Chapter 12

Derek

 

Parties wore me down. Too many people and too much noise. Back in my early military days, I’d gone out partying, but that was before I’d spent any time in combat. Now, I got nervous in crowds, though the PTSD was more or less under control now. It had been relatively mild to begin with—I wasn’t as badly triggered as some of the people I’d served with—but large groups in small places did make my neck prickle and my stomach knot in unpleasant ways.

As I was getting another drink, my daughter’s mom appeared beside me. “Hey. You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck and pretended not to notice how much I was sweating. “Just…crowds. You know how it is.”

Sara nodded, and I thought she might have shuddered. “You want to go out and get some air?”

“I would love to.”

We grabbed our jackets and slipped out the back. I wasn’t worried about anyone thinking it was weird; anyone who knew us was well aware that my daughter’s mother and I were close.

Calling her my ex would be generous. We’d never married. Hadn’t really dated. We’d just fooled around a few times during our early years in the Army, back when we’d been stupid kids and I’d still been in the closet. The sex was fun, we were careless, and the next thing we knew, we were expecting Vanessa. In the years since, we’d done the best we could to co-parent our daughter. There’d never been much of a breakup because there’d never been much of a relationship. No divorce. No custody battles.

It had gotten complicated when Sara was posted to Germany for a couple of years, and we’d had to fight our respective commands a few times to keep our deployments from overlapping. Once I’d been discharged, that part got easier. Now Sara was retired, and though our daughter was an adult, we still emailed and even Skyped pretty regularly just because we wanted to. She was good people, and I was grateful we’d stayed friends despite some bumps in the road.

Standing outside in the cold, Sara lit a cigarette and hugged herself as she took a drag. After she’d blown out a cloud of smoke, she turned to me. “So how are you holding up?” Her eyebrows pulled together. “With…” She pointed her cigarette toward the room we’d just left.

“Like I said.” I shrugged tightly. “Crowds.”

Sara pursed her lips. “I didn’t mean the party. I meant your plus one.”

My teeth snapped together and I stared at the ground. “Oh.” Well damn. That was a complicated question. “I’m doing okay, I guess. Things are, um…”

“Tense?”

“Tense.” I nodded emphatically. “Yes. Yes, that is the word you could use. Tense.” Somehow it didn’t seem to encompass all the emotions and discomfort of the last few days, but I was at a loss for a word that would.

Sara took a drag off her cigarette, then turned her head away so she could blow out the smoke. “Did you two really drive all the way here together? With all that tension?”

“What else could we do?” I sighed, leaning hard against the cold railing. “Rhys is terrified of flying, and it would have raised eyebrows if he’d driven and I’d flown. Vanessa definitely would have noticed.”

Her lips quirked. “Okay, I suppose that’s true. But how in the world did you two make it through—what, three days on the road?”

“Four.” I sighed. “And it was… rough. I’m thinking I should just rent a car on the way home. It’s a waste of money and makes the environmentalist in me cringe, but I just don’t think we can handle another four days cooped up in a car.”

“I hope you got separate rooms at the hotels.”

I shifted my gaze away, gnawing the inside of my cheek.

“Derek…”

“We…” I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. “We started out that way, yes. And then there was one night where everything seemed really good, and we thought, hey, why not enjoy this since it’s better than fighting?”

“Didn’t last?”

“Didn’t last.” My shoulders sagged. Hell, my whole body felt like it was sagging. I needed a break from everything, especially from my ex-husband, and I wouldn’t get one for a solid week. “We tried to shelve everything for this trip and at least act like everything is fine, but it’s not working as well as I’d hoped.”

“Could be because everything isn’t fine?”

“You think?” I rubbed my eyes. “But there isn’t much I can really do, you know? No one here except you knows what’s happening, and I’m sure as shit not announcing it at our daughter’s wedding.”

“No, I would hope not.” She scowled. “I don’t understand why you haven’t told people. And kicked him out already, for that matter. Even before you found out Vanessa was engaged.”

“You make it sound like I could afford a mortgage on my own and a lawyer.” I took a long pull from my beer. “Trust me, we’re not still living together because it’s fun.”

“But you could have at least said something. And I still think you should have told Vanessa before this weekend.” She inclined her head. “She’s not stupid, Derek. She’s going to notice something isn’t right between you two.”

“We’ll be okay.” Why didn’t I sound convincing? Or convinced? “We’ve done just fine so far.”

Sara arched an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“We…” I gulped. “Why? Have people noticed?”

“Not that I know of, but you two looked about as comfortable as two actors who hate each other trying to film a love scene.”

I looked away, stomach roiling. “Great.”

We stood in silence for a while. Sara finished her cigarette and crushed it in an ashtray sitting on the railing. “I still can’t believe he did that to you. Why in the world would he cheat on you?”

I didn’t tell her he’d explained things (sort of). What difference would it have made? All that knowledge had done was make me feel worse. “Does it matter? It’s done.”

She didn’t respond.

I shifted my weight. Then, resting my forearms on the railing, I leaned over them and gazed out into the night. “You know what the worst part is?”

“Hmm?”

I took a deep breath of the icy cold air. “After all this shit, I still love him.” My own words were like a swift kick in the balls. Eyes stinging, I gritted my teeth and whispered, “And I fucking hate him for that.”

With a heavy sigh, Sara stepped closer and hugged me. “I’m sorry he did that to you. I always thought he was such a good guy.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

As she let me go, she said, “I can kick his ass if you want me to.”

I laughed, swiping at my eyes. “No, that’s okay.”

“I mean it. Wouldn’t be any trouble at all.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But…it’s fine. I just want to get through this weekend, get home, and start getting on with my life.”

Sara frowned. “You’re not going to get very far with that until you and your ex start being, you know, exes.”

I nodded.

“Step one—stop living together.” She glanced back at the party we’d abandoned, then met my eyes, brow furrowed and expression totally serious. “Get that man out of your house before seeing him every day drives you insane.”

“Have to wonder if that ship has already sailed,” I muttered.

Sara scowled but said nothing.

Deep down, I knew she was right. I needed to tell Vanessa the truth, and I needed to tell Rhys to hit the road. If I had to bring in a roommate or take out a loan or get a second job—maybe all three—to get by, I would. But he had to go.

Which shouldn’t have hurt like this, except on some level, I still thought—knew—that Rhys was a good guy. He was a great guy.

And knowing that made what he’d done cut even deeper.

You’re good to everyone.

Why not me?

 

***

 

Fortunately, the second full day in town meant tons of preparation and running around. The instant someone realized Rhys had an SUV, he was conscripted into helping with last-second errands like picking up some extra chairs and some desserts for the rehearsal dinner. Meanwhile I went between the church and reception venue, helping set things up. There was just enough stress and distraction to keep us out of each other’s hair without anyone noticing.

At some point, after we’d finished unloading some tables at the reception hall, Sara and I were pulled in to help put flower centerpieces together with Vanessa and Beth, Corbin’s mother. In an effort to save money, they’d foregone a professional florist, bought boatloads of silk flowers, colored marbles, and dollar-store mini fishbowls. Vanessa had assembled one centerpiece already, and it actually looked quite nice.

While we tried to make ours resemble hers as closely as possible—or at least not look like Pinterest rejects—Beth worked on making matching boutonnieres for the wedding party and ushers.

“You should save some of these flowers,” Beth said as she hot-glued a purple rose to another boutonniere. “They might come in handy decorating for a baby shower.”

Sara and I exchanged looks, both pressing our lips together.

“Nope.” Vanessa poured some marbles into another vase. “No baby showers in my future.”

Beth laughed. “Every Army wife is pregnant by her first anniversary. I’m pretty sure there’s something in the water in base housing.”

Vanessa laughed, shaking her head. “Well, looks like I’m drinking Coke until he retires, then. Or staying out of base housing. No babies.”

“Well.” Beth gave her a knowing smile. “You’re still young. You have plenty of time.”

“I don’t need time,” Vanessa said matter-of-factly. “We’re not having kids. Period.”

Beth scowled. “Corbin would be such an excellent father, though.”

“He’d probably be a great lion tamer too, but it’s not in the cards.”

Her mother-in-law’s scowl deepened. “Think about your parents, though.” She nodded toward me. “You’re their only child. How else are they going to have grandkids?”

“If they wanted grandkids, they should have had more kids so their odds would be better.”

I snorted. So did Sara.

Beth glared at us.

“What?” Sara shrugged. “One kid with him was more than enough, thank you.”

“You’re one to talk,” I muttered with exaggerated exasperation. When I realized Beth was decidedly not amused, I said, “Look, grandkids would be great, but she and Corbin are the ones who’d have to do all the work raising them. If they don’t want them?” I shrugged. “They’re not going to catch any hell from me.”

“Same,” Sara said. “And you’re an Army wife. That means you’re guaranteed to be a single mom for months or even years at a stretch sometimes.”

Vanessa wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. No thank you.”

Beth huffed. “I always thought deployments went faster when I had kids to keep me busy. What else are you going to do during that time?”

“Study?” Vanessa said. “Get a Chia Pet? I don’t know. I don’t need toddlers to fill my time, though, and I’m not having them just so I have something to do while Corbin’s deployed.”

Her mother-in-law glared at her, then tsked and shook her head. “I just don’t understand your generation. Not wanting kids? At all? I don’t get it.”

“That’s okay.” Vanessa smiled brightly. “We do.”

Sara and I exchanged glances again, and we both smothered smiles. If Beth thought she could wear down her new daughter-in-law’s stubbornness, she was in for a shock. Vanessa probably didn’t need the pressure, and God knew there’d be more once she was in the military spouse community, but she was no one’s doormat. If she didn’t want kids, she wouldn’t have them, and she wouldn’t have married someone without being on the same page with him. No way in hell was someone badgering her into something she didn’t want to do, least of all something like motherhood. We’d always suspected she’d go that route anyway. She’d never had much interest in things like babysitting except as a means of earning money, and kids had just never been her thing. She would coo and fawn all over a puppy or a cat, but babies? Not so much.

Rhys wandered in a moment later and looked at the craft supplies laid out in front of us. “Can I help with anything?”

“We need all the help we can get.” Vanessa gestured at an empty chair.

He shrugged and sat down. “So what are we doing?”

“Turning those”—she pointed to rows of empty vases beside bags of marbles and piles of flowers—“into that.” She nodded toward the growing ranks of finished centerpieces.

“Okay.” He pulled an empty vase toward him. “Looks simple enough.”

“Should be.” She smirked. “Dad’s handling it okay.”

“Hey!” I threw a stalk of silk baby’s breath at her. “That’s enough out of you.”

“Children,” Sara warned with a grin. We all laughed.

Except Beth of course. She started on another boutonniere, and looked pointedly at Rhys. “So what about you?” She gestured at Vanessa. “Did you know she doesn’t want children?”

He froze, his hand hovering above the silk flowers. “Um. What?”

“Beth is trying to convince me that Corbin and I should have kids.” Vanessa shook her head and emphatically jabbed some flowers into the marbles in her vase. “Not happening.”

“Oh.” Shrugging again, Rhys picked up the flowers he’d been reaching for and started separating them into smaller piles. “Yeah, I’ve known that for a long time.” He glanced at Beth. “You didn’t know?”

“Well, I knew,” she said with palpable annoyance. “I just figured they’d change their minds eventually.”

Sara, Rhys, and I all laughed.

“Yeah, no,” Vanessa said. “I mean, if I was going to have kids, I’d have done it the way Rhys did.”

We all paused, and Rhys and I glanced uncertainly at each other.

“Um.” He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”

“You know.” Vanessa didn’t seem to notice the ripple of tension between us. “Find some dude whose kid is already past all the diapers and annoying stuff.”

Rhys barked a laugh. “Oh yeah. Because the preteen stage is so past all the annoying stuff.”

Vanessa laughed and threw a marble at him.

Chuckling, he ducked, caught it, and tossed it back. “What? I’m just saying.”

“Jerk,” she said, but there was no venom behind it.

“Brat,” he retorted in a similar tone.

“Just be glad you missed me during my toddler years.”

“Ugh,” Sara groaned. “We should’ve gotten medals for getting through those years.”

“So true.” I bumped fists with her.

Beth scowled. “Well, I can see why she isn’t keen on having small children.”

“Nope,” Vanessa said with an unrepentant smile. “I’d rather start when they’re older, so blame Corbin. If he’d come into this with like a twelve or thirteen year-old—”

“He’s twenty-four!” Beth scoffed.

“Pfft.” Vanessa shook her head disapprovingly. “And he didn’t plan for his future at all, did he?”

Rhys, Sara, and I were struggling not to laugh too hard, since Beth clearly wasn’t as amused by this as we were.

Fortunately, Sara stepped in, changed the subject to something wedding-related, and steered us away from Beth and Vanessa butting heads over grandkids. That kept things a bit less painful until Beth had to leave to pick up the champagne she’d ordered for the reception.

Vanessa watched Beth go. As soon as her mother-in-law was out of earshot, Vanessa said, “I don’t think she likes me.”

“Oh, I’m sure she likes you,” Sara said. “You’re just crushing all her dreams of having loads of grandbabies.”

Vanessa shuddered. “She’s got two other sons. If she wants grandkids, she should be talking to them instead of barking up this childfree tree.”

“No kidding,” the three of us said in unison.

She eyed us.

“What?” I showed my palms. “It isn’t like any of us are surprised.”

“At all,” Sara supplied.

“Eh.” Vanessa shrugged again. “Fair.” Her humor faded a bit. “I really wish she’d give it a rest, though. I’m already tearing my hair out over the wedding—can we stop with the grandkid guilt trips for, like, two days?”

I swallowed. When I glanced at Rhys, his eyes reflected my own unspoken thoughts—we definitely had to keep our bullshit under wraps. Vanessa was handling everything as well as could be expected, but she had her limits, and she was probably getting closer to those limits than she was letting on.

Rhys cleared his throat and turned to Vanessa again. “You can use all the stress to your advantage, you know.”

“Yeah? How?”

“If she starts badgering you,” he said, “just bow out and say you have something you need to take care of.”

“Good idea.” She paused, glancing at each of us in turn. “And for real—you guys don’t mind if you’re not getting grandkids?”

“No,” we all said.

“Honey.” Sara shook her head. “Grandkids are great, but it’s your life. The three of us all know how hard it is to be a parent, so we’re not going to push that on you just so we can show off our grandkids a couple of times a year.”

“It was totally worth it for us,” I said. “But yeah, it’s hard. It’s not something you should do for someone else.”

Vanessa’s gaze slid toward Rhys. “How was it for you?”

Rhys straightened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you want kids? Like, of your own?”

“I hadn’t really decided, to be honest.” He tucked another flower into the vase and slid it across the table to join the others. “I was still kind of on the fence, and then I met your dad, and…instant family. You and your dad were all I needed.”

My throat tightened. Rhys’s eyes darted toward me but only for a second. Sara shifted uncomfortably between us.

Fortunately, Vanessa was mostly focused on hot gluing a ribbon around one of the vases. “See? So people can be perfectly happy without biological kids. If Corbin and I ever change our minds, we’ll just adopt.”

“Good plan.” Sara picked up her phone and huffed. “All right, kiddo. We’ve still got errands to run, and we need to go now before places start closing.”

Vanessa got to her feet but paused to glance at us. “You guys don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Go.”

She and Sara left, and just like that, I was alone with Rhys and a bunch of flowers in dollar-store vases. Somehow the conversation with Beth about our daughter’s choice not to have children had been less awkward than the silence joining us at the table now.

Rhys cleared his throat as he pushed a completed vase toward the others. “Corbin thinks they might need some more chairs for the reception. So, um, he might be dragging me off to pick them up.”

“Okay. Sure. Just, uh, keep me posted. If you’re out when everyone heads to dinner, I can probably get a lift with Amy or Vanessa.”

“Dinner. Right.” He swallowed, and we exchanged another one of those oh God what did we get ourselves into looks. “I’ll text and check in. We’ll figure it out from there.” Right then, his phone buzzed. “That’s Corbin.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’ll, um, see you at dinner?”

“Yeah. See you at dinner.”

He headed out, and I surreptitiously watched him go. We’d done a pretty damn good job of playing the happyish couple so far. Vanessa didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

But that conversation had been more heartbreaking than she—and probably he—could possibly know.

Vanessa and I were all you ever needed.

When did that change?

And why?