Page 32 of Shadow Target

“No argument there. Has three years really changed us that much? Or maybe we’ve grown up a lot more than we realized over that time frame?” she wondered out loud, pulling out a bag from her knapsack containing more sweet pickles.

“I know the time has shown me a lot. Maybe I needed three years to dissect what I’d done wrong to cause you to leave me, Willow. I’m slow in some respects,” and he gave her a sad look.

“Well, I was a jet jockey going Mach three with my hair on fire and you were driving around a D-9 Caterpillar bulldozer that went five miles an hour. We weren’t the same speed and never will be.” She sighed, her voice lowering as she held his gaze. “Emotionally speaking, you barricaded yourself against me, but now, I understand a little more, why, Shep.” She gave him tender look. “You took a mortal emotional blow when your father left and divorced your mom.”

“I’m not into psychology 101 like you are, Willow. I’m a nuts-and-bolts kind of guy. I see black and white. All you see is the gray. I’ve been taught to look at something, find out what’s wrong with it and then fix it.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Exactly. But every man I’ve ever met wants to FIX what’s wrong. If I cry, you want to fix it. If something doesn’t go my way, you want to fix it.” Frustration laced her growl. “I wish men would stop trying to FIX things for us women and damned well fix themselves—first. That attitude of fixing drove me nuts. If I cried, I needed to cry. It feels GOOD to cry, and I know I’d told you that many times before. Crying, for me, is a RELEASE. I feel better offloading how I feel through my tears. But men never got that memo. The Patriarchy that runs this world, pure male and mostly WHITE, sent a socialized message from the time you were born until you die, that men don’t “feel” and they don’t “cry”. They have to be the tough, strong and silent types. You know what I say to that?! A big, fat ‘Phooey.’”

Wincing, Shep looked away and nodded. “Yeah, I got that memo since we broke up.” His brows fell, his voice roughened, and he said, “When you left, I cried. Many times. Does that count?” and he gave her a wary look, unsure of how she would react.

“Yes, knowing that means a lot to me, Shep, that you can admit you can let down, let out your emotions. I hadn’t seen much evidence of your fix-it mode with me shutting down until just now, but honestly, we rarely see one another even now as it is. This construction job is on a tight timeline. I fall into bed every night, exhausted.”

“I wish Delos could spare two more pilots to give you and Dev some rest.” He sighed and shook his head, his voice low, “I know my bad traits, Willow. And I’m trying my damnedest to fix myself, not you.”

She gave him a look of understanding and nodded. “Well, I’m sure at some future point, I will cry and then we’ll see how you handle it, big guy. Fair enough? The proof’s in the pudding and words are nothing compared to actions. Right?”

He offered the last of the chips to Willow, but she shook her head. He finished them off instead and, crunching them, said, “Right.”

Stretching his legs out, next to hers, hands behind his head and pressed in the leaves, he said, “It always bothered me when my mom would cry.”

This was new! Inwardly, Willow perked up, all ears. Was he opening up more to her? She could barely believe that he was capable of doing so. “And I’m sure your dad tried to fix it?” she asked.

“Yes. But when you’re a small kid and your mother is crying? It does something to you, Willow. At least, it did me.”

“Well, on that one, we’re all built the same. If our mother cries, no matter what our age, we’re deeply affected by it and we should be. But when you entered our relationship, your rules have had to apply. Every time I cried, and it was usually because of a mission I’d just flown, you wanted to fix it. All I wanted from you…. all I really needed, Shep, was for you to hold me, rock me and let me sob my brains out in your arms. I just needed you to be a safe harbor for me. And you always asked me why I was crying instead of just hauling me into your arms and giving me that protective, warm place with you. There’re times for logic, but there’s also time for emotional reactions and needs, instead.”

“I had my therapist friend clue me in on that one, too,” he admitted. “I understand now. As a boy, you’re taught NOT to cry. And no one taught me how to deal with someone who did cry. Men are supposed to suck it up, swallow whatever they felt and bury their feelings, forever.”

Willow knew she was out on the end of a fragile limb with him but asked a very important question. “Your dad didn’t want you crying, either?”

Shaking his head, he tucked the plastic bags back into her heavy pack. “No. I got the same brainwashing message that men and boys never cry. You just swallow it whole and pretend nothing is wrong.”

“I could see that if you’re in a combat situation, but any other? That’s not dealing with your feelings.”

“Combat makes every man cry.”

“Do you cry now?” she wondered, asking the question gently. His face softened for a moment, and he looked away. Willow could feel a barrage of sudden emotions swirling around in him. He turned and looked directly into her eyes.

“I cried when you left. I’ve never cried so much in my entire life as the first year you were gone. I couldn’t stop crying. I holed up in the barracks, in my officer’s quarters, and let it go. Then,” he said with a shrug, “there would be times, even months later, when I’d suddenly need to cry. Luckily, I could get off by myself, hide, and let go. At first, I couldn’t figure out why these sudden storms of tears would attack me. Later, I figured out it was the cycle of grief because I’d lost you, Willow.”

Wincing, she stared down at her hands clasped in her lap. “It was hard on both of us, Shep. I’m sorry I hurt you like that. That wasn’t my intention.”

“I know that now,” he offered quietly. He sat up, crossing his legs, looping his arms around his knees. Holding her sad gaze, he added, “I found out the hard way that crying isn’t that bad. Like you? After I cried? I felt better, not worse. So, I began to understand what you meant when you tried to train me up on simply letting you cry. I just wish that you’d told me you wanted to be held while you cried. My father never held my mother at times like that, either.”

“Yeah, like father, like son. That’s so sad,” Willow murmured. “It’s a relief valve and we need it very badly living on this planet.”

Shep kept his head down, replying, “Lesson learned the hard way, believe me. I was also afraid if anyone saw me crying? That they’d out me, mercilessly tease me, or embarrass me.”

“Another man might do that to you, but a woman wouldn’t. Hell, she’d welcome you with open arms. Crying together is good for our hearts and souls. It’s healing for both parties.”

“It’s been a big learning curve for me, Willow and I don’t profess to know it all. I’m sure as we continue to work together, there’s going to be issues to work out from time to time.”

She was grateful for his can-do attitude about his own weaknesses he was trying to correct. “Look,” she said, “I’ve got my own issues to work on, too, Shep. It’s not just you are doing the hard work of changing and trying to be a better all-around human being. And if we both want this to change, we both have to come at it without ego and pride. I just couldn’t do this again and fail,” and her voice broke. Willow swallowed hard, avoiding his sharpened look. Forcing herself to hold his gaze, she saw incredible yearning in his eyes for her alone. It felt so good to be wanted with love, and she acknowledged that it was, indeed, that love still existed between them. “I WANT to work at this,” she whispered, swallowing hard, “and I’m scared as hell because I don’t know where it will go or how it will ultimately work out.”

He leaned forward, moving his hand down her lower pant leg, a caress. A silent commitment. “We want the same thing. This is a second chance for both of us. I have no idea what will happen, either. Maybe start by becoming good friends again?”

Her skin tingled as his hand left her leg. “Everything’s moving too for me, Shep. Aren’t you scared? I know I am.”

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