Page 7 of Embers in Our Souls
“I promise you, hearing anything about River’s personal life with Kennedy behind closed doors is never a desire of mine either,” I say, grabbing some water. “But, speaking of River, why don’t you ask him to join?”
“Absolutely not. Could you imagine him in book club? Then imagine him with Kennedy. I just got a visual and my head already hurts,” he says as we begin walking to the bench to start another round of exercises.
“Yeah, you make a fair point. Would Clay work?” I ask him.
“No, he’s not interested. I started hinting at it, but he’s not into these kinds of books. He tried reading one for fun with Abby a few months back, but he started calling it soft porn and she got fucking pissed at him. It didn’t end well.” He makes an uneasy face.
“I have no solution for you then. Sorry friend.” I smack him on the shoulder.
“Yes, you’re just being difficult. You could join and help me even things out a little bit,” he tells me.
“My evenings are booked.” I shrug.
“Every evening?” he asks me, unconvinced.
“Yes, every single evening,” I lie.
“You’re such a fuckface.” He laughs as he spots me. “And for your information, the books are good. That part wasn’t an exaggeration. It’s just the harassment is getting to be a bit much. I’m a sensitive soul, Hunter.”
“Mmhmm,” I grunt.
Once I’m done, I sit up and wipe my face. “I know, Malloy. I was just telling the guys, I caught you wiping a tear from your face when we were watching an ad with those puppies trying to get adopted.”
“Hey, they were cute. And I thought we were taking that to the grave.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “Chill, I’m kidding. I was getting choked up too. Seriously though, I’ll consider book club. But I’ll admit, Kennedy sort of scares me still. She’s a bit intimidating.”
Kennedy is the CEO of the Boston Gaels and she turns heads the minute she walks into any room. If anyone is going to handle River’s antics, it’s Kennedy Sparen. Her strong personality can handle anyone in a boardroom, but most importantly, she can put her fiancé in his place any time of the day.
“Kenny’s harmless. I promise, she’s a total softie.” He waves me off as we switch places.
“Really? So, you never felt like she was a bit terrifying?” I look down at him with a questioning expression.
“Well, yeah, of course I did. She’s a badass, but she grows on you. And I definitely don’t call her Kenny to her face… anymore.But she’s loyal and handles River better than anyone I’ve ever seen; better than Clay, which is pretty impressive. Also, don’t tell her I called her a softie. I don’t think she’ll consider that a compliment.”
He begins his set while I chuckle. “Malloy, you’re proving my point right now.” I honestly don’t know how I ended up with this interesting mix of friends, but in such a short amount of time, they’ve pulled me into their blended family, and I’ve never felt so seen.
“How are things going in Boston?” Jerry asks while sipping a mojito on the beach on our FaceTime call.
I was stationed with Jerry and Scarlet’s son George, who was soon dubbed Georgie, while in the Army. Georgie was four years my junior, and I took him under my wing when he was put in my unit.
Although I ranked higher than him, we formed a friendship the moment we met. Georgie had a quick wit about him and we bonded over our love of motorcycles. He told me about his closeness with his parents and I envied that, as I had grown up in a household that was the complete opposite. I could tell he truly loved spending time with Jerry and Scarlet, his calls with them sparked emotion from him that provoked a deep respect for them. It was something I envied amongst the three of them.
When I confided in Georgie about my upbringing, he invited me to his hometown to spend a long weekend with his family. I thought I’d feel like the oddball out, but the moment I crossed that threshold, his parents welcomed me as one of their own. I never felt more loved than I did amongst them. Jerry and Scarletembraced me with the kind of love a parent should from the beginning and I’ve allowed it to blanket me ever since.
Georgie’s kindhearted nature was what I think my dark personality needed and craved. I don’t think I ever longed for a sibling before, but around him, he felt like someone I could confide in. He was a brother I never thought I needed, yet I was gifted with nonetheless. Whenever we took time off-base for a weekend or could travel back to the States, we’d travel together to visit his parents. Sometimes we’d meet up with them somewhere to see them if they were traveling around Europe. I felt a connection to their family, and they never made me feel like I wasn’t part of the bond they had formed. Georgie was my brother for all intents and purposes.
While stationed overseas, we were on patrol one day when our squad came under fire. The chaos was loud and uncontrollable in that moment. Georgie was shot and killed in front of me. I had moved from where I was standing for just a second, leaving him in my spot. He took the bullet that was intended for me, and that’s something I will have to live with for the rest of my life. I never thought we would leave the compound as a unit and return missing one of our own. The aftermath of that day impacts me in ways that I spent a long time denying. That single bullet catapulted my life in a whole new trajectory.
Nothing ever felt the same after that. My world crumbled from that moment on. It took years for me to see the world with the same light, but I suffered for a long time; the survivor’s guilt nearly crippling me.
Looking at Jerry, it’s like life is giving me the gift of seeing what his son would have looked like years down the road. They are carbon copies, although, a light dimmed in Jerry the moment Georgie died. But with the sun shining on his skin and Scarlet by his side, I can see the travel has lifted their spirits a little.
“It’s finally warming up. I’ve been able to get the bike out again,” I say. “It’s nothing like that view you’ve got though.” Jerry knows I had to sell my motorcycle before going overseas years ago, and I crave the way I feel free, letting go when I take off for a few hours on a bike ride.
The motorcycle sitting in the garage was Jerry’s until recently. I take it out throughout the warmer months, but it’s too dangerous to ride when Boston’s cold weather greets us come fall. He gifted me the bike when I moved out here, something he once dreamed of doing for Georgie. I can still remember the tears pooling in his eyes the day he handed over his prized possession, proclaiming how thankful he was that his son found a friend like me.
He turns his head toward the ocean behind him and smiles brightly, lifting his glass. “Well, I would have to agree with that, son.”
