She waited for him to continue.
He hesitated. “I know what you’re thinking—that seeing them would bring back bad memories—but nobody knows those like me and my brothers.”
“When you think of your buddies over there, how does it feel? Physically, I mean.”
He gnawed on his lower lip while he thought that over. Automatically, Marion noted that it was not a compulsive action. Nothing irrational or concerning. Just an ordinary man, making an ordinary movement, thinking about the least ordinary thing.
“My body hurts,” he replied gruffly. “Like I got ripped out of a place where I should be. They need me.”
“You’ve said that before. You’d still go back.”
“In a heartbeat.”
“You are a braver person than I, my friend. The Canadian Red Cross just put out a call looking for more surgeons to go to Vietnam, but I can’t imagine doing that.”
“You’re not a surgeon, though.”
“Actually, I am. I loved doing surgery. Especially in an emergency room.”
“How’d you end up a shrink?”
“I got sick in school and was unable to physically continue the specialty. I still wanted to be in the medical field, so I changed direction and studied psychiatry instead.”
“Well, if you change your mind about going, I’d be the best security guard you could ever imagine.”
She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Daniel, I need to ask you one more question.”
“Shoot.”
She pushed past the pang in her heart. “Do you think you will be all right, living outside of the care you’re being given here?”
His brow lifted. “I was ready weeks ago, Doc. I’m just saving money with free rent and meals.”
Just then, the nurse walked through the doorway carrying a steaming tray of tea and hot chocolate. “Here we are!”
Henry, the card player at the next table, shot out of his chair and raced toward the nurse, overcome by thirst. The nurse stepped out of his way, Henry kept going, and the tray of hot drinks crashed to the floor, shattering the cups.
When Marion glanced back from the disaster, Daniel was crouched under their table, his expression blank. He’d been facing away, she remembered, so he’d been unprepared. With shock, she realized she saw her father in Daniel’s face in that moment.
“Daniel?” Marion whispered. She crouched beside him. “You’re all right.”
He didn’t move. It was a moment before he even blinked.
“Daniel? It’s me, Dr. Hart. I’m with you. You’re all right. You’re safe.”
Focus slowly returned to his gaze, like ice melting, and his hands began to shake. He closed his eye, ashamed, and Marion’s throat swelled with sympathy. So much strength and courage and dedication, now so small, huddled beneath a table.
“Why are you behind the furnace, Daddy?”
Her mother entering, taking her hand. “Come along, Marion. Let’s leave your father in peace.”
Marion set her fingertips on the back of Daniel’s right hand, and it stilled. Without looking at her, he gently turned his hand over and interlaced his fingers with hers. Marion’s pulse raced at the contact. They both sat motionless, waiting for their hearts to slow.
At last, he let out a breath. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and she felt his hold ease.
She tightened hers, unwilling to relinquish the unexpected touch and the feelings it had released in her. There was something connecting their palms, and it felt vital. A kind of electricity built on trust. He needed her, but it was more than that. She needed him. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
