It Had To Be You (12 page)

She waited. Then said, “Just once. If it
doesn’t help, I won’t ask again.”

He glanced at the clock. “Now?”

“
If he’s available. I could call
him.”

“
Okay.”

Lela reached in her pocket for her phone. She
called 411 and was punched in to the House 7 phone. It was well
after five. Beck was working yesterday, so hopefully he’d be on
today. And still there. “House 7,” a familiar voice said.
“Firefighter Sloan speaking.”

“
Hi, Beck. It’s Lela.”

Quiet. Then, “Hi. I’m surprised to hear from
you.” He didn’t sound displeased.

“
I took a chance you were still at work
and getting off duty soon.”

“
I am. My replacement just came in.
What’s up?”

“
I was wondering if you could come to
the Veteran’s Outreach Shelter on Collins Avenue. It’s not too far
away from where you are.”

“
Why?”

She explained the circumstances.

“
Damn it. Are you okay?”

Her hand went to her neck. “I’m fine. Can you
spare an hour?”

“
Of course. I’ll leave right now. See
you soon.”

When she hung up, she faced Nick. “He’s
coming.”

“
I heard. Seems like you can talk
anybody into anything.”

She decided to take the jibe lightly. “And
you best remember that, young man. Now, y’all come into the clinic
and help me take stock of what we need while we wait for Beck.”

“
Yes, ma’am.”

Fifteen minutes later, Beck followed Julie,
the woman who ran the clinic, up the stairs. “I’m glad he agreed to
see somebody, Colonel. He won’t talk here, even in the required
counseling sessions.”

Beck said, “I’m glad, too,” still surprised
that Lela had called him. “I hope I can help.” Julie walked him
down the hall to a big conference room off of which was the clinic.
“You take it from here.”

Beck stood in the doorway watching Lela and
the soldier. They were working without talking, writing down
inventory, with some soft rock seeping out from a jukebox. Despite
the gravity of the situation, he took a minute to notice how the
khaki of her cropped-off pants clung to her nicely toned bottom and
how her shirt rose just a bit when she lifted her arms. A small
patch of delicious-looking skin peeked out.

He cleared his throat. “Hi, there.”

Both turned. Lela’s expression was one of
pure pleasure. The soldier’s was not. She said, “Hi, Beck,” walked
over to him and took his hand. Her touch skimmed along his nerve
endings. Until he saw the dark mark on her neck. It took all his
reserve not to comment, which would hurt the boy. “Come in and meet
Nick.”

Pivoting, Nick nodded to him. “Colonel.”

“
Just make it Beck. We’re out of
theater.”

The boy relaxed. “Yes, sir.” Habits were hard
to break, Beck knew.

He glanced at Lela.

“
There’s an empty office down the hall.
You can go there. I’ll finish up here.”

“
Can you stay until we’re done?” Beck
asked. “I’d like to talk to you.”

Soon, Beck and Nick settled into comfortable
office chairs belonging to one of the case managers. A veteran flag
and an American flag stood post in the corners. The desk was piled
with papers. A good-sized window let in the late afternoon sun.

Beck watched the guy for a minute. God, he
was young. He’d probably been a teenager when 9/11 happened.

When Nick didn’t start talking, Beck did. “So
you just had an attack?”

He nodded.

“
They’re horrific, aren’t
they?”

Finally Nick spoke. “Yeah. Lela said you had
one this week.”

“
You think it’s a full
moon?”

The boy laughed. Then sobered. “I hate them.
And I can’t control them. It kills me.”

“
I’m with ya there, kid.”

“
How do you function?”

“
One day at a time. If it’s any
comfort, they do abate the longer you’re back. If you get help,
that is.”

He motioned around the office. “I’m
here.”

“
But Julie says you don’t talk to
anybody about your PTSD.”

He looked away, out the window; Beck tracked
his gaze, saw a hawk fly by. “If you only knew what I’ve done in
the middle of them.”

“
Let’s see. Hit your wife? Hurt your
kid? Endangered the lives of those you love? Yeah, Nick, I’ve done
it, too. But you gotta manage this thing or it’ll win. The fucking
terrorists will win. We didn’t go over there to fight so they could
win once we got back in the world.”

Huge tears welled in Nick’s eyes. Beck
remembered trying to battle those back, as Nick was. “I can’t do
it.”

“
Yes, you can. You don’t want to be the
statistic that says every eighty hours, a vet commits
suicide.”

Nick stared down at his hands. “I understand
why.”

Hell. He wasn’t equipped for this, though
he’d put in place some counseling in theater for his men and women.
“Are you suicidal, Nick?”

His head rose and he met Beck’s gaze straight
on. “I think about it. Especially when my buddy Billy died three
months after I got home. I didn’t want to live anymore,
either.”

“
Sorry about your friend. And my guess
is more vets think about suicide than we realize, especially
initially. Do you have a plan?”

“
No. I just want to die sometimes. When
something bad happens or I think about Billy.”

“
I understand. I had several friends
who died over there. Can you talk to the therapist at the shelter?
I’m not qualified give you the clinical advice you need about those
feelings.”

“
I could.”

“
What’s stopping you?”

A heavy sigh came out of him. “It hurts to
think about what I did.”

Beck chose his words carefully. “Life hurts
in general. More when you just get home. But it can get better. It
did for me.”

“
You had an attack this week. Lela said
you go to the same support group she does.”

“
I did, and it just about kills me when
I have them, too. But you must know you never get rid of the
condition.”

“
Yeah, Lela says that, too. You just
manage the symptoms.”

They talked a while longer, then Nick slumped
back in his chair. “I’m whipped. I want to sleep.”

“
Good idea. Will you see the shrink
here, Nick?”

“
I will tomorrow.”

“
Fine. I’ll let Julie know. I have to
tell her about your feelings.”

“
I hear ya. I guess I don’t care if she
knows now. What I’m doing isn’t working so far.”

After he stopped by to see the director, who
put Nick on a suicide watch, Beck returned to the clinic. He found
Lela, sitting on a chair, an ice pack to her neck, eyes shut. Some
romantic song was playing on the radio and he shook his head.
Quietly, he closed the door and leaned against it. “You’ve had a
hell of a week.”

She looked over at him, gave him a sad smile.
“Yep, I have. You, too.”

He dropped down on a chair opposite her. “You
know about the fire. The baby and old man.”

She nodded. “I worked on the young girl.” Her
throat worked. “It was heartbreaking.”

“
Hell of a thing. So much death
around.”

“
It makes you want to live your life
better. More fully.”

He watched her. At a crossroads, he knew a
lot depended on what he did now. But she was right. Life was short.
Rising, he went to her, drew her up from the chair and lightly
gripped her shoulders. The ice pack fell to the floor with a thud
and she grasped on to him, too.

“
Which is why I’m going to do this…”
Leaning in, he inhaled the scent of soap and shampoo and maybe some
lotion she used. Then he brushed his lips gently over her bruise,
whispered, “…and head out, before we both do something we
regret.”

He’d done harder things than leaving her
alone in that small room. But as he jogged down the steps to the
first floor, Beck couldn’t remember any of them.

At the third meeting of the offshoot,
Survivors with Kids, Harrison had said, “Research shows that groups
which get together people with similar problems increases healing
among its members significantly. I’d like to try it with your
kids.”

Which was how they ended up at Sea Breeze
Amusement Park on the outskirts of Hidden Cove. Thankfully, the May
morning had dawned bright and warm, though they’d chosen a Sunday,
so the place would be crowded later. Lela watched from a distance
as Harrison spoke to his little charges about why they were here.
The twelve of them—a good mix of boys and girls—concentrated on
Jack like he was the most popular video game available.

“
It’s something, isn’t it?”

Lela turned to find Beck had come up to her.
She’d purposely not searched for him in their group after she
arrived. And—no fair!—he wore sage-green shorts and a T-shirt to
match that made his eyes the color of jade. Truth be told, she,
too, had dressed carefully, in a coral-pink-and-white sundress that
swirled at her knees. “Um, what did you say?”

Giving her a questioning look, he answered,
“It’s amazing how Harrison has the kids mesmerized.”

“
The topic interests them. I think PTSD
is on their minds all the time, even if they can’t identify it for
what it is.”

“
I guess. Even Tommy didn’t give me any
grief about coming. How about Josh?”

“
Josh does about anything I ask him
to.”

“
Lucky you.”

She shook her head, her loose hair brushing
her shoulders and back, like a lover’s caress. “Not so much. He
could use a little rebellion.”

Talk ceased and Beck stood next to her, arms
folded across his chest, as they watched the goings-on. He must
have just showered, because Lela could smell his soap mixed with
man, and it brought all her senses to red alert.

“
Did you have to wear that dress?” he
asked when Harrison got the kids laughing at something he’d
said.

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I was
just thinking the same thing about your clothes.”

“
At least we’re on the same page.” His
tone was sardonic. “Right? About our feelings…”

Glancing up at him then, she found that his
green gaze, directed full wattage at her, had darkened. She
wondered if his eyes did that when he… She halted the thought.
“Yes.”

He jammed his hands in his shorts pocket.
“Why the hell do the fates keep throwing us together?”

“
The fates are cruel.”

“
Hmm. Our kids will probably meet up
today and become best friends, then we’ll have to deal with
that.”

She chuckled. It was better to joke about
their situation than to be on the verge of tears over their
inability to be together.

As Harrison continued to explain how the day
would go, Lela noticed Josh sitting alone. Damn it, she wished he’d
socialize. Finally, the talk ended with an admonition to have fun
and mingle. Heads popped up and turned, kids looking for their
parents. Soon, two little boys raced toward them. One must be
Beck’s son. In fact, he was a miniature Beck, adorable in a green
shirt and denims. “Can we go on the roller coaster?” he asked
Beck.

“
Where’s your manners? Tommy, this is
Mrs. Allen.” He bent down to look a shorter Josh in the eyes. “And
you must be Josh.”

Literally, her son hid behind his mother’s
skirt.

“
Hi, Tommy,” Lela put in. “Josh, this
is Mr. Sloan.”

“
Everybody calls him Beck,” Tommy told
them.

Beck ruffled Tommy’s hair, and the boy backed
away a bit. Then he turned to his son. “Sure, we can go on the
roller coaster.” He rolled his eyes. “My favorite.”

“
At least it’s not the flume ride,”
Lela put in, “where you get wet.”

Tommy’s eyebrows rose. “There’s a ride where
you get wet?”

“
Let’s go before Mrs. Allen gets me
into more trouble.”

Lela watched him walk away, feeling an
incredible sense of loss. Josh took her hand. “Why do you like him,
Mom?”

Uh-oh. “He’s a nice man. And he served his
country, like your dad.”

“
Is he sick, too?”

Stopping, Lela asked, “What do you mean?”

“
Grandpa told me dad’s
sick.”

“
Well, yes, he is. Beck isn’t as sick
as dad, but you heard Dr. Harrison. We’re all here for the same
reason.”

“
Can we go to the games?” Obviously,
he’d gotten enough information. “I like Skee-Ball.”

“
Sure, honey. We can do anything you
want.”

It turned out Skee-Ball was so popular, each
kid had to take a ticket and wait for his turn. Josh said he wanted
to get in line alone, and Lela thought that was progress for her
shy son; she retreated to a bench in the shade, where she could
keep an eye on him. She noticed Josh say something to the girl
ahead of him, which was great.

Five minutes passed and Josh had moved up to
about halfway in line. Raising her face, Lela took pleasure in the
sun, the warm breeze and the cloudless sky until she sensed someone
watching her. She opened her eyes to find Christian Singer
transferring his gaze to a little girl. The child also got in line.
Christian pivoted and a smile spread across his face as he headed
toward her. “Hey, Lela. Small world, I guess.”