Granddad lifts his glasses to his nose and looks down at the watch. “Something is broken, but I’m not sure it’s something you’ll be able to fix, Faithy,” he says. I like it when he adds a silly y to my name. “Sometimes, these things are beyond our control.”
“It hasn’t worked since the blast,” I explain. “The one where he lost his leg and his team.” Granddad looks over at him.
“I didn’t even notice his leg last night,” he says. He blows out a breath. He looks me in the eye. “You want to fix him or the watch?” he asks.
“Oh, stop,” I complain. “It’s only a watch. I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.”
“Sometimes they just give up, Faith.” He starts to tinker with the watch. “You remember what that was like, don’t you?” He looks into my eyes and then goes back to the watch. “I’d say this one gave up a while ago.” I feel like Granddad is talking about more than the broken timepiece. He’s talking about the man. And I’m afraid he’s right. “What does he have left to live for?” Granddad asks me quietly. His words aren’t more than a breath in the quiet space.
“Can you fix it?” I ask. “He’s all alone,” I say. I look over at him. He’s stirring.
“You’re never alone, Faithy. You know this.” He looks up at me with a telling glance.
“I know. But sometimes you can feel like you are.”
He looks up at me over the rims of his glasses. “You’re not talking about yourself are you? Because I will have to take you out to the woodshed if you are.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t have a woodshed, Granddad.”
“You get the idea,” he growls.
“I was talking about him,” I admit. “But he says he’s going to join his team tomorrow. That’s good, right?”
Granddad nods. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daniel sit up. He scrubs a hand across his hair and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. He pulls his pant leg up and puts his prosthesis back on. Standing up gingerly, he settles his weight onto both limbs. He walks over to us.
“’Morning,” Granddad says. But his attention is on the watch.
“Good morning,” Daniel replies. He looks at me and smiles shyly. It’s really rather endearing, and my heart does this pitter patter thing in my chest that scares me a little.
“Coffee?” I ask.
He nods and looks grateful, so I use the cup I brought down for him earlier and fill it up.
“Black okay?” I ask.
He smiles. “Perfect.” He takes a sip and nods to his watch. “Did you get it to work?”
I bite my lips together and shake my head. “I’m sorry. I took it apart several times, and I can’t find any reason why it’s not working.”
“I always assumed the blast loosened things up inside it.”
I shake my head again. “Everything is fine on the inside. It’s sound.”
Daniel
My watch is exactly like me. It’s dead on the inside. And it’s not going to start back up any more than I am.
Henry snaps the back onto the watch and passes it to me. “I’m very sorry, young man,” he says. “I hoped we could help.”
I take it from him and put it back on my arm. “Thank you for trying,” I say. I shake his hand and he grips mine tightly. I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
Henry shakes his head. “Not a thing. We couldn’t fix it. You don’t pay.” He nods to me and goes back upstairs. He turns back at the last minute and says, “Happy new year, son.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say back. The door closes behind him.
Faith blows out a heavy sigh. “He looks so tired,” Faith says. “But he keeps going. He never gives up.” She blows out a heavy breath.
“Did you sleep?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not yet.”
Her hair is loose around her shoulders, now. Earlier, it was in a messy, beautiful knot on top of her head. She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, and she looks comfortable. I jerk a thumb toward the couch. “I hope it’s okay that I slept on the couch. I woke up and you were gone.”
She smiles. “I just went to check on Nan and take a shower.” She picks up my arm and looks down at my watch, biting her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it. I know it’s important to you.”
I shrug. “It’s not important.” Or at least it won’t be after tonight. “It was one of many things on a list I have to get done today.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What else is on your list?”
“Just some stupid stuff,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.
“Such as…” She leaves the question hanging in the air between us.
Heat creeps up my cheeks. I don’t know why my list embarrasses me. “I wanted to get a tattoo. So I got one last night.”
“Oh,” she says, brightening visibly. “Can I see?”
My face heats even more. I lift my sleeve though, and let her look at it. Instead of reaching for the tattoo, her fingers tentatively slide down the burns on my forearm, just below it.
“Did this happen in Afghanistan?” she asks. Her hand trembles against my skin, and I want to jerk her to me. But I have nothing to offer her. Nothing at all.