Betrayal

"Well, fortunately, he wasn't killed, and that's all they seem to report. It's like the wounded don't count. So you might never have seen his name anyway. But his squad…those poor boys."

"All of them died?"

"All but one, I believe. Two, counting Evan."

"Oh, God, Eileen, I am so sorry. How is he now?"

"Getting better every day. He's making more sense when he talks on the phone. The doctors won't say for sure, of course, but his lead neurologist predicts that Evan might be one of the very, very few to recover almost completely. Though it's probably going to be a while."

"He's what, doing therapy?"

"Every day. Physical and mental. But as I say, he's really coming along now. For a few weeks there, after he first arrived, we didn't even dare hope for that, so this is all really good news. Once they decided he was eligible for therapy, it's been better."

"Why wouldn't he have been eligible?"

Eileen pursed her lips. "There was some question about whether he'd had something to drink before he went out on his last convoy. Nobody said he was drunk, but…anyway, they had to clear that up first. If he was in fact under the influence, he might not have been eligible for benefits."

"Even though he was shot?"

Eileen took a calming breath. "He wasn't shot, Tara. It was a grenade."

That news stopped her briefly. "Okay, but even so, they weren't going to treat him?"

"If he'd been drunk, maybe not. Or not right away, anyway. And we've learned time is everything with his kind of injuries, believe me."

But Tara was still reeling from the revelation. "I can't believe they really might not have treated him. How could he not be eligible for benefits if he got wounded in a war zone?"

"It's one of the great mysteries, dear, but don't get me started on how they're treating some of those other poor wounded boys at Walter Reed. It's atrocious. But-you'll really love this-even after they ruled that he was eligible for benefits, the Army made it one of the conditions of Evan's treatment that he wouldn't complain about conditions at Walter Reed to the media or anybody else." She laid a hand on Tara 's arm, forced a tepid smile. "So the thing to do now is be grateful that they're finally helping him, and we are."

"You are a way better person than I'd be, Eileen."

"I don't know about that. It's the only way I know how to be. Of course it's frustrating and terrible, but at least Evan's getting better now. I don't see how making a stink at this point would do anybody any good."

Closing her eyes, Tara blew out her frustration. She didn't believe Eileen was right-she thought that making a stink might in fact help things improve. But suddenly the country's culture seemed to have shifted to where everybody was afraid to make a stink about anything-it meant they weren't patriotic. It meant they supported the terrorists. And this whole mentality was, to her mind, just stupid.

But she wasn't going to get in yet another argument about this ongoing and disastrous war-not with Eileen, not with Ron Nolan, not with anybody else. At least it appeared that, bad though it might have been, the worst medical part of Evan's ordeal was over. "So he's been there how long now?" she asked.

"About three months. We hope he'll be coming home in a couple more, but we're afraid to move him too quickly. At least he's got quality care now, and we don't want to rush his recovery. When he comes back, we want him all the way back, you know?" Eileen's serene gaze settled on her might-have-been daughter-in-law. "And how about you, Tara? How have you been?"

"Mostly good, I think."

"Mostly good, you think? That's not the most enthusiastic response I've ever heard."

"No. I guess not. I'm just…kind of at a loss somehow. I don't really feel whole in some way. It's like I'm waiting for something, but I'm not sure what it is, or even if I'll recognize it when it comes along. Does that make any sense?"

"More than you think. Are you seeing anybody?"

"More or less. I'm a little conflicted about him too. In fact…" She stopped.

Eileen's head fell off angling to one side in her trademark gesture. "Yes?"

Tara sighed. This close to Eileen's physical presence, now, she almost imagined she could feel emanations of her son in the air around them. And it affected her still, this sense of some deep-rooted connection between them that she'd never approached with anyone else. Certainly not with Ron Nolan.

So why, then, was she still seeing Ron? Was it only because she'd given up on Evan after he'd clearly stopped caring about her? Or was there something simply easier about Ron? Love didn't have to be all-encompassing and overpowering, did it? True, deep, abiding love was a fairy tale, a myth. She'd found that out the hard way. Now she'd moved on into an adult, reality-based relationship that could never hurt her the way she'd been hurt with Evan. And that was smart. She was in a better place, all in all. She had to believe that.