Fisher's Light
Page 37

She sighs, folding her hands together in her lap and finally looking back up at me. “Fine. Yes, it was me. I was just worried about her after you left. I overheard your father talking to someone on the phone about how she could barely pay the bills and then Trip mentioned something about a bunch of repairs that wiped out her savings account and I felt bad, so I set up an account one day when your father was out of town on business. I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t know what else to do. I knew she’d never come to us for help, why would she? Your father has never accepted her and I’ve been just as bad by letting him treat her the way he does. I wanted to do something for all the hurt this family has caused her over the years.”
It’s hard for me to be mad at her, even though her actions royally screwed things up between Lucy and me. She was just trying to help the only way she knew how. She had no way of knowing how much it would hurt Lucy’s pride to have that money given to her, making her feel like she couldn’t make it on her own and that she needed help.
“It’s okay, Mom. It was a really nice thing for you to do, but could you do me a favor and put an end to the monthly deposits? I’m in a little hot water right now because of them and it’s not exactly helping my case with Lucy,” I explain, lightening the request with a smile so I don’t hurt her feelings.
“Done. I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” she agrees with a nod.
We sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks outside that we can hear through the open window.
“I’m so happy you’re doing better, Fisher. You really do look well. I’m sure it will only be a matter of time before Lucy notices that, as well,” she tells me softly with a smile.
I shake my head and lean back against the couch, glancing out the window over her shoulder to stare at the ocean. “I don’t know, Mom. I just don’t know what to do. I made so many mistakes with her and I hurt her so much. I just want her to see that I’m different now, that I’ll never go down that path again, but every time I try to talk to her, all I seem to do is piss her off. I want a future with her. I want to love her forever and I want to take care of her. I just don’t even know where to begin making things right…”
I trail off, pulling my gaze away from the ocean to look at my mother. Even though we’ve never been all that close because of my father, she’s still always been an easy person to talk to or go to for advice. Add to that the fact that she always adored Lucy, I knew she would be the only person I could count on to help me figure this thing out.
She reaches over and grabs my hand, tugging me up from the couch.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” she tells me as she leads me through the house, up the main staircase and down the hall to my old bedroom.
When she pushes open the door and pulls me inside, I pause and try to force my heart to stop racing as I look around the room. Years ago, she’d converted this room into an office for herself so she could work on the many volunteer projects she organizes. Her computer desk still sits in the corner next to the window, but the paintings and other artwork that used to hang on the wall have been replaced with shadowboxes and other framed items. A part of me wants to run out of this room so I don’t have to see all of the memorabilia she’s hung on the walls, but I know I can’t do that. The whole point of sticking with therapy for a year was to finally exorcise all of these fucking demons. What kind of a coward would I be if I couldn’t stare them down right now?
Walking slowly around the room, I look at my Purple Heart, displayed inside a shadow box along with the official letter that came with it. My shoulder injury was the catalyst to my coming home from that last tour and what I did to Lucy in our kitchen. I didn’t want to leave my men behind and I certainly didn’t want to leave them for something I didn’t consider a “real” injury. Men were losing life and limb and I was forced to go home for a few pieces of metal in my shoulder that damaged a nerve. I was pissed that I received a medal for doing my fucking job, so pissed that I refused to attend the ceremony and shoved it into a box without looking at it as soon as it came in the mail.
Next to the Purple Heart is a framed article from our local newspaper’s write-up after my first deployment on their “local boy” who went overseas. My uniform hangs from the back of the closet door and my camouflaged backpack, stained with blood from my shoulder injury, rests on the floor against the wall.
I clench and unclench my fists to keep them from shaking as I squat down and run my hand over the pack, remembering the weight of it on my back through so many years and so many deployments. All of the items in this room were shoved into a tote in the back of my closet at the house Lucy and I shared because I couldn’t stand to look at them, knowing they would bring me nothing but bad memories and horrible flashbacks. Bobby told me he’d given the tote to my mother when he cleaned up the mess I’d made of my house, but I never expected her to pull them out and turn this room into a shrine, showcasing everything I’d been through. Tears fill my eyes when I think about all the men who lost their lives, men that I lived with, men that I fought with and men that became my brothers. So many lives lost and I’ve never understood why I got to come home, year after year. I could never comprehend why I was one of the lucky ones that wasn’t shipped home in a flag-draped coffin.
Glancing above me, I see a framed picture of Lucy and I on our wedding day and I’m immediately reminded why I’m so fucking lucky.