Starting Over

Chapter 3

Chapter 3Janet stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. In four hours, she'd be in Portland to pick Nate up and bring him home. Since she'd found out her son was up for a Distinguished Service Cross Medal for extraordinary heroism, there'd hardly been a moment's rest. The local press was calling non-stop. There was even talk of a parade and a meeting with the governor. Everyone was getting into the act. She hastily dried herself off, pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans, then headed to the kitchen where she heard Megan taking out plates and silverware. The smell of fresh brewed coffee and a broccoli-cheddar quiche wafted in the air. James Taylor's 'Fire and Rain' murmured from the CD player.

As she walked into the sunlit breakfast nook, Megan dragged a slice of quiche onto her plate. “Morning!”

“That for me?” Janet said, nodding at the entree while heading for the coffee pot.

“Not really,” Megan said with a crooked smile, “but sure, you can have it.”

Janet poured herself a cup. “Thanks, you ready to go?”

“Other than throwing on my face and a pair of boots, yeah.”

When it came to putting on make-up, nothing was quick with Megan, especially since they were going to be the center of attention with the media. “You're sure you have a ride back from Kyle's? After we drop you off, Nate and I are coming straight back.”

“Positive,” Megan said. “You know, I wish my son would move the wedding down here. It'd be so much easier.”

And keep it on your turf, Janet mused. She knew how uncomfortable it was going to be for Megan with her ex around. But Kyle's fiancé's family lived in South Burlingame, and so did a lot of Kyle's friends. And then there were nieces and nephews who were close to Kyle. “Have they booked a place for their reception yet?”

“Not yet. I keep telling him August is on the way. But you know kids… Speaking of which, I wonder how Nate's gonna like being 'man of the hour'. You know how he is. 'Mr. Avoidance'.”

“I'm sure he'll do fine,” Janet said, not believing it for a moment.

Megan rolled her eyes. “Yeaaah, right. We'll see how that goes.” She paused. “And Trevor? I take it he's driving up separately?”

Janet ignored Megan's sarcasm. “Yes, he and Nadia are meeting us at the airport. After we have lunch, they're going to the mountains for the weekend.”

Megan's face tightened then relaxed. “You really think we're gonna be able to have a private lunch with all the hoopla?”

“I'm hoping,” Janet said. She sipped her coffee and sat down. “Surely, they'll be sympathetic to us wanting our privacy.”

“Good luck with that,” Megan said. “Anyways, it'll be great seeing Nate. Your heart must be doing cartwheels right now.”

“You have no idea,” Janet said, digging into her breakfast. The truth was, her heart was doing anything but cartwheels. Instead, she was battling an ominous feeling things weren't as good as Nate would have her believe. She knew her son well. Like his father, he downplayed everything. But downplaying a medal? Even that was a stretch for him. “I'm glad he's out of that damned war. It's taken too much from him.”

“I know what you mean,” Megan agreed. “But he's coming back with his head held high!” She nibbled a piece of toast and sat back. “You know, he acted weird when I asked him about Tracy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Janet said. She liked Nate's fiancé. She was good for her son.

“What'd'ya think's going on?” Megan said.

Janet set her fork down. Sipped her coffee. “Don't know, and I wouldn't pester him about it, okay?”

Megan c****d her brow. “Excuse me.”

“Sorry. I guess I'm a bit uptight.” She sighed, forced a smile and eyed Megan's pale green denim blouse. “So, new shirt?”

“Yep. Forty bucks at Abercrombie and Fitch. On sale.”

“I like it. Brings out the red in your hair. Looks great with my jeans, too.”

Megan laughed. “All mine are in the wash right now. Hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” Janet said. She sliced into her quiche. After taking a bite, she added, “You ever call Logan's? My camera's in there for repair and I need it back if I decide to take the Merced River gig.”

“It's done. You can pick it up tomorrow. So, you're still thinking on going?”

“Depends,” Janet said. “Nate comes first.”

Megan took a sip of coffee. “The invitations for the Alzheimer's Gala are in. I set the box on your desk.”

“Great. You check quantities and dates?” Janet said.

“Three hundred…January 10th, right?”

“Yep, good…We need to set up a meeting with the board for decorations and food. Can you make some phone calls?”

“Sure,” Megan said. She bit into her piece of toast and put her finger up. “Oh, I meant to tell you, Don called yesterday.”

Janet set her fork down. Pain in my ass publisher! “He can wait. I've got a wounded son coming home.” She took a couple more bites of her breakfast. “And my galley, did you go over it?”

Megan downed the last bite of her quiche, picked up her plate and took it to the sink. “It's all good.” Over her shoulder, she added, “By the way, there's an invitation on the counter from the guild. Apparently, they want you at some trade show as a guest speaker regarding your books.”

“I'll look it over later,” Janet said, knowing Megan had probably been chatting with Don. Her stepdaughter probably thought she was helping by mentioning the guild to Don, but it was the last thing she needed.

The ride north to Portland dragged despite Megan's prattling on about Ben. And if it wasn't Ben she was talking about, it was Kyle's wedding. But Janet's mind was on Nate. She pulled into the terminal parking garage and parked. Turning the engine off, she pulled the key out of the ignition with trembling hands.

She took a deep breath, and turned to her stepdaughter. “I'm scared, Meg. What if–“

Megan clasped her fingers around Janet's hand and squeezed. “He's gonna be okay, Jan, don't worry.”

Janet sat back, wiped her eyes and tried to steady her nerves. “I've waited so long for him to come home, but I never wanted it this way.”

“I know. But the important thing is, he's back.”

“Yes,” Janet said, wanting to believe it. “I just wish I knew what to expect. He was so cryptic about his injury. What if he…”

Megan held Janet with a defiant gaze. “Stop! I refuse to believe the worst. And you need to as well. Now come on, let's go get him.”

Janet looked at her stepdaughter, loving her more than she thought possible. For over thirty years they'd been tied together. They were best friends before Megan's father came and changed everything. Falling in love with Megan's father had happened so gradually she hadn't seen it coming. By the time it finally hit her, it was too late to turn back. Suddenly, the tight bond between her and Megan unraveled and for the next twenty-seven years they circled each other like a pair of Tom Cats. In the end though, they built a bridge back to each other and laid a new foundation of trust, putting the past hurts behind them. If for no other reason, Janet trusted Megan to keep her pointed in the right direction. Nobody knew her better than Megan.

Finally, she said, “Yes, you're right. Let's go get him!”

Janet swept through the front doors of the terminal and panned the expansive Travelport Hall for the incoming arrival's screen. It was shortly after twelve noon and the lines at the ticketing counters were short. She tapped Megan on the arm and pointed to an electronic bulletin board to their left and headed toward it.

“Nate's flight's due to land in ten minutes,” she said then turned and hoofed it to the escalators leading to the security checkpoint. With every step, her heart raced and her hands dampened. Normally, she would've looked up at the barrel-vaulted skylight and space frame steel rods – a habit she'd picked up from twenty-five years with her architect husband – but not today. She stepped off the escalator into a sea of reporters. Signs of “WELCOME HOME NATE” and “SALEM'S HERO'S BACK” bobbed up and down in the throng gathered near the TSA exit point. Off to the side, stood Trevor and Nadia. Megan, who was trailing behind her, steered clear of them and immersed herself in the crowd.

Janet pushed through the crowd and joined Trevor, her gaze darting to the exit aisle beside the checkpoint.

Trevor said, “Hey Janet. Hell of a crowd, huh? There must be a hundred people here.”

“He's not gonna like this,” Janet said.

“No, I don't expect he will. Anyway, I'm going for a cup of coffee.” He turned to Nadia. “What about you, hon? Want anything?”

“I'm quite all right for the moment,” Nadia said in her exacting German accent. “Janet, why don't you come sit with me?”

“I couldn't if I tried,” Janet said. She checked her watch and tried to contain herself. He should be here by now. Where are you, Nate?

The overhead intercom squawked, announcing a flight arrival from Chicago. A few minutes later, a stream of incoming travelers poured through the exit aisle. Breathlessly, Janet watched them walk past her on their way to unknown destinations until at last there he was in his army fatigues, hobbling along with another soldier. When he saw her, he waved.

As she ran to him, the crowd surged behind her. Cameras flashed as Nate put his hand up, sheltering his eyes from the lights. The soldier beside him bolted forward and held the crowd at bay as Janet threw her arms around her son. He let her hold him a moment then stepped out of her grasp. The separation stung. She wanted more. Wanted to keep touching his face, inhale the citrus scent of his cologne and inspect him like a newborn baby.

“You must be exhausted,” she said, glancing at the brace that went the full length of his leg. She fought the urge to drag him back into her arms and forced herself to smile. That's what she had to do when it came to public affection with Nate. He said it made him feel like a child. Well, he was her child and always would be. Again, not for the first time, she wondered how they'd come to this fencing of emotions. Where did she lose her baby and when? Was it the war or was it the Montgomery family curse, which demanded utmost decorum in all things?

“I'm whipped, but I'll manage,” he admitted. He nodded toward his companion. “That's PFC Jennings. We met up in Germany. He lives in Salem so we caught a ride together.”

The tall, dark-haired man glanced back from holding the crowd away and put his hand out to Janet. “Nice to meet you ma'am.”

She looked back into his transparent blue eyes. Ma'am wasn't a name she was accustomed to hearing herself called. She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too. So, were you in Nate's unit?”

The private glanced at Nate. “Umm…”

“No, he was in Alpha company,” Nate said, cutting in emphatically. He winked at Jennings. “Careful, she'll put you under a light and interrogate the hell outta you.”

“Nathan James Porter, I would do no such thing,” she said, aghast.

Just then, Megan popped out of the crowd and ran to them. She hugged Nate and when she pulled away, the questions came from the crowd in a torrent about his heroic deeds and what he had planned for the future. Nate panned the crowd and looked away. Finally, he said, “Thanks for coming everyone. But, hey, it's been a long ride so I'm pretty tired right now. Maybe we can do this another time.” To Megan, he said, “Can we get the hell out of here?”

They managed to escape and found a small Italian restaurant on the east side of town. After they ate, Janet dropped Megan off at Kyle's and settled in for the two-hour drive home. As she drove along Interstate 5 under a slate sky, she watched her son from the corner of her eye. His gaze was fixed straight ahead at the passing fields of winter wheat and rye. Whatever was on his mind, it had his complete attention. Should I say anything? Would it push him further away? The last time I pressed him, he shut down. How long should I wait? Is there ever a right time?

“So, I assume Tracy knows you're home,” she said at last.

He shivered and glanced back at her. “What?”

“Tracy. She knows you've been discharged, right?” She held her breath hoping he wouldn't erect one of his famous barricades around his heart.

He shifted in his seat. “Yeah, she knows,” he said, brushing the question away like crumbs off a cheap suit.

“She must be worried.”

He averted his attention to his passenger-side window. “I guess.”

There it was. Her heart had guessed right. Tracy was no longer part of Nate's future. She ached for him. All she ever wanted was for him to be happy and safe, insulated from the deep bitterness the world was dishing out like breath-mints at a funeral. She blamed herself. Somehow she'd failed him.

For the next twenty minutes, they said nothing until finally, he turned to her. “I've been thinking about getting an apartment. I'd like to do it as soon as possible. You wouldn't mind would you?”

His words slammed into her like a sucker punch, taking her breath away. For a moment she didn't know what to say. The thought of him living on his own so soon after getting home hadn't occurred to her. Sure, he'd want his own place at some point…but so quickly? She swallowed her surprise and buried her disappointment in a smile. “No, of course not, honey. But I think you're gonna be busy with this medal stuff for a bit. And, you'll need a job at some point and what about your leg? Won't you need–”

“Mom!” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “I don't want talk about it, okay?” He shifted in his seat. “Don't look at me like that. I'm fine.”

No, you're not, Nate. She saw his jaw tighten and his shoulder flex. Her grip on the wheel increased. It was taking all her strength to keep from stopping the car and pulling him into her. “I know you are. I just want you to remember you have a home for as long as you want.”

“I know.”

He turned his face toward her, and for a moment she saw his father's determined frown when he wanted something and nothing was going to get in the way. And now he'd become a sterner version of his father. Rigid and unbendable; his beautiful endearing spirit crammed way deep down, like tattered photos in attic boxes that fade under the dust of years.