Page 86 of Without Judgment

“When he was thirteen, I swear he had a hollow leg he ate so much. I think he grew three inches over that summer. His brothers are much the same. One is heading back to college next week; the other is about to finish high school.”

And so it went. Settling into traded stories until, before we knew it, Mick’s father had arrived home.

While his mother had been open and warm, his father was having a harder time showing emotions. He appeared grateful Mason was here all the same. His brothers were simply quiet. They both looked so much like the photo of Mickey I suspected the resemblance unsettled Mason.

“It was nice of you to come, Mason. My wife has been talking about it ever since you sent the email.”

Mason took a deep breath. “Yes, sir. The truth is that Mick and I promised one another— I’d heard so much about his family—” He stopped, emotion clogging his voice. “I just wish it hadn’t been him.”

And there it was. His unmistakable guilt. Unsaid was the wish he had died instead.

It was Mick’s mom who slid to his other side on the couch to give him a hug. “We don’t get to choose. You don’t get to choose. And if Mick had been able to choose, I believe with all my heart he’d be saying the same thing. It’s comforting to know you had one another over there. Were you with him when it happened?”

I was sure Mason was revisiting his nightmare. His hand gripped mine so hard, I winced, but I didn’t break the contact. In fact, his need was so tangible that I rubbed his arm with my free one until he spoke.

“I was. I pulled him out of the vehicle once it hit the roadside bomb. Held his hand. Talked about the apple pie he’d get once he got back stateside. Begged him to hang on. He didn’t speak. Simply squeezed one last time and died in my arms.”

My tears flowed, and I wasn’t the only one crying. But the seal had been broken. The hardest part was done. He’d been able to relate his recurring nightmare. As Mickey’s mother hugged Mason, I hoped healing could start for both of them.

Two hours later, after touring the farm, talking with Mick’s younger brothers, eating apple pie, and running the gauntlet of emotions, we climbed back into Mason’s truck. He looked fried, and so was I.

We drove in silence back to his hotel. I wasn’t sure if he preferred to be alone or what. When we got out of his truck in the parking lot, I gave him the out. “If you want to be alone, I understand. I’ll take an Uber to my hotel.”

“You got a room?”

“I haven’t yet, but there are a few to choose from by the airport. My flight back is tomorrow afternoon.” Since I hadn’t been sure what to expect, I’d decided to play the hotel situation by ear.

He heaved my bag out of the back of his truck and took my hand. He didn’t say anything as he led me through the lobby and to his first-floor room. Once we were inside, he put his arms around me.

“Please stay with me.”

How or why would I possibly say no? “Okay. I will. Do you want some water?” I asked, pulling back. “I’m going to grab some from the vending machine I saw in the lobby.”

“I can do it.”

He was absolutely dead on his feet. Even if that hadn’t been true, I needed a minute. “No. No. Just give me your key. I’ll be right back.” I grabbed my purse, intending to get change from the front desk.

He immediately looked relieved. “Okay. I’m going to take a shower.”

I took a deep breath once I was in the hallway. There, I gave myself a little self-talk to ensure I wasn’t setting myself up to get hurt. The bottom line was nothing had changed. Yes, he’d needed me and I was here for him as a friend. Come tomorrow, I had no doubt we’d be parting ways once again. We’d have tonight, and I’d go into it with absolutely no regrets.

When I returned to the room with two bottles of water, I could hear the sound of the shower. I slipped off my shoes and took out my cell phone charger to plug it in, but froze when I heard what sounded like a muffled sob. Thinking I might have been mistaken, I listened until I heard it again.

Once I was certain, I didn’t hesitate. I opened the bathroom door, letting the steam swirl around me. Hoping I wasn’t wrong in trying to comfort Mason, I stripped down to my underwear. When I pulled back the shower curtain, my heart broke in two.

He was sitting down with his knees hugged up to his chest and his face hidden in his arms.

I stepped inside of the tub, letting the scalding hot water assault my back while I sat down inches from him. I scooted so that I was straddling his shins, touching him. I waited.

He finally lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes and anguished features telling me of the pain he’d relived today. My heart ripped for the loss of his friend and many others in a war he seemed to continue battling even when home.

He ducked his head into his knees, sobs wracking his body. I reached for him, moving closer, and rubbing his back murmuring soft words of support.

After a while, his breathing returned to normal, and he spoke in a low tone. “It should’ve been me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because nobody would’ve missed me.”

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