Page 11 of True Valor
“It does?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“What else?”
“Well, you’re not wearing a weddingring.”
“Neither are you.”
“Get serious here.”He jabbed the pen downseveral times on the pad.
Julie looked out the window, her expressionsobering.At last, she spoke.“If I get serious...”She slid out ofthe booth, taking her coat with her.“This is stupid anyway.Thankyou for the food.”Without another word she jammed her arms intothe jacket and stomped from the restaurant.
She was waiting at the car when he got thereand got in without saying another word.
“I’m scared, Nic.”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer butforged ahead, words tumbling from her mouth.“I’m up and down andup and down, you know.I’m scrambled, and confused, and kinda deadinside.”She wrung her hands absently and her voice climbed as shecontinued.“Earlier, on the bench, I had the urge to charge outinto traffic, to see if it would hurt to get hit by a car.I haveimpulses that overtake me from nowhere, impulses to do unimaginablethings, things that make me wonder if that’s really the kind ofperson I am.”
She slammed her mouth shut, as if by doing soshe could quell the emotion, the fear.
“What kind of things?”he asked.
No response.
Nic pulled into a parking place and shut offthe car.
“What kind of things, Julie?”
Yanking the door open, she climbed out andled the way to his room.
They didn’t bring up her amnesia again.Theyplayed gin rummy, watched TV—sitting at opposite ends of thecouch—and had soup for dinner.Without warning, Julie got up andstated flatly that she was going to bed.
“You think you’ll end up on the floor in themorning?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She left the door open halfway and soonturned off the light.
Much later, he heard her, but didn’t let on,as she dragged her pillow and blanket into the living room and tookher place on the floor in front of the couch.
It was a struggle not to reach down and touchher.
When Christmas morning came, Nic once againstepped over Julie.Leaving her asleep in the still-darkened room,he went to shower.
With the water running, he wasn’t sure he’dactually heard the door open, then close.Before he could utter thequestion on his lips, Julie stepped into the shower.
“What the hell?”
“I’m here to wash your back.”
“Uh, Julie.I don’t think...”
“Good, don’t think.”Her gaze never left hisface as she moved under the water, pressed up against him, reachingaround him to run her hands down his back.Her lips were warm onhis neck.
There was no way to hide his body’s reactionto her.When her hands reached his shoulders, she drew back.“What’s this?”
His body followed the command of her hands asshe turned him away from her.“What happened?”Her fingers lightlytraced the scar that ran from just below his left shoulder to thetop of his rib cage.
