I can't enforce. Don't make me force you."
"That's exactly what you're trying to do!" she ground out. "I won't be bullied! You Marines are all alike and I've had it with the lot of you! Get out of my kitchen and out of my apartment. Now!" Kirsten hoisted the skillet threateningly and was immediately sorry as Simon's right hand flashed out. disarming her instantly.
"Stop behaving like a child," he ordered, setting the pan down firmly on the counter and pushing the letter into her numb hand. "Open it," he grated, standing over her in a menacing manner that made her sorry she hadn't struck him while she'd had the chance. But then again, with his thick skin the skillet probably would only have bounced off, leaving him undented, she thought furiously.
Kirsten glared at him, knowing herself helpless and hating the feeling more than she'd hated anything else in the world except Jim Talbot. But she knew there was not one damn thing she could do to change the situation short of running, screaming, out into the parking lot. She was, Kirsten decided, a victim of her size and lack of self-defense training. Someday, she promised herself as her fingers ripped open the letter with a vicious gesture, she was going to remedy that last matter. Trembling with fury, she read the note in her late husband's handwriting.
Dear Kirsten:
I know you'll be coming home when you've had a chance to calm down. Like most women, you're too emotional for your own good. Unfortunately, there's a chance I won't be waiting in the doorway to greet my errant bride. If that's the case, you'll be reading this letter instead. I'm going to the cabin for a few days until the atmosphere settles. When you return I want you to wait two weeks for me. If I haven't put in an appearance by then, take the Heart and the lighter to Phil Hagood. He's never met you but he'll recognize the medal and the old Zippo. Tell him to remember me occasionally when he uses the lighter. Will you think of me once in a while, also?
It was signed, simply, Jim.
"Who's Phil Hagood?" Simon had been reading over her shoulder.
"A buddy from Vietnam, I think. Jim used to keep his address handy." Kirsten's surprise at the strange letter had cooled some of her anger. She reread it quickly and this time shook her head in exasperation.
"The personality of Jim Talbot is totally summed up in that first sentence," Kirsten told Simon dryly, tapping the letter with one finger. "The man actually had the gall to think I'd come back to him!"
"What exactly did he do to you, Kirsten?" Simon pushed gently, curious eyes intently studying her thoughfully bent head.
Kirsten sighed and slanted a resenIful glance up at him. Having lost the main battle, there didn't seem to be any reason not to give up the minor skirmishes, too. At least for now.
"I met Jim Talbot. correction, Lieutenant James Talbot, USMC, six months ago. He was no longer in the Marines, you understand, but a Marine never forgets. Or is that an elephant? At any rate, I made, as I stated earlier, the biggest mistake of my life and thought he was what I wanted for a husband. I was assisted in that decision by the fact that my father, also an ex-Marine, thought Jim was terrific. I now realize that having worn the uniform, the man could do no wrong in Dad's eyes. For some idiotic reason I considered my father a good judge of men. Jim and I were married within a month. He began playing around almost immediately. I guess it would be more accurate to say he had never stopped playing around. I was pleased to make the discovery because it gave me the excuse I had been looking for since the first week of my marriage to leave."
Kirsten paused to see how Simon was taking the narrative. He was back to lounging against the refrigerator, she noticed. His expression was attentive but blank. Drawing a breath, she continued.
"I had found myself married to a man incapable of really caring for others. A wife was a convenience, a toy. In my case she was also
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley