He looked confused now. But I was getting better at reading him. Granted, it had been only two days, but still. I was cracking him open, slowly but surely.
“If I said something that bothered you, or did something . . .”
“Huh?” He cocked his head to the side and studied my face, the cart, our surroundings. “What makes you say that?”
There were people walking by, looking at us as we stood right in the center of the aisle.
An older white man passed us, keeping his eyes on Kael and me just a beat too long. I noticed his lingering stare, shifting back and forth between us, and the hairs on my neck prickled. The man disappeared around the corner. I almost mentioned it to Kael, but I started wondering if I was just paranoid, and decided not to give the rude man any more attention than I already had.
“I don’t know. I just feel like you’re . . .” I tried to explain myself. I hated that I was so easily at a loss for words sometimes.
He wrapped his hands around the handle on the cart and took over pushing it.
“If something was wrong, I’d say it. I’m just in my own head.” His tone wasn’t condescending or wrapped in a lie.
I appreciated the honesty. It made me feel like I understood what he was doing instead of making it all about myself. And maybe, unlike with my family, the silence didn’t need to be filled while grocery shopping. Kael looked at the list again and pulled the pen out of the sewn-in holder on his ACU jacket. He marked off three items, using a dash next to each one instead of striking them out, the way I always did. I found the tiniest things about him fascinating, and my thoughts began to form themselves into a little cloud that turned into a daydream. I used the silence between us as we browsed the aisles to think about how different we were, why my brother hadn’t called me, and what I needed to do before I could leave for work.
The commissary was crowded as always, but I felt less stressed over the crowd and more at ease than I had been since we’d left the house. Kael still hadn’t spoken as he put three boxes of granola bars into his part of the cart.
“I have some—”
“Not anymore.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
“You ate my granola bars?”
He laughed. If I hadn’t turned around, I would have missed it. “Mostly,” he replied, smiling a little.
Kael stayed ‘in his own head’ for the rest of the grocery shopping, and he found everything on my list before we got in line behind three extra-stuffed carts. The low prices on groceries with zero tax were worth braving the crowd.
“So many people,” I said to him as we waited.
Kael nodded, looking over at me. His elbows were leaning on the cart. “So many people giving their money right back to the government,” he said, nodding at all the people in uniforms and their spouses.
“You’re always complaining.” I heard the voice before I saw her approach. It was a soft, feminine voice to match an equally beautiful face. “Martin, never thought I’d see you at the commissary. What the hell are you doing here?” She laughed, knocking his arm gently.
She was wearing ACUs that matched his. Turner was written on her name patch. She was below him in rank; I could tell by the difference in the patches on their chests.
“Just getting some actual food,” he responded to her.
She smiled at him in a way that made me feel like I was intruding on them. Her teeth were so straight, I could tell she’d had braces in her past, and her dark brown eyes had thick, maybe fake, eyelashes sprouting out of them. They were so pretty and delicately placed that it didn’t matter if they were real or not. The color of her hair matched them perfectly. Her boots were scotch clean, and she wasn’t wearing a bit of makeup. I wished I didn’t feel so instantly threatened by the presence of another woman. I was feeling a little more sure of myself this morning, but I was sort of distracted by her beauty as they briefly caught up.
I was hardly on her level, or Kael’s, and I knew they were probably aware of that. They were sure of themselves, enlisted into an organized, structured career, and both immediately charming. I felt awkward and embarrassed by my thoughts.
“When did you get here? I heard you were sent back but didn’t know it already happened. Where are you staying?”
He sighed. “With a friend.”
The girl looked at me, smiling still.
“Turner. And you’re?” she asked me, reaching out her hand. It felt so formal to handshake in the line at the grocery store, but there I was. Unsure what to do with my body and my mouth.
“This is Karina. She’s Phillip’s wife’s friend,” Kael answered for me, gently pressing her hand down between us so I didn’t have to shake it.
Her chin pointed up. “Oh, the French girl?”
I couldn’t read her. I couldn’t tell if she was being judgmental of my friend or if she was merely stating a fact. She was a blank sheet of paper that I couldn’t read a word from.
“Yeah,” he spoke for me again.
I felt like hiding behind him. I wasn’t usually so easily intimidated, and I tried to reclaim how I felt when I looked in the mirror this morning. That confidence had evaporated and I was collapsing in on myself as the noise around us continued to escalate.
Turner stood there for a few seconds, waiting for one of us to talk. I knew she couldn’t care less if I spoke, she wanted to talk to Kael.
“Well, see you? I’ll call you later. Does everyone else know you’re back?” she asked, leaning toward him. He moved a sly step away from her. At least it wasn’t only me who he kept at a distance.
“No. Don’t tell them,” he said to her.
“I’ll try to keep my mouth shut.” She laughed to herself, flirting with him. If I could see that, he definitely could. And in front of me? How did she know I wasn’t his girlfriend? I guess she must know him well enough to not assume that. The thought rubbed at me, making my lungs burn. I would do anything to be back in the quiet comfort of home.
Neither of them said bye, but she walked away after what felt like an hour.
“Do you know her?” Kael asked me. I blinked out of my unnecessary jealousy and shook my head.
“I don’t think so.”
“Hmm,” he said under his breath.
“You do, though,” I reminded him. If he could ask me if I did, why couldn’t I do the same?
Of course, when I did, he gave me a simple “I do.”
It was finally our turn to load the groceries. He stopped me from lifting the gallon of milk.
“I can lift milk.” I rolled my eyes.
He looked down at my wrists. “You need those hands for work. More than I need mine. I know you’re capable, I’m trying to be a nice guy.”
I glared at him. “I was trying to be nice, too.”
“I know. I’m just fucking with you. Let me put the milk up there.” His voice was lighter than it was a moment ago, a different tone than I had ever heard come from his lips. It made my skin tingle. I looked away.
“Fine,” I teased back.
My throat was aching.
Kael managed to move around me in the small space as I went to the cashier. He knew exactly how to toe that fine line between being open and closed. The music overhead was louder; it had to be. A song from my childhood, one that my mom used to scream out the window as we drove from garage sale to garage sale on the weekends, played through the loudspeakers. With each of these memories, I began to feel more and more unsettled. Why were all my thoughts of her so fond lately? I still should be too pissed to care that she’s gone. When would my mother stop haunting me?