Chapter Twenty-Two
Gabriel
When I arrived back in Maine earlier than expected, my parents were surprised, but didn't ask questions. They didn't quiz me about what had happened. They didn't walk on eggshells around me either. They just carried on like they normally would, engaging in conversation as usual. They knew when I was ready, I’d talk to them.
For now, I wasn’t ready to talk.
I couldn't even pinpoint the exact emotion to describe what I felt inside me. I was disappointed that Lynette had blamed me for her father’s wrongdoings. I was angry that she blamed me for her life falling to pieces. I was outraged that she thought she wasn't good enough for me.
Most of all, I was heartbroken that she had chased me away, ending our relationship.
If it was a relationship.
Maybe it was all a fantasy I’d built up in my mind. From the moment one of my Army friends had talked me into writing letters, I’d felt close to Lynette in an odd way.
Super Charlie we’d called him.
Charlie Delaney was from Connecticut and in his mind, he was the bomb. He bragged about all the women he had slept with and his confidence had no end. He was one of those guys who would one up everyone else as soon as we started exchanging stories. That was how he earned his name, Super Charlie.
Everything we could do, Super Charlie could do better.
We never questioned or disputed his stories, and he really wasn't a bad guy.
In fact, Charlie was one of the most loyal people I had ever come across. He was always willing to lend a helping hand, and when it came to missions and tactics, he was the one who had the best ideas.
If only he had taken the reigns on our mission before we were all blasted to smithereens. Maybe then Terry and the others in our unit would still be alive today. Maybe then Charlie wouldn’t have lost his arm and one eye in the process.
Even in the hospital he’d make jokes, convincing himself that chicks would still dig him, because whether he had one hand, or two, he could still get the job done.
“Sympathy sex, Gabriel,” he’d say. Then he’d wink his good eye. “Chicks dig it.”
We’d spent many nights talking, especially after Terry died. He was the one who encouraged me to write a letter to Lynette, even if I never had any intention of sending it. One letter turned into two, and before I knew it, it became a weekly thing.
It was like therapy to me, to talk to someone who I’d never met, who wouldn’t blame me for his death, and who would listen.
I kept them all, and again, Charlie urged me to send them to her.
And I did.
Eventually.
I sighed and lowered my gaze, staring at my hands. The cool Maine air was refreshing, but it made me feel empty, cold and lonely. I heard my father open the door and come out on the porch with me. He sat down beside me on the wooden bench. I wondered what he must be thinking.
“I’m sorry,” the words finally formed on my lips.
“He speaks,” Dad said.
I turned to look at him.
“What are you sorry about?”
“For making you and Mom worry so much.”
“We’re your parents. It’s our job to worry. What else would we do with our time?”
“No, I didn't mean about this. I meant about everything,” I said and looked away. “About joining the Army when I knew you didn't want me to, for going to war, for getting injured, for almost dying.”
“It was your choice. An admirable one at that.”
“A choice I sometimes regret.”
“We couldn't stop you. That’s not what parenting is about. We support you whatever decisions you make, whether they are right or wrong. That’s what parents do. They support their kids. They help them pick up the pieces. They help them put themselves back together again.”
I looked at him with a frown.
“I know you’re hurting,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes, and I know you’re as stubborn as a mule, because you get that from me. I also know that you tend to bottle it up inside until it becomes so much that you eventually either explode or break down.”
He was right. I was like him, even though I knew that it did more harm than good.
“You know that I am here for you whenever you need me, but your mother and I feel a bit powerless when we don’t know what’s going on in your life. We want to help you and that’s all I’m here to say.”
I let out a long sigh.
“It’s a long story.”
“It doesn't matter if it takes six hours to tell me. It’s eating at you, and I will not allow my son to carry such a burden in his heart.”
“Thanks.” I hesitated a moment then decided to spill it. “Lynette’s dad attacked her.”
“He did what?” Dad gasped. “His own daughter?”
“Yeah, when I went down there I found her with her father. I first thought it was a burglar or someone trying to kill her, but it was her dad. He beat her and tried to strangle her too.”
My voice trailed as the memories of that night replayed in my mind. The anger and the hate returned full force. I composed myself because I didn't want to get angry in front of Dad. Not now.
“I got there just in time. He would’ve killed her. I’m sure of it.”
“Why would he do such a thing?”
“He was drunk and angry. He had heard stories about us and didn’t approve of it. Plus, they’re losing the bar due to financial problems.”
“That’s taking it a bit far, don’t you think?”
“Of course, but there is no reasoning when it comes to an alcoholic.”
“That’s true.”
“I took her to the emergency room, they stitched up her hand and I let her stay with me in my hotel for a few days. She insisted on going back home, and I took her back. Her father was there and things started to get ugly again.”
“Please don’t tell me you beat him into the hospital,” Dad said.
“I wanted to, but I think I did something far worse.”
“What did you do?”
“I called the cops, and they arrested him.”
“How is that worse?”
“According to Lynette it was. She yelled at me and then chased me out of her life.”
“I’m sorry. What a mess. You know, I’m not an expert when it comes to love, or relationships-”
“What are you talking about? You’ve been married to Mom for almost thirty years. I’d say you’re more than qualified.”
“Those thirty years weren't without speed bumps and obstacles. Your mother and I have been through deep ditches and rough waters. Just like every other married couple that we know. It isn’t all rainbows and unicorns.”
“But you’re still together.”
“In the end that is all that matters, really. It’s not about how many times you fight with each other. Only about how many times you fight for each other.”
Dad was as profound as he was stubborn. The kind of wisdom that only comes from years and years of experience. I was grateful at that moment, and happy that I still had him on my side, even after all these years.
Even after all my mistakes.
“And sure, we worry about you, and the choices you make, but you are our son, and we could not be prouder of the man you have become,” he said and motioned to my leg. “Bum leg and all.”
I smiled slightly, fighting the tears forming in my eyes and put my arm around his shoulders.
“You have no idea how much you mean to me.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“And no matter where life takes you, you’ll always be my son, and I will always love you. Your mother too. And that includes anyone you want to bring into our lives.”
“Same here, Dad.”
“So, she chased you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re just going to leave it at that?”
“She doesn't want anything to do with me.”
“And the feeling is mutual?”
“If you heard our last conversation, then you wouldn’t be asking me that.”
“She said hurtful things to you and hurt your ego. You said hurtful things to her and made her feel weak.”
“How did you-”
“That’s how all fights go,” he said with a chuckle.
“But those things were all true though.”
“That may be, but throwing her weaknesses in her face doesn’t gain you anything. In fact, it just pushes her away even more.”
“No, she does that all on her own.”
“I see.”
“I don't know what to do.”
“Sometimes we just have to be patient. Women don't like to be rushed or forced into things they’re not ready for, even if they say they are. They like to do things in their own time. The real question is, are you willing to wait for her to sort it out in her own time?”
“I am,” I said firmly.
“Then that is what you do. You wait. You don’t call her, or text her, or push her.”
“Won’t she think that I’ve moved on with my life if I don’t?”
“She was the one who chased you away. She has to find her own way back to you.”
I stretched my leg and rubbed the sore muscles with my hand.
“I guess that makes sense. Thanks, Dad. You always know what to say.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”