My Boys Ch. 01

Towards the end of July 2003, Mark and I said a teary farewell to our best friend. Tim had orders to Iraq. We didn't know a lot about what was happening there. We just knew that it wasn't a place for such a gentle giant as my Timmy. We didn't see much of Tim in the coming years.

Mark and I stayed close at school. Eventually, we began dating and moved in together. I wrote to Tim often and told him of our relationship. He replied that he was happy for us. Mark and I graduated in 2007 from San Diego State University. He graduated with a major in finance and a minor in business administration. I received a marketing degree in communications. We had lost contact with Tim; he never came home. I often wondered if it was because Mark and I started dating. I still loved my Timmy and wanted him home with me.

Mark and I married in the summer of 2008 and, with the help of his parents, started a real estate development firm in Los Angeles. We purchased a wonderful condo overlooking the Santa Monica State Beach and pier. I took a position as an up-and-coming star at a marketing firm in LA, and I also helped my husband with his new venture. We prospered, and by the time 2009 came around, we were on our way to being financially secure.

My mom called in early 2009. Tim was home. He was seriously injured and was currently stationed at the Marines Wounded Warriors Center in Camp Pendleton. We met him at my parents' in San Diego as soon as we could.

I watched out the front window while getting things prepared for his visit. I was apprehensive. Tim never shared details about his injuries with anyone, just that he was home and preparing to be discharged. My fears got the best of me, and I was scared for him. I was scared for the three of us. It didn't matter that I was now married to our best friend. My love for Tim was as solid as it ever was. I caught a glimpse of a black sedan pulling away from the curb. Tim wouldn't let anyone come and get him. He insisted on using a car service.

I ran to the porch. There was my Timmy, in his green Alpha uniform. He had slimmed down, but he was still an imposing monster of a man. I ran and launched myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around him. I didn't even fully investigate his face. I was shortly pinned to this man by my husband, who hugged his lifelong best friend and wife. Tim wrapped the two of us into a bear hug with those tree trunks he called arms. After a moment and some prodding from our families, Mark and I relinquished our hold on Tim. As I looked up into his face, I felt a catch in my throat.

He had all his arms, legs, and digits, but starting above his left eye was a deep rutted scar. It ran down his cheek, crossed the outer edges of his lips, and traveled down his neck, disappearing into his uniform. His handsome face was scarred by war. Those eyes, those damn eyes, were still as bright and soulful as ever. I pressed my face into his chest, just below the heart I treasured, and cried.

Everyone came out and greeted Tim. It took a while, but we finally got him into the house. Drink orders were taken, and most of us got settled in the sitting room. I went off to help with the drinks. When I came back into the room, a beer in each hand, one for each of my boys, I handed Tim his and settled onto Mark's lap as was my custom. I caught the unsettled look on Tim's face, and for a moment, I felt ashamed. Part of me felt like I betrayed him, even though I knew I hadn't. Tim had broken contact with me, and our relationship was never really defined, so there wasn't any betrayal. The feeling was there, nonetheless.

The tension was building. Mark's father began speaking, in hope of relieving the anxiety. He didn't show it often, but he had a soft spot for Tim. He'd known Tim for as long as Mark had, and he knew of all the trials and misfortunes Tim had endured. His parents divorced when he was five. He struggled in school. He had a deadbeat dad. His mom passed. He lost his scholarship. And he was injured in Afghanistan. On several occasions, I overheard Mark's father telling his wife, "If God only gives us what we can handle, I'd hate to see what that boy can't handle."

"So, Tim, how's your recovery going? How have you been keeping yourself busy?"

"It's good, Mr. Davis. PT sucks, but I'm making progress." You always had to interpret Tim's responses. He actually meant basically, it's a living hell. A mere mortal would be crushed by the pain. The endless suffering has made me reassess my status as a confirmed atheist. But I won't quit. I'm a Marine, and what doesn't kill me only makes me stronger. I'm alive and making do. That is what my man was really saying. "And surfing."

"Surfing?" I was a little surprised since he had never seemed interested in that before. I knew he was a great swimmer but never figured he'd want to be a beach bum.

He chuckled at me a little, "Yes, Brie. I needed a physical hobby, and one of the corpsmen suggested I try surfing."

I could feel my jealousy surfacing; I knew those slutty Navy women liked to get their hands on big, strong, tough Marines.

"I suppose your 'corpsman' is cute too." It slipped out before my filters kicked in.

"Well, I suppose he might be. He just isn't my type, though." Everyone laughed as my face reddened more.

"How did it happen? Where were you at? How many tours did you do?" It was Steven, Mark's brother. We all knew he was anxious to hear the details. I guess we were all wondering.

"Steven!" His mother admonished him quickly.

"No, it's okay, Mrs. Davis. You guys are like family. I don't keep many secrets from you guys."

"I hope you keep a few," Mark added quickly.

"Me too," I whispered to myself.

Tim laughed once again. His eyes sparkled as he responded, "I did two tours in Iraq and almost ten months in Afghanistan. That is where I got hit. We were providing security for an EOD team when we were ambushed. An RPG hit the Humvee I was squatting behind, and some of the vehicle's shrapnel hit me on my left side." He passed his right hand from his left eye and across his chest."

"How bad is it?" Not sure why I asked, but it killed me to know that my Timmy was wounded and didn't even let me know about that before he came home. I thought of all those hours he suffered alone, needing me.

"Not as bad as it could have been. My vision in the left eye was affected some but not enough for glasses. I lost some hearing in that ear as well. I also lost a chunk of muscle in the bicep and out of my chest. I'm not as strong as I used to be, but I'm good enough to paddle a surfboard."

Steven Pointed out at Tim's ribbons, "Is that a Purple Heart?"

"Yes. I'm told I got it for being bigger than the damn Humvee was." Again, the group chuckled. We all imagined that monster trying to fit into a rolling tuna can.

"I recognize most of these from friends who served, but what is that one?" Steven was pointing at a red ribbon with a white outlined blue stripe in the center adorned with a bronzed V.

Tim looked down and then back up. "That's the Bronze Star. It's awarded for being stupid under fire. The V means I was extraordinarily stupid." He looked at the group. It was apparent to all he didn't want to talk about it. "I wasn't going to leave my men exposed like that, and I guess someone thought I deserved a medal for it." His eyes darkened with the memory; we all knew to drop the subject.

"So, what's next for Tim Gallows?" That was my dad, the tax attorney. It's all about dollars and cents for him.

"Well, Mr. Shields, I'm thinking of an apprenticeship as an ironworker. The union came to one of my separation classes and made it sound interesting. I start welding classes on base, in a transition program, and I hope to join the union in San Diego when I'm discharged."

"Wow, Tim! That's a very honorable and potentially profitable career. I wish you the best."

"Thank you, Mr. Shields."

Tim turned his attention to Mark's hand, which was resting between my thighs. His eyes landed on the ring displayed on my left hand. "So, how did this happen?"

I was dreading this topic. I knew it was coming and that we needed to talk about it. I also knew in my heart that Mark and I didn't betray Tim's loyalty or trust. But that didn't really matter. It was awkward.

"You know, we were in school together, and we still hung out and stuff. I needed a date to a sorority thing and didn't want to go with anyone I didn't know, so I asked Mark. He agreed."

I stopped to take a sip of Mark's beer. He was watching me, curious about how I would handle Tim's question. We had talked about how we'd deal with it if Tim brought the topic up, most recently when we found out Tim was coming home but didn't come to a decision.

"One thing just led to another," I trailed off.

"I realized I would be a fool not to make this beautiful woman my wife, so I asked her to marry me after graduation. I wanted you to be there as my best man, but you never responded to my emails or letters. We were willing to delay everything until you got here, but Steven stepped in when we didn't hear from you." I could hear the aggravation in Mark's voice. He really did want Tim to be there with us. I think he loved that big lug almost as much as I did.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Communication services were spotty, and I didn't get notice till it was way too late." Tim doesn't lie very often, but I was sure this was one of those times. I watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He dropped his eyes to the floor. I could tell he was ashamed for ignoring us. I always figured he got the messages and refused to attend. Now, I knew I was correct.

"I should have been there." He told the floor. That was Tim-speak for: I'm a total jerk for missing my best friend's wedding because I was butt-hurt from losing the love of my life.

About that time, my mother came in and let everyone know lunch was ready. We ate and joked as a family. Tim watched us all intently. It was good having him home. My soul was complete again. It felt like a huge piece of me was missing for the past six years, and now it wasn't. I brushed a tear away as I pardoned myself to go to the restroom. I wondered whether Tim's soul was as incomplete as mine was complete.

Tim slipped out the side door as lunch broke up, enjoying the California sunshine on his scarred face in the backyard. I slipped out behind him.

"Mind some company?"

Turning slowly, he responded quietly, "Brie, you are not company. You're a part of me." His face blushed with being caught with his guard down as he shared his true feelings.

Again, I launched myself into those massive arms, clutching that thick neck, "I've missed you so much, Timmy. Have you missed me at all?"

As was his style, he responded by crushing me. I felt no loss of strength in his grip. I just closed my eyes and nestled my face into his neck. I enjoyed his scent and the feel of his body against mine once again. I don't know how long we were pressed together like that. We didn't hear Mark's approach.

"You aren't trying to steal my wife, are you, Marine?"

Tim immediately released me, but I only dropped a few inches to the ground, refusing to let him go entirely.

"I, uh, I, no Mark." It was so cute to watch a man of his size stutter and stumble on his words. Mark walked up to him, taking the big man into a hug of his own.

"She may be my wife, but she'll always be our girl. You are the only man in this entire world that I trust her with. We both love you, man, and we need you in our lives. She needs you in her life."

Tim and I both kind of stared at Mark. That was always an unspoken thought, but it felt bizarre to hear it come from my husband.

Stepping back from Tim, Mark faced me. "Brie, I think it's time. Can you bring this goof to the driveway?" I smiled as I took his hand and led him around to the front of the house and the garage door.

The motor kicked in slowly, raising the door to a smiling Mark and his father. Tim's eyes widened with awe as his completely restored Firebird came into view.

"Is that, is that the same Firebird?"

"Yes," replied Mark's father, "It came up for sale last year after the guy you sold it to finished the restoration and got bored with it. We bought it and held onto it for you."

"What?" you could hear the excitement in his voice

Mark held up a key ring. It dangled in front of the astonished man. "We figured you'd need a set of wheels to get around town in, and we want you to have it back."

"Tim, we all knew how much you loved your grandfather's car and how much it killed you to sell it to help your mother. It's rightly yours, and it belongs with you. Let's say it's our way of saying 'Thank you for your service,' and for coming back to our family." I swear John's, Mr. Davis', eyes bulged as he was wrapped in a big bear hug, and as soon as Tim dropped him, Mark and I were scooped back up. I could feel Tim's joy fiercely radiating onto all of us.

Tim walked around the car a few times, running his bulky fingers down each fender and then checking out the interior. He slipped into the driver's seat and turned the key. The 'Bird roared to life. That smile. Those eyes. It was good to see joy on Tim's face again. Tim killed the engine. He inspected the key chain as he removed the keys, looking up at Mark with a quizzical expression.

"What's this key to?"

"That, my friend, is the key to our condo." Mark pointed to himself and me as he said it. "We want you to come live with us. We have three bedrooms, and one of them is calling you. I figure you can join a union in LA as easily as you can in San Diego. Plus, the beach will literally be right outside your front door. You can surf anytime you want."

I'm not sure how to describe the look on Tim's face. Was it fear? Confusion? Embarrassment?

"I can't do that, Mark; you guys need your space. There's no way I can afford to live in LA. I could end up with you for a really long time."

I recalled when Mark and I had discussed this topic in detail.

"I'm so glad he is getting out, Mark. Do you think he'll stay in San Diego after he does?" I lamented one evening as we ate dinner and discussed our friend's welcome home party. "I'm not sure what other options he has."

"It's hard to say, Brie. The bugger hasn't spoken to anyone, nor has he let anyone know what's been going on in his life. I hope he stays local." Mark took another bite of dinner.

Always the problem solver, I offered a solution. "Mom and Dad have that spare room; I wonder if they'd allow him to stay with them?"

"Hell, for that matter, he could stay here."

"Are you serious?" I tried to contain my excitement. I didn't want to come off as too eager. "I'm sure there are jobs he can get here in LA. Do you think that will put a strain on our relationship?" Deep down, that was one of my fears. Tim was the only other man I could ever see myself with, or at least the Tim I grew up with. I wondered if those latent feelings could resurface and create issues between all of us.

"Do you still have feelings for him? I mean more than just a friend." Mark was locked onto me, staring into my eyes.

"I'll always love him, Mark. To what degree I will is still unknown. I don't know him anymore. He may be a completely different person than he was. Whether he is or not, you are my husband, not him. I'm committed to you and you to me. We are thoroughly committed to each other. I can't see that changing.

"I just want Tim in a safe place where he can be whatever he wants to be." I completed the thought as I maintained eye contact with my husband, "If we can provide that for him, even if it's for a little while, we need to. I want to try. He's our oldest, closest friend. Yes, it may change our relationship, which doesn't bother me. I think any changes will improve what we have now."

Chuckling and relaxing his glare, Mark took a sip of his drink before offering his thoughts.

"I know you love him, Brie. I do too. Our love for him, of course, is different, but he is family to me, and I will always do everything I can for my family.

"Besides, I'm traveling more, and a questionable element is moving in around us. I wouldn't mind having a human pit bull here to watch over you." Taking another bite of dinner, Mark pondered quietly for a moment. "I'm not concerned about our relationship, Brie. I know you would never do anything to put it in jeopardy. We're in the perfect place to bring him home."

I offered a sly smile to my husband, the kind that promises he's going to get his bones jumped later, as he completes his thought. "Okay, it's settled. We bring him home with us, where he belongs. I think this will be best for all of us, as long as we can convince him of that!" Mark had a self-assured air about him now; he was pleased with himself.

Mark coughed quietly which brought me back to the present. He started talking to Tim.

"As I told you, brother, you're family. We need you. We're not complete without you. You'll stay with us for as long as you need to stay. Forever, if Brie has anything to say about it." Mark gestured toward me as he said that. "You stay with us while you complete your apprenticeship and save some money to find your own place. We both want this."

The only other time I've seen tears in Tim's eyes was at his mother's service. He looked at us both. I stepped up into his arms, slipping my arms around his broad shoulders. "We both want this, Tim. Really. Please say "Yes," and come be with your family."

"Okay." There it was, my man of few words. That was Tim-speak for: I love you both so much that it hurts, and I don't know how I manage to breathe without you. You could hear the emotion in his voice even in that one word. My heart soared once again; I was about to have both my boys back in my life, where they belonged.

It took about eight months, but Tim finally separated from the Marines, was accepted into the apprenticeship program in a LA Union, and started classes at a local college. He enjoyed living on the ocean; he surfed every morning and evening when he could. I liked having him close, and I think Mark did too. It was like a missing piece of our puzzle was now back where it belonged.

It's so hard to explain. The connection among the three of us was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. The nearest thing that even resembled our closeness was the bonding within families. That's what it felt like, but not exactly.

Our families met some of our needs but not all. Same for our friends. Our connection was, in some ways, more profound than a family connection alone or a friend connection alone. It had elements of both. It was special.

Mark had the outgoing personality; Tim had the reserved one. Tim allowed Mark to lead in most situations. Tim was happy to follow. That part of our relationship met needs that I couldn't meet for either of them.

I think it gave Mark security. In return, Tim received love and family, and friendship. Tim was alone; his biological family had scattered by then, and all he had was Mark and me. We offered him stability and provided him with a social life. He needed the connection more than he ever wanted to admit he did, especially the one with me. Weirdly, it was like I was his wife as well. I provided the love that I don't think anyone else could provide to him.

For me, it was love. Plain and true. I loved Mark with all my heart, but Tim completed me. I was a better wife and person when Tim was nearby. Was it sexual? Hell yes. Even though Tim and I weren't sleeping together, I would fantasize about him when I toyed myself. But that was as far as it went.

It was nearing dusk; I was in the bay window with our telescope watching the surfers when Mark made it home from work.

"Are you watching your boyfriend surf?" That phrase coming from my husband would have sounded strange to someone who didn't know us. Mark called Tim 'your boyfriend' whenever we were alone, and I understood what he meant.