And once again, Hunt was facing another classmate, this time an old girlfriend from his sophomore year.
“Hello, Linda. Thank you for coming,” Birdie said.
Linda nodded. “Hunt, good to see you again. This is my husband, Andy Ames. Our condolences on your loss.”
Hunt nodded. “You, too, Linda. Nice to meet you, Andy,” Hunt said, and gestured toward the last two seats.
Birdie was having a hard time swallowing food. She couldn’t get past the fact that they’d just buried their mother, and now everyone was being all chatty and eating like it was any church dinner. She didn’t think anyone noticed until Hunt leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“One bite, kid. That’s all it takes. The others are easier after that.”
She blinked back tears and forked a bite of potato salad into her mouth, then chewed and swallowed. The faint hint of mustard within the mayonnaise dressing reminded her of her mother’s recipe.
Love you, Mama, she thought, and took another bite.
After that it was easier, just like Hunt said, and within minutes the conversation turned to Hunt and where he’d been.
“Man, you were missed around here,” Rob said. “I thought you went off to college in Savannah, but then you never showed up. Where did you go?”
“The army,” Hunt said.
There was a moment of shock, followed by a mental tabulation of what was happening in the army fifteen years ago, and it was Linda who asked.
“Did you see active duty?”
“A little,” Hunt said. “I wonder who made this potato casserole. It’s good.”
“My older brother, Doyle, was in Iraq,” Rob said. “Were you ever there?”
“Hunt flew Apache helicopters all over,” Birdie said. “Fallujah, Mosul, and Afghanistan. Did I get that right, Hunt?”
He nodded.
“Are you still active duty?” Andy asked.
Hunt shook his head. “No. I mustered out after being shot down. Took a while to heal, but I still fly choppers. I work for an oil company down in Houston, ferrying oil-field workers to offshore rigs all up and down the southern coast, from Texas as far up as Louisiana. Keeps me busy.” Then he glanced at Birdie’s glass. “I’m going to get a refill. You want more tea?”
“Yes, please,” she said, and as soon as Hunt got up and left the table, they peppered her with questions.
“Is he married?” Rob asked.
“No, never has been,” Birdie said.
“Was he hurt bad?” Linda asked.
Birdie shrugged. “He doesn’t talk about it, but I’d say yes. His gunner was killed. He survived. And when he comes back to the table, no more questions about war, okay?”
They nodded, embarrassed that they’d been thoughtless enough to do it in the first place.
Hunt came back with their drinks and knew by the awkward silence around the table that Birdie must have called them out about their curiosity. He owed her one for that.
It was almost an hour later before he and Birdie were alone again. Before he knew it, the man who’d been sitting with Emma was coming toward their table.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
Birdie smiled. “Oh, that’s Gordon Lee, Emma’s husband. He’s really nice.”
Hunt stood as Gordon arrived.
“Hunt, I just wanted to come introduce myself. I’m Gordon Lee, Emma’s husband.”
Hunt shook the hand Gordon offered. “Nice to meet you,” he said.
“I work in a sporting goods store in Savannah six days a week, but I’m home every evening around six. If you need help at Marjorie’s house, don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’d be happy to lend a hand.” He handed Hunt his card and then winked at Birdie.
She smiled.
“Thanks,” Hunt said. “I appreciate that.”
Gordon nodded. “Sure thing,” he said, and then went back to where the others were sitting.
Hunt could tell Emma was uncomfortable that he’d done that, but obviously Gordon Lee was a man with his own mind, and that was never a bad thing. Then he glanced down at Birdie.
“I think I’m going to slip out of here,” Hunt said. “Are you going to be okay?”
Birdie stood up and hugged him. “Yes. I’ll be talking to you again in a day or two.”
“I think I can handle that,” he said. “Thanks for the moral support,” he added.
“That goes both ways,” Birdie said. “Love you, Hunt. I’m sorry Mama had to die to get you home, but I’m so glad to see you again.”
“Love you too, kid. It’s good to see what an amazing woman you grew up to be,” Hunt said, and then slipped out of a side door and left.
Birdie saw the others still talking to friends and decided to go home, too. She put on her coat and left through the same door, grateful that this was finally behind them.
Chapter 7
Hunt drove home and changed into work clothes. He still had several hours of daylight and a lot of work to get done. Yesterday, he’d finished caulking. The roofer was delayed in coming out, and Hunt wanted to look at it on his own, but was minus a ladder. So he reverted to his teenage years and went up into the attic that had once been his room and climbed out onto the roof through the dormer window.
He’d been up there a good ten minutes when he saw Ava coming up the street. When she pulled into the drive and got out, his heart skipped. The sun shining on her dark hair made it look like silk, and her ready smile when she saw him was the best thing that had happened to him all day.
“The front door is unlocked. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be right down,” he called out.
“Be careful,” she said.
He headed back to the window, crawled inside, and began dusting himself off as he hurried down the stairs.
Ava was standing in the hallway, and when she saw him, she walked straight into his arms and gave him a hug.
The urge to kiss her senseless was so strong within Hunt that he was struggling to focus when she saved him and turned him loose.
“That’s the best greeting I’ve had all day, but what was it for?” he asked.
“I couldn’t be at the service today. It’s a hug for my regret. I worried for you. Were people nice, or did they grill you mercilessly?”
“They were nice, and Birdie decided to attach herself to me to make sure I wasn’t grilled. It was actually pretty sweet of her.”