Xander was quiet on the drive down the mountain, simmering in what Sam took to be embarrassment. She understood completely. She’d been overwhelmed by the breakfast conversation and energy, for sure. His family was amazing, warm and open and too frank for their own good. Sam was more used to the way people treated her after the flood, how they were so reticent to meddle in her affairs, how they didn’t ever suggest she do something so crass as moving on, or even ask how she was feeling about the situation. That was just the Southern way; while she knew everyone was discussing her situation, they’d never be so uppity as to do it to her face.
Sunshine’s and Roth’s personalities precluded them from that kind of approach. They were open people who didn’t have much to hide and felt others shouldn’t, as well. It was refreshing, in its own way.
She’d lost a part of her in the floods, more than just a husband and children, but the dream of her life, her future, her place in the world. She’d spent years planning out her life, knowing where each step would be placed, like ancient stones across a river. And then that river had risen up and swept the stones away, leaving her alone on the bank, watching for the stones to reappear, not knowing how to reach the other side without them, or even whether she wanted to try.
Fate had different ideas for her. It had steered her away from the prophetic river, brought her to D.C., to the home of another she’d loved and lost, and then to his friend and fellow soldier Xander. She didn’t know why they’d been brought together, and it was still so early in their relationship that she rarely questioned it, was just enjoying not being sad all the time. But the word marriage held some significant connotations for her.
He was getting serious about her.
She loved Xander, of that she was sure. He was a good man, a decent man, even with his demons. She had demons, too, she could hardly begrudge him his. But marriage...she didn’t know if she could ever commit like that again.
But there were more important things going on right now, lives to be saved.
The rest would just have to wait.
He finally broke the awkward silence.
“You have to forgive my mother. She thinks she knows me better than I do sometimes.”
Safe territory was needed. Neutral ground. “That’s what parents are for. Why don’t you call them Mom and Dad?”
“Oh, that. I know it must seem strange. Part of our childhood equality lessons. If we called them Mom and Dad, that gave them power over our actions and emotions. An open command structure that flowed from adult to child. Instead, we all used our first names and we all worked together to get things done instead of them relaying orders, as they saw it, for us to do chores, our homework, to be pushed to read, to play the piano, or violin. Everyone had—has—equal footing in the family. It was designed to help us self-motivate, and it worked. Both Yellow and I excelled at most anything we tried, and there were no limits set that said we couldn’t try something because we weren’t old enough, or mature enough, or it wasn’t time to get out the finger paints, or we might spoil our supper.
“It seemed totally normal to me until I got out of the house and saw how other kids lived, with all these rules and regulations and limitations. I remember when Will Crawford got grounded for not cleaning his room. He had to explain what grounding was to me. It all seemed very unfair.”
“And yet you end up in the military, with possibly the most stringent command structure in the world. Why?”
“It wasn’t because I wanted more structure, that’s for sure. What was it Fletcher said to you that time? Don’t let the romantic warrior full of valor get in the way of your emotions?”
“My common sense, I think he was intimating. But yes, that was the quote.”
“Well, when I was a kid I read The Red Badge of Courage, and everything Hemingway wrote. There was something romantic about the idea of courage, of standing shoulder to shoulder with your brothers in arms, of being willing to lay down your life for that which you believed in, and procuring freedom for the masses. My parents swung between anarchy and apathy depending on their moods, and of course encouraged us to make our own decisions, never imagining that either Yellow or I would ever arrive at a different conclusion. It about killed Roth when I said I wanted to enlist. That was not the life he imagined for me.”
“Yet you’ve put your differences aside. You seem to have a solid relationship now.”
“Part of encouraging autonomy means accepting the choices your offspring make. He didn’t do what his father wanted either, so he couldn’t get too fired up at me for choosing my own path.”
“What about your grandfather? Do you know him?”
“Only through news reports. He cut Roth off the minute he and Sunshine said ‘I do’ under the willow tree in their backyard.”
“Have you ever been tempted to look him up?”
“No. Here we are.” He had pulled up on the main street in downtown Dillon in front of the Arapahoe Cafe, stunningly backed by the shimmering blue lake. The scent of pine smoke permeated the truck, and despite her recent breakfast, her stomach growled in response.
“That smells amazing.”
Xander smiled. “Don’t you dare tell my parents, but this place has the best cheeseburgers I’ve ever eaten.”
“Naughty boy. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Good. Sunshine would never forgive me. Do you want the internet first, or the Chief?”