“As soon as you find a job close enough so you’ll still be within minutes of daddy’s protection.”
She stood furiously, wincing when the movement jarred her injured ankle. But because she refused to show him how much her carelessness had hurt, she ignored the pain and kept her chin high. “I’m going to my room. If you need anything during the night—get it yourself. That’s the way you prefer to do things, anyway.”
She thumped rapidly out of the room without giving him a chance to respond. Only when she reached her own room and slammed the door behind her did she admit to herself how disappointed she was that he hadn’t even tried to detain her.
Tommy looked as young and healthy as he had during their last leave together. They stood in the living room of Kyle’s mountain cabin, both dressed in flannel shirts and jeans and hiking boots, ready for an outdoor adventure.
“Nice place,” Tommy commented, looking around the sparsely decorated room. He nodded toward the big-screen TV. “How’s the reception?”
“Not bad,” Kyle replied, aware that something was strange about this conversation, but unable to decide exactly what was wrong. “I catch most of the games.”
“I guess that’s good—in lieu of a real life.”
“Don’t start with me, McDooley.” Kyle crossed the room and sank into his favorite chair—only then realizing that he hadn’t limped at all. He lifted a hand to his face, fingertips tracing his smooth left jaw. Unscarred. Why had he thought it should feel different?
“You think I’m going to tiptoe around your sensitive feelings the way everyone else has been doing the past few months?” Tommy grunted. “Get real, Reeves.”
“Look, I’ve had a tough time, okay?” he snapped, though at the moment he couldn’t remember what had been so bad. “And I’m getting tired of everyone implying that I’ve been moping around feeling sorry for myself.”
“Fine. So stop doing it.”
“That’s easy enough for you to say. You’re—”
What? He frowned in confusion, trying to complete the sentence, but unable to come up with the right word.
Tommy looked at him with a smile that might have held a touch of pity. “I want you to have more than this, Kyle.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kyle glanced around the room, noticing that the place looked somewhat emptier than usual, but still nice enough. “I’ve got everything I need here.”
“Everything you need, maybe—what about everything you want?”
“Like—?”
“Like someone to share it with. Someone to hold in the night. Someone to grow old with.”
Kyle felt his cheeks warm. He and Tommy never talked about sentimental stuff like this. “You’re the one who’s thinking about getting married. Not me.”
“I did want to be married, you know. To have kids, a nice home, a relationship like my folks have. Even when I did stupid things that threatened my relationship with Connie, I never doubted what I wanted for the long run. It’s what I want for you, too, buddy.”
“I suppose you’ve got someone all picked out for me?”
Tommy’s grin seemed to brighten the room. “Dude, I’ve done everything but throw her into your arms, already.”
Kyle crossed his arms over his chest and sank lower into his chair. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Kyle, my friend, you’re an idiot at times, but you’ve never been stupid. Do us both a favor and stop acting that way now. And, by the way, if I find out you’re holding back out of some sort of misguided survivor’s guilt—you know, denying yourself because you don’t think you deserve the things I never got to enjoy—that’s seriously going to piss me off. You knew me better than anyone else on earth, Reeves. Is that really what I would have wanted for you?”
“No,” Kyle admitted dully. “That’s the last thing you’d have wanted.”
His friend nodded in satisfaction. “Damn straight.”
“Tom, I—” There were so many things he wanted to say, but the words seemed to be jammed in his throat. “I know.” Tommy smiled again, more gently this time. “I know, buddy.”
Kyle swallowed hard.
Tommy turned his head, as if he’d just heard something. “I’ve got to go. Take care of my folks for me, Kyle. And let yourself be happy, okay? If not for yourself, then do it for me.”
“No, wait.” Suddenly panicky, Kyle started to rise, one hand half extended in his friend’s direction. “Don’t go. Damn it, wait, Tom. I’m not—we haven’t—Tommy!”