Lee

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“What are you doing back here?” Jackson asked. As soon as I explained, her arms were hugging me.

“I’m so worried. Those aren’t your everyday missions they go on.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a Seal, remember?” I reminded her.

“Shit. I wasn’t thinking. But Seals have stellar skills, right? I mean they’re trained to be the best of the best, right?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Then he’s golden.” She held her hands out.

“Okay, wow … he’s got nothing to worry about like no IED’s or anything at all.”

“Double shit. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, you’re only trying to help.”

“Don’t they give them super special equipment and stuff?”

“I don’t really know what they give them. All I know is they are heads above any other soldier. They practically torture the dudes in training and most don’t make it a quarter of the way through. You have to have balls of steel to become a Seal.”

Jackson grabbed my hands. “See. He’ll be fine. And this isn’t his first rodeo.”

I gave hers a squeeze and said, “I hope you’re right. I really do.”

“Lee, if it were you on that mission, what would you want Rusty to do?”

“I’d want him to live his life, and not worry excessively about me.”

“Exactly.”

I pondered my situation for a second, then said, “Well then, put me to work so I can get my mind off this.”

She saluted me and said, “Yes, sir.”

“That would be ma’am.”

She fake punched my shoulder and gave me a dose of chores to do. Then when I finished, she called me over to her laptop.

“Which is your favorite?”

She was looking at a series of new signs for the shop.

“Ooh, I love this one.” I pointed to the one on the bottom. It had a train faded in the background and in contemporary script was written in black I’ll Be Waiting. Centered beneath it in smaller but old-fashioned font in black too was The Depot Cafe. “This one is so cool. It represents everything. What do you think?”

“That was my favorite too. I was hoping it was yours.”

“Are you going to place the order?”

“You know it. I want it up as soon as possible.”

“Did they give you a timeframe?”

“They said they could have it ready in less than a week.”

I was every bit as excited as Jackson about this.

“Any word about the article?” I asked.

Jackson snapped her fingers. “Mr. Ammons called and said he would run it whenever we wanted. We need to have it coincide with the new name of the café.”

“Yes. Maybe you should give him a call and let him know.”

“I will. He also said he found some old pictures of your great-grandfather. He’s bringing them over tomorrow with a few copies of the paper.”

My eyes practically bugged out. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. He was really happy about them too.”

“I wasn’t sure …” I stared off into the distance, but then I said, “I have to call Glenn. He needs to hear this.” When I did, he was yelling so loud I held the phone away from my ear and even Jackson heard him.

She hollered out, “Dude, you the man!”

“Dang right I am,” he shouted back.

I ended the call and told her he was going to be talking himself up something big. “Mom and Dad will have their hands full with him.”

“He’s a great kid though. Nothing like us.”

“He hasn’t hit that age yet. Just wait.”

That night, as I tried to sleep, I thought about where in the world Rusty might be. Electricity crawled across my nerves as worry fired them to life. I never got a chance to ask him about when we could communicate. Everything about this trip was so sudden, it made me question whether or not I was ready for this type of a relationship. Even though I had been a marine and was familiar with that life, there were stark differences between what I had done and what he was doing. The danger he faced was on a much greater level than I ever had. But then I thought about how my great-granddad left for the war to fight for our freedom only to return home to an empty house. I wouldn’t let that happen to Rusty. He went on these missions to save people at a great cost to himself. I would certainly wait for him. My heart cracked every time I thought of the pain he endured as a child growing up in that loveless home. My family was loving and caring, and my mind couldn’t wrap itself around the horrors he had faced. How proud his parents should’ve been of him, instead of beating and mentally abusing him.

Piecing together what little bit I knew of his past, I made a hasty decision. My laptop was across the room on the desk, so I hopped over to it and got back in bed. At first, I felt like I was invading Rusty’s privacy and maybe I was. He did tell me to google him. I never did. And I had this pressing need to know more about him, to find out what I could. So without any further hesitation, I typed in his full name, Ruston James Garret.

I hadn’t expected the page to fill up with entry after entry of nothing but information on the man, Ruston Garrett, the criminal. I had no idea that Rusty was named after his father. What a terrible reminder to have that moniker.

When I began reading, I was stunned. The charges against this man were terrible, but then when I saw Midnight Drake’s name linked, I clicked over and read all the articles about her. That’s when I first saw Rusty’s name and his testimony against his father.

I stopped reading so many times because my eyes were blurred with tears. What Midnight endured was beyond comprehension. My heart and gut ached for her. I wasn’t sure how she made it through that carnage of a life to become who she is today. From all accounts, she was an amazing survivor.

And Rusty … my god, reading about how he felt responsible for what was happening to her when he was only a young boy. The emotions that played out in the courtroom must’ve been off the charts. How I wish I had been there to help him. My heart was almost punching through my ribcage as it beat like mad.

Oh, Rusty. I wish I could’ve been there to help you get through all that.

And then my brain bounced to how it must’ve been for him growing up in a house without any affection from his mom. He said she was drunk all the time, most likely trying to avoid his dad. He never was shown any love at all. How did he manage? And more to the point, how did he end up normal?

He’d talked about the therapy he’d gone through. I wondered if he still goes. Shame washed over me briefly. I remembered my therapy sessions with my shrink and how I thought I didn’t need them … that I was stronger than that. Rusty was probably much bigger of a person than I and realized in order to deal with the emotional upheaval of his youth, he’d need the help. I was too hard-headed at first.

By the time I closed my laptop, it was after two in the morning. Six thirty would be here all too soon. I was going to be worthless the next day. But as I was falling asleep, I vowed to be the best girl Rusty had ever known and that I would show him love like he’d never seen it. Love. Where the hell did that come from?