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Purple Hearts(11)

Author:Tess Wakefield

I entered on Old North Loop 4, down to Main Street, pulling past Bolero Pharmacy. I was surprised Tim wasn’t smoking Newports in the back, his red vest uniform hanging over his shoulder. He was the one who scraped OxyContin off the stock at Bolero, sold it to Johnno at a fixed rate. An AT&T had replaced the video store, and they had put up a new sign, but everything else in Buda was the same. The grass was brownish green from drought or the remains of a drought. Minus the cement and parking meters, the curlicue roofs and red brick could have been a film set for a Western.

I rolled down the window and smelled the dust.

Jake and Hailey’s house was just down the block from where we grew up on Arikara Street, a cobalt-blue single-story behind a patch of woolly butterfly and Gulf Coast penstemon, native plants we’d learned about working landscaping for a summer in high school. A swing set made of fresh lumber peeked from the backyard. It was Sunday, and I knew the garage would be closed. Unless Jake and Hailey had started going to church more than just on Christmas and Easter, they’d be home. Still, I should have called.

I parked and walked across the street, up the sidewalk, toward the door. I’d shaved my face raw and bought clothes. Nothing special, just stiff, generic denim and a checkered button-up that still smelled like the factory. In my hand, daisies for Hailey. Under my arm, a LEGO Star Wars set for JJ. In my pocket, the letter for Jake.

Neighboring kids screeched as they ran through a sprinkler. A dog barked. I ran my hand down my face, then knocked.

Nothing.

I knocked again. No one stirred in the house. I stepped back from the door, considering tucking the letter under the mat, which was shaped like a Dallas Cowboys logo. Then I heard laughter—JJ’s, high-pitched and raucous. I held the gifts tighter, and followed the sound around to the back. When I got to the edge of the yard, I stood, unable to go farther, as if I’d hit a force field. An electric-blue shape darted into the sunlight, making loops. Jacob Junior. He’d shot up like a weed.

Hailey followed him, wearing a pink sundress and sporting a sweaty blond ponytail. She’d filled out a little since they married, and her face was wide and sun soaked. When she saw me, she stopped.

I lifted the flowers. “Hey, Hailey.”

She looked toward the house, and then back at me with a small smile. “JJ, come give Uncle Luke a hug,” she called to him.

He wrapped his arms around my legs. I put my hand on Jacob Junior’s platinum head. For a minute, my muscles relaxed.

“How old are you now, thirty-five?” I teased.

He giggled, running away. “I’m four and a half!”

Hailey smiled at me. “Hi, hon. Come here.”

Her body against mine was medicine, warmth and softness I had forgotten existed.

“Where’ve you been?” she asked into my shoulder.

“I’ve been around,” I started, but the sound of their back door opening and shutting made me pause.

Hailey let go, giving my arm a squeeze.

We turned toward Jake. His expression shifted to anger. “What’s going on, Luke?”

His dark hair was pulled back into a Cowboys cap, his sunburned shoulders bare under a clean white tank. A little chubby, hair a little curly. More of our mom in him, where I got my dad’s hard features.

“I came to talk—talk a few things over. Apologize. I’d love to sit down with you and Hailey, if you have a minute.”

Jake folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Hailey crossed the yard, lowering her voice. “Babe, I think—”

“He should not be here,” Jake argued. “That’s what the counselor said. Hard lines.”

They were probably referring to the clinic volunteer who came to meet with them shortly after I missed their wedding a few years ago, when they realized how serious my dependence was. I was supposed to be at that meeting, too.

“Hard lines when he’s—” She cut off and looked at me. “She said if you’re using, we don’t contact you.” She turned back to Jake. “You’re not even giving him a chance.”

Jake looked at JJ, who was now still, listening to the volley. “JJ, inside, please.”

“But I want—” He had spotted the LEGOs, and was pointing at them.

Jake said louder, “JJ, one, two—”

JJ snapped his hand down with an angry little grunt, and ran inside, pulling the door shut.

I stepped closer to them. “I’m in the army now. I’ve been clean for almost a year.”

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