Page 57 of Off the Clock
“That sucks. Poor kid.” Done with my counter-scrubbing mission, I patted her on her slim shoulder. “And I saw that happen too many times to count in the military. Some relationships can’t survive hardship.”
“And some can.” Her voice came out extra strident like she needed that to be a fact.
“Yep,” I agreed. Before this summer, I would have said very few relationships could last under the best circumstances, let alone medical hardship. But now, I was less sure about that stance. Eric and Montgomery had lasted right up until the end. Angel and her husband were the picture of happiness these days, but they’d been through their share of rough patches. And then there was Caleb.
Caleb, who made me believe some relationships could work out. Long-term wasn’t terrifying anymore. What was truly scary was the idea of never getting a chance. And unlike some fickle college kids, I couldn’t see either of us bolting in the face of a health crisis. In fact, when Scotty had been injured, I’d wanted to be with Caleb more, not less.
Maren gave a lengthy sigh that broke through my ruminating. “Anyway, I’ve been spending a lot of time at the rehab facility trying to cheer up Diesel, but I’ll worry about him when I go back to college.”
“Ah.” I made a noise like I understood, but we were wandering into murky territory where I wasn’t sure what advice to give. If I suggested that perhaps there was more than friendship at stake, Maren was likely to shut me down. I’d met her a few times when I’d visited on leave, and she was very much the type to keep her cards close to the vest. Never dated in high school, and if there was a college relationship, I hadn’t heard of it. The few times the other kids had teased her, she’d scoffed at the very idea of a crush.
Not unlike me. Funny how one could deny a thing right up until it smacked a body square in the face. And then, those feelings you’d always assumed were make-believe seemed like the most real thing in the world.
“Would it help if more people volunteered to visit Diesel?” I asked for lack of any other ideas.
“Maybe.” Maren shrugged. “It’s not simply that though. I told Dad I wasn’t sure I wanted to return to college for the fall term, and he gave me the whole don’t jeopardize your scholarship and future lecture. But you’d think I’d be all energized for my pre-med classes after seeing Diesel injured and you guys do the rescue?—”
“You helped,” I reminded her as I polished the stainless fridge for the second time. I had a feeling that if we stopped cleaning, Maren might stop talking.
“Not really.” She wrinkled her petite nose. “That’s the thing. Between that and visiting Diesel in the hospital, being a doctor doesn’t feel…exciting. No, that’s not the right word. But it feels weird, like maybe I don’t want to be pre-med anymore.”
“Then don’t be.” Having had my own issues after the rescue, I found it far easier to give advice than to take it. But Maren was at the age when everyone went through varied options. Changing directions felt far different at forty-two. “Isn’t college supposed to be about switching majors? Finding yourself?”
“Maybe for other kids.” Her gaze turned far away. “I promised Doctor Dad before he died that I’d be a doctor like him.”
“Oh.” The breath whistled out of me. “I met your dad more than a few times. He wasn’t the type to hold any of you kids to something like that. He always said his greatest wish was simply for you four to be happy. I’m sure he’d understand if you chose another direction.”
“I’m not sure I will.” Her soft hazel eyes teared up, but before I could try to comfort her, she waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry. You don’t need my drama.”
“It’s not drama.” I patted her on the shoulder before she stepped away to straighten canisters on the counter. I followed her across the room but hung back to give her more space. “Youhave to be true to who you are now. You’re not the same kid you were in high school.”
Not the same person.I’d danced around that thought for days now. I’d tried to articulate my thoughts to Caleb, but I hadn’t understood it this clearly. I’d been one person in high school, another in the Rangers, and now, despite my belief that change was more for people Maren’s age, I wasn’t the same guy I’d been a year ago. I wasn’t the stoic sergeant, and the plans I’d made over my last few years in the military made less sense now. Also, my old beliefs around relationships belonged to that previous self.
Maren strode over to the back staircase. “Thanks for the talk, Tony. When I find out who I am, I’ll let us both know.”
She gave me a half-crooked smile before disappearing upstairs. I wasn’t sure I’d helped her at all, which left me feeling vaguely unsettled, a restlessness in my limbs. Cleaning done, I put my excess energy into watering the plants in Eric’s yard.
I didn’t know the difference between a dahlia and a marigold, but the work was monotonous yet satisfying. Enough that when Scotty came ambling out the back door, I was relaxed enough to give him an easy wave.
“Heading home?” I asked, intentionally not fishing for details about where Caleb might be.
“Yeah.” Scotty scrubbed at his short hair. His pale skin was blotchier than usual and his mouth was a tight line. “Might as well.”
Lord save me from a second round of teenage angst during an evening when my empathy skills were already in short supply. However, I couldn’t let him walk away any more than I had Maren.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine. Great. A-okay.” Scotty gave me the fakest smile in the entire world
“I’m not convinced,” I said dryly.
He made a rude noise. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Iwasa teenager once.” That had sounded enough like Angel’s mom voice that I had to laugh at myself. “And okay, that sounded super cheesy, but try me.”
“You ever do something stupid?” Scotty spat the words.
“Of course.” Rather than teenage mistakes, though, my mind went instantly to Caleb. The stupidest, best thing I ever did was kiss him. And every stupid, reckless action since then had led to the best summer of my life. Couldn’t say I regretted any of that, which probably wasn’t what Scotty needed to hear. Instead, I made my voice carefully curious. “What kind of stupid?”