Hadley & Grace(94)
She was a bit of a mess when she first showed up. Grace thought it impossible for Hadley not to be beautiful, but the woman who arrived on their doorstep a month after their own arrival in Namibia was not the same woman they had left in the States. She was drawn and gaunt, her skin was sallow and pale, and there was a vacancy about her that was terrifying.
Shell shocked, Jimmy said. He had seen it before. Soldiers, who in battle ran on adrenaline and then, when it was over, crashed, as if suffering a delayed response to the traumatic events that they had experienced. Not so much PTSD as a shutting down, an almost comatose state of debilitating moroseness, like they had been anesthetized.
Slowly, she has gotten better, the kids seeming to provide the antidote she needs. But every now and then, Grace still catches her staring off into space, her thoughts far away, as if thinking about something or trying to puzzle it out, a confused expression on her face, like no matter how hard she tries, she can’t quite make sense of it.
“They won!” Skipper exclaims as the game buzzer goes off, sealing the game. He knuckle knocks each of them, even walking around the seat to fist pump Mark, who is still draped over Jimmy’s shoulder.
Grace stands and gathers their bags. She still uses the diaper bag she carried on their fateful journey a year ago, the bag a reminder of all that happened and where it led. Hadley rolled her eyes when she pulled it out to pack it as her hospital bag. The Kmart-purchased pouch was ratty and stained, the handles threadbare and the front pocket torn.
Grace is pretty sure Hadley had her eye on a bag from the new Gucci for Babies line. They could have afforded it. They’ve done well with their money. Windhoek, Namibia, is one of the fastest-growing cities in the world, and providing parking in the congested downtown has turned out to be a lucrative business. They started off subleasing lots from businesses and now own two parcels of their own and are in the process of buying two more.
Grace runs the business side of things. Jimmy runs the day-to-day operations. And Hadley rolls her eyes a lot, offers far too many opinions, and takes care of the domestic life—a three-way partnership that works remarkably well.
As they make their way from the stands, Jimmy talks to Tillie about the upcoming stock car race at Killarney. “I’m putting my money on Frikkie,” he says.
“That’s because you’re a fool,” Tillie says. “McGrath has it this year.”
Tillie has become an avid racing fan. She loves cars, racing, and anything to do with cars and racing. Her dream is to become the next Danica Patrick, though she wants to drive Formula One, not NASCAR.
“You can’t pick a winner based on how cute the driver is,” Jimmy protests.
“Put your money where your mouth is.”
“Fine,” Jimmy says. “A hundred grand.”
Grace smiles.
“Two hundred,” Tillie shoots back.
Jimmy shakes his head. “Too rich. I’m still broke from the last race.”
“Fine. A hundred. But if you lose, you’re taking me to the Rallycross Championship.”
Jimmy spits on his hand and holds it out. Tillie spits on her own hand, and they shake.
Grace makes a mental note to order more Monopoly money. Jimmy is going to lose, and he is going to need a loan from the bank. She can already see it coming.
Jimmy has adapted remarkably well to life outside the army. She did a jig when she discovered Jimmy’s sentence for his involvement was only six months in prison. The charges were eluding police in three states and aiding and abetting known criminals. He was given leniency because of his military service and because his lawyer did a brilliant job defending his crimes as a heroic act of passion for his pregnant wife and child.
A week after he was released, he boarded a plane to Africa using his brother’s passport, arriving a week before Mark entered the world.
Grace chose Namibia because it is one of the most stable nonextradition countries in the world and because the national language is English. They have found living here is a lot like living in America, except they are a minority, and every once in a while, a zebra, rhino, or giraffe will stroll across the road.
Before Jimmy even unpacked his bags, Hadley had him enrolled in Gamblers Anonymous. There is no program in Windhoek, so he attends online meetings, and Hadley is all over him about not missing them.
Jimmy has learned quickly that enduring an hour-long meeting is preferable to being harangued for the next month for not holding up his end of the bargain. Grace pretends to be on Jimmy’s side when he complains, but secretly she cheers Hadley, knowing that the reason she’s being a pit bull is for her.
So, nowadays, the only gambling Jimmy does is with Skipper and Tillie using play money. Tillie leads, with close to six million in the bank. Skipper is a distant second, with two million, refusing to bet on anyone but his favorites. And Jimmy is always broke, a reminder that he sucks as a gambler.
As they walk, Grace watches them—her family, so perfect and fragile it terrifies her. Jimmy assures her it will be okay, but it all feels tenuous as a butterfly’s life, and it takes constant convincing for her to believe him, his optimism warring against her paranoia that something so perfect can’t last.
“Grace, are you on vacation or are you going to give me a hand?” Hadley says, breaking Grace from her thoughts.
Grace scoops Miles into her arms, and immediately he wriggles to get down. She raspberries his belly, causing him to squeal and distracting him long enough for Hadley to open the stroller.