Page 17 of Knot Yours

I know the feeling, kid.

“All right, Superman. It’s dinnertime,” Marisol declares.

I eagerly follow her lead as she steps inside her unit. We sit in her kitchen, sipping Modelo while eating the saucy chicken enchiladas. “Tell me about the Army,” Marisol says between bites.

“I joined up after high school because I didn’t know what else to do with my life. Pretty soon, I knew I wanted to be a lifer. I was intrigued by the challenge of the Rangers and worked my ass off to become one. After a few deployments, I went to officer school and then worked up to lieutenant colonel. I left field work to train future Rangers.”

The yelling from that last day on the mountain invades my head, but I shove the memories away. “I eventually retired from the service and joined the Knot Corporation. I’ve been there ever since.”

Marisol takes in the story with sort of an awed silence, only speaking once I’ve finished and taken another swig of beer. “So, you’ve always been a soldier?”

“Pretty much.”

“What other interesting things are there to know about you? Besides being an accomplished landscaper and plumber?”

“I like to build furniture, and working with Piper takes up a good bit of time.”

While I’m glad Marisol doesn’t ask about family, I find it odd. And telling. “What about you? What kid dreams of being a pharmo…pharmaco… What is it again?”

Marisol laughs. “A pharmacological scientist. And no kid dreams of being one. I wanted to be a dancer. I was for a long time, but dreams change.”

Heartbreak dulls the musical quality of her voice, so I don’t press for her reasons. Instead, I stick to a safer topic. “What is Puerto Rico like?”

Those alluring eyes light up just before closing on a sigh. “The most beautiful place in the world. Like everywhere else, the island has its warts, but it’s always been home, and I’ve been away for a long time.”

Her wistful voice tells a story wrought with tragedy and pain, making the protector in me take notice. I want to wrap her in my arms and destroy whoever put that sadness in her eyes.

The unexpected violence thrumming in my veins scares the shit out of me. Stand down, Madden. Whatever happened to her is in the past. Let it go.

Captivated by Marisol’s exquisite face, I argue back, I can’t. I need an account for every tear she spilled so I can avenge her. I realize my fists are clenched, so I force a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. “What about your family? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

When Marisol’s face falls, I know I chose the wrong topic. “My brother died of a rare form of cancer when I was nineteen. My mother was… she’s dead.”

“And your father?” I ask, barely a whisper.

The mention of her father brings a slight tilt to her full lips. “My father still calls me his bebita, his baby girl. I suppose he always will. He’s a real estate broker. I love him very much, but…”

“But?”

Marisol shakes her head, pasting on a practiced smile. “What about you? Tell me about your family.”

Besides Amber, my story is a lot less tragic. “My parents have been together since elementary school. They live in Montana, in the same house I was born in. I have one brother. He lives near them on a cattle ranch.”

Marisol’s eyes light up. “Like a real Wild West cowboy?”

“Yes, but with a lot of sophisticated equipment to go along with it.”

The romance of the John Wayne and Clint Eastwood era fade from her face, and she becomes pensive. “What about you? Married? Any children?”

The question doesn’t hurt like I’d expect. I’m still reluctant to answer, but I want Marisol to know me, to be comfortable enough to tell me about her complicated past. “Almost.”

Marisol purses her lips in confusion. After a long sigh, I explain about Amber. She reaches for my hand, squeezing it between hers when I finish. “Oh my god. How awful.”

Face to the floor, I say, “Yeah. That’s pretty much how I felt at the time. We’ve been divorced for ten years now.”

Lifting my eyes again, I tell her, “I haven’t dated anyone since then, either.”

She nods solemnly. “A betrayal such as that would make you wary to trust. I understand.”

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