Page 56 of Warrior's Walk
She places a glass of tea before me and retrieves the biscuits from the oven. “My God, they smell delicious.”
“Come and wash up at the sink while I make your plate,” she instructs me.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I have to say, I’m a bit nervous about this trip. I haven’t traveled this far in years.”
“You mentioned you weren’t feeling well. Are you sure you’re up for this trip?”
We take our seats at the table and she serves two steaming plates of dumplings. The fragrant steam wafting in my face makes my stomach growl with hunger.
“Whether I am or not won’t stop me from going to see my son. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you came for me. It broke my heart not to be able to see him as soon as he came home, just thinking of him lying in that hospital, hurtin’ so bad and all alone.”
“He wasn’t completely alone.”
Retta squeezes my hand. “You’re a special man, Navarro Riggs. You’ll always have a place at my table.”
I have to swallow past the lump forming in my throat. The sudden rush of emotion is unexpected. My mother doesn’t inspire the same warmth and generosity as Loretta Marsh, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt so welcome at someone’s table.
She’s wrong about me. I’mnotspecial, but sheis.
I see where Rhett gets it from.
“I remember the day he told me he was joinin’ the Army to jump out of planes. We were sittin’ at this table. I nearly choked on my fried chicken.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I bet that was a shock for you. Why would anyone want to jump out of a perfectly good plane?”
“It wasn’t that so much as him volunteerin’ to move thousands of miles away from me. He never talked about college, so I just assumed he would stay right here after he graduated. I didn’t know he was itchin’ to go off and see the world.”
“I think he feels lost, struggling to figure out where he belongs and what comes next.”
Retta picks up her fork, loaded with crawfish and a dumpling, and pauses halfway to her mouth. “We’ll help him find his place. We’ll help Rhett figure out where he belongs.”
He belongs with me.I shake my head, erasing the thought.
After dinner, which was decidedly one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, Retta directs me up the stairs. “You can bunk in Rhett’s room. We’ll leave first thing after breakfast in the mornin’.”
On the landing, I pause. A huge gilt-framed portrait catches my eye. I recognize Loretta, but the other man… “Is that Clark Gable?”
Retta’s laughter floats up the stairs. “Rhett had that painted for me for my fortieth birthday. Isn’t it somethin’?”
Oh, it’s something, all right.
At the top of the stairs, I turn left, and there’s no mistaking which door belongs to him. There’s a macaroni heart taped to it he must have made over twenty years ago. Above that is a handwritten sign that says ‘Rhett’s room: Trespassers will be made to do chores.’
I enter with a smile on my face that grows exponentially wider when I get a load of his bed. The sheets on the twin-sized mattress look decidedly familiar, and very similar to the ones I bought for him recently. Wooden shelves line the walls dotted with baseball and soccer trophies. ALouisville Sluggerleans against the headboard. Dozens of paratrooper posters are taped to the walls.
After washing up in the bathroom down the hall, I change into a pair of plaid sleep pants and climb under his covers. The old frame squeaks, but the mattress is soft enough that I won’t have any trouble falling asleep.
How many nights did he lie here wondering what he would be when he grew up?Unfortunately, he’s still trying to figure that out.
I can feel him here, like a dominating presence in the room, as if he crawled under the covers to lie beside me. I may be thousands of miles away from him tonight, but I’ve never felt so close to him. Except maybe that first night we met, when herefused to let go of my hand. When he cried with me and begged me not to leave him alone.
I bet he feels alone tonight, lying in his bed, wondering why everyone he loved left him.
I haven’t left you, Rhett. I’m coming home.
I fought in a war.