Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)(26)

“What would you have explained?” she tossed out into the darkness. After all, when he did finally show up, she hadn’t given him a second of her attention. She had been so angry, it had been hard not to throw things!

But he didn’t answer. They both just lay in their respective beds. Then there was a little movement from his side of the room and she saw his shadow, then his silhouette as he leaned over her. He gently sat on the edge of her bed. He brushed away the strands of hair that had escaped her braid. “When I decided to go back in the Corps, I’d just learned something that left me really confused.”

“What, Denny?”

He took a breath. “Right before my mom died, she told me my dad wasn’t really my dad. My real father was some other guy she hadn’t seen or heard from in over twenty years. Then she died. For some reason, that news messed me up, made me feel more orphaned than ever. I couldn’t believe how confused I felt. How alone I was.”

She could see him shrug in the darkness.

“Because of the way I felt when I was in the Corps with Big Richie and the boys, I just went back to the recruiter and signed up and took the oath.”

“But what about me?” she asked in a whisper. “Did you feel alone even though you had me?”

“You were all I had—I didn’t have anyone but you. But you were stretched kinda thin, babe. You had a family, a sorority, a college, a surfing team, a lot of friends…and you lived and went to school in another city. I had to have something I could attach to, something bigger than me, something that felt important. I really needed to be needed. That’s one thing about the Marine Corps—they can make you feel like you’re doing something important.” He laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Talk about feeling needed…”

“You know, if you’d just told me that before…”

“I had a real hard time making any sense to myself, much less someone else. Then when I got orders for Afghanistan, I couldn’t let you go through what I just went through burying my mom. I couldn’t think about you missing me or being lonely or, worst case, being grief stricken. So I talked myself into the idea that we’d break up for a year. I didn’t like the idea but I figured if you had your freedom, even went out with a few guys, I could live with that if it kept you safe from being all ripped up about me. What I didn’t figure on was you being so furious at the whole idea you’d never want to see me again.”

“I didn’t say that,” she said. “I never said that!”

“Not before I left. But after I got back.”

“Well, by then I was that furious. I’d just spent the whole year you were in Afghanistan staying up all night, every night, watching news reports on the war. I’d written you and emailed you and…”

“I didn’t have internet access very often, but I still have the letters. By the time I was back in the States, I had to work through a couple of injuries before I could get away so I could talk to you face-to-face, to try to explain.”

“You waited too long,” she said, shaking her head.

“I know, Becca. I never said you had any fault in it. I was completely screwed up. I made so many mistakes. I’m really sorry I hurt you. It’s no excuse, but I was twenty-two. And I’d barely gotten back from Iraq when my mom took a turn for the worse. When I look back on all that, it’s like a fog. I don’t even remember it very well. I’m kind of surprised I didn’t step in front of a bus or something, I was such a total idiot. But I’m sorry, really sorry. And…”

She gave him plenty of time to finish and when he didn’t, she pushed a little. “And…?”

“Thanks for letting me try to explain now. I know it’ll never make much sense, but thanks…”

“But that business about your father?” she asked.

“Yet another misunderstanding, but I don’t think it was a mistake. See, my mom told me Jack Sheridan was my father, not the man we lived with till I was about seven. So I came up here to find him. It turned out my mom wasn’t telling the truth about that. I think she wanted to give me a gift before she died, a man to look up to instead of the one I had, the one who not only never married my mom but never supported me after he left. So I came up here to find Jack.”

“Oh, Denny….”

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. It worked out. For a little while, we thought we were father and son and we got close. But the thing is, once we realized it wasn’t that way, it didn’t change anything. We’re still just as tight, and that’s what I learned—sometimes you make your family. One of the best days of my life was when I found Jack and the rest of this town. It’s the closest thing to family I’ve ever had. They rely on me. It feels good.” He stroked her forehead. “You should get some sleep.” And then he leaned down and kissed her forehead right before moving to his mattress on the floor.

The room was bathed in darkness, a silent, black womb in which they both kept their thoughts private. Becca had no idea what Denny might be thinking, but she was remembering the boy she’d loved. He was such a beautiful and happy young man, so energetic and positive and supportive. He had joined the Corps the same time as her brother, and for the same reasons—both of them were very physical, very patriotic and there was the little incidental fact that neither of them was sure what to do with the rest of their lives. The Corps toughened them up, educated them in ways they hadn’t expected, and as Denny said, gave them vital attachments.