Or maybe the universe was going to give me exactly what I wanted.
“So, honey, when are you going to leave that dangerous job of yours and go back to college?” Lucille asked suddenly.
“It’s not just a job. You understand that, right?”
“Oh, Nathan. Of course it’s just a job, like anything else.”
Here we go. This was the conversation I had been waiting for.
“Like I told you many times before, Mother, it’s not just another job. It’s not something you walk away from.”
“Okay, okay. I was just saying that I think you’d do so well in college. You’re such a smart boy. You could get a degree in economics . . .”
I tuned her out at that point. Arguing wasn’t going to do anything with Lucille. The idea of getting a degree in anything and working at a desk for the rest of my life made me want to hang myself.
There was nothing better than the excitement of a rapid deployment. One second you were playing with your balls, bored as hell in some Podunk small town with two cows and not enough whisky, and the next you were rappelling from a Black Hawk helicopter while under heavy fire. I loved the smell of metal and oil and the weight of a fully loaded rifle in my hands. There was a thrill and a power knowing that my job could save the lives of thousands of people, both civvies and military alike. I was the tip of the spear, the deadliest of the deadly. It felt fucking good to be part of ones the United States turned to when they needed help the most.
Breakfast went fast after that. Lucille finished her second drink and was nicely buzzed, which meant she was both happier and much pushier. Still, I was able to ignore her for the most part since I was preoccupied thinking about Claire.
We left the restaurant and made our way over to Lucille’s new car. It was huge and black and shiny, basically the sort of ostentatious crap that she loved. I climbed in and tuned her out as we drove out into the rich part of town toward her new husband’s house.
“Oh, honey,” she said as we pulled down a long driveway toward an enormous house. “I wish you had worn something nicer.”
“This is what I wear,” I grunted at her.
“But you look . . . dirty.”
“This stuff is clean.”
“You could have worn some nice khakis, maybe that shirt I got you for Christmas last year.”
That shirt was incinerated somewhere in Iraq. My squad had laughed for days over it.
“Maybe,” I grunted at her.
“Listen,” she said, slowing down. “There’s one more thing. I’d really like it, and so would Jonathan, if you stayed with us while you’re in town.”
I stared at her for a second. The last thing in the entire world that I wanted was to stay with her and her new husband, no matter how nice his beach property was. I had no interest in being a part of their weird life any more than I had to be. I didn’t want to be the stain that embarrassed them, when really they were naïve rich people that didn’t know how the world really worked. I was more than fine at my motel.
“No, thanks,” I said. “I have a place.”
“That motel? Please, honey. Stay here. It’s so much nicer and you’ll really love it. Plus, Jonathan wants to get to know you. He wants us to be a family.”
“Family,” I grunted, shaking my head.
“Please, honey? It would make me so happy. And Jonathan, too.”
“No way.”
She frowned but didn’t say anything more.
We parked in front of the place and climbed out. Mom smiled hugely and gestured.
“Here we are! You’ll see it’s really beautiful and modern inside, plenty of space for you if you change your mind.”
I rolled my eyes as I followed her up the front steps. She paused at the door and looked at me seriously.
“Please, Nathan,” she hissed. “Don’t embarrass me.”
Before I could say anything, she pulled open the door, the fake smile back on her face.
“Jonathan, dear?” she yelled out, moving into the house.
I clenched my jaw and balled my fists. I wanted to get the fuck out of there, find some bar, and get shitfaced wasted. Or maybe go for another run until I couldn’t feel my lungs anymore. But I knew that was delaying the inevitable. And if there was one thing I learned in training, it was how to do things I didn’t fucking want to do.
I followed her into the hall, the sound of her heels clacking on the hardwood floor and echoing off the high ceilings. The place was the epitome of rich modernity, all clean, smooth lines and simple colors. There was nothing gaudy or anything that really screamed wealth, but that made it all that much richer. Jonathan was clearly the kind of man that signaled his money through quality and not through show.