Chapter Forty-Eight Marion
forty-eight MARION
Hal, Stu, and Joey sat in the row behind Daniel and Marion, still gaunt but clean and happy. Marion watched all three like a hawk, on hand for any physical or mental doctoring, and wondered how they could possibly process everything. After months of unimaginable combat and survival in the jungle then weeks of abuse and starvation in a rotted old hut in the deep of Vietnam, they’d collapsed in a frantic but effective hospital in Da Nang. Now they sat on upholstered seats in an airplane and nodded every time a stewardess asked if they’d like something to eat or drink. They wore brave expressions, laughed when it was called for, but Marion feared it was too much.
Once they were buckled in and the Boeing 737 rolled noisily down the runway, the men’s nervous laughter and vulgar comments—which Daniel had happily joined in on—quickly died down. She couldn’t see their faces from where she sat, but from the tension in the air, Marion sensed a cautious, collective breath being held. Then they were flying, the familiar swoop in her belly easier to manage now than it had been two months ago.
That’s when she heard a quiet sob. It came from the aisle, where Hal sat. Reflexively, she started to rise, but Daniel’s hand lowered onto hers and held her in place.
“They need this,” he murmured. “They’re getting used to the idea that it’s over.”
Shortly after, she peeked behind and saw the men were asleep, leaning against each other. Daniel, too, had a calmness in his expression that she hadn’t seen before. An acceptance, she realized. An understanding that what he had lived and breathed and needed so badly was now in the past, though it would always haunt his present. They both knew that.
There was vulnerability as well. He, too, was getting used to the idea.
“How are you feeling, Marion?” he asked, curling his fingers around hers. “You just had the adventure of a lifetime.”
“I was just about to ask you the same question.”
“I beat you to it. What’s on your mind?”
“Not much right now,” she admitted. “I’m glad we’re going home.”
“Are you sorry you went?”
“Not on your life!”
He laughed. “No? Helicopter crash, near drowning, being a hostage, et cetera, et cetera…”
“I’m not saying it was a restful vacation.” She smiled softly, remembering. “But no, I couldn’t possibly be sorry. Before all this, I couldn’t even read mystery novels without leaving all the lights on. And now… well, once I recover, maybe I’ll try something else. Not Vietnam, but…”
She exhaled, picturing the hospital ward with five patients piled on one cot. The stink of cooking fires mingling with the reek of bandages in need of changing. The inconceivable composure she had seen, the stoic determination on parents’ faces as they held their mutilated babies. They were used to that life. They expected it.
“We were lucky,” Daniel murmured, reading her mind. “The hospital didn’t get bombed while we were there.”
She nodded. “I feel… I feel like I just spent a lifetime on another planet. I feel like landing in Toronto is going to feel odd.”
A stewardess was slowly making her way down the aisle. Her orange dress was cut well above her knees, accessorized with a striped belt and a silver pin on her collar in the shape of airplane wings. Her thick black hair had been back-combed into a loose beehive, and her makeup would have made Raquel Welch proud. When she paused at their row, Marion took in the young woman’s tall black boots and wondered how comfortable they were. Maybe she’d get herself a pair when she got home. Sassy could take her shopping for something… new.
The stewardess leaned down so her face was in Daniel’s, her false eyelashes blinking slowly. “May I offer you a drink, sir? A martini, perhaps?”
He glanced at Marion, who shrugged then nodded. She hadn’t had a martini in a couple of years, but it sounded like exactly what she wanted.
“My lady would like a martini, please, and I’ll have a beer.” The stewardess took a step down the aisle, but he stopped her. “Oh, and don’t wake the men behind me. They need their sleep. I’m sure they’ll order something real strong when they wake up.”
When the drinks arrived. Marion tasted hers and approved. She’d forgotten the nice, dry bite of a gin martini. Beside her, Daniel let out a satisfied sigh.
“Cold beer. What a miracle.”
One of the men snored quietly behind them, and it was a comforting sound.
“What are you going to do when you get back?” Marion asked.
“I’ve been trying not to think about that,” he admitted, taking a long gulp that just about finished the bottle. “I gotta find a place to live. I thought I might try to get the four of us into a place together. Might be good for all of us, you know, so we can talk about things.”
“Sassy might want Joey with her.”
“Joey’s a big boy. That’ll be up to him.”
“Of course.” She hesitated. “Are you going to check out the community health centres, do you think?”
He picked at the label on his beer bottle, easing up one corner. “Yeah. I will this time. I think I’ll be better able to cope now. Plus these guys will need me to show them it’s possible to move on. Can I go to whichever centre you’re at?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said, though she was sure there were rules about friends and family treating patients. She’d figure out what to do about that if the time ever came.
The stewardess breezed by, but he stopped her and held up his bottle. “Another?”
“Certainly, sir,” she said, taking the empty one.
Marion took another sip of her martini. “I’m going to take my time on this,” she said. “Not interested in getting drunk on a plane.”
He grinned. “I’d love to see you get drunk, Marion.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Ask Sassy. I just get silly.”
“Exactly. I’d love to see that.”
She wasn’t sure if it was the martini or the look in his eye, but a warm shiver ran through her at the thought. “You want to see me get silly?” she dared, gazing up from beneath her lashes.
“Roger that,” he said, his expression changing again, becoming more serious. “Marion, do you, I mean, when we’re back in the city and all, do you think that we…” He hesitated, biting his lower lip briefly. “I’d like to take you to dinner. A real one. You could even have lobster thermidor again, if you want.”
For weeks, an awareness had been building deep within Marion, rising through her chest and scaring her just enough that she had pushed it back down. It seemed like too much, then it seemed exactly right, but she’d been too afraid to say anything out loud. Now she searched his gaze, that sense of power rising within her again. Was there any reason why she shouldn’t say what was on her mind?
“I have a better idea,” she said shyly, shoving through her anxiety. “I’m a pretty good cook. And a good baker as well. How about I make dinner?” She took a deep breath, holding his gaze. Her face was on fire. “Then in the morning I’ll whip up some muffins. Or I could make eggs…”
The longer he stared, the hotter her face became. Had she just made a huge mistake? Was it too much? She had no idea. Had she ruined everything?
Finally, the corner of his mouth drew up in a careful smile. “Are you sure?”
She swallowed, holding his gaze. “Doctor’s orders.”