The question cut deeper than it should have. She was a stranger, a nobody that I’d see off and on for the next forty-one days and never have to lay eyes on again. Yet her opinion of me mattered for reasons I couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“Serving my country,” I replied. Then, because my need to defend myself to her was rubbing me raw, I added, “Why? Where have you been, Mercy?”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Serving the people of my country, the children and the moms left behind. You get thirty days of leave a year. That means you could have used any one of the two hundred and ten days you were allotted over the past seven years to come home and see her. Yet, you didn’t.”
Mercy was full of surprises, and the icicles she glared at me dug deep. “Were you in the military?” I asked, knowing full well she hadn’t been. She was too young, too soft, to pure.
“No. I looked it up online. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell Beth—Iwould never hurt her like that—but your mom is intelligent, so I’m sure she knows you could have come home and chose not to.”
She was way out of line, and I didn’t need some uninformed chick poking her nose in my family’s affairs, no matter how beautiful she was. “I don’t think that’s any of your business. But coming home isn’t always as easy as you’d think it would be.” I was still defending myself! Un-fucking-believable.
She scanned my face, searching for something, but hell if I could figure out what. Nor could I tell if she found it. Finally, she sighed and gestured toward the three-story apartment complex across the street. “This is me. Thanks for walking me home.”
Apparently, our conversation (if you could call it that) was over. Before I had time to object or plead my case further, she marched across the street and up the exterior stairs to the second landing. She stopped long enough to unlock her door before disappearing behind it, not once looking back at me.
Irritated, confused, and strangely intrigued, I headed back to the house. Mercy was right, and I should have come home earlier. I had a lot to make up for. And I was looking forward to Mom’s homemade pot pie.
