They ate without much talk, neither of them uncomfortable with the silence. “Tell me about your other job?” he asked, finally giving voice to the question repeatedly popping up in his mind.
“It’s not much really.” She gulped her water. “It helps pay the bills. I research stuff on the internet and get paid for it.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and looked away.
“What kind of things?” He pressed the issue, determined to ferret out her secret.
“Whatever I’m ask to search for. I’m sent emails and I find the information my employer is looking for. Frankly, most of the time it’s dead boring. But, like I said, it pays the bills. I’m actually quite a social person and I love being a waitress, or server, if you prefer the current terminology. But schlepping tables doesn’t pay much, even with tips. Still, people are fabulous and I love interacting with them whenever I can. I love the different festivals we have. Founder’s Day, the Christmas Craft Sale, the Harvest Festival. I hear there’s even going to be a Valentine’s event this year.” She sighed; her face stretched wide in an enormous smile which made his heart thunder happily.
Despite her avoidance of the reality of her second job, her grin made him want to kiss her. Would she taste as sweet as she smelled? She smelled of roses and peppermint. Flowers and candy. She smelled like home.
He paused, a celery stick halfway to his mouth. Home?
He wasn’t trying to get serious, just have a friendship. Especially since she had no idea about his past.
Secrets.
They were a pain in the rump. Both in having them, and wanting to know them. Local gossip, or scuttlebutt in military slang, didn’t have details of her other job.
He took a deep breath and munched his celery. Since he wasn’t innocent in the secret department, he didn’t really have the right to push for hers.
“That was an enormous sigh. Deep thoughts? Lunch not sitting right?”
“The former.” He sipped the soda he’d decided on rather than the ice water Honey had chosen. “Ever get stuck in a thought rut you can’t escape? I’m there now.”
“Always. Which rut are you stuck in? Maybe I can drag you out onto flat ground.”
Could he share? Should he?
“Have you ever done things you don’t regret; things people might not understand?” The questions didn’t properly sum up his turmoil, but they were a starting place for the conversation he was pursuing even though he knew he shouldn’t. Still better to know now if she couldn’t understand or forgive his history, rather than after he became attached to her. More attached.
“I don’t know. I don’t worry much about what people think. For sure I’ve done things people don’t agree with, but I don’t let it bother me. Why? Have you done something people don’t understand?”
Boy, had he ever.
“You were a soldier. There have to be orders you followed which you wondered about or which people not in the line of fire wouldn’t understand. I’m a firm believer that unless you’ve lived it, you don’t get it.”
“I’d agree with that.”
“Want to talk about it? We can sit in the other room and be more comfortable. There’s a nice breeze coming in through the window.” She rose gracefully to her feet and carried her plate to the sink. She rinsed it and slid it into the dishwasher.
He followed her with his dishes. “You know those things don’t require you to rinse the crumbs anymore, right?”
“True, but I only run it about once a week and if I don’t rinse, it stinks. It takes a while for one person to fill a dishwasher, even an apartment sized one like this. I should do dishes by hand, but I’m too lazy.” She grinned. “Pass me yours and I’ll rinse it too.”
“Tell me what you’ve done that people won’t understand,” she urged once they were seated at opposite ends of the couch which sat in the middle of the room, creating a separation between the living area and the entry. She sat cross legged facing him.
He angled his body toward her, one arm resting on the back, his hand hanging over the back. His hand tightened into a fist and he forced himself to relax. Bill, who lay on the floor in front of him, rose to his feet and rested his head in Ira’s lap, as if sensing Ira’s distress. He buried his fingers in the dog’s fur.
“Being a soldier isn’t easy. There were orders to follow. I did what I was told.”
“You do seem to be that type. Solid and disciplined.”
The words sounded like praise. She wouldn’t be praising him if she knew what he’d done or how many people he’d ended. It wasn’t something he enjoyed and he was conversely both ashamed and proud of his record.
“I can’t imagine you doing anything against orders. I can’t see you going on a rampage and shooting up a village, or beating up a squad mate.”
“You’re right. People who do that crap should drummed out of the core and prosecuted.”
She nodded but didn’t speak, silently encouraging him to continue.