A Promise of Forever (3 page)

If she’d ever imagined what Ben would be like, it wouldn’t have been close to reality. There wasn’t a bit of resemblance between him and Patricia. Where she was average height, slim, with light brown hair and blue eyes, he was a classic cliché: tall, dark, and handsome. Black hair, dark eyes, with the strong features of one of Oklahoma’s Indian tribes. Nice hands, skillful enough to become a surgeon; long legs; lean body.

She spent her life surrounded by lean bodies. She wasn’t easily swayed by a fine physical specimen. If she was with her best friends right now, one of them would say
But there’s something about
this
body
, and everyone would laugh, because the sheer number of times they’d heard the comment made it more than mere words. It imbued the words with the full power of countless memories of unforgettable good times. Avi knew she’d been lucky to have so many good times.

But her friends weren’t here. Rosemary was stationed in Germany, spending every available free moment studying the architecture of the castles, or so she said. The others agreed that she was really fulfilling her princess fantasy. Jolie had gotten out of the Army and returned to Shreveport, where she shared her quarters with three kids and dealt with an ex-husband who acted like one. Kerry was in South Korea for her second time—or was it third? She freely admitted it was the food that kept drawing her back.

And Paulette was in Arlington.

Deliberately Avi refocused her thoughts. The friends she’d lost were never far from her mind, but the opportunity to relax and enjoy the presence of a totally hot guy hadn’t come along often in the last few years.

“What do you do in the Army?” Ben asked, apparently tiring of the silence about the same time she did.

“Signal,” she replied, then explained, “Communications. I’ll be an instructor at the signal school at Fort Gordon when my leave’s over.”

“When will that be?”

“Four weeks. Mom and Dad have always come to visit me since I joined the Army, but it was time for me to see Oklahoma again.” And to talk to Patricia face-to-face.

He propped one foot on the table. Like her, he wore flip-flops, though his probably cost more than her entire flip-flop wardrobe, and it was an extensive collection, one she’d started years ago. “Any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope. I’m a happy only.” She’d liked having her parents’ attention to herself, being the sole grandchild-light of GrandMir and Popi’s lives. “You have sisters?”

“Two sisters, one brother-in-law, a niece, and two nephews.” His smile was thin. “Except for assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins, that’s the extent of the Noble family.”

And Patricia.
She wanted him to include Patricia. She was his mother, after all, and she was alone and grieving and needed someone to love.

“You’ve got us Grants outnumbered more than two to one. My parents are only children, too.” She’d noticed a dozen times through the meal that his ring finger was bare: no wedding band, no paler skin to indicate that one had ever been there. It had been a long time since she’d noticed such a thing. A long time since she’d sat opposite a gorgeous guy and wondered about his availability. It was a warm, shivery feeling in itself, and the ordinariness of it made it twice as nice. “No wife?”

“No. My sisters say I’m married to my job.”

“Is that enough?”

His gaze darkened and shifted to stare off across the yard. Was he seeing the house on the other side, she wondered, or looking into the past? At someone who’d broken his heart? “Until recently it was.” After a moment, he looked at her again. “You ever been married?”

“No. I always figured there was time for that and kids and college later.” Images flashed through her mind, and the corners of her mouth pulled down. “I was wrong. Time is more precious than I realized.”

The words came out quietly, more regretful than she’d intended. She was grateful when the back door opened and Patricia’s cheery voice said, “Dessert! The best part of the meal.”

Ben rose to help her with the tray she carried, setting it on the table. The three dishes were filled with pound cake, vanilla-bean-flecked ice cream, and a mix of mashed and sliced ripe peaches that practically drew a moan from Avi. Oh, she’d missed fresh Oklahoma peaches!

“Can I get you some more wine, Avi?” Patricia asked, holding up the bottle from the dining table.

“No, thank you.”

“I won’t ask Ben. Even when he’s not on call, he doesn’t drink enough to get a hummingbird tipsy, in case he’s got to go in and assist in an emergency.” Patricia chose the chair to Avi’s left, handed her a dessert dish, then took her own and sank back. “I’ve got a son who’s a surgeon, a daughter who’s an oil leasing whiz, and one who’s raising the three most perfect kids you ever saw. Just how blessed am I?”

There was that Oklahoma spirit again. Looking for the good in the worst of times. Avi intended to renew hers while she was home, to recover that indomitability, that glass-half-full optimism that made Oklahomans special. She had relied on a sense of fatalism to get through the last five years.
What will be, will be. If it’s my time to die, I’ll die. If it’s my day to stick my hand inside my buddy’s chest and try to keep him from bleeding out but he does anyway, it’s meant to be.

She and fatalism weren’t a good match.

“This is delicious, Patricia,” she said, her
yumms
implied in her voice.

“Isn’t the cake lovely? My dear neighbor, Lucy, baked it. She lives right across the yard there. She’s talked a time or two about opening her own restaurant or dessert shop. There’s a part of me that wants her to jump right into it and a part that really would prefer to keep all the excess goodies flowing in our direction.”

“How is Lucy?” That came from Ben, intent on his dessert and asking the question as if it were an afterthought. Which, of course, made Avi think it wasn’t an afterthought at all. That answered her question about whether he’d been staring at the house a few moments earlier. Did it also answer her question about a broken heart?

“She’s fine. I guess you didn’t have time to visit her this morning, what with Saturday clinic and all. Ben’s practice is so busy that they have to schedule clinics on Saturdays twice a month to get caught up on all their patients.” Patricia further explained, “Lucy and I are members of the Tuesday Night Margarita Club. Out of tragedy comes joy, they say, and the margarita sisters have provided me with a lot of joy.”

Ben gazed at the house across the yard again, just for a moment, before explaining to Avi, “They’re also called the Fort Murphy Widows Club.”

Avi caught herself from recoiling. She’d heard of such groups, but she’d never imagined anyone she knew actually claiming membership in one. Sure, in the beginning a person needed a support group, but after a while, wasn’t that just refusing to let go of the past and face the future?

What do you know, Avery? You’re great at facing the future, but letting go isn’t one of your talents. You just drag all your sorrows right along with you.

But she couldn’t forget. The people she’d known, the things they’d done…they should be remembered forever and ever, amen.

The conversation turned lighter, tales about Patricia’s grandchildren, comments about great restaurants Avi had to try while she was in town, Patricia relating her conversation with Avi’s mother when she found out she would miss the first week of Avi’s visit.

“I said, ‘Why, of course she wouldn’t schedule her first visit in a decade to coincide with your cruise. You know the Army. It’s just how things happen.’” Patricia laughed, easing the worry lines that seemed to have taken up permanent residence, then gave Avi a mock-stern gaze. “Don’t you ever let her know that’s exactly what you did. Your mama’s never been gone from home a month, much less twelve years like you. She doesn’t understand how much a person can need time alone, especially when that person is her baby girl.”

“I’ll make it up to her, I promise.” Avi set her empty dish down, her stomach filled with sweet, cold summery goodness. “Let me help you with the cleanup, then I’d better head back to the house. It’s been a long day.”

Patricia fluttered her hands in a brush-off gesture. “Forget about the cleanup. Ben stopped making that offer when he found out I was coming along behind him redoing everything.”

“Is it my fault you’re compulsive about your dishes?” he asked, one brow raised.

“I’m just a little compulsive,” she teased. As she stood, a frown furrowed her brows. “Avi, I didn’t see any car out front besides Ben’s. How did you get here?”

“I walked. It’s not that far.”

“Oh, sweetie, Ben will take you home. You don’t mind, do you, Ben? It’s not far, but with the sun going down and her being new in town…”

Avi smiled, all too able to imagine the same arguments in her mother’s voice. Forget that Avi was a soldier, that she’d done five combat tours, that Tallgrass was about as safe as a place could be. She was Beth’s little girl, and she still needed protecting.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Ben said.

Patricia embraced Avi again, holding her tight enough to make her feel like a little kid, safe in her mother’s arms. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve prayed every day.”

“Me, too.” Even when she’d wondered if God was listening. That hadn’t stopped her, though. Every day, whether full of faith or running on empty, she’d said her prayers. After all, what if she’d been too cynical to offer up prayers for their safety and one of her comrades had died that day? It wasn’t a risk she had been willing to take.

With another squeeze, Patricia released her, then began gathering dishes. Ben gestured toward the driveway, and they headed that way. They walked in silence until they reached the street, where he stopped.

“My car’s there.” He gestured to a sporty car out front that cost more than she’d made her last year in the desert. “You want a ride or do you prefer to walk?”

She considered it a moment. She had a weakness for powerful little cars, especially after months when her primary mode of transportation was her own two feet or an MRAP, a mine-resistant ambush protected vehicle. But right now those feet wanted to move. “I’d rather walk, if you don’t mind.”

He gestured in agreement, and she turned right. It was only three blocks west, then four blocks north, to the house Popi had built for GrandMir to celebrate their tenth anniversary. It was old and comfortable and had the best yard in town, and she loved it dearly.

After a half block in silence, she said, “You don’t really have to see me all the way home.”

He gave her a slight smile. “My father would disagree. He had very strict rules for how men treated women. Holding a chair, opening a door, walking on the street side of the sidewalk…” His long fingers gestured toward his position on the sidewalk.

“So if a reckless driver comes along and swerves onto the sidewalk, you can push me out of the way?” She laughed. “I had to ask GrandMir about that one. I never could figure it out myself.” She hesitated. “Is your father still living?”

“No.” Ben’s mouth tightened, then relaxed again. “But his influence lives on.”

“One of the best things you can say about a parent.” She hoped one day her children or grandchildren would be paying the same compliment to her.

“My dad was a good guy. He was better suited to being a father than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Avi pulled the elastic band from her hair, gathered the hair again, then tugged it back into a neater, higher ponytail. “Is that why you haven’t had kids yet? You don’t want to face such high standards?”

“Nah. He taught me well. But surgery takes a lot of hours. Clinic days, OR days, call. I wanted to get established before I considered marriage or having kids, and by the time I realized that I
was
established, I was booked solid for months ahead. I don’t have time to date, fall in love, be a father.”

Is that enough?
she’d asked, and he’d replied,
Until recently.
“You’d better make some changes then.” She thought about Lucy, wondering if she was the catalyst that made him realize work wasn’t enough anymore. Avi would guess they weren’t still seeing each other, or surely he would have spent this evening with her instead. Had their relationship failed, and why, and when?

It was none of her business. After all, she wasn’t looking for a relationship. Fun, a boyfriend to share dinners and dances and beds, a man to help ease her back into normal life…She could do full justice to a sexy, good-for-now kind of fling in the next thirty days, with no strings and no regrets.

And for a woman who had way too many regrets, that sounded pretty damn good.

After a few more blocks, they turned right. Ben had learned in the short time that Avi was a career soldier, that she didn’t like the blues or jazz—his favorite kinds of music—and that her tastes in food ran to good old home-style cooking. No fusion, saffron-scented air, tiny portions artistically arranged on huge plates and kissed with multiple sauces.

“Oh, and no trendy, cool-vibe places whose names are misspelled on purpose,” she added.

He laughed. “You’ve just described half the places I eat at.”

“I am not surprised. You strike me as a trendy, cool-vibe sort of person.”

“I think I’ve been insulted.”

This time she laughed. “Oh, no, Doc. When I’ve insulted you, you’ll know.” She slid her hands into pockets that Ben hadn’t realized the dress had. He found himself wishing that she slid her hand into his, so he could feel its heat and warmth and strength, so he could imagine how a real touch from her would feel. Wanting wasn’t a new thing, but it had felt like it back in the early summer with Lucy. It felt like it again now, new and filled with potential. Pretty women and potential were one of his favorite combinations.

After a moment’s silence, Avi gave him a sidelong look. “How is Patricia doing, really?”

He shoved his hands in his own pockets and shrugged. He got that question from people he worked with, from friends, and he gave them a stock answer:
She’s coping.
But Avi wasn’t the sort to settle for stock answers, he didn’t think, and she knew Patricia probably as well as he did, if not better.