Bent not Broken (326 page)

Looking over at him, I think to myself that even though he’s usually quiet he never has that distant look in his eyes that he has now. He’s always present for people.

“Yeah,” she says, “but he’s quieter than usual.”

He
is
quieter than usual. “He’s probably just exhausted. I can’t imagine being in the situation he was in for the last six months. He told me last night that at one point they’d had to sleep on the ground for six weeks. Six weeks. And that’s when he was able to sleep. Sometimes he went two days without sleep. And all that while eating one or maybe two MREs a day.” I tear up again as I think about how hard things were for him and his brothers.

Bonnie shakes her head. “Geez, that’s insane.”

“It makes me want to do something, but I don’t know what. I feel helpless.”

We gather in my huge sunroom so that we can accommodate everyone in order to give thanks and get dinner started. Adrian pulls me in front of him to lean me back on his chest. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave my side again.”

Looking into those eyes, I see murky depths that trouble me. Putting my hand on his jaw, I ask, “Are you OK, baby?” He lets out a long breath and nods. I pull him to me and give him a soft kiss. “Are you ready to get rid of everyone?” He just nods again and I grin.

Louis gets everyone’s attention and makes a little speech about duty and service and how proud we are of Adrian. I can feel Adrian cringing under me with every word until I finally look back at him. He’s clearly uncomfortable. I grab his hand and squeeze it.

We move to start dinner and Garner stands up, which instantly makes me nervous. I’ve heard his rousing speeches before and there are children present. “Garner keep it G rated,” I joke.

He has the grace to hang his head a little and give a nervous laugh before popping back up and raising his drink to Adrian. “Dude, I’ve never been happier to have someone home from war. I know it’s tough listening to us talk about your bravery and honor, but just know that what you do, what you did, protects everyone and everything that we love. And I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get back to making music. I’d much rather make the world go around that way, wouldn’t you, bro?” Adrian nods and grins at him. “Oorah!”

All the Marines say, “Oorah!” My future Marines aren’t left out either.

****

I HEAR LOTS of shuffling around and shushing and know that they’re trying to surprise me. It brings an instant smile to my face, and even though I’m exhausted, I drag myself out of bed to join them.

Entering the kitchen, I take in my men. They have an assembly line set up for making French toast. How adorable. I ruffle their heads as I pass them. “Hey guys,” I mumble as I walk straight into Adrian’s arms and burrow. What a fabulous way to wakeup.

“Babe, you were supposed to be sleeping in. The boys and I were going to surprise you.”

I laugh and look up at him. He looks better today. More rested, refreshed. “I’m still surprised, Adrian,” I say, planting a kiss on his chest. “You made coffee?”

“Of course. Go sit down. I’ll make you a cup.”

“Thank you.”

Sitting at the kitchen table, I pull out my organizer and start checking off the details for the official blessing of our marriage. Adrian puts a cup of coffee in front of me, so I look up to tell him thank you but catch him frowning a little. “What’s wrong?” I ask instead.

“It’s going to be small, right?”

I tilt my head. “Yes, just our close friends and whatever family approves and a small reception here at the house. We still have two weeks before all that, though. Is that OK?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“OK,” I murmur as he walks away.

“All right, boys, make sure you get it coated real good on both sides with the egg mixture.”

“Like this, Pops?” Paris asks.

“Yep, that looks perfect.”

I hear a little crash and the sure sound of a spill and look up to see Finn’s face crumple. Oh no, poor baby.

“I’m sorry,” Finn cries.

Adrian starts toward him to help him out, “Dude, it’s—”

“God, Finn, you’re so stupid!” Archer says and rolls his eyes.

I open my mouth to get onto Archer. Before I can, Adrian snaps.

“Archer, everyone in this house is sick of your bad attitude and your smartass mouth,” he growls. My eyes widen and I look at Archer, who looks like he’s about to cry. I’m speechless. “You know what, why don’t you just go to your room where no one will bother you? Cause I’m pretty sure we’d all like to eat in peace.”

We all freeze for a moment. My home is not perfect by any means; however, we don’t usually lose our tempers. The boys are certainly not used to me or even their dad, when he was alive, lashing out. Archer jerks out of his stupor first and slams his fork down and stomps away.

Adrian starts to follow him, but I jump up and say, “Adrian, how about you and me step outside for a second and cool down before we talk to Archer, OK?”

His gaze flies down to me and he says, “Did I do something wrong? Or are we gonna focus on that smart mouth that Archer’s suddenly developed?”

“Oh, we’re going to take care of that. I’d just like for us to be on the same page first,” I say calmly.

He just walks around me and heads out to the porch.

“Paris help Finn clean up his mess, please. I’ll be right back.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I head out to the porch and find Adrian with his head down between his shoulders and his arms braced on the porch rail. I look out over the yard and see Mrs. Jones tending to her flowerbeds, so I give her a small wave. She’s super nosey, so I’m glad I’ve noticed her.

Adrian hears me and turns around and folds his arms over his chest. Leaning back against the rail, he looks calmer. “I lost my temper.”

“Yes, you did. I’m worried about you. Two years you’ve been helping me raise these boys and I’ve never seen you get angry with them. Frustrated? Yes. Angry? No.”

“Cel, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know where that came from.”

Taking pity on him, I cross over and wrap my arms around him, laying my head on his chest. “It’s a little different now, going from being their cousin to their father. It’s going to take some adjustments on all our parts. And really what you said to him was perfectly acceptable. I just take exception with how you said it is all.”

“My dad used to cuss us out and overreact and I hated it. Used to cause me to walk around on eggshells. That’s what I’ve always loved about being here. Everyone always feels so…comfortable. I fucked that right up.”

I can’t help but laugh. He sounds so pathetic. It’s adorable. “Adrian, we’re bound to have some growing pains. It was one incident. And Archer’s been a little turd lately. We’ll work it out. He had big plans to stay the night with Taylor this weekend. I’m saying that we take that away since he’s usually so good and talk to him, of course. He’s really only made his snide comments these last few days. Show him we mean business but don’t go overboard. What do you think?”

“I think whatever you think. With this little smart butt exception, you’ve managed to raise some amazing kids. God, I hope Archer’s not too mad at me,” he says as he rubs his hands over his face.

I smile at him. “Thank you. Archer’s an understanding young man, and he adores you. We’ll work this out. I will say that I’m glad you’re going out with the guys this weekend. You need to blow off some steam.”

He leans and gives me a little kiss. “Thank you, babe. I love you. I’m sorry about that.”

“I love you too. Let’s go talk to Archer.”

****

THE REST OF the week runs pretty smoothly. We’re all in planning mode. The boys are planning for their spring vacation, and I’m planning our little reception, and Adrian’s getting back into his music. We settle into a routine, and even though Adrian is quiet, he seems much better.

Tonight, it’s boys’ night out and girls’ night in. Bonnie and Farah have come over and the guys have taken Adrian out. I’m pretty sure I heard “bar crawl” floating around.

The girls pop in
Bridget Jones’s Diary
while I make margaritas. The little boys play
Guitar Hero
in the back.

I start to pour a third and remember Farah doesn’t always partake. “Farah, do you want a margarita, honey?”

“No, thanks,” she calls casually, “I’m having a baby.”

I slam down my margarita pitcher, sloshing margarita everywhere.
Whoops!
Rushing into the living room, I see Bonnie already all over her. I shake my head at her. “Thanks, what a way to tell me.” I join in on the hugging and the tears and the talking to the baby who’s probably the size of a pea right now.

Two down, one to go. Farah and I were both on top of the world. Now we just needed to get Bonnie there.

Twenty-Three

Protect At All Costs

MY PHONE WAKES me up from a dead sleep. Margaritas have that brain-numbing effect. Grabbing for my phone, I simultaneously put my glasses on and blink at the time and the caller before answering. “Louis? It’s three o’clock in the morning.” Looking over my shoulder, I register no Adrian.

“Cel, don’t freak out, OK?”

“Now I’m freaking out,” I say. “What’s going on?”

He blows out a deep breath. “Adrian’s been arrested and is being held for twenty-four hours. But he’s OK.”

“What was he arrested for?” Other than a noise violation, I don’t think he’s ever been in trouble with the law before and that was back in college.

Another deep breath released. “Public intoxication, public disturbance, simple assault and destruction of city property.”

“Excuse me? Adrian doesn’t get drunk.”

“I know. I was pretty surprised myself. I would have told him to lay off, but it happened pretty quickly and probably because he doesn’t drink very often.”

“What happened?” I want to cry. I don’t understand this at all. I know it’s not the end of the world, but this isn’t like him at all.

“We were at a club and some guy got violent with his girlfriend. Adrian intervened. The guy got mouthy with him, got in his face. Adrian warned him. Guy didn’t stop. Adrian punched him. Once. That’s all it took.”

“Oh my God. What about the other stuff?”

“Well, that’s where it got bad. The one punch we probably could’ve gotten him out of pretty easily, but when the cops got there, Adrian got pissed off because they were jackasses. So he started throwing some insults. They, uh, arrested him. Once they had him in the back of the cop car, the arresting officer kept being an asshole. Just taunting him, you know?”

“And?”

“Adrian kicked out the back window of their car.”

I gasp. “What? Like the side window? Don’t those usually have a cage on them?”

“Not the side window. The big back window. And, yes, there was a cage. That didn’t seem to matter to your pissed off Marine.”

“Louis, that’s just not like him at all. He’s been acting strange since he got back. Quiet, moody, and he was even short-tempered. I mean, he’s an intense guy, yes. But this is different.”

“Yep, I noticed something off as well. I just chalked it up to stress and exhaustion.”

I run my hand through my hair, offering up a silent prayer on how to help my husband. “When can I pick him up? Do I have to bail him out or what?”

“Umm…he told me that I’m to pick him up. He doesn’t want you involved.”

“He doesn’t want me involved?” I squeak out disbelievingly.

“Yeah, Cel, I think he’s ashamed and doesn’t want to hurt you.”

I wipe at my eyes. The tears that are flowing cannot be stopped. My husband is hurting and doesn’t want my help. “He’s my husband. He hurts. I hurt,” I whisper.

“I know, baby girl. Look, I’m going to get him tomorrow morning, take him to his apartment—”

“Don’t you take him to his apartment, Louis. Bring him home to me.”

“He asked that I bring him to his apartment. He said he’s no good for anyone right now.”

****

SITTING ON ADRIAN’S couch, all I can do is replay those words, “He said he’s no good for anyone right now.” And every time I do, I just want to cry.

I’ve been waiting here for over an hour. I’d looked around and noticed lots of pictures of the boys stuck here and there. I found his programs for the boys’ events on his coffee table. All signs of a wonderfully supportive person who needed me right now, but it sounds like I might have a fight on my hands. I know that Hebert pride, and it was a force to be reckoned with. I’ve got news for him, though, I’m an Hebert too.

When I hear the key turn in the lock, my stomach turns right along with it. I’m a ball of nerves. I take a deep, calming breath and prepare myself. I tell myself to remain calm no matter what he throws at me.

His eyes find mine right away—despair, anguish, fear. I tear up again. “Hi, baby.”

“Celeste, what are you doing here, babe? I told Louis to tell you just to give me some time.” The jacket that he’s holding has all his attention.

I swallow hard. He’s calm. I’d gotten a “babe.” The message is still clear, though. Stay away. “Adrian, that’s not the way it works.” He sinks down onto the chair opposite me but doesn’t stop staring at his jacket. “You’re my husband. It’s my place to help you. Hell, it’s my desire to help you. Something’s going on. Is it this instant family you have?” His eyes finally fly up to meet mine. “Do you feel overwhelmed by us?”

“God, no. That’s not it. Celeste, y’all are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Then what is it, Adrian? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on. You didn’t hide your feelings from me when we were just friends, and now’s not the time to start.”

He drapes his jacket over his chair and runs his hands over his face and over his head. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

Getting up, he goes into the kitchen and I watch as he makes himself a glass of ice water. It’s a struggle not to pounce on him and drag this out of him and figure out how to help him. He drinks it and then pours another damn glass and drinks it. Finally, he sets the glass down and comes back into the living room.

“Sorry. I was extremely thirsty.”

“I bet. I heard you had a lot to drink last night. You’re probably dehydrated.”