“Hey, MacKenzie,” I said.
April stood on the front porch and waved me toward her. “June,” she said. “How are you?”
“Cold. My water heater is on the fritz, I think. I almost took an ice shower,” I said.
“You should have come over here,” April said. “I’m sure no one would have minded."
“Oh, no,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to impose.” Or run into Cade while I was over here, showering. “Is Stan home? Unless you know something about water heaters…”
April shook her head and smiled. “Not at all,” she said. “But Stan’s inside.”
Stan sat at the front table, reading the paper, and peered over the edge at me as I walked inside the kitchen. “Morning, June,” he said. “What brings you over here? I don’t suppose it’s the coffee, is it?”
"Not at all," I said. "I’m actually here to see if you know anything about water heaters. Mine went out this morning.”
“Well, now, that I can help you with,” Stan said. “This old man is still good for something. Give me an hour or so and I’ll come by.”
“Thanks, Stan,” I said. I walked back home, having a hard time deciphering the feeling I had as I walked away. I felt disappointed, but at what, I wasn’t sure. Not seeing Cade? I needed to get past that shit.
An hour later on the dot, Stan showed up, tool belt in hand. “Alright, June,” he said. “Let’s have a look. I showed him to the garage, and sat on the step while he began to work. He tinkered around for a while, and I made idle chit-chat with him while he worked, until he proclaimed it fixed. Afterward, we sat at my kitchen table, drinking coffee.
"I'm glad you came back here, June," he said. "Glad you moved into this old place. It needed someone like you here to breathe new life into it."
"Thanks, Stan," I said. "It's nice settling in here. It's been a long time since I felt settled." Since before my parents died.
"Now, if only you could talk Cade into coming back home."
“Oh, I don’t think my words wield any sort of influence over Cade anymore, Stan.”
He was quiet. “I think you still have more influence over him than you know, June. You always have.”
"That's not true, Stan," I said. "I think Cade does what he wants." And he certainly doesn't have any special regard for what I think.
"This is entirely me speaking out of turn here," Stan said. "But I watched my son carry a torch for you long after you left. I think he joined the Marines to get away from memories."
Memories of me, he meant.
"After you left, he kind of turned back in on himself, like he always did when things got hard," Stan said. "Well, you know how he is."
"Yeah," I said, without even thinking. Well, I knew him back then.
"He thinks I don't understand the path he's on," Stan said, his voice soft. "But I understand more than he thinks. I was in the Navy myself, back in Vietnam, you know. Things were different then. People talked about 'shell shock,' coming back from war different."
"You think that's what happened with Cade?"
"He did all those deployments," Stan said. "Came back different after the second one, the time in Ramadi. Got a Silver Star for it, but wouldn't say a word about it. Got pissed off when anyone tried to ask him about it. Said the Marine Corps should have kept their award. After that, he'd come back to visit between deployments, but it wasn't the same. He doesn't know I know about the nightmares and stuff. I'd hear him at night."
I didn't know what to say. That I understood? I'd been near an explosion. Tangentially involved. I hadn't seen what Cade had seen.
"The mood swings, doing crazy stuff," Stan said. "Dangerous stuff... It was like he didn't care if he lived or died."
Risk-taking behavior, my therapist had called it.
Like sleeping with my boss.
Like Cade joining an outlaw biker gang.
"I deployed with the Marines to Afghanistan," I said. I wasn't sure why I was telling him. "I came back here because I didn't want to do it anymore. Be a surgeon, I mean."
Stan nodded, thoughtful. "Cade's still a good man, June. At heart, I know he is."
Why was he telling me this?
I didn't want to hear that Cade was a good guy.
I didn't say anything.
"That family over there, he's hiding them from something bad," he said. "I know you don't want to put them in jeopardy."
"Of course not." What was he getting at?
Stan nodded. "Mentioning who's staying here, to a cop, wouldn't be a good thing."
Jed.
"I wouldn't do something like that," I said. "Where's this coming from?"
Stan sighed. "I know you wouldn't do anything that would put them at risk. And I figured you had enough common sense to figure out what to say. I'm sorry for butting my nose into this. It's none of my business. I just want to make sure that little girl and her family stay okay."