“Well, at least it came with a shorthand name.”
“Except my last name is Nicholson.” When I didn’t respond, not following his point, he spelled it out for me. “Back in the day, my friends used to call me Buck, short for Buck and Change. At least, that’s what everyone settled on after a range of short-term nicknames didn’t pan out. With a first name like Cash, and a last name close to nickel, I didn’t stand a chance at anything normal. Luckily, I was able to escape it when I moved away after high school.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“I was born in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, then moved to Dallas—Georgia, not Texas—when I was twelve. I didn’t leave there until I was eighteen.”
“Did you go to college?”
There was a slight pause, not long, but enough to catch my attention and make me wonder if I had finally reached something he wasn’t overly comfortable talking about. “No. I joined the army.”
“Oh, wow. Are you still in it? Is that why you travel a lot?”
“Not really. I was discharged before I made it through basic. I couldn’t pass the physical, so I was faced with letting Uncle Sam foot the bill—basically owning me—or leaving. I chose to leave.”
“Why?”
Another pause, but this time, it was longer and accompanied by a long exhale. It made me imagine him reclining on his couch, maybe his feet propped up, his head back, staring at the ceiling while talking to me.
“It’s funny…I thought I knew what I was getting into when I signed up. I scored really high on the ASVAB and was led to believe there was an elite program for people with my specific aptitudes. My recruiter detailed the government’s need for intellect, and not just brawn—I was na?ve and believed the half-truths I was told. But once I got there, this program was a joke. It was impossible to get into straight out of basic. It existed, but only to entice people like me—who weren’t interested in being infantry—to sign away our lives. Bootcamp was no joke. It’s designed to brainwash new enlistees, to make them stop relying on themselves and start living for the unit—following instructions without rhyme or reason. I can’t tell you how many holes I dug, only to have a drill sergeant immediately tell me to fill it back in. And then dig it again.”
I could’ve listened to him talk forever. He was so animated with his words, so full of stories and information. If teachers and college professors spoke like he did, they’d have a higher grade-point average in their classes—at least in regard to the females.
“Anyway, there’s a second physical once you’re there. And during that exam, the army’s doctor found an old shoulder injury that he believed needed surgery. And the second I was given the choice to let them cut me open or take a medical discharge—although, it’s not really a discharge because I never completed basic—I elected to get out, because I knew what would be asked of me, what my future would essentially look like. But it wasn’t until I was given the choice that I realized just how much of myself I would have to sacrifice. Nothing I had been told prior to joining the army would ever come to fruition, at least not in the first couple of years I belonged to Uncle Sam. Chasing bad guys was one thing, but sitting around being someone’s bitch for a good chunk of my younger years didn’t appeal to me.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. Part of me understood where he was coming from. As I watched Aria, I was able to sympathize with him. I had known what it meant as soon as those two pink lines showed up. I was nineteen, a student in college, but the second I’d heard her heartbeat for the very first time, I dismissed everyone’s complaints and decided I could do this. But even now, after two years of loving her more than I ever thought I could love another, I still found myself wondering if I’d made the wrong choice. I’d never experience what it’s like to go out drinking on my twenty-first birthday, staying out until the bars closed down. Waking up and heading out to the beach with friends on a hot summer day would never be in my future. And every purchase, even gas for my car, came with a laundry list of pros and cons.
Yet there was nothing that would ever make me turn back time and change it. I just had to keep my head up and figure this parenting thing out the best way I could. I had to make the best choices with what was offered.
I hadn’t responded to his ad because I had seriously thought about moving in with him. But ever since last night, I’d found myself naturally falling into that mindset, having to continuously reiterate to myself that I would never follow through with it.
“After that,” he continued, reminding me that he was still on the phone, “I decided to go to school and took IT classes. I’d always enjoyed computers, but I never thought about making it my profession.”
“So you were a computer nerd?” I pictured him with bottle-cap glasses and a shirt buttoned up to the collar, tucked into jeans that didn’t cover the tops of his white, New Balance tennis shoes.
“Not even close,” he replied with a husky laugh. “I played sports—fit in with the jocks—excelled in math and sciences, and I had an easy understanding of anything technical, so I had friends in every corner of the school.”
“Mr. Popularity,” I teased.
“Nah, I just got along with everyone. What about you?”
I hated how the conversation had turned back to me, but as long as we were enjoying ourselves, I couldn’t complain about who we were talking about. “I was a bit of a loner. Although, I wasn’t bullied or anything, basically ignored. The cool kids would speak to me in class if it pertained to the lecture, but I’m sure none of them remembered my name. It didn’t bother me because I had my best friend, and she was all I needed. She’s a social butterfly and always included me in everything.”
“Is that the girl you live with now?”
“Yes, Stevie.”
“That’s cool you guys are still friends. Do you both go to college together?”
And my heart sank. “No. We did at first, but I dropped out.” Not waiting for him to ask why, I offered a reasonable excuse. “School isn’t for everyone. I attended for a year and a half, dropping out in the middle of the spring semester, just before I finished my second year.”
“You made it that far and called it quits?” He sounded genuinely interested.
“Yeah. My, um…the guy I was seeing made things difficult.”
“Your ex?”
I hated referring to him like that, but I didn’t have much of a choice. “Yes. Although, he was more of a tyrant than a boyfriend.”
Cash’s voice dropped impossibly deeper when he asked, “Did he hurt you?”
“Not physically.” I shoved down the voices telling me how untrue that was, that what he did to me was physical—as well as mental and emotional—but I couldn’t explain all that. No matter how safe Cash made me feel, I wasn’t ready to shine the light on those skeletons.
“How long were you with him?”
“It started when I was sixteen and lasted for three years.”