Authors: Mila Gray
want to do it on my own.’
‘But four more years?’ my dad asks, giving me a look.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I can make corporal again, maybe ser-
geant in a year or two.’
‘You want to go back into a war zone? You think you’re
ready?’
I turn back to him. ‘Yeah. I think I am.’
My dad holds my gaze for a long beat and I have
to fight not to look away. Is he right? Am I just reacting?
The thing is, I can’t see another way. It’s what I decided
down at the beach. The Marine Corps is all I know. Those
dreams I had of opening a cafe, of moving to LA, seem
stupid now, naive. Maybe with Jessa I could have done it,
but now I don’t have the motivation. There’s no one to do
it for.
My dad sighs heavily and then hands me a mug of
coffee. I take it.
‘Thanks, Dad,’ I say. ‘For everything. For getting me
through the last few months. I couldn’t have done it
without you.’
My dad gives me a rueful smile and slaps me on the
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shoulder. ‘Well, I couldn’t have gotten sober without you
and your sister, so I figure I owed you.’
We drink our coffee in silence for a while, and when I
finish I put my mug down.
‘I’m going out for a bit,’ I say to my dad.
‘Where are you going?’ my dad asks.
‘To the recruitment office. Get my papers signed before
I change my mind.’
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Jessa
‘Have you thought about what you want to do for your
birthday?’
‘Huh?’ I turn to look at my mom.
We’re folding laundry together – babies seem to create
a crazy amount of mess, and my mom likes to help Jo out
as much as possible so she can concentrate on her studies.
‘Your birthday − it’s next week. Have you thought
about what you want to do?’
‘Oh, no,’ I answer vaguely. Truthfully I’ve been trying
to avoid thinking about it because my birthday also hap-
pens to be the anniversary of the day Kit and I first got
together. Thinking back to that night – of our first kiss
behind the bushes, the road trip out into the desert, of
lying out under the stars – only makes me sad . . . though
not thinking about it seems to make me sadder. Once
again I try to push the memory of this morning out of
my mind, though I fail. I can’t stop remembering Kit’s
face when he told me he wanted me, and then again
when I told him it was too late. I don’t think I’ll ever be
able to forget his expression.
‘What’s up?’ my mom asks, folding one of Riley’s
blankets. ‘You seem a million miles away.’
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‘Nothing,’ I say. I’m still getting used to these conversa-
tions with my mom. It’s only since Riley was born that
she’s snapped out of her stupor and stopped taking the
Valium. She’s started to be more engaged with life again,
and with me. I can’t put it all down to the baby. My dad’s
resolution to be a better father and husband seems to
have something to do with it too.
‘Is Todd going to take you somewhere nice?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say, busying myself with a pile of bibs.
‘Are things OK with you two?’ my mom asks.
I think about not saying anything but she’ll probably
find out anyway from Kit’s dad. ‘Kit came by this morn-
ing,’ I tell her.
My mom stops folding and stares at me. ‘He’s back?’
I know my mom is desperate to talk to him, to reassure
him she doesn’t in any way blame him for what hap-
pened. She still thinks of Kit as her second son.
I nod. ‘Yeah, he’s back.’
‘What did he say?’ she asks, the laundry totally forgot-
ten.I take a deep breath. ‘That he loved me. That he
wanted to be with me. All this stuff about how sorry he is
and how much he wants to make it up to me.’ I laugh and
shake my head.
My mom doesn’t say anything, and when I glance at
her out of the corner of my eye, I see her eyebrows are
almost meeting her hairline. ‘And?’ she asks. ‘What did
you tell him?’
I shrug and snap out a sheet. ‘I told him it was too late.
I mean,’ I rattle on, ‘of course I told him no.’ I start fold-
ing with swift, precise movements. ‘I can’t believe he
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Mila Gray
thinks he can just waltz back into my life like nothing’s
happened and expect everything to be the same. It isn’t.
I’ve moved on. I’m with Todd now.’
I stare down at the sheet in my hands. It looks like it’s
been folded by a toddler with one hand tied behind his
back. I shake it out in frustration and start again. For the
last five hours all I’ve been able to think about is Kit,
about our conversation. I’ve been replaying it over and
over, each time getting more and more frustrated and
angry. My head is in as much disarray as the sheet.
‘Do you like him?’
I look at my mother sharply. ‘Kit?’ I ask confused.
These girly chats are new ground for us and I’m not en -
tirely comfortable talking to her about boys. Maybe that’s
a hangover from having to date Kit in secret.
‘No. Todd.’
‘Yes,’ I say, a little too fast. ‘Of course I like him.’
‘I mean
really
like him?’ my mom asks.
‘Yeah,’ I say. Then add, ‘I think.’
‘You think? You shouldn’t have to think about it, Jessa.’
I drop the sheet back into the basket. That thing is never
going to get folded. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I admit,
and as soon as I say it it feels like a little bit of the weight
has lifted off my shoulders. I look at my mom. There’s too
much confusion in my head. I can’t think straight.
‘Yes, you do,’ my mom says.
I can’t help the frown. ‘Kit?’ I say. ‘You think I should
break up with Todd and get back together with Kit?’
My mom gives me an
it’s obvious
kind of look and I
shake my head firmly. ‘I’m not going to do that. No way.’
‘Do you see yourself marrying Todd?’ she asks.
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Marriage? What? What is she talking about? ‘No! I’m
only eighteen! Are you crazy?’
‘Did you see yourself marrying Kit?’
I draw in a breath and think about lying, but then I
close my mouth and nod. Because I did. I used to dream
all those things – weddings, babies, rocking chairs on the
porch – not that I ever admitted it to him or anyone else.
My mom smiles smugly. ‘There’s your answer, then.
You only live once, Jessa.’
I snatch one of Riley’s onesies from her hands as she
reaches for it from the basket. She’s struck a chord. Kit’s
words from long ago come back to me:
Life’s short, you
only get one shot. Make it count.
‘It’s not that simple,’ I say, shaking my head to try and
dislodge the memory of Kit.
‘Yes, it is,’ my mom answers. ‘Your father didn’t marry
the right person, Jessa. He should never have married me.
He loved someone else.’
The casual way she’s just thrown that into the conver-
sation blindsides me, renders me totally speechless for
several seconds. I watch her as she continues to fold, a
faintly sad smile on her lips.
‘But . . .’ I shake my head trying to clear the confusion.
‘What?’
‘I was his rebound,’ my mom says. ‘The same as Todd
is for you. He married me because he wanted to hurt her,
and by the time I found out I was second best, the consola-
tion prize, it was too late. I was pregnant with Riley.’
She keeps folding clothes as though what she’s just
told me isn’t any kind of big deal, isn’t one of the most
heartbreaking things I’ve ever heard. It can’t be true. ‘No,’
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I say. ‘Mom . . .’ My own heart is breaking for her. How
could my dad do that? How could she live with him this
whole time knowing that he loved someone else?
‘It’s true,’ my mom says, and then looking up and
seeing my expression she adds, ‘It’s OK. I was an idiot.’
She smiles ruefully. ‘I was young. I knew something
wasn’t right, but I ignored my instinct and went ahead
and married him anyway. I was madly in love with him.
And it wasn’t his fault he was still in love with someone
else.’
‘It was his fault,’ I say, suddenly outraged. I was just
managing to forgive my father for being an asshole to Kit
and Riley, and now this. ‘He shouldn’t have married you,
not if he was still in love with someone else.’
She gives me a pointed look and I squirm. Shit. Am I
just as bad as my dad? Am I being totally unfair to Todd?
I hadn’t thought so until now. But it’s not like I plan on
marrying Todd . . . so then, why do I feel so bad? I
squeeze the thoughts out of my head. I’m getting dis-
tracted.
‘Why did you stay with him?’ I ask.
‘Because of you two children. Once you have kids,
everything changes. And I knew that leaving him, taking
you two with me, would have destroyed him.’
‘But I don’t understand,’ I say to my mom. ‘What
happened? Who was Dad in love with?’
My mom glances at her watch. ‘It’s a long story and
Riley’s going to be awake in a moment. Jo’s going to be
here in half an hour and I want him fed by then.’
‘OK,’ I say, flustered, my head spinning.
‘And you have someplace to be, don’t you?’ my mom
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asks as she takes the basket of laundry and heads for the
door.
‘Where?’ I ask.
She pauses in the doorway and looks back at me. ‘Isn’t
there someone you need to see?’ She gives me another
pointed look and, just like that, as if she’s turned on a
light in my brain, everything becomes clear to me. I know
exactly what I need to do.
‘Thanks, Mom,’ I say, rushing past her.
Just as I reach the door, I turn and do something I
haven’t done in a long time − I race back and throw my
arms around her and hug her. For a moment she falters; I
hear the breath catch in her throat. Even though the laun-
dry basket is wedged between us creating a barrier, it
feels as if a lot of other invisible barriers have just been
broken down, and when I rush off again, breathless and
in a mildly euphoric state of panic, I feel so light and free
that I burst out laughing as I run up the stairs, and my
dad, coming out of his study with his car keys in his
hand, stands stock still in the hallway and watches me,
his mouth falling open.
‘Slow down!’ he calls out as I trip on the top step in my
haste to get to my bedroom and find my phone.
I look over my shoulder. He’s smiling up at me. I grin
back at him.
‘Can’t!’ I say. ‘I’m late for something.’
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Kit
All these rows of white stones – like rows of teeth grow-
ing out of the earth – give me the creeps. I feel like I need
to tiptoe, or at the very least apologize to the people I’m
walking over.
As I weave between the gravestones, I try not to think
of the last time I was here. I barely remember much of it
anyway, thankfully. The only thing I recall clearly is try-
ing to kill a tree with my fists. I broke several bones in my
hands, and now they ache like hell whenever it rains and
make me associate cold weather with death.
I come to Riley’s grave and take a deep, jarring breath
as I read his name carved into the stone. I sit down cross-
legged in front of it, and for a while all I do is stare at the
dates, finding it hard to believe that so much time has
passed, feeling frustrated at all he’s missed, angry at how
short his life was, that he never really got to live it. I look
at the fresh bunches of flowers, wondering who left them
– Jessa? Jo? His mom?
‘I miss you, man,’ I finally say.
I wasn’t sure what I was planning on doing when I got
here, whether I’d just say a few words in my head or
nothing at all, but once I open my mouth it all comes
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rushing out. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, tears burning my eyes. It
feels like the floodgates are opening after being cemented
shut for the last nine months, and suddenly I start to cry.
‘I fucked up,’ I sob. ‘In so many ways. I wasn’t there for Jo
and I hurt Jessa. You told me you’d beat the crap out of
me if I ever hurt her, and I have.’ I pause to swallow away
the rock-shaped lump in my throat. ‘I wish you were
around to beat the crap out of me. But I guess on the
upside, at least I get to keep my balls.’ I laugh through
my nose, snorting snot. ‘That’s what everyone’s always