Uncle Sarge

“I’m so sorry, Richie. It was so stupid of me to leave the Parkers after I graduated and not tell anybody where I was. I was so upset about you going overseas and leaving me behind, I wasn’t thinking clearly. At the time, I really thought you didn’t want to be bothered with me.”

“You know that wasn’t why I couldn’t take you. I explained it.” Rich’s throat was still tight, his voice husky, but he swallowed and went on. “I was just an airman. We had to have orders just to pi—” Remembering where he was, he stopped.

“I know that now.” She paused, her welcoming smile gone, replaced by one more melancholy. One that matched the dull blue of her eyes. “Mike explained it all to me.”

Rich sucked in a deep breath. He had hoped they could avoid the topic of her husband. He wasn’t sure he knew what to say to a woman who’d been hurt and bereaved all at the same time. Even if she was his sister. “I’m sorry….” It seemed so inadequate, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“I wish you could have known him,” Sherry said, her eyes misty, her voice thick. “He was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She paused. “Him and the kids.” She reached through the apparatus and wiped at her eyes.

“Yeah.” Rich didn’t know what else to say. His eyes burned like crazy and for a moment his world looked as though he were seeing it through rippled glass. He swallowed. He was supposed to be strong for Sherry.

He rubbed at his stinging eyes with the back of his hand and looked away. When his vision finally cleared and the lump in his throat shrank from baseball to golf-ball size, he looked back. Sherry was looking at something on the tray table at the side of her bed and making no effort to disguise her streaming eyes.

“This is a picture of us,” she said, her voice watery and thin. “We took it at Easter. It was one of the rare moments we were all dressed up at the same time.”

Rich followed the direction of her gaze and focused on the framed picture of a happy family. The lump in his throat swelled once more. It was past tense. Sherry’s husband would never pose with them again.

“Sometimes it doesn’t seem real,” Sherry said, her voice cracking. “But at night I get snatches of memory. I hear the rain. I feel the moisture on my face. I see Mike lying so impossibly still.” She sniffed back more tears. “I remember the policeman muttering to his partner about the guy being a goner.

“I couldn’t even go to the funeral.” She broke down then, her sobs wracking and harsh.

He had no idea what to do, so he took her hand and held on. He squeezed it from time to time until she stopped weeping. “I’m so sorry, Sherry. I wish it had never happened. I wish I had been there for you.” Rich paused. “Hell, I wish I could’ve taken you to Germany with me. Maybe, none of this would have happened.”

“No,” Sherry said, her tone emphatic. “My time with Mike was short, but I wouldn’t give up a minute of it if it meant not knowing him at all.” She smiled sadly. “I loved him, but I have the kids to keep me going. His kids. He’s gone, but he left a big part of him in the world.”

Rich couldn’t look at her. He didn’t know how to act, how to respond. Instead, he stared at the picture and tried to get some sense of the brother-in-law he’d never know. Mike had been a big man. He had the tanned, fit appearance of someone who worked outside. Rich wondered if he worked with his hands.

He couldn’t tell much about the baby—they all looked like Yoda to him. But the little girl, a pixie with a mop of curly red hair, had mugged for the camera like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“I wish you could’ve met Mike,” Sherry said softly.

“Yeah, me, too.”

Sherry opened her mouth to speak, but a commotion in the hall stopped her. She turned her gaze toward the door as a pretty young woman with a mane of chestnut hair came bursting in.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she said breathlessly. “But Mrs. Garrigan couldn’t come to sit until her daughter picked up her ki—” She stopped, apparently only just noticing Rich.

“It’s okay, Rebecca. Catch your breath, then I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Rebecca, still flushed from rushing, turned toward Rich. “Are you…?”

“Yeah. I’m the long lost brother.” He offered his hand.

“We’ve been trying to find you, since…How did you know Sherry was here?” She stopped, obviously still flustered, and looked at his hand. “Oh, I’m Rebecca Tucker. Sherry and I were roommates in college.” She pushed her hand toward him.

“Rich Larsen,” he said. “I guess I should thank you for stepping in with the kids.”

“Thank you,” she answered. “I love those kids as if they were my own. I couldn’t imagine anyone else taking care of them.”

“What about that lady next door?” Hadn’t she said she’d been baby-sitting the night it happened?

“Mrs. B?” Sherry smiled, her face angelic in spite of the metal contraption surrounding it. “She’d love to, but she works nights to help put two kids through college, so she isn’t available.”

“We weren’t about to let them go to strangers,” Rebecca cut in. “They go to their regular day care in the daytime, and stay with me at night.” She shrugged. “It works.”

“And I will not let them become wards of the court,” Sherry added emphatically, her voice breaking. “I’ve been there, and it won’t happen to my kids.”

Rich swallowed and wondered what to say. Had it been so bad for Sherry after he left? Should he have stayed around and looked out for her? He thought he’d made the right decision. After all, what better way to harness the brutal tendencies he’d surely inherited than to focus on using them for the good of his country?

“Richie is stationed at Hurlburt now,” Sherry said, her voice watery, the tone falsely cheerful. “He hired a private detective to look for me.”

“Sherry is the only person left in the world who calls me Richie,” he said, noticing that he was still holding Rebecca’s hand and also noticing that he didn’t get the same electrical charge from Rebecca as he had when he’d shaken Jennifer’s hand that first time. He released her. “I’d like to keep it that way.”

Rebecca smiled. “I understand.” She paused. “It’s nice to meet you, Rich.”

“Yeah. Sorry about the circumstances.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to call.” He patted the many pockets of his BDU shirt and located a pen. “If you have a piece of paper I’ll give you my phone number and address.”

“In the drawer, I think,” Sherry said, casting her gaze toward the bedside table.

Rich found a small notepad and scribbled the information. “This is my home number and that’s the admin clerk for the unit. I’m gone a lot on temporary duty or TDY. When I’m on TDY, he’ll be able to track me down.” He placed the pad on the table.

He shoved the pen back in his pocket and worried about the awkward silence. He had a lot to say to Sherry, but it didn’t seem right with Rebecca there. And he’d left Jennifer waiting for him out in the hall. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got fed up and left. He wanted to stay, but he searched for an excuse to leave.

The phone rang.

“Guess that’s my nightly ‘good-night’ from Caitlyn,” Sherry said, her face glowing.

Rebecca handed the phone to Sherry. “Caitlyn calls every night so Sherry can listen to her prayers.”

Rich nodded, touched by the idea. He swallowed and changed the subject. “Who’s taking care of the kids now?” He should have asked that earlier, but this family stuff was still new to him.

“They’re at my apartment. My landlady watches them at night when I come here.”

The nurse who had shown Rich the room, stuck her head in. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”

Rich reached for Sherry’s hand. She was still listening to the phone, and she smiled at him. “Gotta go,” he mouthed. “I’ll try to get back tomorrow.”

Sad that he had to leave Sherry, but relieved at the same time, Rich backed out the door.

He started to go, but turned back to Rebecca. “I meant what I said. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“Sure.”

Sherry waved and blew him a kiss. Startled, Rich returned it. Then with the unaccustomed burning back in his eyes, he looked for Jennifer.