“The rest of what?”
“Your life,” he said. “But mainly I was referring to the fiancé.”
“Charlie?” Pru said, her heart beating fast.
She didn’t want to tell Win about Charlie. It felt like two different worlds, compounds that should never mix.
“Charlie.” Win took another gulp of beer. “Sure. Okay. Lay it on me. Tell me about ol’ Chuck.”
“There’s nothing to tell. He’s gone. We weren’t even engaged for that long. That’s all I have to say on the matter.”
“If you planned to marry the bloke, surely you have more to say.”
“Nope,” she said. “That’s pretty much it.”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“Not particularly.”
“I think he’s the reason behind your unceremonious university departure. You’ve made some vague references to a lack of funds and not knowing what you wanted to be when you grew up. But I think the leaving was about him. This fiancé is the lynchpin.”
“Former fiancé,” she said. “And ‘unceremonious departure’? My departure was supposed to be literally ceremonious. As in a wedding ceremony.”
“Precisely what I’d gathered,” he said. “Tell me more. I’m positively dying to know.”
“Dying?” Pru said. “Is that really the word you want to go with?”
“Yes. Your withholding of information is causing me a terminal level of pain.”
“You’ll regret that word choice, my friend.”
She took several glugs of beer.
“You were all torn up about my parents’ deaths?” Pru said. “Gutted, I believe, was the word. Well, hold on to your knickers because old Charlie has a pretty wretched tale himself. Long story short, the bastard up and died.”
Win’s eyes popped open.
“He died? This is not … are you trying to be funny? Attempting to take the piss out of me? Teach me a lesson?”
“You think I’d lie about someone dying just to mess with you?”
“No. Never. Aw, shit.” Win covered his face. “I’m sorry. No. Sorry is not adequate. Bloody hell.” He looked up. “Bloody fucking depths of hell. I hate myself with some regularity, but never like this.”
“You didn’t know. But I have to tell you. It gets worse.”
“AW CHRIST!”
“Remember that exchange we had approximately forever ago?” she said. “Soldiers blasting away the VC and whatnot?”
“MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST.” Win dug both hands into his hair and scratched his ragged fingertips into his scalp. “Don’t tell me. He was a soldier? Blimey, I should just off myself right now.”
“Win, you didn’t know,” she said again.
“Jesus H. Where is a goddamn revolver when you need one?”
“It’s okay,” Pru said. “I mean you’re okay. The rest, obviously, is not.”
The peculiar thing was that lately it had been starting to feel if not “okay” at least within firing distance of not-completely-unbearable. And Pru felt as awful about this as Win had for bringing it up in the first place.
“What happened?” Win asked. “He was fighting, yes? In the war?”
“Yep. Charlie was fighting the Charlie in Nam,” she said. “And don’t apologize for that smirk you’re trying to hide. It’s funny in its own twisted way. I’m sure there are plenty more Charlies on both sides to go around. The worst part, other than, you know, the death, is that he didn’t have to go. His parents got him an excuse, or bought him one.”
“How do you mean?” he asked.
“Charlie was diagnosed with a very serious football injury despite only ever playing baseball and tennis. A medical miracle.”
“But he went,” Win said, taking her hand in his. “Because he had honor.”
“He had something. I couldn’t have done it. I would’ve milked my phantom running back career for all it was worth.”
“I doubt that.”
“He was killed during the Easter Offensive,” Pru told him. Saying it felt like a release, an exhale after holding her breath. “They found his body, which I don’t think was much of one, outside Kon Tum. His entire company was killed by an RPG, a grenade launched at a closer-than-necessary distance.”
“Jesus. What a mess.”
“Literally,” she said with a weary nod. “It happened almost a year ago and his remains didn’t arrive stateside until late last fall. It took a while to sort out the parts.”
She slipped her hand from Win’s and reached for the beer, though not before gently skimming her fingers over his forearm. Pru meant it as thanks for his tenderness, an assurance that although he’d raised the issue, she didn’t hold it against him.