Made to Order by Brigham Vaughn

SIXTEEN

When Eddie opened the cheerful yellow door of his house, Tyler tried not to wince. He looked like he’d aged at least five years since Tyler had seen him in August. Deep, dark circles ringed his brown eyes, and he looked haggard in a way he never had before.

The eight weeks of Ranger School had tested both of them to their limits. Half of the men there had failed out, and it had been one of the most physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing things Tyler had ever experienced. The exhaustion and strain had worn him nearly to the breaking point. Eddie had been the same.

Today, he looked worse than when they’d returned from Swamp Phase in Florida.

“Hey, man,” Tyler said, his voice sounding like he’d swallowed gravel. “Good to see you.”

Eddie managed a half-hearted smile, but his hug was hard and tight, his body as thin and wiry as Tyler had ever seen. He seemed to be wasting away, yet his face was puffy. And there was a gray tone to Eddie’s normally rich brown skin. The heavy drinking, Tyler presumed. It made his heart ache.

“Come in.” There was a glimmer of the old Eddie in the smile he gave Tyler.

Tyler stepped inside the post-war bungalow. It was snug for a family of five, but between the family photos on the wall and the living room strewn with kids’ toys, it felt cozy and warm.

Andrea walked in from the kitchen. Her narrow shoulders were tense but her face softened when she saw him. “Hey, Ty.”

“Hey, gorgeous.” He kissed her cheek. She looked beautiful as ever with her long wavy hair and wide smile. But that smile was strained, and it didn’t quite reach her warm brown eyes.

“Hey yourself,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”

“I know.” He winced. “I had a crazy busy summer. The tavern opened a new patio area and …”

“I know,” she said with a little laugh. “You told me all about the plans for it when we stopped by there last spring, remember?”

He grimaced. “Yes. God, sorry. Everything’s been kind of a blur lately.”

“How’s your dad doing?”

“Better,” Tyler said with a relieved sigh. “His mobility is way improved, and he’s in a hell of a lot less pain than he was before the surgery. I’m still trying to fill in the blanks and help out with some chores. I’ll take care of the leaves in their backyard this fall, but I’m hopeful that by next spring he’ll be back to taking care of the mowing and stuff. If he can’t handle it, I think I’ll hire someone.”

“Aww. You’re so sweet, always looking out for the people you care about,” she said. “Make sure you take time to take care of yourself. And let someone else do something for you for a change!”

“I’m trying,” he said. He thought about the night before. About the worried look in Donovan’s eyes this morning. His offer to drive with Tyler to Grand Rapids. Tyler hadn’t wanted to drag Donovan away from the restaurant for anything less than a true emergency, but he’d appreciated the offer.

He’d thought a lot on the drive up about what was happening with Donovan, wondering what it all meant. There was no denying things were changing between them. He knew their scenes weren’t just a way for them to blow off steam anymore.

Tyler knew it deep down to his bones, but it scared the shit out of him.

He wasn’t ready for his life to change.

“Uncle Ty!” The thunder of feet filled the air, and a moment later Antonio bounded toward him. He was getting so big, his face beginning to take on the look of a teenager instead of a young boy. “I have to tell you all about the goal I scored at soccer.”

“I’d love to hear about that—”

“Uncle Ty!” Isabella and Daniela came hurtling toward him, grabbing him around the waist and hugging him.

He squeezed the seven-year-old twins tight. “Hey, guys. It’s good to see you.”

All three kids talked a mile a minute, trying to cram in as many words as possible as their mother gave him a look that was both a little helpless and probably slightly relieved that for once she wasn’t the one trying to wrangle them.

Tyler stood there a while, catching up with the kids, letting their torrent of words flow over him as he listened intently, nodding and trying to get a word in edgewise. Half the time he had no idea what they were talking about. Kids TV shows? Friends from school? No clue. But he gave them his undivided attention until Andrea stepped forward.

“Okay, guys. It’s time to leave for Grandma’s.”

“I don’t want to go to Grandma’s! I wanna stay here with Uncle Ty.” Isabella tugged at Tyler’s hand.

“Hey, come here.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll come visit again soon, I promise. But your dad and I have some stuff we’re gonna talk about today. Grownup stuff.”

“Okay.” She sighed heavily. “But you have to promise to play dolls with me next time, okay?”

“I promise.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, that was for sure. Hell, probably half the dolls and toys she had, he’d given her. And the same for Daniela’s ponies and art kits. He was never shy about sitting on the floor of their bedroom and playing with them.

Tyler didn’t have kids of his own, so he figured he might as well spoil the ones belonging to his friends.

He hugged the kids goodbye, then kissed Andrea on the cheek. She hugged and kissed her husband as well, but Tyler could see the strain between them, a far cry from the easy, loving affection that had been there before.

When Andrea and the kids were gone and the house was quiet, Tyler turned to Eddie. “I’m sorry. It really has been too long since I’ve come to see you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie draped an arm over Tyler’s shoulder. “You’re here now. You want some coffee?”

“Sure. Mind if I use your bathroom first? Had some on the way up and …”

“Go for it.” Eddie gave a vague wave in the general direction of the hall. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

It didn’t take Tyler long to empty his bladder and wash his hands, but he checked his phone before he went out again, hoping for a message from Donovan. There wasn’t one. It didn’t mean anything; he knew that. They didn’t text a lot. Just shot the shit occasionally. Sent each other random crap like funny videos or tweets or whatever. The usual stuff he did with a lot of his friends.

Of course, Donovan also checked in with him periodically. Asked him about the scenes they’d done. Made sure he was doing okay. Sometimes they talked about their families or about more personal things.

Truth was, this thing with Donovan was starting to feel concrete in a way Tyler had never expected. He hadn’t thought that being with a guy would ever feel like it had with his female exes, but it felt more real than it had with any of them. His military service had made relationships difficult, and he hadn’t wanted to settle down while there was a real chance of him being deployed. The possibility of it when he was in the reserves had made him hesitate. But here he was, out of the military. He had a great civilian job, he owned a house, he had his shit together as much as he was probably ever going to. If there was ever a time for him to have a relationship, now was it.

Yeah, he was busy with the bar and helping out his family, but he and Donovan had managed to make this thing work. This thing that had started out casual but now felt like it could be something real.

But Tyler would have to upend his life to do it.

And that was assuming Donovan even wanted it. What if he didn’t?

“What did you do, fall in there?”

The pounding on the door startled Tyler from his thoughts and he realized he’d been staring at his reflection in the mirror.

“Fuck off,” Tyler called back. He grabbed his phone off the counter and stuffed it in his pocket.

He pulled the door open and glared at Eddie, who stood there holding two cups of coffee, a mischievous look on his face that Tyler hadn’t seen in a long damn time.

“C’mon, get your ass in gear. It’s a gorgeous day. Let’s go sit in the backyard with our coffee. I want to enjoy this weather while it lasts.”

Tyler took the mug and followed Eddie through the house, then out through the sliding back door. He hated that his first thought had been to wonder if Eddie had added a little something extra to his own cup.

Eddie took a seat on top of the picnic table and Tyler settled beside him, breathing in the fresh air. “It really is gorgeous.”

It had been cool the night before but now that the sun was up, it was one of those perfect early fall days. The hot cup of coffee warmed his hands, and the breeze was soft against his cheek. The sounds of suburban life drifted through the air. The hum of the distant highway. The sound of garage doors opening and closing. The rumble and beep of a garbage truck.

“So, what’s new with you?” Eddie asked.

Tyler made a noncommittal noise. “Like I said earlier, mostly work. Taking care of stuff at my parents’ place. That’s all keeping me pretty busy. Oh, my brother and his wife had a baby,” he added. So far, he’d only seen the kid in pictures or sleeping on a video chat, but he was looking forward to when they came up to visit around Thanksgiving.

“Tell Gary and Kourtney I said congrats.”

“I definitely will,” Tyler promised.

“So that’s it?” Eddie craned his neck to look at Tyler. “Nothing else new?”

“Not really.” He’d dodged questions about his personal life when they were camping but now he was tempted to talk to Eddie about Donovan. It was scary as fuck though.

“Aww come on. You’re not getting any action in the bedroom?” Eddie gave him a little wink. “That’s not like you.”

“Well …” Tyler said. His gut twisted, and he licked his lips. He didn’t want to lie. And maybe if he opened up to Eddie about this, Eddie would open up to him. “I’ve been, uh, hooking up with someone for a while.”

“Yeah? Tell me about her.”

Tyler huffed out a laugh and closed his eyes. “Well, uh, that’s the thing. It’s, uh, it’s a guy.”

“Oh.” Eddie nudged Tyler’s knee with his. “So, tell me about him.”

God, Tyler fucking loved Eddie more than ever for that. No big fuss. No dramatic gasp of shock. Tyler’s eyes stung for a moment, and he took a big sip of his coffee to cover it.

“He’s the executive chef at the tavern actually.”

“The red-haired dude? Total hipster type, right? With the beard and the tatts and stuff.”

Tyler let out another laugh, this time more genuine. “Yeah, that’s Donovan.”

Tyler had given Eddie and Andrea and the kids a tour of the place when they’d come to visit last spring, and he’d briefly introduced them to Donovan. He’d forgotten they’d met.

“He seemed cool,” Eddie said. “His food was fucking amazing.”

“He’s not bad.”

Eddie smirked at him. “So how long have you been seeing him?”

“A few months? Yeah, it was early June, I guess, when we started. So yeah, three months or so.”

“And what, you just decided you were into him out of the blue?”

“Sort of. We argued at work a lot and it was kinda … foreplay, I guess? One day we both sort of snapped and … Let’s just say we did something at work we shouldn’t have.”

“Oh shit.” Eddie chuckled, clearly more amused than horrified. “Well, hey, that’s good, right? I mean, you’re having fun?”

“I am,” Tyler said absently. He stared at the swing set across the neatly mown grass, the bikes he’d given the kids last year all parked next to it. “Donovan’s … he’s not like anyone I’ve ever been with and it’s not because he’s a guy.”

“This more than a hookup?” There was surprise in Eddie’s voice. “I mean, I know you got off with Frenchie while we were deployed, but I always figured it was … desperation or whatever. And you never talked about it.”

Tyler turned to face Eddie, not trying to hide his surprise. He’d had no idea Eddie had realized what they were up to. Talk about don’t ask, don’t tell.

Eddie continued. “I mean, it just kinda sounds like it might be more for you with this guy, and I figure you probably aren’t going to talk to me about it a lot unless it’s pretty important to you. Not that you shouldn’t. I just know you and the way you operate.”

“It’s … I don’t know what it is,” Tyler admitted. “I … we spend at least three nights a week together most weeks and … I don’t know.” It was so hard to put into words.

“Do you miss him when you aren’t together?”

Tyler thought of the times he rolled over onto his side, hand reaching out for Donovan’s side of the bed and the disappointment he felt at it being empty. He thought of how his mind wandered to Donovan every time he cooked eggs, how he was starting to be able to tell what foods would taste good together without looking up a recipe. He thought of the times they weren’t together, but he wanted to tell Donovan something. About how often he started to type out a text, then deleted it, worrying it was too much. That he was demanding too much of Donovan’s free time.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Do you think he thinks about you when you’re not together?”

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. “Maybe? I don’t know. I think so. Probably.”

“That’s a lot of qualifications in there, dude, but getting together a few days a week? That sounds like he’s pretty into you.”

“It’s hard to meet people when you work the hours we do. I’m convenient.” That was the argument that popped into Tyler’s head any time he thought about it.

Eddie shot him a look. “Hookup apps, dude. He could find someone.”

Donovan probably could. Tyler didn’t want him to, though. And that was the kicker.

“I guess.”

“Do you ever suggest getting together and he’s too busy for you?”

“No,” Tyler said slowly. “Any time I’ve wanted it, he’s been on board for it.”

“There you go. And you’re holding back why?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Guess I’m worried about what people will say. How things will change if I talk about it. What the guys would say, you know?”

“Why would the guys care?”

“They cared when Jackson and Hayes came out.”

“Yeah, I know but …” Eddie shook his head. “It was different then. We were pissed about them lying about their relationship, you know that. You were pissed too. No one gives a fuck now though. Were you lying then? That you were into women?”

“No!”

“Then there’s no problem. Tell ’em that. Might be a little weird at first but they’ll get it. None of us are exactly the same as we were before.” There was a bitter little twist to Eddie’s lips. “Besides, Hayes and Jackson are married to each other. They’re not going to give a fuck. I don’t care. Johnson and Frenchie are gone. So that leaves Gordo and if he’s a dick to you, I’ll punch him in the fucking face.”

“I guess it’s the questions that make me squirm. People getting all up in my business about it. Asking when and why and—”

“Anyone asking those questions is being a dick,” Eddie said. “And I’ll tell ’em that.”

“Thanks, man.” Tyler smiled faintly.

“I love you, dude.” Eddie draped an arm around his shoulder and Tyler pressed close. They’d sat like that a lot in Iraq. Tired and missing home. Missing touch. Tyler didn’t feel the tiniest spark of attraction to Eddie, not like he did when Donovan was beside him. This was like sitting by a warm fireplace. Comforting. Homey.

“I love you too,” Tyler said, his throat feeling thick.

“You love your chef?”

Tyler froze. “I … I don’t know.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Maybe I could.” It didn’t feel impossible the way it had when they’d first started fooling around.

“Does a future with him sound awesome or scary as fuck?”

“Both,” Tyler admitted.

“That’s how you know it’s right, dude. Remember the day I married Andrea?”

“Yeah.” Tyler laughed. “God, you were a fuckin’ mess.”

“I was. And I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with that woman, but I was scared shitless. We were so young.”

“None of us are young anymore.”

“Nope.” Eddie gave him a rueful smile. “But I think we’re still allowed to be fucking scared.”

“The weird thing is, it all makes sense when we’re together,” Tyler admitted. “You know that restless feeling we’ve all had since we’ve gotten out? Like something’s missing?”

“Yeah.”

“Donovan makes it go away. When I’m with him, my mind goes quiet. I don’t have to think about all the shit stressing me out.”

“Think you’d be willing to loan him out to me?” Eddie’s tone was joking, but it was clear there was real pain in his voice. “’Cause that sounds fucking amazing.”

“I don’t think you’re into the kind of shit he’s into,” Tyler said automatically.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Tyler froze. “Uhh. We’re kinda … kinky.”

Eddie snickered. “Yeah? You smack his ass and shit?”

Heart beating fast, Tyler ducked his head. “Other way around, man,” he muttered.

“Oh.” Eddie cleared his throat. “Well, cool. You do you. You think your man could smack my ass and shut this mess up?”

“Not sure it works that way,” Tyler said, tension easing at Eddie’s acceptance. At the way he made even heavy subjects feel lighter. “But yeah, if it would help, I’d be happy to loan him to you.”

Not that the thought of Donovan’s hands on anyone else sat well with Tyler—and that clearly meant he had something he’d have to think more about later—but for Eddie, he’d do it. He’d do anything for Eddie.

“Maybe talk to Andrea about that shit first,” Tyler said. He drained the rest of his coffee and sat the mug on the table beside him.

“Fuck, if it would help, she’d hand him a paddle herself.”

Tyler snorted. She probably would. “You think it would work?”

“Nah.” Eddie’s voice was sad. “Don’t think I’m wired that way.”

“Didn’t think I was either,” Tyler admitted.

“I dunno. You were always into weird shit. I know we all wrestled and stuff, just to burn off steam, but you were into it, man. You were always the instigator.”

Tyler nodded. “True.” He really had been. It had made him feel alive to square off with someone and get the shit kicked out of him. He’d never hesitated to go after guys with four inches and forty pounds of muscle on him that he knew he had no hope of winning against.

Had he only been trying to prove himself? To get stronger? Or had he enjoyed the sensation of being wrestled to the ground and subdued? Had he liked the feeling of helplessness and pain? Shit, that was something he was going to have to think more about too.

“And you always went harder at Ranger School than anyone. Even when your feet had blisters the size of a fucking half-dollar after fifteen-mile marches, you kept going.”

“I didn’t like that shit,” Tyler protested. “I just refused to fucking fail out because my feet hurt.”

“I’m just saying … you never shied away from pain. You remember that time you and Hayes played chicken with the cigarette.”

He looked down and traced the scar on his arm, remembering. “Yeah. I do.”

“Maybe you liked it.”

“Always just thought I was being stupid and macho,” Tyler said with a little laugh.

Eddie nudged his thigh with his knee. “Well, maybe that too.”

But it did put some things in perspective. There’d been this sergeant who’d loved to get up in his face and order him around. Which, hey, that was kind of his job as an instructor. But Tyler had really liked Quinn. He’d respected him. He’d snapped to attention and dug deep to keep going when Quinn pushed him. Maybe that had been a clue he’d never put together until now.

“It isn’t weird for you?” Tyler asked. “Thinking about me doing stuff like that?”

Eddie shrugged. “I want you to be happy, man. If being with a hipster chef who smacks your ass is your thing, go for it.”

“Don’t—” Tyler licked his lips. “Don’t tell anyone else, okay? Not Andrea or the guys. Not yet. Not until I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Sure. Your secret is my secret.”

That was the way it had always been.

He leaned harder against Eddie’s shoulder. “Wish I could help you more.”

Eddie sighed. It was heavy and sad sounding. “Me too, man. Me too.”

“Talk to me about it?”

“I don’t know what to say.” Eddie’s expression turned grim. “I don’t sleep much. When I do sleep, the nightmares have me thrashing around. I fucking hit Andrea a few months ago.”

Tyler grimaced. “Oh shit.”

“Not intentionally, of course. I’d never—”

“No, I know that,” Tyler assured him.

“She caught me on the tail end of a nightmare, and I woke up swinging. I caught her shoulder instead of her face, but God.” Eddie closed his eyes. “She swore up and down she was fine. That she didn’t blame me. Tried to say it was her fault for startling me but … Every time I saw that bruise, man … it made me sick.”

“I get it.”

It was one thing to play the way he and Donovan did. Tyler had developed quite a collection of bruises since they’d been together. They felt like a little reminder of the fun they’d had.

But hitting someone you loved who hadn’t agreed to it? Yeah, that was a whole different thing. Tyler couldn’t imagine it.

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor. I don’t want the kids to see we’re sleeping apart, but I don’t trust myself anymore.”

“Oh, Eddie.” Tyler leaned harder against him.

“I snap at the kids all the damn time too.” Eddie’s voice was weary. “And I feel like shit after, but I can’t control it. You know. My head’s just full of all this chatter and sometimes they’re loud and giggling and … Fuck! They’re just being kids. They don’t mean to make me crazy.” His laugh was hollow. “But I fucking am crazy. My head’s a mess and I …” He let out a noise of aggravation. “I just want it to stop.”

“I know.” Tyler’s heart ached. “Seems like you’ve been drinking a lot.”

“It helps. At least for a little bit. Makes the shit in my head go a little quieter.”

“I get that,” Tyler said. “But don’t you think it’s doing more harm than good?”

“Probably.” His laugh was bitter now. “I don’t know what else to do. The VA isn’t doing crap. I keep telling them I need help and they’ve done fuck all.”

“You were doing some outpatient therapy stuff here in Grand Rapids, right?”

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed. “The woman I was talking to at first was okay. It felt like we were getting somewhere, but at the end of August they switched me to someone else who is fucking useless. He’s never served. He has no idea what the fuck we’ve gone through.”

Sometimes, Tyler felt like he shouldn’t be lumped in with Eddie. What Tyler had seen had been minimal. He’d spent a lot of time clearing the way for supply convoys and guarding other strategic points, but their interactions with insurgents had been rare. He’d seen the aftermath of the destruction but had faced little of it himself. It was a lot of time being on alert, waiting for all hell to break loose, but that moment had thankfully never come.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d gone to war hoping to shoot someone. He’d discharged his weapon, but he’d never knowingly killed another human being, for which he was eternally grateful. He’d known he could do it, if he’d had to, but he was glad he’d never been forced to live with it after. To carry that weight for the rest of his life.

Eddie had. After Tyler had finished his four years and transitioned from active duty to reserves, Eddie had kept going. He’d been deployed to Afghanistan for a thirteen-month tour. The 87th Infantry Regiment, 1st Battalion had deployed to establish remote combat outposts against the Taliban after they had taken control of the provinces. During their tour of duty there were numerous large-scale engagements. They had been ordered to protect a critical juncture, a village at the crossroads of two main roads that were major supply lines of weapons, water, and gasoline.

Tyler didn’t know all the details, but he did know that Eddie and his company had worked alongside Afghan soldiers there to secure the area. They’d lost a solider and had more than a dozen others injured when a suicide bomber had blown himself up. There had been roadside bombs, a convoy ambushed by a rocket-propelled grenade, and American soldiers had shot a teenage Afghani boy at one point.

It had been hellish and ugly, and Tyler knew Eddie still felt responsible for the loss of lives. How much Eddie had been involved in directly, Tyler wasn’t sure. Eddie and Hayes had never spoken of their time there and it had left mental scars on them both. Hayes had struggled his way through but Eddie’s never seemed to heal.

Tyler thought back to Eddie’s comment about how the therapist didn’t understand what he’d been through. “I’m sorry the counselor isn’t helping.”

Eddie sighed. He leaned back, resting on his hands, tilting his face toward the sun. “Me too.”

“What about an inpatient rehab program? You know you need to get a handle on the drinking, man.”

“I feel so fucking guilty for how much I was gone while the kids were little. I don’t want to leave them again.”

“I get that,” Tyler said.

“It feels like I would be abandoning them, you know? I promised them I would never leave again for more than a night or two. I don’t want to break that promise to them.”

“In the long run, isn’t it better to go away for ninety days and come back as the father and husband your family deserves?” Tyler pointed out.

“Ugh.” Eddie sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. “It is. But …”

“Eddie, you’re abandoning them now. The way things are, you can’t be the father they need.” His tone was a little sharper than he’d intended.

Eddie’s face crumpled. “I know. I know that. God, I’m trying, Ty. But the VA is no help there either. I’m on another fucking waitlist. I get it, they’re underfunded, and they don’t have enough spots but …”

“It’s shitty,” Tyler said.

“It is.”

“What about a civilian place?”

“I’m on a six-month waitlist to get into a civilian inpatient rehab and even if I fucking get it, I don’t know how I’ll afford it. The VA will cover it partially but …” He shook his head. “The one place that could get me in sooner is so fucking pricey it would bankrupt us.”

“Fuck. You know if I had the money, I’d help you out.”

“I know that.” Eddie sighed and pressed closer. “But you’ve got your mortgage payments and all that.”

Tyler had considered just selling the damn place, finding a cheap rental or something. But real estate costs had only gone up in Pendleton in the past five years since he’d bought it. He could probably get a good price for his place but finding an inexpensive apartment to live was unlikely.

Not without him having to commute from somewhere in the middle of nowhere Michigan, and with his work hours, he’d be asking to crash on the way home from the bar at three in the morning.

“None of the private places would do a sliding scale for payment?” he asked.

“No,” Eddie said. “Andrea looked into it. My VA insurance fucks it all up. There’s all these gaps in coverage and it all amounts to the same thing: I’m fucked.”

This bitterness in Eddie’s voice was new. Tyler remembered Eddie being the prankster of their platoon. The one laughing and joking. The one who always kept up everyone’s spirits. Seeing him so unlike himself made Tyler’s chest ache.

Tyler sighed. “God, I wish Frenchie was here. He’d have busted everyone’s balls until he got you in somewhere.”

Eddie managed a half-smile. “Yeah, he would have.”

Charles French had been a half-French-Canadian medic and the only guy until Donovan who had ever blown Tyler. The memories of Frenchie’s mouth on Tyler’s dick, wet and soft, a sharp contrast to the feel of the cold, gritty wind against his face as he’d closed his eyes lingered. Even now, Tyler could still hear the thwap of Frenchie jerking off as he took Tyler’s dick into his throat, all business, quick and fast and rough. It had left Tyler gasping after, and Frenchie had merely stood, given him a wink as he zipped up, and disappeared behind the shipping containers, leaving Tyler to scuff out the evidence of Frenchie’s enjoyment in the dirt.

After that, Frenchie had been the same guy as always, a high-energy, ball-busting medic with a quick wit and even quicker temper. He’d died several years after Tyler left the service, when a roadside bomb went off. Frenchie had pulled half a dozen men to safety and tended their wounds but had been taken out by a Taliban sniper. Rafe Johnson had died that day too.

When they served together, Frenchie had been the guy everyone went to when they needed something done. If anyone could have gotten Eddie squared away, it would have been him, thanks to his medic connections. But he was gone, and Tyler was helpless to do anything.

All he could do was sit there on the picnic table in the Silvas’ back yard, leaning against Eddie like it would somehow be enough to hold his fragmented pieces together.