Morning Glory(71)

“You came,” I say, sinking into his embrace. The elation lasts but for an instant, dulled at the thought of the men who were standing on the dock just hours prior.

“Collin, we have to talk about something important.”

He looks startled and then frowns. “You still love him, don’t you?” Before I can answer, he continues. “I saw the way you were dancing with him tonight.”

“No, I—”

“I want your whole heart for my own,” he says, “but I suppose that’s more than you can give. That’s why I stormed out.” He looks at his feet, before turning his gaze up at me again, expectantly. “Penny, I’d be happy if I just had half of it.”

“Oh, Collin,” I say, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

His eyes brighten.

“There’s something else,” I say, letting go of his hand. “Two men have been looking for you. Collin, they told me that you’re being charged with treason.”

He looks silently out to the lake.

“So, it’s true?”

He raises his hands to the back of his neck and lifts off the silver chain that holds his military dog tags. I studied the metal plates on nights we were together, and held them in my hands, listening to the way they clinked together on Collin’s bare chest. I asked him to tell me about his time in the military, but he was always silent. Until now.

He opens my hand and sets the silver chain, still warm from his skin, in my palm. “They’re not mine,” he says. “I never wanted to join the military, but when I turned eighteen, my father marched me down to the station and told me it was the honorable thing to do. I wanted to make him proud, but I didn’t realize I was actually signing my life away.”

I nod and continue listening.

“At first I thought it would be adventurous, shipping off to Korea, but when I got there, I realized I had made a horrible mistake. I knew how to build boats, but I never wanted to use them to kill people. Penny, I saw death and destruction all around. Women, children were cut down by bombs and bullets. I held a little Korean boy in my arms after our attack took out his village. I held him as he took his last breath.”

I look away. This picture of war is more than I can bear.

“When my unit was hit, we were miles away from our base, on leave for the night,” Collin continues. I’m not ready to hear his story, but he needs to tell me. I hold still. “A man was badly burned. Unrecognizable. His name was Collin, and he was on his last tour. He was heading home to Washington the next day. That night I had two choices: Find my way back and continue fighting that miserable war, or take the chance to start a new life for myself.”

“So you took his dog tags,” I say. “You took his identity.”

“I did,” he says. “Penny, I’m not proud of what I did. But I have to live with my choices. And because of them I will always be running.”

“And what about his family? Do they simply think he’s missing in action?”

“When I made it home,” he says, “I went to see his folks. I told them the truth. They didn’t take it very well. They wanted their son buried properly, instead of beneath a tombstone mismarked with my name. But I gave them every cent I had, which at the time was quite a bit. I’d made four boats and assisted in the building of dozens more, so I had money saved before the war. It only seemed fitting to give it to them.”

“And that kept them silent?”

“I hoped it would,” he says. “But I guess they’ve finally gone to the authorities. I knew they would when the money ran out.”

“And you’re running now?”

He tucks his hand in mine. “Yes. Hopefully with you.”

“But . . . what you’ve done—it’s fraud. I don’t even know your real name.”

“It’s Sam,” he says. “Sam Leary.”

The name sounds strange and foreign.

“I can’t call you that,” I say.

“Then don’t.”

“How can I even be sure I know you?”

He takes my hand and presses it against his chest. “You know my heart; that’s how.”

I wipe a tear from my cheek. “Then what happens next? What are we supposed to do?”

He nods urgently. “Come away with me.”

I look back to the dock, where I hear the sound of Dexter’s deep laughter, before turning back to Collin hesitantly. “But, I—”

Collin takes a step back. He’s injured by my hesitation; I know it. But he forces a smile, determined to lighten the moment. “You still have your ticket, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, grinning as I remember the ticket stub he gave me as passage onto the boat. I’ve kept it alongside a few other prized possessions in my old chest in the living room.