The Last Hour (27 page)

I nodded. “Yes. I’d risk that.”

“Okay then. Enough said.”
 

It was almost an hour after we dropped off Alexandra before we reached Glen Cove, and I found my way back to Ray’s parents’ apartment building. And I won’t lie. I was scared. I was scared to walk up to that building and hit the buzzer and go upstairs and tell Ray’s parents the Army had called up their son again.

The cold hit us both as I stopped the car and we got out. It felt as if the distance from the curb to the front door of the building had tripled in length in the few days since I’d arrived in town. But we walked up there, and I pressed the buzzer. A few seconds later we heard Kate Sherman’s voice come over the tinny speaker.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Sherman?” Dylan said. “It’s Dylan Paris. And Carrie.”

We heard a pause, and then the buzzer sounded and Dylan opened the door. We walked to the elevator, and I pressed the button and we waited. Dylan paced, his movements tightly constrained, tense, as if he were trying to keep himself from exploding. His limp was bad that morning. I stood there, my own fidgeting and nervousness purely internal, as always. We rode up the elevator, and started down the hallway together.
 

Ray’s mom was outside her front door before we made it down the hall, an anxious expression on her face. She looked back and forth between us as we approached. Like her husband and son, she was a tall woman, though nowhere near my height. Every time I saw her, she wore elegant, expensive clothes, but three seasons out of date.

“Is Ray okay? What’s going on?”

We came to a stop in front of her, and Dylan said, “Can we talk for a few minutes, Mrs. Sherman? Is Ray’s dad here?”

“Just tell me what’s happening.”

He took a breath as if girding himself for a fight, and said, “The Army picked up Ray this morning. He’s been called back to active duty.”

She blanched.
 

“Maybe we should go sit down,” Dylan said.
 

He took her arm, and the three of us entered the apartment. Mrs. Sherman staggered into one of the seats at the kitchen table, and I said, “Can I get you some water?”

She nodded. “Thank you, Carrie.”

I quickly got the water for her and sat down.

“How could the Army call him back to active duty? Tell me what’s happening. Why hasn’t he called?”

Dylan closed his eyes then asked, “Has Ray told you anything about why the Army and FBI have been questioning him?”

She shook her head. “Almost nothing. He said he reported a crime in Afghanistan, but wouldn’t go into any detail.”

Dylan frowned, met my eyes, and turned back to her. “Mrs. Sherman, Ray witnessed a war crime. It sounds like they’re pulling him on active duty to ensure he’s available to testify when and if they have a court-martial.”

She sagged in her seat and then whispered, “Michael is at the restaurant this morning. Should I call him?”

Dylan shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done right now. This may drag on for months.”

I said, “I’m pretty sure the battery in his phone is dead, or he would have called.”

She gave me a dismissive look, then turned to Dylan. I kept my mouth shut, and put my hands in my lap, where the table blocked her view of me clenching my fists. This wasn’t the first time she’d been rude to me, in at least a couple of instances inexcusably so. But right now, given the circumstances, I was going to let this go.
 

Until, a few minutes later, she said, “I suppose I should call Laura and let her know.”

Dylan blinked. “Ray’s ex? They broke up years ago.”

The tension that ran down my spine right then almost caused a back spasm. Maybe she was just being protective of her little boy. Maybe she was playing some catty game, trying to put me in my place. But I was left with no doubt that her intention was to hurt when her eyes darted to me, then back to Dylan, and she said, “Yes, but they’ve been close friends since middle school.”

Dylan looked confused and said, “I don’t think Ray would thank you for that.”

I stood up. “Excuse me, I need to get some air. Dylan, I’ll meet you in the car.”

Kate Sherman stood up, her eyes cold, and said, “Are you sure you can’t stay?”

“I’m quite sure.”

“Perhaps we should exchange numbers.”

As distasteful as it was, she was right about that. So we did, and I got out of there as quickly as I could. Less than five minutes later, Dylan joined me in the car, and I pulled out of there faster than was safe or legal.
 

“What was all that about?” Dylan asked.

I shook my head. “No idea. But I wasn’t sticking around to listen to any more.”

“I can’t imagine what she was thinking. Ray hasn’t spoken with Laura in two years or more.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t about her at all. Ray’s mom doesn’t like me, for whatever reason, and she was just on autopilot.”

“Don’t let it get to you.”

“I’ve got more important things to worry about,” I said.

An hour later I had dropped Dylan off, and immediately headed out of town for the drive to Washington, DC. That was the last time I had seen or spoken with Ray’s parents before the hearing. I was tense now. I was worried about Sarah, in the ICU, and I was terrified for Ray, still in surgery. I didn’t think I was ready to deal with a hostile mother-in-law on top of all that.
 

It didn’t look like I was going to have much choice. And of course I would never do anything to keep her away from Ray. I just wished she would leave me alone. Somewhere along the line she’d missed the message that Ray and I were married, and that was a choice Ray had taken out of her hands.

And maybe, in the end, that was her problem. Maybe it had nothing to do with me at all. Maybe it was simply that Ray, first by joining the Army, and second by marrying me, had clearly taken his life in his own hands and out of hers.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Alexandra said.

I shrugged. “It feels selfish. But I’m dreading them getting here.”

“Sometimes I think dealing with in-laws is the worst.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s Dylan’s mom like?” At the moment, Dylan was sitting a few seats down from us, leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, mouth open.
 

She gave me a rueful smile. “Aside from blaming me for his injury? She’s a real piece of work. I mean ... I admire her in some ways. She’s been through hell and back, and turned her life around. But at the same time ... she let Dylan go through hell for a lot of years before she finally straightened up. His childhood was a nightmare.”

I grimaced. “He’s come out of it pretty well.”

“Only through sheer force of will.”

Alexandra’s phone rang. She grabbed it out of her purse and answered it, then nodded and stood up. This was it. Ray’s parents were here. I stood too, and we walked to the door to the ICU, and she pressed the metal button on the wall to slide the doors open.

Michael and Kate Sherman walked through the door. Michael, Ray’s dad, stood a full six-foot eight inches tall. He had a haunted look in his eyes as he and his wife walked through the doors, and he walked straight to me and pulled me into a hug.

“I’m so relieved you’re okay, Carrie,” he said. A lump formed in my throat when I realized he smelled like Ray.

I was flooded with relief. At least Michael wasn’t going to be difficult. But Kate gave me a cold look all the same. I broke off from the hug, and rather than even try to approach her, I led them to chairs against the wall and we sat.

“Tell me what’s happening,” she said. “I want to speak to his doctors, too.”

“Right now he’s in emergency surgery,” I said.

She gasped. “Still? The accident was—how many hours ago?”

“Eleven this morning. Mrs. Sherman ... Ray was hurt very badly.” I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to tell her just how badly. I didn’t want to repeat what the doctors had told me about his condition or his prognosis.

She stiffened and turned to Michael and said, “I knew we should have taken a flight. What kind of incompetence is this? He’s been in surgery for eight hours?”

“Kate,” Michael said. “Let’s find out the situation before we jump to—”

She cut him off. “No. It’s clear she’s mismanaged this whole situation. If I’d been here my son wouldn’t still be surgery, he’d be recovering. He wouldn’t have been in the accident
in the first place
if it wasn’t for her.”

I didn’t think. It was just a reaction, and it was instant, but before the words were even completely out of her mouth, I raised my hand and slapped her. Every head in the room turned toward us as I cried out, “How
dare
you?”

She gasped, rage on her face. Michael grabbed her arm and said, “Kate, please stop. This isn’t helping. I know you’re upset, but Carrie’s his
wife
.”

“Listen to me, you witch,” I said, my voice in a low hiss. “I know you love him, and I know he’s your son, but he’s my husband, and I won’t have you come in here and speak to me that way. Do you understand me?”

She froze in shock, staring at me with wide eyes. I was shaking with rage I didn’t even know I had.

“O
h, my God, did she really just do that?”
Sarah’s face reflected a mix of shock and delight.

I was standing to Carrie’s right, in between her and my mother, and at that point I’d have done just about anything to really be there, and able to do something. I know Mom was upset. I know she was probably crazy with fear and grief. But did she somehow think Carrie wasn’t? Did she think she could come in here and just dump all that on Carrie?

I shushed Sarah.

My mother swallowed, staring at Carrie, then turned her back on her and walked to the opposite corner of the waiting room. Dad was left standing, facing Carrie, and looking like he wanted to sink into the floor or become invisible like me.
 

He struggled for a second to say something ... then shook his head and merely muttered, “Sorry, Carrie,” and walked over and stood next to my mom. He leaned close to her, whispering something, and from the fierce expression on her face, she wasn’t happy about whatever it was.
 

Carrie was breathing heavily, as if an influx of adrenaline had suddenly dumped into her system. Alex and Jessica watched her, concern and shock on their faces. Dylan approached and put a hand on her shoulder and murmured, “Let it roll off, Carrie. She’ll chill eventually, okay?”

Carrie nodded, then sat down again, opposite from Mom. They looked like a couple of boxers, squared off in opposite corners, and I didn’t like that at all. I loved Carrie, and I loved my parents. And sometimes the things people do when they’re afraid or under stress aren’t nearly as attractive or smart or kind as we’d like. And both Carrie and Mom were afraid and stressed.

Of course Mom had made it clear early on that she didn’t care for Carrie. I think I sort of understood why, too. My Mom and Dad had dated a very long time ... years ... before they’d finally settled on marriage. It scared the crap out of her that just a few weeks after coming home from Afghanistan I’d fallen for someone so quickly. It hadn’t helped that at Christmas dinner, I’d told them that not only did I love Carrie, but I intended to marry her as quickly as possible.

“It’s too quick,” my mother had said. “You hardly know this girl.”

“I know her well enough,” I replied.
 

“You’re too young to be making those kinds of life changing decisions. Especially so soon after…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the term
war.

Dad interjected, “He’s older than we were when we got married, Kate. Leave the kid alone.”

Although I didn’t care for being called a kid, I was still grateful for Dad’s support. Really, it had been intolerable that I even had to have this conversation. There I was, twenty-six years old, home from the war, with no place to go other than to my parents’ house. But seriously, what else was I going to do? It hadn’t made a whole lot of sense to make more permanent arrangements until I knew where I’d be going to school in the fall. There had been no doubt in my mind that would be Washington, DC, either at American University or Georgetown. But what if I didn’t get accepted? I didn’t see myself going anywhere far from Carrie. I sure as hell wasn’t planning to go out to Berkeley, or back to Stony Brook for that matter. Which undoubtedly had added to my mother’s anger at Carrie.

I sank into a chair near Carrie, but not close enough to disturb her. I’d learned from that last time I touched her. Sarah was right: my presence, that close, brought only grief and loss. Sarah settled in next to me, and said, “Is your Mom always like that?”

I shook my head. “No. But this isn’t exactly normal circumstances.”

“No shit. I can’t wait until your mother and mine meet up. I wonder if we can get body armor for everyone else.”

“A long as they leave Carrie alone.”

“I’ve never seen her go off like that before.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Carrie’s a tiger when it comes to defending or protecting the rest of us. But on her own behalf? It’s never really been like that.”