The Acceptance
Page 7

She’d asked for him—reached out to him.
He couldn’t let her down.
Besides, he really wanted to see her again.
Chapter Four
A night in his old bedroom was just what he’d needed to mend his soul. A few more nights and he might just be perfect.
But his uncle and aunt still had the house they rented that he’d once lived in with Christian and Clara. It was available again and as much his home as his parents’ house. He’d borrow one of his dad’s SUV’s and go by his uncle’s tomorrow and pick up the key. He’d give a few more thoughts to attending the funeral. Then he’d go buy a suit, because he already knew he was going.
Tyler’s uncle, who was retired and looked for any excuse to have something to do, met him at the rental property the next morning.
“I gave it a new coat of paint last summer. The sprinkler is on and the lawn mower is in the garage. With you here, you’re in charge of that,” he said as he pushed open the front door.
Memories flooded his head as he thought of the last time he’d stood in that doorway. He’d walked right out of it. Taken his truck loaded down with things and he left.
He’d tried to prepare everyone for his departure, but he hadn’t. Telling a cousin or two wasn’t really getting the news out. Only telling his brother where he was and swearing him to secrecy was uncalled for. You didn’t run in this family.
“Now I knew you’d want to stay here.” His uncle turned and looked at him. “You do want to stay here, right?”
Tyler laughed. “Yes.”
“Okay, good. I set up a bed in the bedroom and filled the fridge with food. I put beer in there too. Do you drink beer?”
That gave his heart a little squeeze. “I do.”
“Beer is good when you’ve put in a hard day or need a minute to think.”
Tyler was going to need a few of those—minutes to think.
His Uncle John handed him the key. “It’s good to have you home. Everything feels right again.”
“Thank you.”
“Where’s your truck?”
Tyler bit down on his lip. “I sold it a few years ago. I was working on an offshore oil rig. Didn’t need it.”
“You? On an oil rig?”
Tyler nodded. “A Pierpont Oil rig.”
John laughed when Tyler mentioned it. No one had talked much of his Aunt Simone’s family since she’d moved to the States.
“No kidding. Does Simone or Avery know that?”
Tyler shook his head. “No. I was just a guy on the rig.”
John nodded as if he understood. Then he gave his shoulder a pat. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of company.”
He smiled and let himself out the front door leaving Tyler there taking it all in.
Tyler woke in the bed his uncle had set up for him. He’d awakened to birds outside his window in a house he now called home. Home. It was good to think about that.
There was coffee in the kitchen, but it wasn’t going to make itself. Of course, the way his family worked, someone would probably stop by to check on him. If he stayed in bed just long enough maybe the coffee would be made and brought to him. He chuckled to himself and opened his eyes.
As his eyes focused, he sat up and looked around. Hanging on the bedroom door was the suit Clara had helped him pick out the day before.
His heart ached. Courtney would say goodbye to her brother today. Tyler had only said goodbye to his family for a few years—this was forever.
Planting his feet on the floor he gave his face a rub. There wouldn’t be enough time to get a razor. How come he hadn’t thought of getting one when Avery took him grocery shopping or Clara took him clothes shopping? They hadn’t even mentioned his stubble and that surprised him. But honestly, would Courtney care that he had a three day beard?
She hadn’t texted him again. Maybe she’d had a change of heart. Maybe he shouldn’t go.
No, on that plane he’d told her he’d be there for her if she ever needed him. Damn it, he was keeping his word.
Tyler parked nearly four blocks away from the church. Downtown on a Wednesday morning was bad enough. Add to it that he could already see the crowd flowing into the church. Courtney Field’s brother was a very important man.
As he entered the church he saw her. Already seated between her mother and father in the front pew, she didn’t wear black. That struck him as odd. She wore a bright yellow dress and she stood out like sunshine in the sea of darkness.
He followed the stream of people into their seats. The pew in which he sat was a mere four from the back. Courtney would never know he was even there among those who came to mourn one Lance Corporal Gerald Fitzsimmons Field.
The casket of the honored Marine was draped with a flag. His picture was prominently displayed next to the casket and an enormous floral wreath encircled it. Uniformed Marines stood off to both sides as if to still stand beside the Marine they had lost.
Tyler looked down at the card they had given him as he’d walked in. Lance Corporal Gerald Fitzsimmons Field, aka Fitz, was a mere twenty years and nine months old. He swallowed hard. He wasn’t much older at twenty four. They’d both seen the world in different ways. Tyler’s heart ached for what the young man might have seen in his twenty years and nine months.
Tyler’s three year pity party was beginning to gnaw away at his gut. As the funeral started and the minister began to talk about Fitz, Tyler felt three years solidify into a lead ball and drop into the pit of his stomach.
Unselfishly, the man they were honoring graduated high school and joined the Marines. He fought for his country. He aided those in need. He died.
Tyler had been given a sister to love and he’d run. His mother had to have gone through unspeakable battery for her to have given up a child she’d wanted. Tyler knew what kind of mother she was. She was attentive and kind. She was loving and strict with the discipline and it only made him and Spencer better people. And yet he’d abandoned her to gather his own feelings over it.
Darcy had gone on a quest to find her birth family. She’d had a good upbringing, but she needed more. She got Tyler with that bargain and he turned from her.
Tyler watched as Courtney’s shoulders moved up and down. Sobbing, he thought. Loss was a force you couldn’t fight. It didn’t give back what it took. He’d never had loss like that.