Accepted: A Military Romance (A Soldier's Sacrifice Book 4) Page 2

  “Are you a wrestler?” Sam asked, turning the question to me.

  “No,” I said, and his face fell.

  “Oh. You look like you could be a pro wrestler. You should think about doing that. You’re very big,” he explained matter-of-factly.

  “I will. I’ll definitely think about it,” I said, and Melanie smiled gratefully. I sat down in a chair near the arm of the sofa. “If I became a wrestler, would I be one of the good guys or the bad guys?”

  “I dunno. Are you mean?” Sam asked.

  “No way. I could never be mean.”

  “Then I guess you have to be a good guy,” he said, as if that settled it.

  “Don’t I need a cool wrestler name? Something like, ‘The Atomic Powerhouse’ or anything cool like that?” I asked, keeping the conversation going just to amuse him.

  “No. That sounds like a mean name. How about… the Farmer?”

  Melanie stifled a laugh, but I ignored her. “The Farmer? I don’t know, that doesn’t sound very tough. And I don’t know anything about farming.”

  “You talk like a farmer, though,” Sam explained.

  “I do? I sound like a farmer?” I asked, pretending to be confused. Sam actually laughed.

  “You know, you sound like the people on the pickup truck commercials,” he clarified in his very serious little boy voice. “Besides, you don’t have to be a for-real farmer, that can just be your wrestler name.”

  “I like it,” I said firmly, nodding to show my support. “The Farmer it is. But dont I need a sidekick?”

  “What’s a sidekick?” Sam asked, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of some new knowledge.

  “That’s the other person’s back up, the person they look to for help when they need it. Just like you’re a sidekick for your mom. Don’t you help her out and make her happy and stuff?”

  “Yeah,” he answered, darting his eyes to his mom as though checking to make sure.

  “Then you’re already a sidekick,” I said, smiling. “But being a sidekick is a huge job. You need your rest.”

  “Yeah, I’m kinda tired,” Sam said in a small voice.

  “Well, it was really great to meet you. But I’m gonna go so you can sleep, okay?” I said, holding out my hand for a high five. He smacked my palm weakly, the bruises and bandages from where he’d had an IV making me cringe.

  “Okay. Will you come back and watch wrestling with me?” he asked before settling in against his pillow.

  “That’s up to your mom, but I’d like that.” I smiled down at him one last time and followed Melanie to the kitchen. I turned to face her and said in a low voice, “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Do what?” she asked with a crooked smile.

  “Not cave in and give him anything he wants. That little guy could melt the hardest heart,” I said, blowing out a breath and looking stunned.

  Melanie’s expression was hard to read, a mixture of happiness and certainty. She leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. It was the most defensive I could ever remember seeing her.

  “This is the part where you get to walk away,” she whispered.

  “What?” I asked, making sure I’d heard her right.

  “You’ve heard me talk about what a hard job it is being his mom. You’ve seen two different phone calls where I had to rush around and do something for him. And now you’ve met him, and you got to see for yourself just how serious this is,” Melanie explained slowly. “So now, you can walk away if you want. I won’t be mad, I promise.”

  “Is that what other guys do?” I asked, meeting her gaze and refusing to look away.

  “It’s what my husband did, Sam’s own father. And yeah, it’s happened once or twice,” she admitted, looking away first. “I’ve met guys before who said all the right things about being strong, about wanting to take care of someone. But then they meet Sam and it’s almost like they finally understood just how bad this is. And that’s when they stop answering the phone. I don’t blame them, and I wouldn’t blame you.”

  “Melanie, I’m not going anywhere,” I said before I knew what I was saying.

  It was almost like I was on autopilot, responding to her need for answers and confirmation. It wasn’t that I didn’t have my own thoughts about her situation—or ours, for that matter—but that there was no way I could walk out the door again and not be changed by that little boy.

  Or by her.

  “It’s easy to say that right now,” she said skeptically. “I really hope I’m wrong, that you’ll stick around. But I want you to know, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. In some ways, it’s worse if you don’t go running off into the night like your hair’s on fire, only to half-ass things and leave later.”

  “The Army doesn’t let me have enough hair to burn,” I teased quietly, rubbing a hand over my regulation haircut. “But I know what you meant. And thank you for letting me meet Sam.”

  “I had to convince you that I wasn’t just stringing you along,” Melanie explained, nodding slowly.

  “No, you didn’t,” I interrupted. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, and sorry that I thought you might lie to me. But you didn’t have to prove to me that Sam is real. He’s a very sick little boy, not the Tooth Fairy.”

  “I wish we did have some magic right about now. A fairy who could wave a wand and fix all of this would be awesome.” Melanie looked out the kitchen window to where her friend’s tent was still standing, to the place where we’d almost shared a romantic evening. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

  “Hey, you have something better than magic,” I said longingly, crossing the space between us and sliding my arms around her waist, holding her protectively. “You have me. And I may not know what to do or how to fix this, but I’ve made an entire career out of doing what I’m told. So let me help you. Tell me how to help you, and I’ll do it.”

  Melanie looked up at me with the most adoring expression I’d ever been lucky enough to have sent my way. She smiled finally, and rested her head against my chest.

  “For now, this is all I need,” she said, sinking against me as though all the fight had gone out of her for a while.

  “Then you’ve got it,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head.

  ***

  Melanie

  Somewhere, a clock was ticking. Its movements were getting louder, its gears churning faster than normal. Before long, its hands would be spinning out of control as time went by with ever increasing speed. No matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t be able to catch up to it, to grab it and force its hands to stop moving.

  Devin was that clock, or at least, his time here was. We had only a week to figure out what we wanted from each other, to figure out if we could be what the other one needed. Devin talked a good game, that was for certain—he’d made all kinds of promises and said all the right things. But I’d heard those words before, and I’d been let down every time.

  He was just going to have to understand that I had to see it to believe it. As my dad was famous for saying to students who promised to do better, “I’m from Missouri… you have to show me.”

  The real question was, did Devin deserve to have to pay the price for all the failures I’d suffered in the past? Could I really expect him to prove himself over and over and over, simply because other guys hadn’t been as trustworthy?

  It wasn’t fair, but that’s how it would have to be. It wasn’t just about me and my broken heart or my hurt feelings if this went badly, this was about Sam. He was the one who had to come first, and if Devin couldn’t accept that, I needed to know it sooner rather than later.

  But this damn clock was a whole other problem: we had one week or so before Devin had to give up the Army or reenlist for another three years. Worse, he already knew that re-enlisting would mean another assignment overseas, back in a war zone, back in harm’s way.

  That certainly wasn’t what I wanted for him, but I didn’t want to be the reason he gave that up.r />
  I ducked my head into the living and called out to Sam. “Sweetie? Mommy’s going to be right outside, okay?”

  “Okay Mommy,” he answered, his words still hollow from exhaustion.

  I led Devin outside by the hand and sat down on the chair behind him, both of us leaning back against the seats and just relaxing for a moment. It felt so strange to be doing something so normal and carefree while my son was inside trying not to die.

  Stop it, Melanie! I told myself angrily. Sam will not die, you won’t let it happen!

  But what if I wasn’t strong enough to stop it? What if I wasn’t strong enough to survive it if it did happen?

  “How’re you holding up?” Devin asked, reaching for my hand and wrapping his fingers around mine.

  “I’m okay. It’s Sam I’m worried about,” I replied automatically.

  “I know you are. That’s your job,” he replied sweetly. “And that’s why you’re my job. Somebody has to make sure you’re okay so you can make sure Sam’s okay.”

  I turned to look at Devin and smiled. That was exactly what I needed to hear.

  “Honestly? I’m terrified,” I finally said. “And not just for the obvious reasons. I’m also terrified… for you?”

  “Of me? I’m not so scary!” Devin said, lifting his head and looking down at me.

  “Not of you, silly. For you. Because I don’t want you to go. I can’t stand the idea of you leaving, and maybe even going off to another deployment. But I’m also scared that you’re going to give up everything you’ve worked for and then resent me for forcing your hand.”

  “Melanie, you wouldn’t be forcing my hand. Besides, I’m not saying that I’m thinking about marriage or moving in,” he answered, and suddenly, I grew nervous all over again.

  My mind hadn’t gone far enough to think about what happened after Devin gave up the Army for me. I hadn’t even processed what a future for us would look like. Where would he live? Where would he work?

  “What if we’re not right for each other, but we don’t find out until it’s too late and the damage is done?” I asked, suddenly afraid of his answer.

  “Then I have to figure out my next steps… just like I’ve had to do my whole life. But I can say this much, I’m in a much better place to make huge decisions now than I would have been without everything that’s happened in the last eight years,” Devin explained in a way that was almost too calm, too accepting.

  “I can’t believe you’re okay with all this,” I said, kind of in awe. “I would be freaking out practically at every waking moment if I had to make a choice like this.”

  “You can’t be serious. I just have to decide between two things that I am happy with. You have to make much bigger decisions than that every single day. Forget Sam for a second, what about your job at the school? Do you know how much those kids need you?”

  “I wish it was as impressive as you’re making it sound. Some days I feel like I make a bigger difference serving beer to guys playing pool,” I said, sounding a little more defeated than I’d meant to.

  “I wish I’d had someone like you to help me when I was in school,” Devin said, then he seemed to remember that I was the whole cause of his problems in the first place. “I mean, I guess I did have you to help me.”

  “For all the good it did you,” I said, laughing self-consciously. Devin shot me a “we’ve already been over this” look before smiling at me.

  “But speaking of waitressing,” Devin said with a strange look on his face.

  Uh-oh. Here it comes. That was another sore point with the few guys I’d attempted to date. Heck, it was even a sore point with the administration at the school. For some reason, waitressing—fully clothed and in a legal establishment, no less—just made some men insecure.

  So it was Devin’s turn. I braced myself for the inevitable words that were sure to come out next: “I don’t like the idea of other guys looking at my girlfriend,” or worse, “I don’t like the message it sends for other guys to give you tip money for doing their bidding.”

  Instead, he paused like he was thinking about how to phrase it.

  “Melanie, it’s not right that you have to work two jobs,” he began slowly, like he was waiting for my reaction. “I want to help you out. You and Sam.”

  ***

  Devin

  The look on Melanie’s face was part skeptical mixed with shock mixed with a little bit of “who do you think you are.” I should have been used to saying all the wrong things by now—and Melanie should be used to me sticking my foot in my mouth by now—but it didn’t seem that way.

  “Wait, before you get mad—” I started to say, holding my hands up like I was trying to physically block her anger.

  “I’m not mad,” she interrupted in a strangely calm voice. “I mean, I’m a little shocked. But only because you’re only the second person in the world who even offered to help instead of just telling me what I should do.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, wondering what else people thought she should do.

  “Everybody tells me all the time,” Melanie continued, looking kind of resigned. “They always say things like, ‘You work too hard, you shouldn’t be working in the evenings, too. You make enough money, you don’t have to work a second job.’ Or my favorite, ‘You should just quit working all together and focus on Sam, there’s a reason welfare exists, you know.’”

  I winced on instinct. I may have said things like that to a few people in my life without realizing what I was saying.

  “The truth is,” Melanie continued, “I make too much money for Sam to get free healthcare. And even if I quit working completely, he’s not eligible for it if I own this house. So my choices are work and pay for his care, or give up everything and move into government housing and try to get him free healthcare.

  “But not once has anyone—except my mother, that is—actually offered to help.” Melanie stopped and looked at me, watching my eyes for a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” I said on reflex. “I can’t imagine what people have said to you, but I can take your word for it. I bet it sucked.”

  Melanie laughed, somehow finding it in her to see the humor in it right now. “Yeah, it does. There have even been comments about the fact that my second job is in a bar. Again, I’d love to quit, people! But what are my options?”

  “That’s where I come in,” I started to say, but Melanie held up a hand to stop me.

  “If you’re going to suggest giving me money, please don’t. I won’t take it. My mom has already offered too, but I just can’t do that. It would hurt my pride too much, and right now, things aren’t so bad that I need it.” She looked down at her hands folded in her lap for a second and said, “I think I’m just scared that if I take help right now—when the day comes that Sam actually gets his liver and the transplant wipes out any hope of me ever having a bank account again—that there won’t be anyone left to lean on.”

  “Are you done?” I asked with a smirk after Melanie had kind of worn herself down. She nodded. “Good, because I wasn’t just going to offer to give you some money. Sure, I want to give you some to get you started so you can pay your bills if you quit right now. But I have a different plan.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

  I turned to face her slightly, angling towards her and reaching out my hand. She put her thin fingers in mine hesitantly and I wrapped my hand around hers, mostly so she couldn’t run away.

  “Marry me.”

  Chapter Three

  Melanie

  My head was spinning. What was he talking about? We’d barely known each other for three weeks. I had a child to think of, he had a career decision to make. And he wanted me to marry him?

  “Don’t say no yet, just hear me out,” Devin said slowly. He laughed for a second. “I never actually thought I’d have to say those words to someone after proposing to them.”

  “Devin, please be serious,” I said weakly. “This isn’t a ga
me.”

  “I’m dead serious, Melanie. I can’t remember the last time I was this clear-headed about something, to be honest with you,” he answered, his face lighting up. “And yeah, I’m gonna admit, this idea just came to me. I literally didn’t plan this or anything.”

  “Oh, this is getting even better,” I said sarcastically.

  “I promise, it’ll make sense. Just listen,” he said.

  For the next twenty minutes or so, I sat patiently and silently while Devin laid out this awesome plan of his. There were times when it made complete sense—mostly those times when he promised that Sam would be taken care of—and other times when it didn’t… like when he said he’d stay in the Army.

  I shook my head and crossed my arms in front of me, feeling a lot like a bratty child having a tantrum because she didn’t get her way.

  “No, I cannot let you stay in the Army for my sake or Sam’s,” I argued hotly. “You’re already talking about getting out of the Army, and now you’d have to sign another three-year commitment because of me?”

  “Like I said before, I didn’t know what I wanted. I’ve been looking around at coincidences and trying to make them be some kind of sign from the universe,” Devin explained, looking like he was floundering for the right words. “Instead, now I have this really certain feeling, you know? The kind of feeling where you just know something is the right thing to do.”

  I hesitated, but I shook my head again. “Devin, it’s wonderful of you to think of this. To think of me, and most of all, to think of Sam. But marrying you just to use you for free healthcare just feels wrong. It makes me feel dirty or something.”

  “Why does it just have to be for Sam?” he asked softly, squeezing my hand. “Why can’t it be about us, too?”

  “Because we just met, that’s why!” I protested. “That’s not exactly the basis for a healthy marriage.”

  Devin shrugged. “I can think of worse reasons for people to get married. At least we’d be going into it with our eyes open. We’d know that we have some decisions to make and some plans to think about. But most of all, we’d know that it was for Sam, and that’s a heck of a good reason.”