Out of Time

15

Saturday evening I shoveled more food onto a man’s plate. I usually came to the soup kitchen on Sundays, but I was trying to keep myself as busy as possible. This time I’d dragged Marie with me. Speaking of which…

I met her eyes from across the room. She made a face at me and I nodded discreetly. It was time to go. There were only a few people here and it was getting dark. It had been a heck of a day. I’d said goodbye to my parents and then studied English with Cory for a few hours.

I felt exhausted yet wide awake at the same time. It was time to get out of here, maybe grab a bite to eat, and try to get some sleep. I had no idea what to expect when Finn returned. Or what to hope for, besides him not leaving.

As Finn would say…this fucking wait was fucking killing me.

I took off the hairnet and smiled at the woman who ran the place, earning a wave in return, set down some McDonald’s cards, and made my way to Marie. “You ready to go?”

She nodded and headed for the door. “I don’t know how you do this all the time. It’s depressing.”

Deja vu. “It’s not depressing. They’re hungry and need food.” I shrugged. “It’s simple.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, now I’m hungry and need food, so feed me. Where are we going?”

I always went to Islands with Finn after the soup kitchen. It was weird not having him here with me. I missed him, and it had only been a few hours. What would it be like when he was gone? No, if he was gone?

“How about some Mexican?” I unlocked my car. “I could go for a quesadilla.”

“Sure.” She slid into the seat and pulled the mirror down, fluffing her hair. “If we go to that place on Pico, we could dance, too.”

“Dance? Yeah. I don’t think so.”

Marie rolled her eyes and buckled up. “You need to lighten up, Carrie. There’s nothing wrong with dancing.”

“You haven’t seen me dance,” I pointed out. “You’d disagree if you saw me in action.”

She laughed. “That bad?”

“That bad.”

“Okay, no dancing then.” She looked at me, her eyes shining with excitement. “Hey, we’re going skateboarding next weekend. How about if instead of feeding homeless people, you come with us? It’ll be fun.”

“That does sound fun.” I buckled up and pulled out of the parking lot. “Count me in.”

After we ate, I was on the way home alone. Marie had run into some guy she’d been flirting with lately and had chosen to stay with him. It was a relief, almost. It felt good to stop acting normal when I didn’t feel normal.

I felt stressed, exhausted, and way behind on life. And so freaking tired. Plus, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Finn was going to find out this weekend.

The whole way home, I went over every possible scenario that could come up. He could be going to war. Or maybe he was getting a promotion. Then again, he could be in trouble. Or he could be getting re-stationed across the country. The possibilities were endless, and I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out which one was the most statistically realistic one while also trying to figure out what my reaction would be.

If he had to move, would I move? Could I even do that?

I parked my car at the curb, not even realizing until I got out that I had gone to Finn’s apartment. I’d been on autopilot…but since I was here, I could use my key to get inside and take advantage of the shower. This morning I’d woken up too late, and the line for the showers had been horrendously long. I hadn’t had a good, hot shower in days, and I couldn’t wait to feel the hot water running down my body.

I slipped the key into the lock, turning it and pushing inside without lifting my head from my phone. I had two missed calls. One from Marie and the other from Finn. My heart picked up speed as I kicked the door shut behind me, swiping my finger over the screen so I could listen to the voicemail.

But the voicemail wasn’t from Finn. It was from Marie. Mexican music played in the background. “Hey, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know I won’t be home tonight. Enjoy the empty room.”

I dropped back against the door, the disappointment at missing Finn’s call so heavy that I couldn’t stand it. I hugged the phone to my chest, tears filling my eyes. Why hadn’t he left me a message? Even a simple I love you would have been better than nothing. “Damn it.”

“What’s with the cursing?” Finn asked, his voice loud and clear.

For a second, I thought I’d called him and somehow put the phone on speaker, but he switched on the light, and he was standing there in his uniform.

“Finn?” I stepped closer but then froze, my heart racing and seeming to painfully climb up from my chest until it felt as if it rested in my throat instead of my chest. I knew that wasn’t possible, of course, but I’d swear to it. “How are you home early?”

“They only needed me for a few hours,” he said, his tone neutral. “So I came home and called you right away. I saw you pull up, so I hung up.”

I knew his being home meant something to us. Something good or bad. But suddenly it didn’t matter anymore, because he was here. And that’s all that mattered, wasn’t it?

I took a step toward him, then another. By the time my foot hit the floor a third time, I was running. I’m talking hair-flying-behind-you, full-on sprint. Finn took a few steps toward me and opened his arms. I flung myself at him full force, holding on to him as if he alone could keep me on the ground.

He hugged me close, his arms wrapping around me so securely I couldn’t even move, and he kissed my temple. I pulled back, meeting his eyes, and forced a smile. “I’m so happy you’re home early.”

He smiled back at me. Even though he hadn’t opened his mouth, I just knew he was going to say something I wouldn’t like. I could feel his heart thumping, beating against my own almost in tandem. “Carrie, I—”

“No. Not yet.”

And I kissed him with all the emotions I had bottled up inside me all this time. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Didn’t want my worst fears to become so utterly, horrifically, devastatingly alive. When I had been a little girl, I’d been terrified of monsters that hid under my bed. Now, as an adult, I knew the real terror lie in words and actions. In life or death. Not in scary, hairy, huge beasts.

I kissed him with a desperation I hadn’t felt before, knowing if I stopped he’d tell me the words I didn’t want to hear. All those silly fears I’d had over the years seemed so freaking pathetic in the face of what I was feeling in Finn’s arms.

He moaned into my mouth and stumbled back, his hands supporting me. I knew I was attacking the poor man, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not ever. When he broke off the kiss, his breathing heavy and his grip on me unbreakable, I dared a glance up at him.

“Ginger,” he said. “We need to talk.”

I forced a smile for him, my hands gripping his shoulders so hard it probably hurt him, but he didn’t so much as flinch. “I know,” I said, my voice breaking on the last word. When he shot me a concerned look and opened his mouth to talk, I pressed my fingers against his mouth. “No. Don’t say it. Not yet. I need a drink first.”

He kissed my fingers and nodded, his bright blue eyes latched on me. “Have I ever denied you something you wanted?”

I wanted to demand he not leave me. He’d promised to give me everything I wanted, hadn’t he? But that wouldn’t be fair. Even I knew he didn’t have a say in whether he left or stayed. It was all up to men like my father. To the men in the government who sat behind their desks, moving men like Finn across the world like chess pieces.

I noticed the outline of his dog tags, so I gently grasped the chain and pulled them out from under his shirt. I scanned the words that denoted his name, social security number, blood type, and religion. I now knew he was O positive. What a weird way to find out. I didn’t even know what the heck type of blood I had, but I knew his.

Oh, and he was Catholic. He’d never mentioned this before. But we hadn’t talked about God much, besides when he’d told me surfing was his version of church. We hadn’t gotten to that part of our lives yet, I guess.

Knowing that this was how they kept track of who was who felt so cold and impersonal. But then again, that’s how life was, wasn’t it?

“Carrie…”

“I know. I need a drink first.”

He gave me a look, one that said he didn’t like this not-talking thing I was doing any more than he liked giving me alcohol, but I stubbornly ignored it. I went into the kitchen, grabbing him a beer and me a wine cooler. After I opened them, I went back to his side and handed him his beer.

He took it and sat down on the couch, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he held it out to me. “To us?”

“To us,” I echoed, tapping my bottle with his. I brought it to my lips and drank it, not even taking a breath between swallows. Finn threw me a concerned look and pried it out of my fingers before I could drain it. “Hey.”

Finn cupped my chin and turned my head, forcing my face toward his. “Carrie. Look at me.”

“I can’t. I just…can’t.” I closed my eyes tight, scrunching them shut. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Ginger…” He pulled me into his lap. “I need you to look at me.”

I rested in between his legs, but facing him, a leg on either side of his hips. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter, like a kid terrified to open her eyes and see the monster looming over her bed late at night. I couldn’t handle this. I wasn’t strong enough.

Wait. Yes, I was. I had to be strong for him. He needed me to be strong.

I took a deep, shaky breath and opened my eyes, my chest moving far too rapidly and my heart echoing in my head so loudly it freaking hurt. I knew that I wasn’t going to like what he had to say, and I knew I was going to lose it. Completely lose it.

I rested a hand behind his neck, directly between his shoulder blades, and the other on his shoulder. I nodded, knowing he was waiting. Waiting for me to be ready.

It’s not that I couldn’t handle it. I could. I’d just needed some time.

And I loved him even more for totally getting this about me.

I nodded once. “Go ahead. Tell me everything.”