Page 222 of Severed Heart

“Merry Christmas, man,” I call back before he turns and heads off the porch.

When Delphine palms her face, overwhelmed, a “Mon Dieu” leaving her in a rush in McCormick’s wake, I join her. Cradling her in my arms, pride fills me as she finally gets the well-deserved props.

“What have you done, Soldier?” she whispers, utterly shaken, as I hold her steady while they continue to address her one by one, as the others patiently wait for their turn. Fully shaken when one of them gifts her his Purple Heart, which she tried to refuse. Battle lost, the ribbon now hangs from one of the lapels of the jacket, swallowing her. Each takes their time, giving her detailed testaments of how they escaped with their lives by carrying out my orders. Her orders.

“Tyler,” Delphine croaks, becoming increasingly overwhelmed as they continue to approach her, all of them in their best dress to honor the woman who saved them. Pride thrums through me that not one of them made an excuse and showed up for her. Mom beams equally with pride, her eyes continually watering as Zach inches closer, just as affected, hanging onto their every word. The last to step up is a mid-forties man with a ruddy complexion and a shitty disposition, who manages a smile for Delphine as she greets him by name.

“You are Phillip,” she declares, and he nods and extends his hand, and she takes it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, General.” He gives her a wink after using her pet name. “I came to personally thank you for building the soldier capable of saving my sister’s son. My nephew is the closest to a son I’ll ever have, and if it weren’t for you, for Tyler, he wouldn’t be home tonight spending Christmas with his fiancée. So, thank you sincerely, Delphine. And... if you ever find yourself bored and need a way to pass the time, get my number from him,” he says, only half joking. “I’d love to pick your brain and—”

“Don’t push it,” I mutter before we share a smile. “Thanks for coming.”

Phillip steps off the porch just as Shultz rings out a “Company, attennn-tion!”

In an instant, a collective snap of boots sounds. Releasing Delphine, I round her before walking down the step, doing an about-face and snapping my own boots as Ramirez cracks a joke. “Where are your blues, asshole?”

My grin wiped clean as Shultz sounds out a second later.

“Company, join me in wishing the general a very Merry Christmas!”

“We wish you a very Merry Christmas, General!” we shout in unison as Mom snaps a dozen photos and Zach stands back in shock.

“Company, salute!” Shultz shouts as we all snap our hands to our brows, and tears flow over Delphine’s cheeks as she soaks us all in, one by one, before Shultz breaks us up with a final order. “Company... dismissed!... AndMerry Christmas, fuckers!”

Delphine crashes into my mom’s waiting arms as I razz her from where I stand at the foot of the porch. “You’re embarrassing me,” I taunt as she buries her head in Mom’s chest while flipping me the bird.

A second later, my view of her is blocked before I’m surrounded by some of my old company and GRS team. We spend a few minutes greeting one another, as I thank every one of them individually. Not long after, they all start to pile into vans and trucks they used to carpool here in an attempt to keep their cover and approach the house undetected.

Exhaling a contented sigh of relief as the last car speeds off, happy with how it went down, I turn back toward the house to see Mom and Zach have made themselves scarce while my newly and highly decorated general waits for me on the porch. Tears continue spilling down her cheeks as I walk up the step, and she stalks toward me, gripping me to her before burying her head in my chest. “You...” Her voice is hoarse as she speaks. “... just... can this be the second-best night of my life, Soldier?” she whispers.

“It can be whatever you want it to be. Merry Christmas, General.”

“I can’t believe this. I have no words ... no words. Tyler, how did you do this?”

She stares up at me with splotched cheeks, wearing a priceless smile, and I could tell her that her expression alone is why I did it. Instead, I give her the second reason. “Because no matter how many times I tried to tell you that you saved us, you refused to believe me. I had an argument to win, so I guess the question is... do you believe menow?”

* * *

Locking up the house later that night, I look out the front door to see Zach standing in the middle of the yard and frown. He’d wished us both a good night an hour ago and disappeared into his room. Delphine and I have been wrapping presents for him in our bedroom since. Stepping out, Zach tenses when he hears the creak of the door. It’s then I see his chest bouncing involuntarily as his hand flies to his face. Heart aching at the knowledge he’s crying, I give him his personal space as I speak at his back. “We can talk about it, about anything, and I’ll be straight with you, I promise.”

Silence ensues, and I know it’s because he’s gathering himself. I scan the orchard, the night moonless but star-littered, the porch light illuminating the frost on the ground. Thankful it’s been a mild winter, I remain patiently in wait until he finally speaks.

“She’s really going to die,” he croaks. “She looks okay... I mean, she’s getting weak and is starting to look... but she seems okay.”

“She is okay tonight. She is, Zach. She’s not in any pain right now.”

“She’s hiding it so well,” he whispers.

“So are you,” I tell him. “And I wish you wouldn’t, if I’m honest.”

“You don’t think you’re dealing with enough?” He looks back to me then, and I hold his eyes, studying what I can of him under the dim porch light.

“I’m dealing with what I chose to, and that includes whatever you want to give me.” I take a step toward him. “You know, she never wanted to be a mother, ever. But if she could, she would take on that role for you, Zach. Since minute one, she’s wanted to. And she loves you”—his back bounces as I admit that—“and I know because she’s preparing you the exact same way she prepared me when I was a few years older than you. That’s how she loves.”

“I got her a stupid present,” he croaks. “It’s so stupid. I wish I had gotten her a better present. And I won’t ever get to give her a better one.”

“She’ll love whatever it is. I promise you she will. She gets so damned excited about the littlest things.”