Page 20 of Strangers in Love

Mom put her hand on his forearm and squeezed. They weren’t really a touchy-feely couple, but the looks they gave each other made me sometimes wish a relationship like that was in my future. Not enough to change my mind, though.

Losing my mom young had made me cynical before I’d joined the army, but the first time I’d lost a member of my squad who’d had a family – wife and two kids – that had been when I’d decided I’d never put someone in the position of being hurt like that. What I did was too dangerous.

“I’m glad you like it.” Aspen smiled.

“Tell us about the places you went,” Mom prompted. “Did you make it through the list I sent you?”

“I didn’t have that much free time, Mom,” Aspen said. “I was there for work.”

“I know, but surely you took a couple days to do some site-seeing. I mean, you can’t be in Paris and not go to the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre.”

“I was working at the Louvre,” Aspen reminded her. “I saw the behind the scenes things that tourists don’t get to see.”

“But that’s still work,” Mom pressed. “Didn’t you want to enjoy the art independent of the business side of things?”

“One of the curators there took me on a private tour after hours,” Aspen replied. “That was nice. Being able to absorb everything without people around.”

“What about the Eiffel Tower?” Mom asked. “I remember when Patrick and I went. The view was absolutely breath-taking.”

“I saw it, but I didn’t get too close. Way too many people.” Aspen glanced at me. “Remind me of some of the other places you went, and I’ll tell you if I went or not.”

That look said something I hadn’t realized. Aspen was purposefully trying to control the conversation, taking attention away from me. Without me saying a word, she’d realized how much pressure I’d been under from our parents when it came to talking about what’d happened to me. Well, mostly Mom, but she was a force to be reckoned with by herself. She’d meant well, so I’d been polite, tried the best I could to answer her, but it was nice to have a meal without having to constantly be on edge, wondering what question would come next, how I’d answer it.

Aspen was more aware of her surroundings than I’d realized. I’d have to make a point of thanking her later. And I knew just the way to do it.

After dinner, Da and Mom went to the den for their nightly game show marathon. I remembered having a conversation with Leo once about how pointless the game show network was, because no one would want to watch that many game shows. A month later, he’d laughed when I’d told him that my parents had become addicted to that particular channel.

As Aspen and I cleared the table and then did the dishes, I found that it wasn’t awkward being quiet with her. I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, to assure her that I was okay or make small talk so she’d think I was okay. A tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding eased. I loved my family, but it was sometimes hard to know how they’d react to certain situations.

As I dried the last pot, I broke the silence. “Brody gave me his newest whisky to try, and I figured I’d have a drink in the library. Want to join me?”

“That sounds great.” Aspen flashed a bright smile as she rinsed out the sink. “Paris has some great wine, but not whisky.”

“We’ve been spoiled. Da’s always had good scotch and whisky around, and then after Brody started making his…” I let the thought trail off.

She wiped down the counter. “I don’t like it quite as much as some of our siblings, but every once in a while, there’s something nice about relaxing with a glass.”

I agreed and went to get the bottle, surprising myself at how glad I was that Aspen was going to sit with me. Maybe I was starting to find that part of myself again too, the part that liked being around people. Maybe this was that healing that the army shrinks had told me would eventually come if I let it.

I wasn’t going to think on it too hard, though. I had my plans, and everything else would come or not. If the last eight months had taught me anything, it was that I couldn’t control everything. Or anything, most of the time.

Sixteen

Aline

I was running late,and if I didn’t make up the time, I would never hear the end of it from Freedom. And it wasn’t even my fault.

Freedom had sent me a text thirty minutes ago saying that she’d gotten discharged from the hospital and was on her way to the airport. Then she’d asked if I’d needed her to do anything. Sure that I had everything under control, I’d told her not to worry about it. I’d taken care of it all.

Except I’d made the mistake of calling Mom and Dad instead of texting to let them know that Freedom and I would be on our flight soon. They’d known about Freedom being in the hospital, and I’d been surprised that they hadn’t flown over here as soon as I’d gotten off the phone with them that day. They’d also surprised me by not constantly calling me to check on us. Until I’d called them this morning, I’d thought it was because they’d trusted me to take care of things on my own.

Now I knew that it was because Freedom had been calling Miss Little every morning and evening, asking her how I was doing. If Freedom had just been asking about how things had been going without me having had a translator all week, I would’ve understood it and been fine with it. I’d have done the same thing in Freedom’s position.

Except that hadn’t been the case. Freedom had asked Miss Little to check on things like my eating habits and if I was getting enough sleep. And then, after Freedom got off the phone with Miss Little, she’d call our parents and fill them in on the details.

In my parents’ defense, Freedom hadn’t told them that I didn’t know about the calls, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had trusted me to take care of myself, to take care of the projectI’dselected, the oneI’dwanted to do.

The realization had shocked me enough that I’d lost my momentum. Mom had kept talking, and I hadn’t interrupted her to tell her that I needed to go. Not soon enough, anyway. By the time I’d remembered to check the time, I’d been ten minutes behind schedule and completely flustered.

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