[title subtitle=”WORDS Liesel Schmidt
IMAGE SabineBPhotography/Shutterstock”][/title]
Sometimes it’s the people who don’t strike you right away, the people who must leave and then suddenly are back in your life, who become the ones who mean the most—the ones you’re fated to meet. The ones who change your life forever.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Beth studied the man in front of her, her eyes roving across his face: His blue eyes, his aquiline nose, the little scar that travelled across his chin. He looked familiar, like she had met him somewhere but couldn’t remember exactly where or when or how. Still, there was a whisper of memory in the back of her mind, trying to surface through a fog that seemed too thick. Her eyes went back to his, and she held them there, searching.
“I can help you out,” he said, smiling. “You used to get coffee at the coffee shop on Tenth Street. I was the guy always at the table next to yours, boring holes into my computer.”
Beth cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him, squinting as she searched her memory. Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered. “You’re right! How have you been? It’s been, what…five years?”
He nodded. “I know we only talked a few times, but when you stopped coming, I asked the people in the coffee shop where you went. No one really knew anything,” he said.
Beth realized that she was staring at him. He had asked about her? She hadn’t realized anyone had even noticed she was gone, much less actually asked what had happened to her. She blinked and looked away.
She remembered that handful of conversations they’d had. He’d been smart and funny, easy to talk to. Gabe. That was his name. It reminded her of those men in the old photos who’d dressed in three-piece suits and wore fedoras. It just had that ring to it, like a classic movie character.
“So where did you go?” he asked.
Beth looked back at him, quickly; in a split second that she hoped wouldn’t show the pain that she felt every time she thought about it. Where did you go? She’d lost everything, reached a low point in her life that seemed she’d never find her way out of, and married the wrong man. Wrong by a lot.
Beth chewed her lip and took a deep breath.
“That’s a really, really long story,” she said finally. Beth looked back at him, hoping he wouldn’t press.
He didn’t. Instead, he gave her a small smile that was somewhere between knowing and sympathetic, with a tinge of sadness. “Well, I’m glad to see you,” he said quietly.
Beth could see something in his eyes—something conflicted, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. He started to say something, then changed his mind. He shook his head and smiled again at her, this time not letting her gaze slip away.
“How have you been?” she asked, feeling foolish at resorting to such an inane question. She reached up and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear, tugging her earlobe. It was a self-conscious habit she’d had since she was a child, something she’d tried many times to break herself of but never succeeded.
“I’ve been good. I actually sold my first book and am working on my next one,” Gabe said. Beth could detect a note of awe, like he still couldn’t believe that it had happened.
“That’s amazing! I know how hard you were working on that first one. You should be really proud of yourself, Gabe.”
Again, there was that look, something she couldn’t quite identify. “You remembered my name,” he said, his voice low and quiet.
“It’s a great name,” she replied with a smile. There was no way she was going to tell him how much she’d always looked forward to seeing him at the coffee shop.
“What’s it about?” Beth asked, hoping he didn’t detect the awkwardness she was feeling.
“It’s guy stuff—a novel about a soldier who gets deployed and is part of a convoy that almost gets blown up by an IED. All the stuff that happens from that point.” He shrugged and looked past her, somewhere in the middle distance where something only he could see existed. It was a faraway look she’d seen many times while he’d sat at his computer in the coffee shop, all those years ago.
“Sounds intense. Were you military?” she asked. Beth felt ridiculous for not knowing, but it wasn’t something he’d ever mentioned. She’d just known him as Gabe, the guy who dreamed of being a writer. And he’d never told her what the book he’d been so intent on writing had been about. Not until now, anyway.
He nodded, still staring off at nothing she could see. Then his gaze shifted back to her, locking eyes. “I was. Ten years. I was shot a few times, though, so they medically retired me. Otherwise, I would have stayed in and done my twenty,” he said. His voice was husky, filled with some emotion she couldn’t quite identify. There were many things about him, it seemed, that left her with question marks.
“How did this never come up? All those times, and you never mentioned it. Why?” Beth asked, hearing the incredulity in her own voice.
Gabe cleared his throat. “It was a long time ago.” He shrugged.
“Still. That’s a lot for anyone to go through,” she insisted.
The corner of Gabe’s mouth tipped up in a sad half-smile. “Maybe. But I wasn’t the only one. And I’m far from the last,” he replied.
Beth stood silently staring at him, searching his face, wondering what to say. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the trill of her cell phone.
She smiled apologetically at Gabe, rummaging in her purse to find her phone. Work.
“I’m so sorry, Gabe,” she said, her finger hovering over the screen, conflicted over answering or just letting it go to voicemail. It was just Burke. He could wait, right?
The ringing continued. She hesitated and then gave him an apologetic smile.
“It was good seeing you, Beth,” Gabe said, returning her smile.
********
There it was: Gabe’s book.
Beth was staring at it, almost agape. It was on the best-seller list. Brotherhood of Fire. She reached out and picked the front copy of the book off the shelf, opened the front cover, and read the dedication.
And then she re-read it. The names, the date. The platoon. It was all there. How had she not known?
Beth ran her finger over one name on the list: Benjamin Taylor. Her brother. He’d been twenty years old when the IED had hit his Humvee, exploded, killing him and five others nearly twenty years ago. It had been devastating. She could barely remember the funeral, except staring at that flag-draped coffin.
They’d gotten a letter from a member of his platoon. It had ripped at her heart, apologizing for not seeing the truck until it was too late. Until it had almost collided with Ben’s Humvee. And it had been signed 2LT Gabriel Hess. Gabe.
**********
“It wasn’t your fault, Gabe.”
Beth had found him in the coffee shop on Tenth Street, like she had so many times before. He was staring hard at his computer screen, lost in thought. Her words startled him.
He looked at her, questioning.
“Private First-Class Benjamin Taylor.” She swallowed the tears as she said his name. “He was my brother. I knew you looked familiar, but I thought it was just from here. You spoke to my parents at the funeral. And you sent us that letter.”
“You’re Ben’s sister?” Gabe asked, and Beth could see the light of recognition in his eyes. She’d changed a lot between Ben’s funeral and the time they’d first met in this coffee shop.
Gabe’s eyes glistened with the sheen of forming tears. He blinked quickly, then looked away.
Beth shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said again. She sat down in the chair opposite him and took his hand in hers, forcing him to look back at her, into her eyes as she spoke. “There wasn’t anything you could have done. No one blames you.”
He looked as though the words had reached into his soul and touched some part of him that was still broken and raw, all these years later. Beth reached out her other hand and lightly pressed it against his face. He closed his eyes and took a hitched breath. When he opened them again, his blue eyes were filled with tears.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
