Nolan
Sitting down to dinner in that old familiar dining room was surreal. Almost like those dreams where I was back in high school or boot camp or something, but I was thirty-year-old me instead of teenage me.
Mom was still using the same green and white Corelle plates from my childhood. She’d long ago switched out the old glasses, probably because my brothers and I had broken most of them, and replaced them with plastic cups. Apparently they were easier to manage when the grandkids—my eldest brother’s three kids—came over.
She’d cooked a casserole that I remembered from back in the day. Something with chicken, bacon, and enough cheese that I’d need to spend some time on the hotel’s treadmill tomorrow. It was a dish I’d enjoyed back then, and it was still good now, even as the nostalgia made me ache for the more innocent years of my life. A lot of things had happened since the last time I’d eaten this particular casserole. A couple of trips into a warzone. Some bad breakups. Everything that had driven me to enlist instead of accepting that scholarship to a nearby university. It felt a little like I was tasting and remembering someone else’s memories; itall seemed so distant, it may as well have been a life a stranger had lived.
Someone nudged my foot under the table. I looked up from my plate to see Riley staring back at me with concern in his eyes.
I flashed him a quick smile, hoping that conveyed,“I’m good.”
He didn’t seem to buy it, but he didn’t push. Probably because there was no way to do it tactfully when we were sitting between my parents.
Fortunately, my parents didn’t notice my distraction, and they seemed determined to talk Riley’s ear off tonight. That was fine with me; this was the first time I’d brought home a boyfriend—well, “boyfriend”—and the more they fawned all over him, the less anyone paid attention to me. Perfect.
Well, mostly.
“Has he told you about his wrestling days?” My dad beamed. “He was state champion two years in a row. Undefeated for two and a half seasons!”
“Yeah,” Riley said with a pleasant smile. “He’s mentioned that.”
“They even talked about him in the newspaper a few times,” Mom said brightly. “You were Athlete of the Week, what, three times?”
“Four,” I admitted, dropping my gaze to my food.
Riley whistled. “That’s impressive.”
I half-shrugged. “Slow news days.”
“Oh. Nolan.” Mom gave my arm a playful smack. “They were not slow news days.”
I didn’t respond. Riley gave me a concerned look, and I just shook my head.
“I still can’t believe the Marines took him after what he did to his back,” Mom said. “Everyone I knew said they’d never let him enlist if he’d hurt himself bad enough he had to stop wrestling.”
My spine prickled uncomfortably, and my stomach roiled, daring me to eat another bite. “It was just some muscle strain,” I said, almost whispering. “It was healed by the time I was getting my physical for the Marine Corps.”
“Damn shame, though.” Dad shook his head. “Could’ve been state champion a third year in a row.”
I worked my jaw, wishing I could tell them to just drop this already. “It happens. Cousin Vince shattered his knee his first year playing college football.” I shrugged tightly. “Athletes always know it’s a risk.”
That, thank God, did the trick. Mom and Dad started raving to Riley about how my cousin had been such a talented football player. He’d had a full ride to a top university and several pro teams watching him before he’d even graduated high school. There were rumors he might be drafted first overall, or at least in the top ten or twenty.
One catastrophic knee injury later, he was coaching football at the high school where he taught P.E.
In my case, an unfortunate back injury had derailed my pursuit of a third state championship in wrestling, but fortunately, it wasn’t severe enough to disqualify me from the military.
That was the official story, anyway. The only one I would ever tell. I hated listening to my parents rave about that part of my past and then talk so sadly about how things had come to an abrupt and unfortunate end. These conversations made my skin crawl.
Better than them knowing the alternative.
My parents told Riley some stories from my youth, which gave me a chance to mostly tune out the conversation and try to find my equilibrium. I loved my parents and got along with them, but the upcoming wedding festivities meant spending time with the rest of the family. At least Riley hadn’t tried to prythe story out of me about who I didn’t want to see and exactly why. Maybe he just knew me well enough to know that if I didn’t volunteer something, odds were, it wasn’t coming out.
I’d stick close to him at everything, though. As long as I wasn’t alone and didn’t let anyonegetme alone, I’d be okay. I’d be safe. Hopefully he wouldn’t think I was a clingy idiot. Or if he did, he’d wait until everything was over to shove me away.
I stole a glance at him while he listened to my dad tell him about something I’d done in Cub Scouts.
You have no idea how much I need you for this, Riley.