Cheryl Wyatt - A Soldier's Family

“Miss Munez?” A nurse stepped from the room, followed by Joel and Amber.

Celia whirled, noting immediately the peculiar expressions coating Amber and Joel’s faces. Celia cleared her throat and faced the nurse. “Yes?”

“Mr. Péna would like a word with you.”

“Excuse me?” Celia craned her neck at the woman and pushed curls behind her ear. She couldn’t possibly have heard right.

“Mr. Péna?” The nurse hiked a thumb at his door. “Would like. To speak. With you.” She pointed a finger at Celia as if Celia didn’t know who or what “you” meant.

Celia scowled and fought the urge to mimic the nurse’s slowly enunciated speech pattern. Like she couldn’t understand English or something. The kind of technique she and Amber used when teaching letter blends and phonics to students. Celia had a masters in English, for crying out loud.

Though it practically killed her to be humble, Celia nodded and folded her hands in a gesture of gratitude. “Gracias.” Okay, so she still had a little mean streak.

Headed for Manny’s door, Celia slanted her eyes at two newlywed grins on smug faces as she passed by on her way to—what?

World War Three?

Or a peace talk?

Doom music sounded in Celia’s mind while she shuffled one foot in front of the other, as if headed for the guillotine. She drew in a fortifying breath, hopefully not her last, and pushed open Manny’s door.

Ready or not, here it comes.

“Hey.” He shot her a sheepish grin above covers that went nearly to his scraped chin.

“Hay? That’s the first stage of horse poop,” she countered.

By the confusion sifting across his face, Celia wondered if he’d taken a pain shot, after all. Then his expression righted itself. An uncomfortable tension drew the walls too close together, causing the air to get stuffy. She guessed the guy wasn’t one for jokes.

Her shoulders stiffened under his scrutiny. “So…”

“So. Why don’t you have a seat?” Manny gestured to the chair. Not the farthest chair from him, but not the closest, either. Okay. This was progress, right?

Meeting in the middle. Coming to a compromise.

Mechanical creaks sounded as he raised the head of his bed by pushing a button on the rail before looking back at her. “I wrote you a letter. I must not have got the right address because it came back to me.”

She dipped her head. “Uh, no. Actually, I sent it back.”

He nodded as if he already knew. “I wanted you to read it.” He stared intently at her. Dark, searching eyes. Ones she wouldn’t want to mess with in a deserted alley in a dangerous neighborhood. Like the one she’d grown up in.

She flipped curls behind her ear. “Yeah, well, I didn’t.”

This conversation was going nowhere.

Why did he stare at her all serious like that? Did the doctor find a tumor in his MRI or something? The guy wasn’t cracking a smile for nothing.

“I wrote another letter. Joel has it.”

“And you want me to read it.”

“It explains a lot.”

“Like why you pawed me at the wedding?” She flashed a cheeky grin, but he didn’t laugh.

Manny spread dark hands over the white blanket. “Look, no matter how we feel about each other, we have to put Joel’s and Amber’s feelings above our own.” His dark face set in consternation with the words. Like he’d rehearsed them almost.

Wait. What had he said?

No matter how we feel? Then that meant he still couldn’t stand her, right? He hadn’t respected her at the wedding. Thought she was easy. Well, fine. That worked both ways.

Or could he just be feeling her out? Seeing if she could be someone he could thaw to and build a friendship with?

He braced one hand on the side rail; with the other he adjusted a lumpy pillow behind his back. Wishing to spare his independence and dignity, she fought the urge to assist him. He finally managed.

The pillow made a shushing sound when he leaned back against it. “So, let’s try to get along. At least pretend to when they’re around if we can’t manage it.”

Pretend? Who’s pretending? Now, that ticked her off. “Fine.”

But it wasn’t. Why did his words crush her so? Somehow she’d let herself hope friendship with Manny could be real and that she could mean something to him. Something more than a frivolous ending to a drunken evening. Someone he didn’t have to work so hard to try and be civil to. Absolutely no respect.

Zero.

Why had she hoped there would be? Because she’d grown to respect him through Joel’s stories. Admiration had grown through what contact they’d had since that day at the school year before last. The team had shown up to surprise leukemia-laden Bradley, who’d wished to meet a real Special Forces soldier face-to-face.

Now one of them had become his dad, making Manny like an uncle to Bradley and a brother-in-law to her best friend, Amber. Joel’s team had a brotherly bond she’d never seen before. It was special and unbreachable, yet the entire team had pulled her and Amber into the circle with open arms and hearts.

Except she and Manny had ruined that, strained the camaraderie by acting like a couple of junior-high kids at what was supposed to be a joyous celebration of Joel and Amber’s life together. It had jarred Celia’s confidence when Manny had shattered her hope of being his friend by suggesting she leave with him to his hotel—alone. Clearly, a friend is not how he saw her. How cheap that had made her feel.

It stung worse than he could ever know.

“I’d like to know what you’re thinking,” he surprised her by asking. She surprised herself by stepping backward, running into the chair she’d never sat in. It screeched just like her nerves at how he didn’t take his eyes off her, and seemed to notice every microscopic move. Manny eyed the displaced chair, then her. Those eyes. Like they saw right through her.

And maybe cared about the turmoil? Her throat tightened.

No. He wouldn’t like to know what she was thinking. Celia took another step back. And another, clutching her handbag against her stomach to stop the quiver.

In fact, she didn’t want to know what she was thinking, either.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Manny glanced at the chair in the middle again. “You’re making me nervous.”

Him? She was making herself nervous.

Rather than flee and make a fool of herself, she promptly sat. She was not good in this type of situation. Her mouth got her in trouble so often she was afraid to open it in front of Manny and lose her footing with this friendship. If it could be salvaged. This was important to Amber, so Celia would push through it. Speaking of…

She eyed the door, where Joel and Amber’s mingled voices and conjoined laughter bounced off corridor walls.

Manny must have heard it, too. He smiled. “I think we’ve been sabotaged.”

For the first time since walking in, she grinned and it felt genuine. “I think so.”

Manny targeted his gaze at her black eye, which she knew makeup did little to hide. “You look awful.”

Celia grinned. “Thanks. So you do you.”

He tilted his head and pinched the corners of his eyes a little. “What happened?”

She lowered her face at his soft, interested tone. “I had a scuffle with the lawn mower and lost.” She didn’t want anyone knowing about that. So why’d she just blab to Manny?

“I have a hard time believing you could lose a fight.” He rubbed fingers across his lip for emphasis. Then grinned as big as she’d ever seen him.

Ouch. She resented that remark.

Okay, out with it. She draped her jacket across her arm, then crossed the other arm over it. “Oh. Yeah. About that. I’m sorry I smacked you. It was inexcusable.”

His smile faded and his eyes softened even more. “To be fair, how I acted was more inexcusable. That’s what I wrote in the letter.”