I’m surprised he knows that much about Tyler. But I have noticedthem chatting in the warehouse recently. He’s not just that way with Tyler,either. He’s started to warm up to the rest of the guys, and I’m impressed ashell because he’s come a long way from the guy who started here two monthsago—who couldn’t get along with anyone—who was always ready for a fight.
The Uber driver drops us off at a two-story home, and as we walkup the drive, I note the well-groomed front yard with lush grass and bushes.
Jay knocks on the door, and Tyler answers. In a short-sleevedbutton-up and jeans, he wipes his hands with a towel as he offers a warm smile.“Hey, guys,” he says. “Welcome. Come on in.”
He leads us into the kitchen. Shelley stands beside the counter,holding a lid as she looks into the crockpot and studies the roast Jay told meshe’d be making for tonight. Her hair is up in a ponytail. She’s wearing ablouse and jeans, looking slightly more dressed-up than when we saw her at themovies, but still casual.
“Shelley,” Tyler says, catching her attention.
She turns and a bright grin expands across her face—one thatreminds me of Melanie’s smile.
“Oh, hi. Sorry.” She places the lid over the crockpot andapproaches us, shaking our hands. “Good seeing you guys again.” She glances ata pot on the stove. “I think we have about twenty minutes for the potatoes.Come into the dining room and I’ll fix you a drink. Did you drive?”
“We got an Uber so we could get a little wild tonight,” Jaysays.
“Good boy,” Tyler says with a mischievous smile like he’s eagerto get tipsy. I’m willing to have a drink or two, but I definitely won’t gofurther than that around an employee.
Tyler leads us into the adjoining dining room. A table thatseats six, with an orchid as the centerpiece, takes up most of the space. Jayand I take the seats on the opposite side of the room.
Shelley approaches a liquor cabinet on the wall behind us.“Uh-uh,” Tyler says. “You go finish the potatoes, and I’ll take care of theirdrinks. You can’t do all the work around here.”
“Aww…that was almost sweet,” she says, giving him a peck on thecheek before she heads back into the kitchen.
Déjà vu. It reminds me of something I would have done when I waswith Melanie before the war—before the pain. Before the heartache.
We were much younger than Shelley or Tyler. Our life was sosimple then. But after I got back from Iraq, when we tried to simulate the samesorts of get-togethers, it was different. One time, we had Caleb and his fiancéover. It was a quiet night—one that reminded us all of everything that hadchanged and that they could never be the same again.
The look on Melanie’s face that evening still haunts me, as sheforced a smile. But she couldn’t hide her sad eyes from me—that discouragedlook that seemed to ask, “Can we ever get back to what we had?”
“What do you guys want?” Tyler asks. “Vodka? Whiskey? Tequila?”
“Beer is fine with me,” I say. “I don’t want to be anytrouble.”
Tyler rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving you a goddamn beer,boss-man. Let me make you this martini that we had when we were in New Yorklast year. You both game to try that?”
For the first time, Tyler is ordering me around, and I kind oflike it. Makes me feel a little more at ease. I was worried that being his bosswould make him uneasy around me, but he seems friendlier than he usually is atthe office.
We agree to try the martini, and after Tyler fixes them, he andhis wife sit across from us.
“Where are the kids?” Jay asks.
“They’re with their granny tonight,” Shelley says. “We thoughtwe could have a little alone time for the weekend. We get some of that everyonce and a while, which is nice.”
“Yeah. We don’t have many opportunities to get out these days,”Tyler adds. “And since we both work full-time, we take free nights whenever wecan bug our relatives into giving it to us.”
“Oh, as if Granny was so put-out by it,” Shelley says with achuckle, evoking memories of Melanie in similar moments. It was the sort ofbanter we fell into. It was a fun game, playing off each other, knowing whatthe other would say or eagerly awaiting a clever remark.
We chat some more before the potatoes are finished. Shelley andTyler work together, fixing our plates, laughing together as they distributethe food.
I glance into the kitchen and catch them kissing again.
That’s what Melanie and I went from—loving and playful likeShelley and Tyler to being haunted by the cruel shell of a life that my PTSDleft us with. She tried so hard. Fought as much as she could. She wanted tosave me. But she couldn’t, and she left because it was too much for her. Andjust like when I’m transported back to the pain of war, in this moment, I’mtransported back to seeing her sad face as she sat beside me on the couch,trying to coax me out of my pain. Trying to help me. But knowing that, justlike so many other times, it wouldn’t do any good.
“You okay?” Jay asks.
“I’m fine,” I say, resting my hand on his leg and squeezing.
He sets his hand on mine, and it comforts me, but it alsoreminds me of what I have to be afraid of. Things are going well now, but likeI told Jay, they won’t always be this easy. One day, the darkness will return,a lot worse than this.
