The War Within (31 page)

“A fitting final tribute. How would you like to be remembered when it’s your time?”

Natalie frowned as if she found the subject distasteful. “That’s a rather morbid question, don’t you think?”

“It’s the kind of question the soldiers used to discuss on an almost daily basis but you never would answer. Why?”

“For the same reason I refused to write my own obituary during a high school English assignment. I was afraid what I said or wrote would actually come to pass. I wanted my life to be beyond the scope of my imagination, not bound by what my fourteen-year-old mind managed to put on paper.”

“Has it?”

“Yes. Because when we left Vũng Tàu, I didn’t think I’d ever find myself sitting across from you again.”

Meredith’s heart stopped for a moment. Time seemed to stand still. She was transported back to Vietnam. Back to Vũng Tàu. She could feel Natalie’s lips on hers. Caressing. Exploring. Kissing her hello. Kissing her good-bye.

“
I want to be with you
,” Meredith had said that night, “
but I can’t. I just can’t.
”

She had wanted a family. She had wanted to live a “normal” life without the glare of accusing eyes questioning her choices. And Natalie had let her go. Now Meredith wanted—needed—Natalie to take her back. She didn’t know how much time she had left in this life, but she didn’t want to waste any more of it playing
what if
. She was ready now. Ready to stop existing and live—truly live for the first time.

A bell dinged in the kitchen, breaking the grip Natalie’s eyes held on her.

“Dinner’s ready,” Meredith said reluctantly. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Natalie followed her into the kitchen, where they fixed their plates. After they sat at the dining room table, Natalie unfolded her napkin and spread it in her lap. Meredith reached for her hand. They bowed their heads as Meredith asked the blessing.

“Lord, thank you for the food we are about to receive. Thank you for family. And thank you for friends long lost but newly found. For all these things, we pray in your name. Amen.”

“Amen,” Natalie whispered in a voice choked with emotion. She took a moment to gather herself before she attempted to say anything else. Smoothing her napkin with one hand, she lifted her fork with the other. “I’ve heard you talk about your granddaughter several times, but you’ve mentioned your daughter only in passing. Is there a reason for that?”

“Diana and I aren’t especially close. We never have been.”

“Are you estranged?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Our relationship is…complex. We’re like opponents in a political debate, saying how much we respect each other on one hand while refuting each other’s arguments on the other. The sad part is, no one wins.”

“Just like in an actual debate. Has it always been this way?”

“When Diana was born, the nurse placed her in my arms, I looked down at her, and I felt like I was meeting my best friend for the first time. As she began to grow up, it quickly became clear we were more like acquaintances. She was, without doubt, daddy’s little girl. She went to George for everything—approval, comfort, reassurance. I felt extraneous. The more I tried to build a relationship with her, the more she pushed me away.”

“Why?”

Meredith pushed what was left of her meal around her plate. “Because she realized very early on I was a fraud.”

Natalie arched her eyebrows, wordlessly inviting Meredith to explain what she meant by such a provocative statement.

“When I was younger, all I wanted to be when I grew up was a wife and a mother. You heard me say it more times than either of us could count. I eventually added more goals to the list, but getting married and starting a family seemed like the keys to my happiness. The keys that would lock the door on all the discontent I’d felt ever since I began to suspect I had feelings for other girls. When Diana was born, I had everything I thought I wanted, but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t want the life most people described as their ideal. I wanted the one I imagined when I danced with you one night in Saigon. I wanted the one you described to me one night in Long Binh. And I wanted to live my life with you. But how was I supposed to do that without hurting George or making Diana feel like she was a mistake?”

“The most admirable quality of a mother’s love,” Natalie said after a brief pause, “is her willingness to sacrifice anything for her child. In your case, you sacrificed your own happiness to make sure your daughter maintained hers. I always felt like I wasn’t enough for you. The way we left things in Vũng Tàu and the fact you didn’t reach out to me over the years seemed to confirm that notion. Now I realize you didn’t stay away because you didn’t want to be with me. You stayed away because you did.”

When Natalie took Meredith’s hand in hers, Meredith felt the distance between them begin to erode.

“When Jordan was born, I felt like I’d been granted a second chance. We immediately bonded in a way Diana and I never had. Then, when she came out to me and the rest of the family, I was overjoyed. Aside from being happy she had effortlessly come to terms with who she was and what she wanted, I suppose I saw the occasion as an opportunity to live my life vicariously through her. I might not have been able to have the life I wanted, but she could. So far, she’s doing just that. She’s had a few stumbles and made a few wrong turns along the way, but I think she’s learning from her mistakes.”

“What about you?” Natalie topped off their glasses of wine without releasing her grip on Meredith’s hand. “Have you learned from your mistakes?”

“Which ones?” Meredith spun her glass by its stem. The swirling contents caught the flickering light from the candles lining the table. “There have been so many, I’ve lost count.”

“It sounds like you’ve been down on yourself all these years because you were afraid you didn’t love your daughter enough when the truth is you love her too much.”

Meredith grew so still she barely remembered to breathe.

“You’re not a terrible mother, Meredith,” Natalie said, giving voice to Meredith’s greatest fear. “You’re the best. Selfless, kind, and generous to a fault.”

“How do you know?” Meredith asked tremulously.

“Because I know you.”

Meredith’s resolve melted. She covered her face with her napkin as heavy sobs wracked her body.

“You’ve always put everyone else’s needs ahead of yours,” Natalie said gently. “Isn’t it time you came first?”

“I keep telling myself I’m ready to do that. But every time I think about moving forward with my life, I wonder how my family will respond. At first, it was my parents’ reaction I was worried about. Then it was my siblings’. Now it’s my daughter’s. If Jordan didn’t respond favorably to hearing I have feelings for you, how do you think Diana will? She always took her father’s side on everything. Why would she switch to mine now?”

“Because she loves you. As for Jordan, she loves her grandfather so much, I think she’d have a problem with anyone you said you were interested in—male or female. I just happened to be the lucky one to face her wrath this time.”

“This time?” Meredith asked with a disbelieving laugh. “You make it seem like I have a string of persistent suitors lined up outside my door.”

“I’m sure you’re the hit of the senior center back in Wisconsin.”

Meredith dried her eyes with her napkin. “Except for that one night with Evelyn, there hasn’t been anyone in my life or my bed since George died.”

“By choice or lack thereof?”

“More like lack of interest. I’m not attracted to anyone in my circle of friends, and I’m not willing to set up an online dating profile or whatever it is people are doing these days to meet people. Life’s too short to spend it lying about my age, weight, or natural hair color to someone who’s probably doing the same to me. What about you? How long has it been for you?”

“I’ve had my share of experiences over the years, but I haven’t been in a relationship, serious or otherwise, in years.”

“Why?”

“It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try.”

Even though Meredith was glad Natalie was single, she wanted to know why she had chosen to remain that way.

“During the war, I felt sorry for the expectants because they had to face death without their families by their sides. I couldn’t imagine a worse fate and I didn’t want it to befall me.”

Meredith remembered the soldiers’ anguished expressions, their sorrowful cries for the mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives, and children they were leaving behind as they reluctantly made their way out of this world and moved on to the next.

“At some point, I stopped planning for the future and started living for the moment. I wrestle with the fear of ending up old and alone, dependent upon the kindness of strangers to see me through to the end, but I don’t want to be a burden on someone I care for. Having a lover watch me suffer would only make my suffering worse. I don’t want to see my pain reflected in her eyes.” Natalie flinched as if she had just remembered Meredith had lived through the nightmare scenario she had just described. “I’m sorry. George’s passing had to have been painful—physically for him and emotionally for you.”

“Yes, it was. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Instead of being weakened by the ordeal, though, I feel strengthened by it. I’m not glad I had to go through it, but I’m glad I made it through. Would you rather miss out on love in order to avoid the hurt?”

“It’s a compromise I thought I was willing to make.”

“Until?”

“Until there was you. In Saigon, in Long Binh, in Vũng Tàu, and now here. No matter which road I take, it always ends up leading back to you.”

Natalie reached across the table with both hands. Meredith reached for her, too. Reached back into the past. Reached toward the future. “Where do you think this road will take us?”

“We could go just around the bend or we could end up driving a country mile. Who knows?” Natalie smiled. The crow’s feet around her eyes accentuated their beauty. “Why don’t we decide when we get there?”

Meredith brought Natalie’s hands to her lips and kissed her fingertips. “Sounds good to me.”

Jordan was envious. Grandma Meredith and Natalie had had dinner together every night this week. They’d spent their afternoons together, too, sitting with Billie and reading to her from her favorite book.

Grandma Meredith and Papa George had gotten together long before Jordan was born, so she hadn’t been able to watch Grandma Meredith fall in love. This time, however, she had a front-row seat. Except she didn’t want to be in the audience. She wanted to be on the stage.

She and Brittany were over. She and Hayden had never really gotten started. She was ready to move on. To put herself out there and see what happened. And she wanted to do it with Tatum.

Tatum was smart, funny, honest, and brave. All the qualities Jordan could ask for in a girlfriend. But even though Grandma Meredith tried to convince her that Tatum’s paralysis was an obstacle she could overcome, Jordan couldn’t see her way around it, past it, or over it.

She could be friends with Tatum. She could sit with her during her dinner breaks at work or stop by her place to help her walk Lincoln when time allowed, but she didn’t think they were capable of more.

Sex wasn’t the be-all and end-all for her that Brittany had made it out to be, but Jordan couldn’t deny its importance. How much mobility did Tatum have? How much sensation? Had she been with anyone since she lost the use of her legs, or was physical intimacy now an impossibility for her?

But she didn’t know how to ask those questions without offending Tatum or, even worse, getting her hopes up for something that might not come to pass. Because the fact remained that as much as she enjoyed being with Tatum, she didn’t enjoy being seen with her. She hated the looks and stares they received—and she hated herself for letting the looks and stares get to her instead of ignoring them.

Was this how Grandma Meredith felt when she was fighting her feelings for Natalie back in Vietnam? Wanting something—someone—so much but unable to deal with the stigma of being associated with her?

Grandma Meredith had gotten over her fears. Jordan hoped it wouldn’t take her forty-seven years to do the same.

She stuck her head in Tatum’s office door but backed away when she saw Natalie sitting in front of Tatum’s desk. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense.” Natalie rose from her chair. “I should thank you for preventing me from wearing out my welcome.” She turned back to Tatum. “We’ll talk later, okay, Tater?”

“Sure thing.”

Natalie took a long look at Jordan’s outfit and the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile. “How many wishes do I get?”

When Jordan had suggested the employees wear costumes to match the themed rooms, she hadn’t planned on getting stuck playing Barbara Eden in
I Dream of Jeannie
.

“Three. And the first two don’t count.”

“That’s okay. I already got the one I wanted. See you later, kid.”

“What’s up, Jordan?” Tatum asked after Natalie closed the door behind her with a soft click.

“It’s almost time for dinner and I need to borrow your menus.”

Tatum pulled the dog-eared documents out of her desk and handed them over. “You should make copies so you don’t have to ask me for them each time you want to place an order.”

“And lose my excuse to see what you’re up to in here? Where’s the fun in that? I’m in the mood for pizza. How about you?”

“I can’t tonight.” Lincoln, who had lifted his head at the sound of the “P” word, rested his chin on his paws after he realized he wouldn’t be receiving pepperoni samples in thirty minutes or less. “I have a ton of paperwork to get through before the end of my shift.” Tatum shuffled the reports on her desk for emphasis. “Maybe next time.”

“You said that last night. And the night before that. And the night before that. As a matter of fact,” Jordan realized with a start, “you’ve been saying it for a week now. Are we okay?”

Tatum’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course we’re okay. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“You haven’t said more than two words to me today until now. Did I do or say something to piss you off?”