Someone Like You

“MaryAnne mentioned you served in Afghanistan. My husband was in the service, too,” Beth said softly, her large blue eyes dominating a narrow face. “We all appreciate your sacrifice.” Her eyes skimmed over the prosthetic limb showing below his shorts.

“You’re a hero,” piped up the littler one. Samuel. He stepped close and reached for Niall’s prosthetic before his mother snatched his hand away.

“No, I’m not.” His voice was more forceful than he intended, and the boy’s eyes widened. The older son, Josh, peered at him through his overgrown bangs, his squint sharp and assessing.

“All soldiers are heroes.” Samuel picked at a scab on his elbow. “Mommy said so.”

Josh snorted, and Kayleigh shot him a dark look that made the boy study his shuffling sneakers.

Niall glanced from Beth, to Kayleigh, to a scowling MaryAnne. Time to go before he said more than he should. “Your dad was a hero.” He turned to leave.

A tug on his shorts’ hem stopped him.

“You, too. You, too!” Samuel jumped up and down. “Do you have a medal?”

Niall pictured the Purple Heart he’d stuffed in a sock drawer. He couldn’t toss it, but he wouldn’t look at it either. He opened his mouth then closed it, his tongue sluggish, his brain full of white noise. Kayleigh’s hand fell on his wrist, and the warm pressure of her skin against his steadied him.

“My daddy has two medals,” the youngster continued without waiting for an answer.

“It doesn’t help us now that he’s dead,” Josh burst out. His eyes were wild around the edges, and he shoved fists into his pockets.

Sam cried out, and Beth’s chest rose with a sharp intake of breath. Instantly, Kayleigh let go of Niall and bent down to whisper something in Josh’s ear.

Niall rubbed the spot where Kayleigh’s hand had been, and silently agreed with Josh. Chris should have his life instead of medals, be with his family today. If not for Niall, he’d be celebrating his independence instead of resting in a cemetery. Regret sliced him like a sharp stone beneath swift water.

“He deserves them.” It was inadequate, but all Niall could say, especially with Kayleigh’s gaze on him. Facing her was hard enough. Seeing Chris’s family, unbearable. It brought the same sick, breathless ache back to his chest whenever he thought about that day in Afghanistan.

Kayleigh gave Niall an approving nod, then touched the top of Sam’s head. “Your dad was very brave.”

“Or stupid,” mumbled the older boy. He picked up an abandoned straw from a table and began bending the end and releasing it so that it whipped his arm.

“Josh!” exclaimed Kayleigh as Beth’s hand rose to her mouth. “Never speak that way about your father.” A deep sliver of anger ran through her patient tone.

“What? Only an idiot volunteers to get killed.”

“Daddy went to heaven,” cried Samuel before sticking his thumb in his mouth. Beth gently tugged it free and pulled him into her arms. Around them, the crowd hushed, and a few lowered their burgers.

“He left us, idiot.” Josh whirled and stomped away. Before he ducked his head, Niall glimpsed pain underneath the boy’s angry expression, raw and bloody, like a wound too deep for healing. He’d lost his father, and his resentment was palpable.

Kayleigh started after Josh while Beth picked up a shaking Samuel. “I’m so sorry, MaryAnne. We didn’t mean to ruin your party. Maybe we should go.”

“No. No,” MaryAnne soothed. “Let’s get this little guy a hot dog, okay?” She led the way, and Niall heard his sister say, “Do you like cotton candy or sprinkles on your hot dog, Sam?” followed by the kid’s answering giggle. Leave it to MaryAnne to right all of the wrongs in the world.

He stared after Josh and Kayleigh. Despite not having a plan or a reason, he followed them. What could he do? It wasn’t as though he could bring Chris back, reverse the past. Seeing the Renshaw family proved what he already knew. The wrong guy had died that day. A family had depended on Chris, while Niall had come home to...no one who’d really needed him. Fate had an ironic sense of humor he didn’t appreciate.

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