Ride the Lightning - Aimee Nicole Walker Page 0,79

days doing what I damn well please, and it pleases me to look after my dear friend, especially since he’s in this mess because of me.”

“None of this is your fault.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Marla said. “I will stop believing your injury is my fault as soon as you stop blaming yourself for every terrible thing that happens to the people you love.”

Jonah wished he could just flippantly agree to her bargain, but he couldn’t. Or maybe he just wouldn’t. It was easier to keep people at a distance than to lose them after they got too close.

“I see,” Marla said after a long pause. She pulled her hand free of Jonah’s loose grip, pressed the call button for a nurse, then settled back in her chair. And that was the end of the argument with Marla.

Against Dr. Sheridan’s medical advice, Jonah signed himself out of the hospital the following morning. “I suffered a much worse concussion the time I bounced face-first down the side of Kilimanjaro.” Jonah pointed to the scar on his face. “It’s how I got this.”

Dr. Sheridan snorted while Marla just shook her head.

“I’ll pull the car around front,” Marla told Jonah.

“I thought you couldn’t drive.”

Marla rolled her eyes. “Just because I choose not to drive doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

“I beg to differ,” Jonah groused during the short drive home. Marla had taken corners too short and waited too long to apply the brakes as she approached stop signs and red lights.

“You’re not supposed to stop in the crosswalk,” Jonah teased.

“Keep it up, wise guy.”

Over the next few days, Marla oversaw Jonah’s care, playing both nurse and psychologist to him. She also made his meals and herded cats, which is what she called policing his many visitors. Avery came over every evening after work and stayed until the sun went down, but Jonah talked him into going home to sleep in his own bed since he was still getting up several times a night.

His dreams were as turbulent as his sleep, replaying that fateful day of the IED explosion over and over again. To add insult to injury, his brain placed Avery in the Humvee with them, reminding Jonah what—or who—was at risk if he fucked up again.

“What the hell are you doing?” Marla asked when she entered his room one day toward the end of the week. “You’re not supposed to be on your phone.”

Jonah glanced up from his phone, then grinned from ear to ear. “Am I convalescing or attending a Reba McEntire concert?” He lived for her multiple wardrobe changes each day. The red satin, floor-length gown worthy of an Oscar appearance didn’t disappoint.

“Reba?” she scoffed. “You mean Celine Dion, right?” Marla crossed the room and snatched his phone away.

Jonah would’ve shaken his head, but he still had a headache. “This is Georgia, so Reba reigns supreme here.”

Marla tsked. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree. And for your information, I’ve amassed these amazing outfits over the years and want to wear them all again before I die.” Then she started a Reba-versus-Celine debate, which lasted at least thirty minutes. Typically, Jonah would’ve surrendered much quicker, but seeing her riled up was the best entertainment he’d had since leaving the hospital.

“Marla, I’m bored,” Jonah whined.

“Fine. I’ll talk about my recent weekend in Atlanta.”

“Okay.”

“I needed to atone for my stupidity and arrogance,” Marla said. “That’s what wise people do. You see, my family reacted badly to finding out I’m genderqueer, although we didn’t call it that back then. They eventually wanted to understand and even made attempts to set things right, but I rebuffed their efforts. It was too little, too late. I felt like they had rejected me, so I gave them a taste of their own medicine. For more than three decades, I deprived myself of spending precious time with my family because of my foolish pride. I should’ve given them time to come to terms with things and allowed them the opportunity to get to know who I am. Instead, I ran off and didn’t look back. It took a death sentence for me to acknowledge I’d made mistakes too.”

Marla smiled wistfully. “I got to meet my nieces and nephews and hug my mama and daddy. I tell you,” she said, covering her heart. “No one gives better hugs than my daddy.” Marla nudged Jonah’s shoulder. “You come really damn close though. You’ve been my family for the past three years, and I love you more than I can