Liam's List (22 page)

“
Speaking of girlfriends.”
Tyler Kidd clapped my shoulder. “We heard all about your woman.
That’s one hell off of lioness you got on your hands.”

“
Tell us, Sykes,” Harmon
chimed in. “Is she a lioness in bed, too?”

Andrew Reed gave a low whistle. “I bet she’s
a wild one between the sheets.”

“
Go fuck yourselves.” I
lifted my glass and took a sip of my cranberry juice before
addressing the only woman at the table. “Pardon my
French.”

“
Pardon my manners!”
Harmon exclaimed. “Sykes, this is my wife, Angela.”

I nodded as though I’d already deduced
that.

“
Angela…” Harmon went on.
“This is the biggest badass in town—Lieutenant Liam
Sykes.”

Angela smiled at me, a warm and genuine
smile. “So where’s your girlfriend?”

Just then, Vivian appeared by my side. “Right
here,” I said. With a quick flex of my arm, I drew her close and
made the round of introductions.

Though Viv put on a gracious smile and said
hi to everyone, I noted the subtle tension in her shoulders. And I
saw by the reserve in her eyes that she was still racked with
nerves. And I understood; this night hadn’t exactly started out on
the right foot. Not for me and definitely not for her.

Apparently, Angela must have understood, too,
for she rose from her chair and linked an arm through Viv’s like
she’d known her for years.

“
Let’s go grab some
margaritas.” Angela patted her arm. “I could use some girl time
right now.”

As Vivian was being
dragged away from the table, she looked over her shoulder and cast
me a look as though to say,
Save
me.

Smiling, I mouthed the
words,
She won’t bite
.

As the night wore on and over the course of
more drinks, the conversation took a different turn. It grew darker
and considerably more melancholy.

I learned that both Harmon and Perez took a
cocktail of pills. Harmon was prescribed up to twelve medications a
day, depending on his level of anxiety and depression. Perez was on
Lexapro and Trazidone, and Reed was on Paxil, Prazosin, Lipitor,
sleeping pills, painkillers, anti-seizure meds, and a whole host of
other pills I’d never even heard of.

Kidd’s face clouded. “I’m on so many pain
meds I feel like I’m in a mental fog.”

Reed stated flatly, “I’m taking pills to get
up in the morning, pills to lower my cholesterol and blood
pressure, pills to pep me up in the middle of the day, pills to
help me sleep at night. I have migraines so severe I have to take
anti-seizure meds in the thousands of milligrams. On top of that,
I’m taking pain meds to help with my chronic back pain. And all
those pills I’m taking upset my stomach so I have to take more
pills to deal with that.”

“
Fuck, man.” I shook my
head. “You’re a walking, talking pharmacy.”

Reed just shrugged. “It’s what the doctor
prescribed.”

In the pause that followed, Harmon spoke in a
quiet voice, “I should have listened to my mom. She told me it
wasn’t me going into the army that she worried about. It was me
getting out.”

No truer words had ever been spoken. “Damn
straight,” Perez murmured.

I found myself looking around the table,
staring at all the eyes that had dulled in the space of a
blink.

Reed’s face drew tight and he tipped the last
of his beer into his mouth. “You know what I want?” His voice
turned a shade darker. “I want to go back to Iraq and step on an
IED so my wife and kids can get the money. I can’t take living like
this no more. It’s no way to fuckin’ live. I feel like a stranger
in my own home, in my own city, in my own country.”

The more alcohol consumed, the more was
revealed. “My girlfriend left me,” Perez slurred. “The day I got
back from Iraq, she greeted me with the keys to our apartment and
told me she was leaving me.” Bitter lines bracketed his mouth. “And
then she did. For good.”

“
That ain’t shit.” Tyler
Kidd gave a tired laugh. “My wife served me divorce papers in
Iraq.”

This took all of us by surprise. Not one of
us had known about this.

Sure, I’d heard of soldiers receiving Dear
John letters, but divorce papers—that was extreme. Couldn’t she
have waited until he got home?

“
I cried in my room.” Kidd
took a long pull from his beer. “Cried like a fuckin’ baby. Oh, and
she drained our bank account, too.” He pushed an envelope of air
through his teeth, a sharp, disgusted sound. “Spent all my money
while I was deployed.”

“
Sorry, man.” Perez
clasped Kidd in a brotherly embrace. “That bitch is
cold
.”

“
Have you guys heard ’bout
what happened to Jackson?” Reed said suddenly. “He lost his job,
his wife and kids, and now he’s living out of his car.”

Lifting my glass, I took a long drink and
fell into ponderous silence.

How long will it be before Jackson ends up
like that homeless Vietnam vet on the street corner, begging for
money?

How long will it be before I end up like
that homeless Vietnam vet on the street corner?

My gaze wandered to the bar, to Vivian. She
and Angela appeared to be in a deep conversation.

Am I being fair to Viv? Tying her down to a
loser like myself?

A hundred different thoughts and emotions
churned through my head before Harmon’s voice brought me back to
the present.

“
You guys met up with
Jackson lately?” he asked.

I shook my head, but Reed
gave a definitive nod. “I did,” he said. “Just last week.” He took
a slow breath before continuing. “He’s not the same Jackson, I can
tell you that much. And I hate to say this, but I can kind
of
get
why his
wife left him. Some days he can’t even remember who he is, where he
used to live, where he used to work. His mind is all fucked and
nobody can seem to fix it.”

Jackson was a good man. A great soldier. It
wasn’t fair.

How many jobs demanded the sacrifice of
sanity?

My throat constricted and I swallowed with
difficulty. “I guess the brain is the last frontier.”

“
What about Merrick?”
Harmon asked. “Any of you seen him?” Though his words were
addressed to the entire table, his gaze was fixed on me.

I was unable to look at him for a moment.
“I’ve been busy.”

“
He’s been asking us about
you,” Harmon said. “Merrick may be confined to a wheelchair, but
he’s doing good. And his mind is sharp as fuck. He wanted me to
tell you to get your sorry ass over there or he’d wheel his ass
over to your place.”

Schooling my face into an expressionless
mask, I stared into my empty glass.

I could feel Harmon watching me. I could feel
everyone at the table watching me.

“
He doesn’t blame you for
what happened.” Harmon’s voice went grave. “No one
does.”

Uneasy under the weight of his gaze, I pushed
a hand through my hair and inhaled sharply. Even if no one did, I
blamed myself. I would always blame myself.

It was one of the demons
I’d always live with
.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Vivian

Weeks went by, and though Liam was getting
progressively better, life with him was still an emotional roller
coaster. I decided I could choose to panic every time we hit a
bump, or I could just throw my hands up in the air and say, “Fuck
it! It’s all part of the ride.”

I had to accept that the
old Liam was gone. While I was always there for him and willing to
help when he needed me, I also had to accept my limits. And
his
limits.

I realized that everything I experienced in
life affected me, changed me, and in the end, it was up to me to
see the silver lining of each experience.

And my silver lining was that Liam was alive
and he was trying his best to rebuild his life.

I knew it took a lot out of him to get
through every day.

A lot of courage. A lot of therapy. A lot of
hope.

And a lot of emotional support from me, from
his mom.

But soon, I was going to have backup. Soon, I
was going to be getting my very own support system.

My heart was soaring and I was bouncing on
the balls of my feet, practically dancing with happiness because
Julian would be home in just a few hours.

Julian and I, we used to
be so tight, so
very, very
close. He was my protective big brother, picking
on me for his own entertainment yet beating up anyone else who
tried. He made me laugh so hard my sides split. He also teased me
until I cried and then wiped away my tears.

Our relationship could weather any quarrels,
sink any friendships, but it couldn’t survive the death of our
parents. We drifted apart, each of us grieving in our own separate
ways. Then Julian left for Iraq and I’d never heard from him
again.

He never bothered to call, never emailed or
Skyped—nothing.

But when Liam got injured in the blast,
Julian was the first person to call me. Slowly, he began reaching
out to me, helping to ease my worries, my anxieties. From time to
time, I’d get the occasional email from him, just telling me how he
was doing, asking me how things were going on the home front.

Sometimes he’d even send me random joke
emails in hopes of making me laugh. Perhaps he sensed I was going
through a hard time with Liam and didn’t want to add to my
troubles. Whatever his intentions were, I was grateful for his
support.

In the end, I got my big brother back again.
Another silver lining.

And I couldn’t wait to see
him. There was no other love like the love I had for my big
brother, and there was no other love like the love
from
my big
brother.

Even though our parents were no longer
around, they had given Julian and me the greatest gift in the
cosmic universe—each other.

I was busy getting the house in order,
running the Dyson up and down the hallways, industriously vacuuming
away, when I heard my phone ringing.

I dove for my cell phone and glanced at the
incoming number. “Julian?” I answered. “Where are you?”

“
Hey, sis.”
His voice had a rough, end-of-day quality to
it
. “I’m at the LAX airport right now. I’m
gonna head down to the suburbs for a bit and see one of my buddies.
Then I’ll rent a car and head on home.”

“
What time will you be
here?”

“
Probably around ten or
eleven. Don’t wait up for me.”

“
Um, of course I’ll be
up.” I clucked my tongue. “Since when do I go to bed before
midnight? And hello? I can’t wait to see you. And Liam can’t wait
either.”

“
All right, V.” I heard
the smile in his voice. And I loved it when he called me V. “I’ll
see you soon.” Then the line went dead.

Dazed, I stared at my phone and blew out a
puff of air. While I could happily chat for hours, Julian never
liked to spend more than a minute on the phone.

Oh well
. I chucked my cell phone into my bag and switched on the
Dyson.
We’d have plenty of time to chat
tonight.

It was almost two a.m. when the front door
opened and Julian walked in.

With a loud shriek, I launched myself into
his arms, clinging to his neck as he laughed and spun me
around.

When he released me, I took a step back so I
could get a better look at him.

The dark circles under his eyes betrayed his
fatigue, but aside from that, I thought he looked good. No scars,
no injuries, no broken bones.

He grinned largely. “How’s my Vivianna
Bumsquirt doing?”

“
Stop!” I playfully
punched his shoulder and he laughed. “Stop it! I hate it when you
call me that.”

“
Sthaap!
” Julian started mimicking me
in a nasally, helium-filled voice. “
Sthaap
it!
”

“
Humph,” I harrumphed,
putting my hands on my hips. “How old are you now?”

“
Older than you,” he
quipped. Then he moved around me and clasped Liam in a brotherly
embrace. “Wassup, brah.”

I stood back and smiled as I witnessed the
two men hugging it out like long-lost lovers.

“
Ahem.” I cleared my
throat loudly. “Now I’m starting to feel like a third wheel.” In
fact, the third wheel vibe was so overwhelming I was pretty certain
I was morphing into a tricycle.

But really, I should have
just kept my mouth shut because this only impelled them to amp up
their
bromance
.

“
I love you, man,” Liam
grunted.

“
I love you,
brah
,” Julian grunted
back. “We still going horseback riding tomorrow?”

“
Totes ma goats, man!”
Liam slapped him a high-five. “Totes ma goat!”

I opened my mouth, snapped it shut, and
stared at him.

I cut him a look.

An incredulous look.

One that said,
Did you really just say what I think you just
said? Did you just say totes ma goats?

“
Hey, Sykes,” Julian
called, jerking his chin at me. “Who’s that chick behind you
glaring at you all
cray-cray?
”