Requiem (Providence #2)

It wasn’t hard to guess why Jared’s questions about a wedding date had tapered off—he was worried about the nightmares, and he didn’t want to make them worse. I knew Jared wanted to set a date. As the weeks passed and I was still reluctant to discuss it, he had begun to get anxious. Once the sleepless nights began, the wedding was the farthest thing from his mind.

We took a spot by the window, and updated each other on our summers. Beth and Chad had cut back on their hours at their jobs because of the fall semester. Money was scarce, but they were enjoying playing house. Kim had traveled to see family, but returned early.

“My dorm room missed me,” she smiled.

“How did you get them to let you in?” Beth asked.

“I have the gift of persuasion,” Kim said, rubbing her fingers together.

“So you traveled most of the summer, didn’t work, and you had enough money to bribe the powers that be at Brown University?” I asked. “Right.”

Kim shrugged. “I robbed two banks and a liquor store on the way to Chicago.”

“Nice,” I said, taking another sip.

“So Ryan’s in the Army?” Kim asked.

“Kim, Jesus,” Beth said, shaking her head.

I nodded. “Wrote me a letter, and just popped in the mail on his way to war. Like it was nothing. Like a freakin’ birthday card.”

“Or a post card,” Kim added.

“With soldiers on it,” Beth said. She looked down, trying not to smile.

“With green and black faces, and big guns,” Kim smiled.

Beth waited a moment, and then spoke again. “In camo speedos.”

“Lying on a hammock on the beach, with ‘Greetings from War’ in big, yellow, bubble letters,” I frowned.

Beth giggled before making a poor attempt at a straight face. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s completely my fault. I should have stopped him.”

Beth’s smile disappeared. She touched my arm. “Nigh, you didn’t know to stop him.”

“No, I sure didn’t,” I said under my breath, knowing Jared could hear.

We tossed our empty cups into the trash before making our way to campus. The walk seemed longer than the years before. I remembered walking down the same street, wondering if I would run into Jared, hoping I could steal another moment with him. A smile touched my mouth as I looked behind us. The Escalade was parked across the street, half a block away.

So much had changed since I sat on the park bench. Life had gone from bad to worse, to wonderful to unbelievable, and now my days were as mundane as any other college sophomore. If only I could close my eyes without seeing my father, but that was asking for too much.

Beth would steal a peek at me now and then. Finally my curiosity outweighed my aversion to her lengthy explanations.

“Okay, Beth. Do I have something on my face?” I asked.

“A booger,” Kim said without expression, pointing to my nose.

“I have a booger on my nose?” I gasped, my hand flying up to cover it.

“No,” Kim said.

Beth smiled. “It doesn’t look like you’ve had much sleep, is all.”

My hand didn’t leave my face without wiping my nose a few times, and then I made a face at Kim. “I haven’t, I guess.”

“You guess?” Beth persisted.

“Bad dreams,” Kim said.

“How did you know?” I asked.

Kim shrugged. “Just a guess. What are they about?”

“Mostly Jack.”

Beth’s mouth slipped to the side, and then she frowned at Kim with disapproval. Kim didn’t flinch.

“What about your dad?” Kim said.

I scratched my head and watched for traffic—stalling, of course, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had turned.

“Just the way he died. But it’s different.”

“Different how?” Kim prodded.

Beth stopped mid-step. “Geez, Kim! Knock it off already!”

“Sometimes talking about it can help, Nina,” Kim said, ignoring Beth.

“Not today,” I said, looking up the aged brick of the business building, “I’ll see you guys at lunch.”

Class was endless. My mind filled with thoughts of Sasha, Jared, and Claire waiting in the unforgiving desert sun to save Ryan from himself. As time wound down, I felt more and more angry. Guilt followed me everywhere I went, and the lack of sleep left me irritated. By the time class dismissed, I pushed through the door, paying no attention to the flabbergasted looks of the students I shoved past.

Kim stopped me in my tracks. “Whoa!”

A few breaths were necessary before I could speak. “Sorry…I was…I don’t know.”

“Class was that bad, huh?”

“I don’t remember,” I said, rubbing my temple where it had met with Kim’s bony shoulder.

Kim looked down the hall, and then back at me. “Okay. What’s going on with you? You’re not yourself.”

“I’m just tired,” I said, sliding by her to escape down the stairs.