Blue Like Elvis (27 page)

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Authors: Diane Moody

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance

BOOK: Blue Like Elvis
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Sandra hugged me,
too. “We’ll be in the building. If you need me, just have me paged, okay?”

“I will. Thanks,
Sandra.”

As they left,
Tucker suggested we take our conversation somewhere more private. We decided on
the hostess office since no one would be there. After we entered and turned on
the lights, we each took a sofa in the back office and resumed where we’d left
off.

“Look, Shelby. I’m
not trying to be mean or obstinate here. I’m trying to do what’s best. For both
of us. And I just think the police will be able to tell you the facts much
better than I can.”

I folded my legs
under me and tried to get a grip. “I appreciate that. I do. I realize I came
down on you awfully hard when we—when I . . . And no offense,
but right now I have to think about Jimmy. If it causes another rift between
us, so be it. I
have
to know.”

 He studied me for
a moment then gave in. “If that’s your preference—”

“It is.”

“Shelby, he was
drunk. His blood alcohol level was at 0.15. More than twice the legal limit. I
doubt he had any idea he was walking down the middle of Union. I doubt he had a
clue
where
he was.”

I stared at him,
trying to keep my mind open.

“And . . .”
He paused.

“Go on.”

“They found marijuana
on him. A pretty big stash of it. Along with some pills which we suspect are
amphetamines. I’d guess speed. Who knows what the toxicology report may show when
it comes back.”

I dropped my head
in my hands.

“I wish I didn’t
have to tell you this, especially after everything we’ve been through.”

I nodded, my head
still in my hands. “Oh, Jimmy.”

I felt the warmth
of his hand on my back as he took a seat next to me. “I’m so sorry, Shelby.”

“No. No, I’m the
one who should be apologizing.” I looked up at him as a tear spilled down my
cheek. “You tried to tell me, and I wouldn’t listen. Oh Tucker, if only I hadn’t
been so stubborn! If only I had listened instead of snapping your head off.
Maybe I could have helped Jimmy instead of  . . . of
 . . .”

“We can talk about
all that later. Right now you just need to be there for Jimmy. Neither of us
really know what’s been going on with him. God knows he’s been through hell
during the war. They all have. But at least he’s alive. He’s going to recover.
And then we can get him some help.”

I wiped my tears
away,
so
sick of them. I tried to think of what to say, but I couldn’t
stand it another minute. I wrapped my arms around him, burrowing my head on his
shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He held me for the
longest time in the silence of that small room. “There’s a lot we need to talk
through, but I’ve got to get back to work. I’ve got another 24 hours on my
shift. But when I get off, I’d like to go somewhere we can talk. Are you open
to that?”

“Yes, of course. I’m
not leaving. My parents are due anytime, so I’ll be with them until then. At
least until Jimmy is moved to his own room.”

As we stood to go,
he pulled me into his arms and held me tight. “I’m here for you, Shelby. Please
let me.”

I nodded against
his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head then was gone.

C
hapter 39

 

The next 24 hours seemed
like a blur to me now. Mom and Dad finally arrived. They were frantic by the
time they finally walked into the hospital. We had a good cry together as I
filled them in on everything—including Jimmy’s troubled road. They were shocked
then deeply grieved that they’d missed any of the warning signs. As was I.
Jimmy was moved to a private room on Twelve around midnight on Sunday. We
immediately moved in with him, not willing to leave his side.

I couldn’t help
thinking of all my patients whose family members stayed with their loved ones around
the clock. And I thought of those with no visitors at all. Hospitals could be a
place of comfort in the worst of circumstances, but they could also be one the
loneliest places on earth.

When Jimmy finally
came around he wept openly, seeing us all there, and didn’t stop crying for a
long, long time. The accident had opened a wound that was much deeper than any
of those on his body. He poured out a story filled with unimaginable, horrific
scenes played out in the jungles of Vietnam, over and over throughout his tour
of duty. He shared the nightmares that consumed him, most filled with endless
visions of floating body parts and the empty stares of buddies who never made
it home. He wept as he told of the gut-wrenching fear he faced every second he
was there . . . and the blessed, numbing effects of the alcohol
and drugs he willingly turned to.

But we were
probably more shocked when he admitted lying to us about his extended tour of
duty. He stayed in that part of the world because he was too afraid to come home.
Too afraid to let his family know the ugly truth. The grip of his addictions
held allurement; going home scared him to death. Even though his tour of duty
was over, he’d basically wandered around Thailand, Malaysia, and the
Philippines for most of those two years after the fall of Saigon. Occasionally
he’d find a job to make a little money, but mostly he just roamed those foreign
soils and got high.

For more than two
hours, he aired out the haunting memories and anxieties that still chased him. He
told us of waking up on a street in a small village as little children poked
sticks at him and dogs sniffed him. He had no clue how he got there or what
he’d done for the previous ten days. That’s when he decided he had to clean
himself up, get his act together, and go home. And that’s just what he did. He
slowly weaned himself off the worst of the drugs, started running to get back
in shape, and finally put a plan in place to get himself back home.

“Wait a minute,” I
said. “If you were no longer in the Army, how did you get a hop back stateside
on a military plane?”

“I’m a veteran
now, Moonpie. I knew I could get a lift if I talked to the right people. I just
made a few phone calls and called in a few favors.”

I thought back to
the day I’d picked him up at the base in Millington. He’d been wearing his Army
fatigues. Carrying an Army duffel. He looked so healthy and tan and had obviously
been working out. But that had all been nothing more than a grand performance,
staged to make us think he was finally released from his military deployment
and perfectly fine.

How easily we’d
been duped.

Except Tucker,
that is. He’d been able to see what none of the rest of us could—a crack in the
armor of Jimmy’s well-orchestrated façade.

When Jimmy finished,
we smothered him with love and assurances, our own tears mingling with his.

The healing had
begun.

Tucker called Monday
morning and asked if I would have dinner with him Tuesday night. My parents had
booked a room at a hotel near the hospital; Mom and Dad taking turns staying
nights with Jimmy. By then, the thought of being away from Baptist sounded good
to me. Really good.

He took me to Frank
Grisanti’s over on Main, a quaint and cozy Italian place where Dean Martin
tunes played quietly in the background. We dined on steaming plates of pasta
and crusty garlic breadsticks. And I was overwhelmed with relief as we quickly
fell back into rhythm with each other.

“This is nice.
Thanks for inviting me, Tucker.”

“You’re welcome. I’m
glad you and your parents had a breakthrough with Jimmy.”

“Well, it’s a
start. He knows he needs serious counseling to deal with all the demons he
brought home with him, but it seems like he’s genuinely ready to start.”

“That’s half the
battle. Just admitting you need help. Good for him.”

We talked a while
longer, then I pushed my near-empty plate aside and folded my napkin. “Are we
okay, Tucker?”

He took a sip of
water and set his napkin aside. “I think so. But we need to clear the air. You
up for that conversation?

“I am if you are.”
My heart rate spiked, but I knew we needed this to happen.

“Then let me just
put it out there. I have to be completely honest with you, Shelby. It
killed
me how quickly you threw us away. We had an argument. That happens. All
relationships hit road bumps now and then. But the minute it happened, you were
done with me. You wouldn’t take my calls. You avoided me at the hospital, until
I finally got the message. And I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe
you’d give up on us that way. And what I need to know is why? Why were you so
ready to bolt the first time we had a fight?”

I lowered my eyes,
avoiding his penetrating stare. “That’s a fair question, and one I’ve asked
myself many times over the past few weeks. I wish I knew. I really do, Tucker.
Initially, I think I was so shocked by what you’d told me about Jimmy—and it
made me crazy, wanting to defend my brother.”

“Which I
understand. Blood is thicker than water, isn’t that what they say?”

I looked back up
at him. “Yes, but I’m no idiot. It’s no secret that a lot of our guys came home
with problems, and not just war fatigue. But I could not, in my heart of
hearts, believe Jimmy would ever do something so stupid.”

“In all fairness,”
he interrupted, “under the circumstances, I wouldn’t call it ‘stupid’—he just needed
help to deal with what had happened to him but he didn’t know how to get it.”

“Maybe you’re
right. I don’t know. But after we argued that day, I should have searched my
soul and at the very least, considered the possibility.
Regardless
of
the fact he’s my brother. We’re all frail at different times in our lives. How
could I not even allow myself to consider the possibility that Jimmy could have
succumbed to the pressures around him? How could I be that naїve?

“But instead of
coming to terms with that, I spent the last few weeks stewing over what I
considered a cruel, unfounded attack on my brother. I was more willing to shoot
the messenger than even consider that the message could be valid. It was a
childish reaction and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He reached for my
hand.

“As for bolting so
quickly, I don’t know. I was so sure I’d finally learned to trust again. I have
Dr. Love to thank for that. But apparently I wasn’t as secure as I thought I
was. I think I just freaked at this first rip in our relationship. I was
scared, Tucker. Scared you weren’t the man I thought you were. Scared that if I
didn’t turn and run, I’d stand by and watch my heart get trampled all over
again.”

He sighed heavily.
“But surely you knew me better than that? You have to know I’d never trample
your heart.”

I laced my fingers
through his, swallowing back a lump in my throat. “No, Tucker, I didn’t know.
But that’s because I felt a crack in my new resolve. It felt like the ground
beneath me was starting to give way again. And I was simply scared out of my
wits.”

He rubbed the top
of my hand with his thumb. “So what are we going to do? How can we go forward
if every time we have an argument or hit a snag along the way, I have to worry
about you taking off again? How can I earn your trust, Shelby?”

I didn’t answer
right away. Was it really possible for me to trust him so completely that I’d
never turn tail and run again? I wanted to believe I could. Oh, how I wanted to
believe it.

I had trouble
finding my voice when I finally spoke. “Let me try. Give me another chance.
Will you?”

He looked into my
eyes, but I was sure he could see right through to my soul. “Shelby, I love
you. And I might as well tell you—I have
always
had a special place in my
heart for you.”

My head jerked. “What?”

“All those years
Jimmy and I used to torment you when we were kids? At least on my part, it was
all an attempt to get your attention and try to make you like me.”

I chuckled. “And
somehow you thought putting a frog in my underwear drawer was the way to do
that?”

He laughed. “Hey,
I was only twelve at the time. What would you expect?”

“You’re serious? I
had no idea. I thought you were just playing the part of Jimmy’s
partner-in-crime, always coming up with schemes to make my life miserable.”

“And I can’t
imagine how you might have thought that . . .” He fashioned a
face of innocence. “Nothing but a schoolboy’s clumsy crush.”

I sat back in my
chair. “You have no idea how this confession of yours has set my world off its
axis. I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you love me,
Shelby.”

My heart began
playing a tympani solo, the driving beat nearly taking my breath away. But I
wasn’t about to blow it this time. “I do love you, Tucker. I have for a long
time now. I only wish I’d told you sooner.”

A huge smile
beamed back at me. “Now’s as good a time as any. I’m just happy to finally hear
you say it.” He leaned over and placed the most gentle kiss on my lips . . .
the most gentle, perfect kiss. As he leaned back, he added, “There’s just one
more thing I’d like to hear you say.”

“Yeah? And what’s
that?”

“Say you’ll marry
me.”

I’d held them in
as long as I could—those wretched, pesky tears. But hearing those words kicked
the floodgates wide open. I felt the tears flow freely down my face as I
answered. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you! Nothing could make me happier. I love you,
Tucker Thompson.”

He was on his feet
and before I could blink, he took my hand, helped me up and into his arms. He
kissed me and kissed me and kissed me again, completely oblivious to the other
patrons in the small restaurant. And I knew if I died that very moment, I would
die the happiest woman on earth. He hugged me so tight, I think I wheezed
through most of our kisses. Suddenly he broke away, reached for a spoon, and
tapped his water glass repeatedly.

“Ladies and
gentlemen, if I could have your attention?” He paused just long enough for them
to turn our way, then lifted our hands in the air. “SHE SAID YES!”

The room broke
into applause and we laughed so hard, we couldn’t speak. When the applause died
down, Tucker paid the bill and we were out of there.

“C’mon, Moonpie. I
think it’s about time we spread some good news for a change, don’t you?”

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