vanished as heat washed over him. He knew he was falling back into a horrible memory, knew he needed something to ground him before the conscious thoughts fell away from his mind, but even reaching blindly for something, he knew it was a lost battle.
* * *
Hilary had pulled the key from the lock after closing the front door and somehow had managed to hide all the other keys as well, effectively putting Tessa on house arrest. Only she wasn’t willing. In fact, she was irrationally angry.
“Give me the damn key, Hilary Cope, or I swear we’ll get in a fight. I need to get to work early because I didn’t have the time to check the Emails and it’s my job now, too, and I need to sort—”
“You need to sleep and eat, Tessa. Stop running yourself into the ground or your son will be mother- and fatherless in no time at all.”
“He has a father,” she gritted out. Granted, he didn’t know yet, and took no part in anything, but that wasn’t his fault. It was hers, and hers alone. “And he will keep having a mother.”
Hilary stood and Tessa couldn’t help but think how weird it was that for once her son slept longer than an hour, because right now she wouldn’t have minded him screaming.
“Not if you collapse behind the wheel because you fell asleep, or because your body decided to give in since you forget to eat. Sit, have ten pancakes and I might actually reconsider letting you go.”
“I’m not hungry.” She really wasn’t. Her stomach was in knots with worry about her little man, and worse, his father. She couldn’t get around the way he’d held onto her before pushing her away. She wanted to breach his trust and ask Ryan about what trauma Jesse had gone through. She had a feeling Ryan would let something slip, obligation to secrecy or not.
“Fine, then you’re grounded. Your choice.”
Hilary marched up the stairs and Tessa felt like a drug addict needing a fix. She paced the hallway before returning to the living room and then went back again. She’d gone through all pockets and bags already, even when assuming Hilary had hidden the keys somewhere in her bedroom, and that was a place Tessa wouldn’t scout out just because… she had some decency left.
“Please, Hilary,” she called up the stairs. “You’re being ridiculous,” she then added.
“Work on your Emails from here. It’s what you have the fucking laptop for,” her friend replied loud enough for Tessa to hear. It was a surprise Johnny didn’t wake.
Settling down at the kitchen counter because she didn’t want to sit at the table, she opened up the thing, hating Hilary that moment, no matter how well she meant.
A shiver went through her body and she got up, turning the heat up. It just didn’t get better with her freezing all the time.
It didn’t take long and her new baby showed her all the Emails she’d missed so much, and she felt herself smiling as she started to read the first few. Yes, there was still heartache and pain, but there were a lot of happy stories, too, and she selected the few she wanted to read out, shortened them without changing the meaning and then continued reading through the longer ones. There were a lot from soldiers on deployment, mails reaching her from all over the word and it made her heart swell with emotions as she realized some of them had taken their internet time, limited as it most likely was, to write a public love declaration for their woman.
She only knew that she was crying when tears hit the silver mouse pad.
* * *
Jazz had forced breakfast down, faced lunch now, and waited for his doc to open the door, for someone to come in and tell him he could leave. Or someone he could make amends with, and there were quite some people fitting that description.
Finally his mother came, Kris nowhere inside as Rafaela slipped into the room. He watched how she paused, her back to him, and drew a few fortifying breaths.
“I love you, mom,” he stated, hoping to ease her worries. “You didn’t deserve what I said the other day.” He knew she’d been back every day to check for his progress, and since she was his mother she even got the information, but that didn’t change the fact it cut deep knowing she hadn’t trusted him to tell her.
Rafaela Connor finally turned and Jazz knew the smile she wore was fake. Sitting up and scooting over, he patted the bed next to him. She’d been through too much with his father already, and he’d vowed to himself to never make her worry, yet here they were.
“Hello, son. You look better.” It was a flat out lie, but he didn’t call her out on it. Instead he nudged her side.
“Hug me, mom?” he asked in a small voice and then saw how her lips started to tremble.
“Of course,” she replied, wrapping him into her arms as if her were no older than six.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and for the first time since that dreadful day tears threatened to come. None had happened when they’d told him most of his comrades hadn’t made it, or that he would return to the US because he was no longer fit for duty. Neither had he cried when pushing everyone away, including the woman he loved more than life itself, but sitting there, knowing how much pain he’d caused his mother, he wanted to weep.
“So am I,” Rafaela replied. “For everything you lost down there, for what you lost of yourself, for the pain you feel. I am your mother and I should’ve been able to protect you from it, but no. They say let your kids go, but… but…” She didn’t finish and he pulled back to look at her.
“But what?”
“But I shouldn’t have let you go. I knew what war could do to a person, but I was sure Tessa’s face would get you through this all right. That you’d return and still be my Jazz. But you didn’t. It almost seems as if you left a boy and returned a man, when I know that’s not quite true. You were always too serious, too ambitious. Not quite a man, but certainly no longer a boy, either.”
Somehow it was exactly that way, wasn’t it? He’d been naïve when leaving, had thought there was a safe place in war. After all, mechanics stayed on base, right? Only war didn’t follow rules. Terrorists didn’t, either. No one was safe being deployed to hell.
“I can go home soon, only… I don’t have one.” If he wasn’t allowed to enter base until he was cleared, he had no idea where to go.
The realization slammed into him like a sledgehammer. He’d never even thought about where he’d go after he was released because the base was where he had a room. It was where he had his things. There and in the house his mother had occupied back in Florida where he’d used to be home. But that was it.
“We have a house here now, Jazz, remember?Bought it to be here. It’s a little outside of Monterey near a lake because we wanted some peace and quiet. We’d hoped you’d get a few weeks off and figured by the water was a good place. It’s made of wood and stone. I don’t know, not typical, but I love it. Solid build, too.”
He smiled shortly. In California you didn’t really have to worry about being blown away by a hurricane.
“Sounds good, mom.” He knew he’d go crazy within days, but if it was located like his mother said, maybe he’d at least be able to run regularly. He needed to get his endurance up again before he’d find a gym to join until being able to use the equipment at the base.
God, why did he keep thinking about that place when he had no intention to talk to Will about anything, effectively making him stuck at his mother’s new house?
“We saw Tessa the other day,” his mom started and he finally pulled from her embrace, unable to deal with that topic. He knew why everyone started with it. Everyone had heard the story, or seen it with their own eyes, but why didn’t anyone realize he wasn’t good for Tessa any longer? That he didn’t deserve her?
“Mom, please,” he whisper-begged. There wasn’t much he’d asked of his mother, but this was one of the things.
“She was with Tank,” his mother added, either being oblivious to what he was begging for or deciding to ignore it on purpose. Then he did a double take.
“With Tank?”
His mother was watching him too closely and he didn’t like it one bit. She nodded. “She was babysitting Tank’s son. Or so he said. That she’d promised him to help her.”
Tank? Baby? Jazz didn’t think he’d ever hear those two words in one sentence, and especially not as belonging together.
“Tank doesn’t have a baby,” he stated confidently, but just a second later he doubted the sentence. After all, he had no clue what had happened to his best friend while he’d been away, and frankly Jazz hadn’t bothered to ask, too preoccupied with his own mind to care about anyone else.
Jesus, he barely recognized himself. Then again, he no longer was the Jazz everyone else knew, either, so what little did it matter if he didn’t know the man in the mirror any longer?
* * *
“Miss Rowan, there is a woman here to see you,” a guy announced in a hushed tone, standing in the door to the studio. Tessa looked up, her brows furrowed. She was in the middle of a show, a more positive one, and she forced herself to sound like it, too.
Especially because the four hours she had now, doing what she normally loved, were all the hours she’d gotten outside of the house. Hilary had all but manhandled her into the car, dropped her off here before following her duty as a nanny and taking Johnny to the doctor. Tessa wished she could’ve done that, but Hils had been strict about it, telling her that until Tessa slept and ate at a normal rhythm, they’d continuously keep switching up who watched her son.
Not even the argument that she was the mother of an infant—and a fussy one at that—had worked.
“A woman?” she asked back and the guy nodded.
“I cannot let her up unless you cleared her. She says her name is Connor,” he then added and Tessa felt all color drain from her face. She couldn’t and wouldn’t deal with Jazz’s wife now, but even less would she let Betty wait down there until Tessa had to leave.
“Tell her that I won’t talk to her or tell her more than I did last night, but if she feels better sitting there watching me, then she’s welcome to stand in front of the glass or sit on the sofa,” she gave back and then focused on her buttons and her announcements.
“TR here! I wanted to read out a very short mail to you that I got last night. I know you all missed hearing about happy couples, and so here it is. This one is from Claudia, and her husband is currently somewhere in Africa, or so she assumes. ‘James, my beautiful, amazing James. You’ve been gone for four months now and though it seems to be an eternity, I know it isn’t. I know you’re struggling with leaving me alone for so long. Not because you doubt that I can be truthful, but that you can still love me after what you might see or not. You worry you have to do stuff you won’t like, and that you’ll maybe even have to shot someone, hurt someone, in defense of yourself. You worry then you won’t be the man for me anymore you think I deserve. You worry you could be a shell. Well, James, here’s the thing: I promised to love you through it all. I promised to love you, your secrets, your darkest places, your fears. I promised to love your worries and your happy times. You didn’t ask me to marry you because, let’s face it, you worried we couldn’t handle war and that you’d maybe lose it all down there and you didn’t want to make me a widow at the ripe age of twenty-five. I don’t care that we never exchanged vows because here’s my vow to you, for you to hear, and for the whole world to witness. I promise to love your shell and all your broken pieces. I promise to love your tears and your smiles, your pain and your scars. I promise to be the Band-Aid you’ll need on the scraps, and I promise to always remember you did all that because you’re a hero. So, I love you. Come back in one piece physically, and as whole as you can emotionally. On everything else we work, because that’s what ever-after means. Got it?’”
Tessa had to pause for a moment, wishing those words were hers, and yet she knew they weren’t. “Claudia hopes that her words will not only remind James of that, but all the other soldiers, too, who are struggling with the same doubt. Thank you, woman, for your incredible mail. Here’s your song for James.” She put on the song, only then lifting her eyes and her heart skipped a beat, because in the door to the studio stood Kris, grinning at her, though her expression was guarded.
Tessa jumped up, happy to see Jazz’s sister despite everything that was—or rather wasn’t—going on with her brother. “Kris, hey! Why didn’t you say it was you down there?”
Kris’ brow furrowed in irritation. “What other Connor woman do you expect? I don’t think mom really knows where you’re working, and since she’s currently at the hospital, so I thought I’d try to see you during that time.” She shrugged and Tessa nodded, wondering if she should talk to Kris about Jesse’s wife or not. For a brief moment she wondered if they even knew, but then she decided she preferred to have a fun time with her instead of anything else.
“Grab a chair. You need to be quiet when I’m on air, but you know, other than that we can talk,” Tessa announced, putting her headphones back on.
“And we’re back. Man, I love Bon Jovi,” she exclaimed, running through a caller next before turning on another song and swiveling around to what she once had hoped would be her sister-in-law sometime in the future.
“How’s your son?” Kristine asked and Tessa sighted, rubbing her temples.
“Fussy and actually on the way to… I mean… son?” She swallowed, cursing herself for having walked right into the trap. Kris expression got soft and she exhaled.
“I knew it. I knew it already when we met you. Why didn’t you tell us? We wouldn’t have judged. It’s hard loving a soldier,” Kris pointed out and Tessa gaped at her.
Of all the things she’d expected Jazz’s sister to say that never had crossed her mind. “You think… I slept with someone after Jazz had left?” she asked, hating herself for sounding so hurt.
Kris opened her mouth before her eyes got wide and she clapped her hands in front of her lips. Tears came to her eyes and now Tessa was at a loss. Was that good or bad? Would Kris be very upset with her for basically having kept it a secret?
God, she should’ve just shut up, but she was still tired and her brain worked only half, if at all.
“My nephew,” Jazz’s sister finally sobbed, the tears now falling freely down her cheeks.
“It was a mess. He came way too early. When I was here for an award show I…” Tessa interrupted herself. She didn’t want to recall that horrible day when she’d almost lost everything—including her life.
“You don’t have to tell me. God, Tessa. You’re doing that by yourself? Are you —”
Tessa turned back to her monitor, the smallest of warning beeps making her realize she was up again. Damn those songs for all being way too short. Then again, she hadn’t expected to have a talk like that in-between doing a live-show. Checking the time, she realized Hilary would be back soon, too. In fact, she had less than ten minutes left.
God, couldn’t something in her life be easy for once?
* * *
Hilary was on time. Sometimes Tessa thought that clocks set their time after Hilary, and not the other way around. Her friend breezed in and Tessa instantly noticed her son wasn’t there.
“Where’s Johnny?” she asked, grabbing Hilary’s arms.
“In the car, and safe. Trust me. I wouldn’t leave him if I wouldn’t know he’s okay. But you need to come now and… Tessa, why are you talking to her?” The venom dripping from that last word made Tessa step back.
“Who?”
“Jazz’s wife. Right there. That’s the Mrs. Connor asking for him,” Hilary hissed and Tessa turned, fully expecting Betty to stand behind her even though it was impossible.
Instead she stared at Krissy, who just gave her a questioning look. It took a second, but then Tessa started to laugh until tears streamed down her face and her sides hurt.
“What now?” Hilary asked over her laughter, but she couldn’t speak. She could barely draw a breath without falling into another round of giggle fits.
She should’ve known the moment she’d seen Kris and Rafaela. Hell, she should’ve known when Jazz had actually kissed her. He’d never cheat on anyone. It wasn’t in his personality.
Happiness was an exhilarating thing. Of course there were still obstacles in their way, like the small, but important fact that he didn’t want to see her, but God, he was free. He hadn’t changed his mind about her after his confession.
He probably had just changed his perception of the world, and that was something Tessa was set on rectifying.
“She lost all her marbles now. Has gone off the deep end. Went insane. Hit her head one too many times,” Hilary babbled.
“She’s gone crazy, I got it, but seriously now, what is going on? Tessa?” Kris asked.
Tessa still couldn’t breathe, falling to her knees as they threatened to give out underneath her. She had to hold her stomach because it was hurting so much from laughing, but then her laughter turned into sobs, crazy wailing sounds that usually only wounded animals could produce. She felt how Krissy took her arm, yet Hilary stepped protectively closer.
Tessa couldn’t even speak. It was as if emotional overload had caused her whole body to shut down. She heard her friends, heard the heated discussion about who the other one was, and she technically knew she needed to speak but she couldn’t.
“I’m Jazz’s sister and Tessa was his girlfriend. Who the hell are you?” Krissy snapped, the usual calm demeanor gone.
The expression on Hilary’s face must be hilarious, Tessa thought absent-mindedly.
“He isn’t married,” her friend concluded absolutely correctly, and no matter what Betty had done that day Tessa had been at the hospital, it no longer looked to her as if they’d been a couple.
“Get up, girl. Seriously.”
“I’m fine,” Tessa wheezed, her lungs squeezing tight as if they were refusing to work. Arms lifted her and she didn’t even know whom they belonged to. It didn’t matter.
“You cannot tell Jazz,” she whispered toward his sister and saw how the young woman nodded somberly. “I have to do that.” And she would, soon. She had to. Now more than ever.
“Promise. You okay?” Kris asked, but Hilary was already dragging her away. And it was better that way. She needed to see her son and hold him so he’d ground her, give her a purpose.
They arrived at the car and Tessa hardly trusted her eyes.
“Aims? EmJay?” she asked in utter disbelief before she turned to Hilary. “What the hell is going on?”
“This, Tess, is an intervention, and I alone couldn’t do it, so I organized help… and with it two weeks of fun with the girls. Among all the crazy you need friends, and here we are. Now get in the car, we’re going home, and that’s where you stay today, no matter if Jazz is married or not, if he has nightmares or not, because I have news on your son, too, and I won’t do that on the streets here.”
Tessa gaped at her friend and then wordlessly opened the car door. As much as she wished she could hold Johnny until they were back at the Cope-residence, she knew he was safest in his seat.
“We’ll fix this, Tessa, I promise.” Aimie nudged her, her blonde hair without pink tips this time around.
“I missed you,” Tessa gave back, giving her friend an awkward hug inside the car.
“Of course we’ll fix this. And now buckle up everyone, this is going to be a bumpy ride.”
She knew Hilary didn’t mean the drive exactly, yet she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe with those girls there things would ease a little, and she could breathe again.
Too bad that Evangeline hadn’t made it, but with the little girl it was to be expected. After all, money was getting tight with a baby and no guy. Tessa knew all about it, even though through one stupid step that problem at least had vanished into thin air for her.