Chapter 28 Adam
Currently Playing: Golden Slumbers by The Beatles
***
It still felt weird that Rachel was connected to my family and friends in a way that wasn’t through me.
But it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she was at Romfuzzled tonight, propped up in one of those tiny skirts, with two small pink bows tied in her hair and her head tossed back in laughter at whatever my sister was whispering to her. They sat in a large round booth in the back like normal, with Nathan on one side of Calla and Rachel on the other. My head swiveled to the bar to see Luke making drinks and Layla ringing up tickets. Crew was talking to a blonde at the bar, and by the look on her face, things were not going as he planned.
I opted for the bar first in an attempt to give my racing heart just one damn minute to calm down before going to our usual table. My fingers curled, knuckles tapping against the wooden bar top.
Luke looked my way, dipping his chin and readjusting his glasses. He set two beers in front of the couple down the row before heading my way.
“Whatcha drinking tonight?” he asked, but his hand was already reaching for a beer glass in a freezer below him.
“Water.”
He looked up at me and curled a brow, but shrugged one shoulder and grabbed a bottled water from behind him before placing it in front of me. I knew better than to allow a drop of alcohol into my body while Rachel was around. It allowed my mind to share things that I didn’t give it permission to.
The seat next to me swirled around, and I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
“Hiya, Sailor.”
The number of times I told Rachel that I was rarely on ships and that I flew pretty much everywhere was insurmountable, but she knew it made my eyebrow twitch every time, so she kept it going. It was the same reason I called her Stevie.
“Hello.” I dipped my chin and took a sip of water.
“How’s the bike?”
“Good.”
“Good.”
Luke eyed us, looking back and forth before setting down the glass he was drying and slowly walking away without turning around.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming tonight.” Her finger twirled in a circle against a bead of water dripping off my glass.
“I didn’t know I was until the last minute. Figured you’d probably be here too.”
Rachel hummed. “Well, it’s good you’re here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I was about to order straight whiskey, and I wasn’t sure anyone was going to stop me.”
I snorted, a small laugh rumbling through my midsection. “Yeah, probably for the best that I’m here, then.”
My smile tilted up further at that, my eyes not leaving hers.
Sitting on the wooden bar top, her phone buzzed between us. Curiosity got the best of me when I saw Graceful Care Nurse Line.Rachel’s hands scrambled to answer, almost knocking over both of our drinks in the process.
“This is Rachel Clarke,” she answered in a rushed tone.
I couldn’t hear the caller, despite how hard I was attempting to listen in. But her responses alone made it clear there wasn’t any good news.
“How bad?”
“Is it the same as last time?”
“What is he specifically asking for?”
“Okay, tell him I’m on the way. Wait—no, don’t. It may backfire, just…I’ll be up there in a minute.”
The call dropped, and I was already getting to my feet.
Rachel sighed as the phone fell to her lap, her shoulders drooping. “I gotta go.”
I wanted to comfort her, wanted to say it was going to be all right and that she didn’t have to carry the burden of taking care of her dad on her own, but I couldn’t. My tongue held back, the words sitting right at the edge of it like raiders trying to break down a security wall.
“I’ll drive” was all I managed to get out, reaching for my keys in the process.
She nodded without protest, and we ran out to the side door and over to my bike. I opened the extra storage, where the smaller helmet with a pink heart sticker—not my choice—sat.
“You had my helmet in there?” She pulled it out and twisted it around.
There were a handful of times in the past that Rachel had called me needing a ride, her tiny car breaking down after she pushed the limits of ‘yes, my car is on E, but how far could I really push this thing?’. Now that I had the bike, I figured it was best to always keep it on me.
My hands reached to close the compartment, but it was too late. Her eyes had already caught sight. “And my favorite sweatshirt?”
I wasn’t aware that it was her favorite, not really. But the few times she had been to my house, she had complained that I must have been cold-blooded and that my apartment was “colder than the set of Happy Feet.” This sweatshirt was the one she grabbed from my coat closet. She would settle it over her and let it fall around her upper thighs. I hadn’t considered it mine from that first day forward.
I put on my helmet, closing the shield so she couldn’t see my eyes. “Yes.”
My leg swung over the bike and I settled on the seat as I started it. Rachel was silent behind me for a moment before I eventually felt her dip onto the seat, her thighs pressing against me and warmth climbing in my skin.
Once the motor was warm enough, I looked over my shoulder as she adjusted her helmet, making sure she tightened everything correctly. My right hand reached behind me and gave two firm taps to her thigh. She returned it with her arms wrapping around my waist and a quick squeeze to my stomach. It was a silent language we’d created over the several joy rides we’d been on before.
“You ready?”
“Take me.”
I dipped my chin and let my hand rest on the throttle. Rachel’s hands held me tight.
I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when Rachel said her dad was having a rough day. When my grandmother’s case of dementia got to be all-consuming, she was numb. Near the end, the only thing that changed her mood was music. My mom insisted on playing the soundtrack to the original Cinderella movie. Needless to say, it was a little awkward when nurses would come in to see me playing “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” by Nana’s side table. Other than that, she was barely even awake, drifting in and out of conversation like it was all a simple daydream.
But Rachel’s dad was younger, newer to all of this, and although you could see the confusion on his face, he was also strong. His military background was apparent. The guy was still built like a tank. Rachel claimed it was because he refused to sit still. She said that it helped him from focusing on the unknown too much. Apparently he was one of the very few in the complex who took advantage of the gym there. Said he usually had a few older people in the background cheering on his sets.
The odd part of it all was that every time I did come to visit her dad with her, Rachel always had this list of things to expect. She’d blabber about him not remembering names or asking how your day had been twelve times in a thirty minute span. How, depending on his day, he may have refused to eat anything and may look more drained, or he may be passed out on a recliner from overeating. She’d warn me about his eyes sometimes glossing over, like he was unreachable.
But this time, she didn’t say a word about what to expect. I suspected it was because she herself had no idea what we were walking into.
I hopped off the bike once it was parked, setting my helmet in the case on the back. Rachel took hers off, her blond hair frayed and staticky at the ends. I reached for her helmet, placing it directly next to mine before closing and zipping up the storage.
Rachel’s face was pale, her movements staggered and her eyes darting.
“It’ll be okay.” I nodded at her, needing some kind of reaction I’d recognize. She nodded back.
It wasn’t enough to make me feel better. My skin crawled when I saw her like this, so helpless. Before I could fully process it, my hands reached for her, our fingers linking together. I squeezed. She squeezed back. It still felt distant.
We walked to his complex. One nurse was standing outside the door with a clipboard. His door was slightly cracked, and another nurse was holding it open. He was grunting, mumbling something in the distance.
“Yes, sir. We understand.”
A rough groan fell on the other side of the door, and Rachel’s fingers stilled before they dropped mine entirely.
She walked inside, nodding at the younger-looking nurse there with a tight smile.
“I’ll be outside.” The nurses gave us this apologetic look, and I followed Rachel inside.
Jack was sitting in the black recliner in the far corner of his living space, next to a stack of records and a player that looked almost identical to the one in his daughter’s apartment. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, with one leg shaking. His eyebrows were lowered, his lips in this deepened frown.
“Hey, Dad.” Rachel walked around his couch, casually leaning against one arm as though this were any other visit.
Jack’s eyes lifted to his daughter, and you could see them lighten for a moment, before going gray again.
He scoffed. “They called you?”
Rachel nodded, and his eyes scanned to me, looking me up and down in assessment. I wasn’t needed here. I knew that. It was probably far too personal for me to even be around. But surely if she didn’t want me here, she would have said that. Or she would have refused to let me drive her or forced me to stay outside with the nurses.
But then again, the anger in his eyes—the eyes of a man who’d witnessed far more than he deserved—was taking over. He wouldn’t hurt his daughter. I knew that too. But a confused prior-service man was something I understood well, and I knew things could go south easily in situations like this.
Jack shook his head. “Ridiculous,” he spat. “I ask a couple questions, and they start sending everyone in here like some kind of SWAT team.”
Rachel mustered the smallest of smiles, this wavy grin that wobbled slightly. “I understand, I do—”
“Do you?” His voice raised. “Does anyone? I’m like an animal in a damn cage. No way in or out and people circling me all day. No one will tell me where my wife is, and they all treat me like I’m some kind of mental patient.”
Her back straightened, and every fiber of my being begged to be beside her. To calm her tightened brow, to caress her hip and whisper to her that it was okay. She nodded. “Okay, well, give me just a second, and I’ll come right back, okay?” Her whisper was just enough to make him nod at her.
She gave me a look and mouthed. “Can you stay?”
I nodded and went to sit on the couch as she slipped outside to talk with the nurses.
An animal in a cage. I knew how that felt. It was probably the only thing Jack and I had in common, other than the fact that we both cared for his daughter.
After deployments, trying to settle back into some kind of a normal lifestyle felt impossible. I thrived on routine and was hardly ever handed it. I needed instruction, a guide, anything. Without it, I felt lost, cornered and backed into a wall that left me no way out. It was suffocating.
“You gonna tell me the same thing too?” Jack asked, throwing himself back into the recliner with a glare my way. “Want to tell me to ‘calm down’?”
I crossed my arms. “Wasn’t gonna say anything.”
“Good.” He crossed his arms back.
We sat in silence, glaring at each other across the coffee table. Rachel’s soft voice mumbled outside the door, low enough for her words to be unrecognizable.
A distraction. That would be good, right?
I looked over at the stack of vinyls, recognizing the one on top as the same that Rachel had played in the car before.
“You like The Romantics?”
When his eyes squinted at me, I dipped my chin to the stack.
He glanced at me, to the record, and back. His nose scrunched the same way Rachel’s did when someone told her that Eric Clapton was overrated. “I don’t care much for you being so nosy.”
“Well, I don’t care much for you making my girl cry, and yet here we are.”
His eyes widened at the blow. And truthfully I didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh. Jack was a good guy. He was confused and disoriented. I would be a grumpy ass if I was in his position too. It wasn’t exactly his fault. That didn’t make me any less upset at the small pool of water that had been forming in her eyes.
I didn’t exactly mean for the whole my girl thing to slip either. That would probably only confuse him more.
Although Rachel was mine. I wasn’t sure exactly how, though. Definitely not in that she was my girlfriend or really even what I would consider a friend. This was something more than that. As if her soul was tethered to mine. Even if she went off and married some rich golfer later on in life, she would still be mine.
Jack slumped his shoulders, looking out of his blinds to Rachel and the nurses talking outside. Whatever he saw must have shaken him a little, because the anger in his face was fading slowly.
He looked down at the pile of records and picked up the first one. He took it out of its sleeve and opened the player to set it on top. The needle slowly lowered, and a crisp guitar thrummed in the room. My shoulders relaxed a little. He wasn’t yelling. Wasn’t crossing his arms or glaring at me like I was his mortal enemy. That had to stand for something.
“Military?” he asked, looking at the tattoo on my upper arm.
I’d answered this before, of course, but I wasn’t going to mention that.
“PJ. Used to know a lot of SEALs before. Never really wanted to be one. Cool guys, though.”
He nodded and one lip curled slightly, his foot tapping against the rug as the music played next to him. “I miss that some days. The bond with your brothers out there and all.”
I knew what he meant. People that went through what we had together always came out stronger. I wasn’t a SEAL. That was an entirely different ball game. But I knew what it was like to be dropped into battle with only a few guys around you, not knowing if you’re going to save a life or cost you your own. There’s this bond that ties you together in a way that can’t evolve in your day-to-day friendships.
And yet, whatever I felt for Rachel was different from that too. Not necessarily stronger, but different.
“Yeah, I get that.” I nodded.
The song ended, and Jack picked up the needle, moved it back, and set it down to replay. “Rach loves this one.” He smiled to himself, and I took note to make any attempt possible to find a record like it, or at least to see if she already owned it.
At her name, I craned my head to the window. Rachel stood there, nodding along to what the nurse was saying and wiping occasional tears from her eyes but never letting them fall.
“So, when are you gonna propose to her?” Jack asked from his chair across the room.
The question rang around in my head for a moment as I watched Rachel cradling her face in her hands, chest heaving quickly.
I took a deep breath and replied.
“As soon as she lets me, sir.”