“It’s not going to be so bad.  You’ll see.  You got yourself a good, strong man.”

“I know.”  I slide the valance into place on the rod, and position it in the window.  It’s blue, like the walls are.  Light blue with white bears in sailor suits.  It’s the one thing Vance said he liked, and probably the only thing we agreed on when it came to our unborn son’s nursery.  The room is an add on, and the initial construction was completed a month after he left.  At first we were going to have the baby room with Layla, our five year old, but an inheritance from his grandfather changed all that.  We were able to renovate the kitchen as well.  Now our dismal house looks more like a home.  One that I’m proud to be raising my children in.

It’s been eight months.  Vance made me promise not to send him any pictures, because he wanted to be surprised when he came home.  Up until last week, I couldn’t wait for him to see it all.  Couldn’t wait for him to come home, and wrap his arms around me in a month.

Now I just...I don’t know what to think, what to expect.  I’ve tried to stay positive, just be thankful that I still have a husband at all.  My family and friends have been keeping me calm.  They’ve told me these things happen, but that Vance is strong, that he’ll overcome the situation and be better for it.  

The army officials that knocked on my door  wouldn’t get into what the extent of his injuries were.  They told me there was a mission and that Vance was badly injured, but he survived.  Everyone tells me it’ll be okay, that he’ll be able to recover here at home with us, that he won’t be deployed again because he’s not...not capable of serving anymore.  Vance never wanted to make career out of this whole thing, at least that was what he told me.  He said he wanted to do his time so he could go to school and give us the lives we deserved.

But I don’t know what’s going to happen now.  I don’t know anything at all, and while it should seem like all is well, that we’re going to have a lot of support...I’ve never felt so alone before.

“You feed Carl today, Taylor?”

“Shit.”  I let out a little sigh and carefully step down off the step stool, bracing my back once my feet hit the floor.  I’m eight months pregnant, and I can’t wait to get this kid out of me.  “I didn’t get over there yet.”

“Well I’d say I would go do it for you,” my sister, Suzette, smirks.  “But you know how Justin is about that damn dog.  He’d probably smell my presence or something.”

The mention of his name gets a small smile to tug at my lips.  Justin.  All the names in the world to name a Boston Terrier, and he picked Carl, but then again, I know Olivia was a big fan of the name too.  She was just like him, though.  So much in fact that they took flack for it constantly...being called sickos, weirdo lovebirds, and the like.

But they didn’t deny it.  They knew how perfect they were for each other, just like everybody else did.

That’s why...when she went, it was so hard for all of us.

Harder for me I guess...because she was my sister.

When Justin deployed, he made me promise to keep watch over Carl.  He said I was the only one he trusted to do it, and I knew how much he was hurting.  I couldn’t blame him.  She hadn’t even been gone a month when he got called up for duty.  Everybody told him he should have called in for personal circumstance, even Vance said he would cover for him, but I think he wanted to get away...so he could try to forget.

But I don’t think Justin could ever forget the love of his life.

I haven’t spoken to him since he left.  He wrote me a letter, checking up on Carl, but he didn’t give much away.  He talked a lot about Vance, probably because he knew I’d want to know what was going on.  I knew though...I knew he was hiding so much from me, because I’ve known him since I was four, and he’s never kept anything from me.

But I also knew that Justin wasn’t the type of guy who liked to be pushed into describing his feelings, either.  Actually, Liv was the only one who was really good at getting Justin to say what he felt, and I think I knew...from that first time he came over to take Liv to the movies when we were in the eighth grade, that she was the one for him.

“I’ll go do it.  Could you just keep an eye on Layla for me?”

“Sure thing,” she smirks.  “I’ll get supper started too.  Momma and Daddy said they were going to drop by.  They want to see the nursery all finished and Momma said she’d keep an eye on Lay so you can get yourself packed for tomorrow.”

I nod.  “Good.  That’s fine.  I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

She waves a little as she walks away, and I crumple up the packages from the window treatments, and squish them into the plastic bag I received at the baby supply store.  Then I stand back, and survey everything, smiling slightly because I like what I see.  The girls at my shower spoiled me, that’s for sure, and my parents were more then generous, paying for a very expensive crib and furniture set.  I was going to use Layla’s old stuff, but Momma said she wanted to do something special for me.  I think it made her feel a little bit better, comforted I guess, since Liv was gone.

I miss her.  So much.

I sniffle back the onset of tears.  No time for that today, especially since tomorrow I’m sure I’ll shed more than my share of them.  Instead, I hold my head high and head out of the house, making sure to check on my daughter beforehand.  She’s planted in front of the TV with her Little Einsteins cartoons flashing across the screen, as she always is these days, playing with her toys and making little noises.  I’d love to be able to plop right down and start playing with her, like I used to before things started getting hectic with my pregnancy and what happened to Liv.

After Ollie comes...I’ll have more time.  I’ll make time.  I have to.

I drive the fifteen minutes to Justin’s place.  The one that used to be filled with so much laughter, and family, and happiness.  It’s a world away from that now, with Liv gone and Justin having been away.  It seems so empty, so eerie.  Carl is the only thing that reminds me that there is a history inside the place, and when I glance around the walls and see them together..I feel that sense of family, of great friendship, rush back to me.  

It’ll be good to see Justin. If anybody can help me keep my head together during a time like this, it’s him.

Carl runs up to the door when I unlock it and push it open, and I squat down, smiling at him as he licks my face.  “Who wants a walk...who who?”

He barks.

I smile and go inside, and he happily follows behind me.  I ignore the pictures on the walls, on top of the mantle, as I fasten Carl’s harness around him, and pick him up.  We take a long walk around the neighborhood, and I make sure to pick up his number two business with the pooper scooper that’s been kept handy in the house since Carl was welcomed into the family.  Olivia bought it as a Christmas gag gift for Justin, had Carl’s name imprinted on it and all.  She was funny like that, quirky, but it made Justin laugh, and fall deeper in love with my sister.

They started turning a bedroom, the one at the very end of the hall, into a nursery in the beginning of the year.  They were trying very hard to get pregnant, before Justin was deployed again, but she passed before that could happen.  I don’t go in there.  I’m scared of what I might see, about how upset I might get.  I try not to go in any of the bedrooms, in fact.  I don’t want to see Liv’s clothing, or any of her personal things, because I know Justin hasn’t touched them.  He didn’t  have time, and I know he was too grief stricken to start that process.

I hope that he’ll reach out for support when he feels ready to do that.

I get Carl back to the house, and feed him his supper, microwaved dog food...thirty seconds on high, in the fridge for one minute.  Dog is spoiled rotten.  I stop at the answering machine while he eats it, listening to the various messages and adding them to the list I keep for when Justin gets home.  In the middle, the phone begins to ring, and I answer it, ready my pen to start taking yet another message.

“Timberlake residence.”

“Tay?”

There’s static a lot of noise in the background consisting mostly of loud shouts and machinery.  I recognize where he is right away, because it’s the same sounds I hear whenever Vance calls.  “Hey...Justin.  Aren’t you supposed to be getting on a plane?”

“I am...I just...I was checking in.  I called your house and your sister said you were at my place.”

“Oh.”  I place the pen and pad down gently. “Well...I just walked Carl.”

He hasn’t called at all, and I’m curious as to why he would do it now, when he’s coming home tomorrow anyway.  Vance and Justin are in the same company, same platoon, under the same lieutenant, and I’m sure that Justin was there the night that Vance got hurt.  I want to ask him what happened, beg him to tell me, but I know that I can’t do it.  Justin and Vance don’t talk about the field.  It’s like some kind of code that they live by at all costs.  I guess it’s more to protect the family...but something serious happened this time around.  

“Hows my little bit?”

“He’s...okay...I think he misses you a lot.”

“And you?  How’s that baby growing?”

“He’s getting bigger by the minute.”

I hear him laugh but then he sighs, and I know he didn’t just call to check up on Carl or me.  Feeling bold, I decide to ask him the question that’s been itching to get out since I heard his voice.  “How’s Vance?”

“He’s...hanging in...”  Justin trails off.  I hear more static, more shouts.

“Can you...can you tell me anything?”

“Vance doesn’t want me to say anything.  Especially not to you.”

That means it’s bad.  I know Vance better than anybody, and if his injuries were as simple as a couple of broken bones, I’m sure Justin would have came right out and said it.  “Justin...”

The background gets quieter.  “Listen, Tay.  I...I shouldn’t be telling you anything, but you’re my best friend and I think you should know.  I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days and the last thing I want is for you to be shocked when he gets wheeled off that airplane tomorrow.  I think you should know what to expect.  It’s only right.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try my best not to whimper.  I can’t cry.  Not on the phone. I’ve trained myself not to do it, for Vance’s sake.  “What is it?”

“There was a raid...we were trapped, me and two other guys,” he begins.  “We took cover but we couldn’t get out of there.  Our lieutenant sent another squad to find us and...Vance was part of it.  He got us out of there but...but when we were running back to the humvee there was this big explosion.  They said Vance must have stepped in a land mine or something...”

There’s a long pause, and I’m speechless.

“He...he’s burned up pretty bad, Tay.”

I hang my head low, and bite down on my knuckles.  “How bad?”

“Bad.”

He doesn’t need to say anything else.  I know how horrible it must be, and a miracle my Vance survived at all.  “So I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah.  You will.”

More static, shouts.

“Taylor.”

“I’m here.”

“I...I’m sorry.  I’m sorry he...he got it instead of me.”

“Justin, don’t say that.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs.  “I guess I shouldn’t say it.  I’ll talk to you, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Static, and then the line goes dead.  I place the phone back on it’s cradle, the small picture beside it of Justin and Liv on their wedding day catching my eye as I slide down to the floor. He was happier then.

We all were.

I feel the tears gliding down my face, and I clutch my baby bump, knowing it will be the only comfort I have until I see my husband again, and even then...I know he’s not going to be the same man that left me eight months ago.

“And this is Carolyn.  She’s the oldest...and this one, this is Bobby.  He just turned seven...”

She’s sweet.  I mean, she reminds me of my grandmother and normally I’d be a lot more talkative, tell her about my family back home.  Tell her I’ve married the most amazing girl and that we’re trying for a baby.

But I can’t tell her that.

The past eight months are a blur, and I pushed most of the rough shit out so I could focus on doing my job, because lives depended on it.  I had fun though, kicking the crap out of those bastards in Afghanistan, getting to the bottom of shit that needed to be resolved.  I’m a muscle guy.  At least, that’s the slang term.  They bring me along for intimidation mostly.  Sarge does the talking, me and Vance usually just stand there and look intimidating with our guns until our services are required.  I don’t like scaring people, of course, but I do it to make a difference in the lives of innocent people.

I wish those people could just settle their differences so we didn’t have to, but then...I would have been home all this time, dealing with things.

And I didn’t want to deal with them.

I still don’t, but it looks like I don’t have a choice.  I came home because I was asked, since there was nobody else that knew Vance like I did, cared about him like I did, considered him as much of a brother as I did.  Mostly, I think I did it for Tay and her family, to give them peace of mind, and so I could support them during this really difficult time.

Or maybe it’s just the guilt that got to me, and I feel obligated to make things right.

He tells me I shouldn’t blame myself, that there was nothing I could have done.  I was in charge though.  I was in charge and I led us right into a trap.  Two more hours and I know they would have found us, killed us or taken us hostage...attempted to barter our lives for some holy crusade.  If it hadn’t been for Vance, I know I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, talking about this lady’s grandkids and hoping like hell that the house doesn’t still smell like Livy.

Am I happy that I survived? I’m not so sure.  Vance is a mess, more of mess than Taylor even realizes, and I’m not so sure what’s going to happen once he’s home and settled.  It’s going to take a long time, lots of surgeries and physical therapy before he’ll be able to function properly again.  Even when he does, he’ll never look the same.  There’s too much damage, and no amount of plastic surgery can help reconstruct his face into what it used to be.

I feel for the guy, and if it could have been me, I would have made it so.  But it wasn’t...and I regret it.  I keep thinking, what if I hadn’t made it? Would I be able to see her again?  It’s enough to make me do something drastic once I’m home, tie some rope around my neck, kick out a chair from underneath me but...Olivia, wherever she is, I doubt she would forgive me for giving up.  She was never a quitter and neither was the guy she married.

But fuck, I miss the hell out of her, and if it meant I could see her tomorrow, I’d kill myself today.

“You goin’ home to someone special dear?”

I look over at the old lady again, and try my best to flash her a calm, professional smile.  It’s the one I show to terrified women and children out in the field, and I’m sure it’s working with her too.  “Family,” I nod.

“Well your wife must be excited to see you.  If you ask me, they keep you boys overseas for far too long.”

For a second I wonder how she can tell that I had a wife at all, but then I remember the gold ring on my left hand.  I haven’t taken it off, at all, since she passed away.  I’ve been too afraid that I’ll lose it or something.  Before, I would take it off all the time...at work, when I was overseas.  Sometimes I’d just forget to wear it, and Liv would be at the door when I got home from work, hands on her hips, scowling at me.

“You’re not supposed to forget this,” she would snap at me.  “Justin...”

“I’m sorry, baby.  You know I’d forget my head if it wasn’t for you.”

I’d take the ring from her, and slip it on my finger, causing her to smile.  She’d forgive me after that, always.

I never forget it anymore.  It’s the biggest part of her that I have left.  At home, in the bedroom, a box sits on the dresser with the engagement ring and wedding band that I gave to her five years ago.  I couldn’t bury her with them...couldn’t let that part of her go.  My mother in law told me that someday, if I get remarried and have a daughter I can pass them down.

But I’ll never do any of that.  I’m definitely done with finding somebody, because the only person I’ll ever be able to love, is Liv.

It was a beautiful day...that day.  A Saturday morning that I’d taken off from the dealership so we could find some paint for the nursery.  It was no secret to anybody in the family that we were trying for a baby.  Liv and I were so excited that we decided to start on the nursery before we even conceived, the idea of starting our family making us fall deeper in love with each other.  I remember...we went for coffee downtown that morning.  She had a...bagel, and I didn’t eat anything.  If I had known it would be the last time I would sit with her like that, I probably would have picked a different place, and talked about something a little more meaningful than paint chips.  

Then we went to the hardware store, and took some time picking out a neutral color, because we decided not to find out what we were having, if she were to get pregnant, until the baby came.  We found this simple light tan color, bought a few cans and carted them back to the house.

She went in, and I unloaded the cans of paint.

When I got inside, she was sprawled out on the floor.  I remember dropping the paint.  A can exploded open and spilled on the newly installed hardwood floor, but at the time, I couldn’t even focus on it.  I was too busy holding her in my arms, trying to shake her awake, but she wouldn’t wake.

She just wouldn’t.

They told me it was a brain aneurism.  Very sudden and without warning, it had taken her life.  It was just one of those things, they told me.  Something that they probably wouldn’t have been able to detect.  I tried to think, to remember if she told me she hadn’t been feeling well.  I couldn’t though.  I couldn’t remember her ever telling me, because if she had, I know I would have forced her to go to the doctor.

To this day, I’m still not sure if she kept it from me, because she was too stubborn to accept something might be wrong.

Now she’s gone though.  Gone, and it’s too late to help her.

I got called up for duty two weeks after she passed.  We had already buried her, and even though our families told me I shouldn’t go, I went anyway.  It was easier.  Easier to just...push the pain away and focus on what I had to do.

Going home, I know, is going to make it all rush back to me, and I don’t know if I can handle it.

The stewardess says the fasten seatbelt light has been turned on, and that we’re beginning our decent into Memphis.  I fasten myself into the seat and close my eyes, waiting for the plane to touch ground, knowing that when it does my life will start all over again, even if I don’t want it to.

“Mama.”

I look down when I feel Layla tugging on my dress, and flash her a small smile as I run my fingers through her golden blonde curls.  “Yes, baby.”

“When is daddy comin’?”

“In just a couple of minutes.”

She presses her lips together and her brow furrows.  “Does he have to go away again?”

I try to suppress the heavy sigh that’s fighting it’s way out of me.  “I...I don’t think so baby.”

“ ‘Cause he got hurted?”

I nod, and sniffle.

God.

My little girls eyes, the ones she got from Vance, widen.  “Is he hurted bad?”

I stroke her face gently, and glance at momma who seems to understand.

“Hey dumplin,” she smiles for us as she draws closer to where we’re standing.  “How ‘bout you help your Nan hold up this sign.  That way when daddy comes he’ll be able to see it real good, okay?”

“Kay.”

She leads her away and I’m more than relieved.  All morning long it’s been the same questions, and the same answers from me.  Now, at the airport, ten minutes away from seeing Vance again, I can’t take it anymore and I don’t want to loose it in front of Layla.  It’s a promise I made to Vance, in the very beginning.  We said, that no matter what happens, Layla wasn’t to know how bad it really was.  It’s better for her.  She’s just a child and doesn’t deserve to be depressed and miserable.

That’s my job, I guess.

I couldn’t sleep last night, kept thinking about what Vance would be like when they got him off the plane.  I’m sure he’ll be in a wheelchair, or perhaps a stretcher.  They haven’t told me, but I’m sure he wouldn’t be walking with that kind of an accident.  Maybe Justin shouldn’t have told me, maybe then I would have gotten some sleep, but then again...it’s better that I’m prepared for the shock.  Yes, it’s better all around, for me, and for Layla too.  

“You gonna be okay?”

I glance back at my sister.  She’s keeping that smile on her face for me, the one that tells me it’s going to be okay.  I wish she wouldn’t because...it’s not okay.  This is all going to be very hard, very trying on Vance.  I already know.  He’s used to being the one on top, the strong one, the supporter, and now with his son on the way, I know he’s been thinking about all the things they would do together.  Not that he doesn’t love Layla, that’s his little baby girl, but I know there’s just something about having a boy that has sparked a different kind of interest in my husband.

Now, that all might get put on hold, for a very long time.  

“I’ll be fine once he’s on the ground and I can be with him,” I tell her.  “I know he needs that.”

“He does, but I guess I’m just worried he’ll be stubborn like always, and not ask for help when he needs it.”

“That’s Vance,” I scoff.  “You know that.”

“I know.”  She rubs my shoulder, and I feel her back off.  She’s gotten the hint, that now isn’t the time to highlight my husbands bad habits.

Then the door opens, and I take in a long breath as people start to file into the terminal.  A cheer erupts from our group when Justin steps through the door, his army green duffle slung over his shoulder, clad head to toe in his usual camouflage uniform.  He smiles, and to everyone else he would seem happy to be home, but I know different.

I can see it in his eyes, how much he’s had force deep down inside of him to act this way.  It’s not fair, but then again, the last thing my family needs right now is more misery.  It’s supposed to be a happy day, and the fact that only one of our boys was injured is a great thing.

I guess I just wish they were both okay.

“Hey Tay.”

I’m the first person he comes up to once the family is done hugging and kissing him.  He has lipstick marks on his forehead and cheeks, mostly likely from momma, and I have to laugh at him slightly.  “Looks like they worked you over good.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything, just looks into my eyes.  His are pained, and empty, and I know...he’s far from okay, even if it doesn’t show physically.
“C’mere.”  He finally says, and drops his duffle so he can hold his arms out to me.

I accept the embrace, gratefully.  It feels good to be in his arms, to feel them securely around me again like so many times in my life.  “I’m glad you’re...okay,” I whimper it into his chest.  “I really am.”

He pulls back from me after a moment, and wipes a few stray tears off of my face.  “Yeah, I know you are.”  He leans down and kisses my cheek.  “They’re taking him off the plane.  Just...let him know that you’re here.”

“Oh...yeah...”

He walks off, without another word, but I know it’s for the best.  

It takes several more gut wrenching minutes before my husband finally makes his appearance.  I try not to gasp, but it’s extremely difficult.  He’s on a stretcher, being wheeled off the plane by two uniformed officers.  I go to him right away and when I reach his side, it’s only then that I realize he’s covered in bandages from head to toe.  Even his face, is covered.

Justin was right.

This is really bad.

“Taylor.”  

I hear his voice, gruff and weak.  After a moment a bandaged arm reaches up, and white fabric covered fingers wiggle themselves through mine.  I squeeze gently, and I can see his lips turn upwards slightly, as much as they can.  I look into his eyes.  They’re cloudy, sad, and pained.  “Hey...hey baby.”  I reach out and brush my hand against his bandaged face.  I even touch his nose and lips, since they’re the only parts that are fully exposed.  On his upper lip, I can see the beginnings of a horrific burn.  It’s left a trail, starting at the top part of the lip, leading underneath the layers of white bandages.

I can’t even imagine what’s happened, or what he’ll look like...

He’ll be unrecognizable once those come off.

I still love him.  Of course I still love him, but I know what this is going to do to him.  He was so proud, so handsome and now...now that’s all gone.  It’ll bring him down, but I know he can come back from it, no matter what’s...happened.

He has to come back from it, and I’ll do whatever I need to, to ensure that.

“I love you.”  I whisper it, and lean down, very gently pressing my lips to his exposed ones.  “It’ll be okay, baby.”

He doesn’t say anything and after a moment, his eyes close.  Then I’m asked to move aside, to follow them to the hospital, and I know that it’s all I can do.  My momma calls back to me, says she’ll take Layla with her so I can ‘get myself together’.

Great.

I begin to walk, very slowly, but I only get a few steps before I realize how far I’ve lagged behind all of them.  My legs feel like lead, and I know I’m having some kind of weird anxiety attack, and that’s bad...for the baby.  I have to stop, sit down, and catch my breath.  They all left me here, forgot about the pregnant girl, but then again...a lot is going on today.

“Want a lift?”

I look up, see him standing there, and rub my face harshly so the tears will disappear again.  It does no good.  I’m falling apart, pregnant and unsure about the status of my husband.  I don’t know what to do.  “I...”

“Shh.”  I feel an arm around me after a moment, and I’m sure he’s sat down next to me.  “Take your time, Taylor.”

I look up at him, and start to sob, and he quickly pulls me down so I can lean my head against his chest.

That’s what I need, a friend right now.  Not my family who’s been determined to make me forget about how bad this all really is.  Justin understands, because he’s been through something horrible too.  He knows I need to just take a breath, and collect myself before I have to face reality again.

And I’m more thankful for him than he knows.

I didn’t stay that long at the hospital, I guess because I’d been with Vance long enough and knew his family needed that time with him more than I did.  After a couple of hours I bid my goodbyes to my in-laws, and told them I would be by on the weekend for supper.  They were fine with that, told me to take care and get some rest, although my mother in law hesitated for a moment, gave me this look that asked ‘are you sure you’re okay?’

We haven’t talked about it...what happened to Liv.  It’s too painful for me, and I know she’s still not over it.  Her husband has a better grip on his emotions, but at the same time, he still has a business to run so he has to be that way.  Behind closed doors I’m sure it’s a different story.  Liv’s parents love their kids with every being in their body, more than I can say for my folks.  Kicked out of the house at eighteen I left the old neighborhood behind and joined the military.  A few months later I moved into a small apartment in downtown Memphis.  I made a couple of friends in basic training that offered to split rent with me, so it worked out.

One of those friends was Vance, who, coincidentally enough, was dating my best friend at the time.  I’d known Liv my whole life before that of course, we dated on and off again throughout middle school and high school but...something hit me when Vance started inviting me out for double dates with Taylor and Liv.

I got to know her all over again, the girl i’d always admired from afar when Taylor and I were playing in the backyard as kids, and the woman she had become.  I guess we just fell for each other..harder than we ever had before, and after a year, we got married.  

It seems like a lifetime ago, and I wish I could go back and relive it all again so I wouldn’t have to face what’s happening now.

I woke up this morning and I rolled over, smiling because I expected her to be there.  It was the first time I slept home, with her gone.  When I went to bed the night before, I stared at the empty spot, willing her to reappear for just a few minutes, give me some comfort.  She never did though.  I got up and took some NyQuil so I could pass out and forget.  It worked I guess, because when I woke up and realized she was still gone, I actually cried.

It was the first time I cried since I found her that day on the floor.  I didn’t cry at the funeral, or on the plane to Base.  After that there wasn’t any time, and I forced it all away.  But now there’s time.  Too much time, in fact, and I have to learn to live with this...being alone.

It scares me, because I realize I have no idea how to make it without her.  She did everything, cooked, cleaned, organized, and I just stood by and...and I loved her, and did whatever she asked me to.  I tried to think of her routine as I walked around the first floor of the house this morning.  I couldn’t stay upstairs...too many temptations.  I didn’t want to see or smell her clothes, or go into the half finished nursery.  As it is, our bedroom is still loaded up with the scent of her perfume.  At first it was comforting, but now it’s making me sick to my stomach.  

It’s Wednesday.  Grocery day.  She used to make a list, come up from behind me in the morning while I was eating breakfast, wrap her arms around my shoulders and ask me what I wanted from the store.  

I shake the memory away as I head into the kitchen.  I open the fridge...the freezer.  Nothing.  Nothing at all.  I've been living off take out and dinner at my in laws, but I have to start doing for myself.  What do I buy though? I can’t cook, this is a known fact.  When I was living with the guys I ate Ramen Noodles seven days a week.  It was only when Liv and I started dating again, that she started making me real dinners.  I’ve never gone back but I guess now...I’ll have to.  It’s either that or burn the house down, and I’d rather not destroy my home.

I hear Carl’s nails click clacking on the tile and I turn around and smile at him.  He barks a little, sits down and whimpers.  He’s waiting for his lunch, pissed because I wouldn’t get up to fix him his breakfast.  Damn spoiled dog...but Liv wouldn’t have it any other way.  “All right, all right.”  I go to the cabinet and open his dog food, preparing it just the way he likes it before planting it down on the floor for him.  He gobbles it up, and I put the plate in the sink.  “Daddy has to go to the store.”

More whimpering.

“I’ll be back buddy.”  I smirk, and pat his head, before grabbing my keys off the table and heading for the door.  He follows me, as he always used to when Liv and I would be on our way somewhere.  I wonder how he feels.  If he misses her as much as I do.

But he’s just a dog.

I arrive at the store twenty minutes later.  They’ve built up the shopping center since I left.  The Crown Grocery got a face lift and by the looks of it, an expansion.  Livy would be in her glory, while I know I’m just going to be lost in that huge store.  Frozen TV dinners.  Right.  Load up the cart with a bunch of those, cans of soda, chips, and some beer, and leave as fast as you can.  

I feel like I’m back there about to cross over into enemy lines, only this time, I’m sure I have no chance of being killed.  It sticks with me...that...everything, how it felt, how it smelled, what it sounded like.  How the fear could stick right to you, cling to you like some kind of virus, stay with you always, keep you awake in the night, taunt you with the sounds and horrors of war.  The screams of injured, insane men, the horrid cries of the family members of those killed in the Taliban raids.

I wish I could say none of it came home with me.  That I wasn’t a statistic, that I didn’t have to admit to myself that I came home from the war with a moderate to severe case of PTSD.

I wish I could, but I can’t, and even though I was told over and over again by my Sergeant to get some help as soon as I got home, I still haven’t.  I’m still so...lost I guess.  I’m not ready to talk to anybody.  I haven’t even faced Liv’s passing head on...accepted it.  It’s too much.

I’m alone in the battle.  She’s not here to comfort me, calm me down when I wake up in a cold sweat, terrified from a dream.  It’s just me, and an empty bed without her.

It’s only been a couple of weeks, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep going.  I have no idea.

Maybe I’ll sell the house, give Carl to Taylor and Vance, reenlist and make the military my career.  Maybe it’s the best thing I can do for myself, to forget about her, about us, and how much I miss her.  Otherwise, I might go insane before the end of the year and that just won’t do.

I do my best to push it all away as I venture deep into the grocery store.  Pushing the rickety shopping cart in front of me, I wander up and down the aisles aimlessly, racking my brain to remember the things that Liv used to buy.  But it’s like I’ve drawn a blank.  It’s the first things to go...the little things.  Even the sound of her voice is starting to become warped in my mind.  Her laughter.  It’s all fading away and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Are you turning back into a bachelor already?”

I look up, find that I’m in the cereal aisle, and then I notice who said it to me immediately.  Taylor is standing there, bracing her back with one hand to support the massive bump in the middle of her body that’s weighing her down.  I see Layla behind her, sitting in the cart, lollipop shoved in her face to keep her quiet. Taylor’s cart is filled with real things, real shopping...for a hungry family.  I see meat, cereal, pasta, sauce, mac and cheese, frozen vegetables, juice, but not much junk food at all.  I look down at my own cart.  Chips, beer, soda...I haven’t gotten to the frozen foods yet.  “I um...” I trail off and laugh a little.  “I’m trying not to.”

“I always knew that Liv was the cook,” she smiles as she comes over and peers into my cart.  “But you can’t live on chips and beer, J.”

I shrug.  “I’m about to hit the frozen food section.  Those Hungry Man dinners are pretty good, right?”

She sighs and narrows her eyes at me.  I know if it were anybody else, they’d just laugh and tell me good luck, but not her.  We’ve always been a little closer, I guess because when we were growing up, we were the very best of friends.  I always took a little flack from my classmates for admitting that my best friend in the world was a girl, but I never let it get to the point where I wouldn’t hang out with Taylor anymore.  Somehow, we always managed to stick together, at least...until I started taking her sister out in middle school.  We drifted slightly then.  I started hanging out with the boys and she formed her own circle of girlfriends.

Right now though, it’s like we’re right back where we started.  I haven’t seen her since the hospital, but she’s been calling almost every day, to check in on me.  Part of me knows it’s what Liv would have wanted, and since the two of them were so close, I know Taylor would do anything to honor her sister’s memory.

“If you want to eat a pound of salt, sure.”  She rolls her eyes, and sighs.  “Come on, follow me.  I’ll get you the right things, and damn it...you’re going to learn how to cook if it kills me.”

“Well I...”r32;r32;“Don’t even.” She narrows her eyes at me.

I see her then.  I see Olivia standing there, narrowing her eyes at me. For the first time I realize how much Taylor looks like her sister.  It literally paralyzes me for a few moments, my heart skips a beat, and I have to look away from her.

“Justin?”

“Coming.” I say it softly, and push the cart, following her as she waddles ahead of me.

“Vance is getting the bandages off his face Monday.”  Taylor says it softly when we stop in front of the selection of canned soups.  “They’ve been changing the dressings twice a week at the doctors office, and now they say he’s healed over enough to live without them, but I’ll have to apply some ointment to his face a few times a day.  I guess...I guess it’s better.  I know he’s uncomfortable that way.  He’ll barely let Layla see him how he is, and she keeps asking when she can see her daddy again.  I’ll be glad when we can just get back to...to normal.”

I look at her. She doesn’t believe it, that things will ever be normal again. She’s scared to see the devastation that the explosion caused.  I know Taylor realizes that she won’t recognize her husband once she sees his face again, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen.  If they’ll be able to work through the change.  She’s used to Vance one way, and Vance is used to appearing to her one way.  I know a lot of guys that have gone home with injuries and scars like that.  Most of the relationships don’t make it past another year, not unless there’s a lot of strong will and determination.  But I know Vance.  I know how much Taylor and the kids mean to him, and that he’d do anything for them.  Maybe they’ll beat the statistics.  I hope so, because there should only be one broken household allowed in this family, and I’ve already claimed that spot.  “How’s everything been...at the house?”

She shrugs.  “Pretty quiet.”  She picks up a can of soup, shows it to me, and I nod at the selection choice.  Then she drops it into my cart along with a few more of the same.  “He’s still in a lot of pain, and the medication makes him sleep for most of the day.  We’ve talked here and there, but mostly about the baby coming and Layla.  I don’t think...I don’t think he’s ready to talk about anything else.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Maybe you can come and see him. I think he needs a friend right now, and I know that...you understand most of the situation.  How about you come to the house for dinner tonight? I’m making a roast. The family is coming, but we’ll still have enough to feed an army.”

A home cooked meal is something I haven’t had in a very long time.  In Afghanistan, I was lucky if my dinner wasn’t coming out of a can every night of the week.  At the same time though, I know Vance.  He doesn’t want a pity party rained down on him.  None of us do.  He’s the type that needs to be alone with his thoughts, without me, even if I am one of his best friends.  But Taylor seems so desperate, it’s like she needs this, and since she’s about to have the baby any week now, I don’t want to let her down, make her more upset than I know she is.  I owe her that much.

It’s what Liv would have wanted me to do, too.

“Sure, Tay.” I force a small smile.  “Sounds good.”

The expression on her face is filled with more relief than she cares to admit.  I know that...that while she says it’s been pretty quiet at the house, I think there’s more to it than that.  I don’t think Vance has been handling this well at all, and it’s not fair that Taylor has to put up with everything by herself.  I casually drape an arm around her shoulders as she stands there, staring at the soup.  “If you need help, I’m here for you.  You know that right?  Don’t try to do everything by yourself.”

“I’ve been doing everything by myself for too long.” She sniffles and finally turns to face me, her eyes glossed over with the tears fighting to break free.  “I...I’m not really good at asking for help.”

I nod a little.  “That makes two of us, but I’m gonna take a step out in left field and ask you to keep me from getting a beer belly and burning my house down from attempting to cook.  Do you think you can?”

She laughs, forcing the tears to clear from her eyes, and I feel like I’ve done at least one thing right since I’ve been home.  

“I think so, Timberlake.”
*************
“Taylor!”

I helped Justin fill the rest of his shopping cart with things that would actually keep him healthy, and we made a pact.  I’ll go over to his house every Thursday night, and teach him how to cook something new so he can do it himself.  It really is sad, how he can barely function on his own.  I know Liv took care of him, of that bachelor that had lived his life on beer and Ramen Noodles before they started to get into a serious relationship . She really was the best cook out of all of us in the family.  Even better than momma at some things, and I can understand why Justin never felt the need to learn how to make anything on his own.

That’s how Liv was.  She loved to cook and keep her house, entertain her family, and bring out the laughter and goodness in everybody.

I wish I didn’t miss her so much, but I do, and I guess...looking out for Justin, in a way, is helping me keep her memory preserved.

“Taylor!  I need...I need to use the toilet!”

“I’ll be right there!”  I put the knife down on the cutting board, and wash my hands, drying them thoroughly before I rush out of the kitchen and down the hall.  We’ve converted Layla’s playroom into a temporary bedroom for Vance for the time being.  He can walk, but not very far.  Stairs are completely out too, until he can start physical therapy anyway.  He’s still recovering from his surgery, and he’s been laid up in bed all day, everyday, since then.  I know it’s driving him stir crazy.  Vance has always been about being active, going and doing, spending time with his daughter and with me.  Being forced to stay in bed has made him grumpy, and I guess...everything that happened has made him miserable.

He knows the worst part has yet to come, and so do I.

The bandages covering his head are a protective barrier.  He knows I can’t envision him...the new way, with them on.  When he goes for his bandage changing, he won’t let me go in the room with him.  I haven’t seen his face yet, even though it’s been a couple of weeks.  For now, all I can picture his Vance the way he left me, with that handsome strong expression, and killer smile.  It’s gone now.  We both know that, but neither one of us has attempted to talk about it, or admit that our lives will never be the same after Monday.  

Part of me, the worst part, wishes those bandages didn’t have to come off.

And that’s wrong.

I burst through the door, see him laying there, his face turned towards the window.  It’s a nice day.  The sun is shining, the sky is blue, the temperature is perfect.  I sent Layla to my sisters, because I didn’t have time to take her out to play, and she deserved better on such a beautiful day.  “Sorry baby,” I say, gently.  “I was just fixin’ supper.”

“I couldn’t hold it.” His voice comes softly after a moment.  “I tried.”

“It’s...it’s okay.” It’s not the first time, of course, but I know how humiliated he feels, even if I am his wife.  “I’ll get you a fresh...a fresh one.”

It’s better than saying diaper, because that’s what he’s using right now.  I walk swiftly over to the side of the room I keep all his supplies on.  The new changing table my momma gave me for the baby has been turned into a temporary supply station for Vance’s needs.  

“It’s number two.” His voice is softer this time, weaker.  

“Don’t worry about it.”  I grab a diaper, some wipes and gloves, before walking over to the bed.  “I’ll fix you up.”

He doesn’t say anything to me as I gently pull his boxer shorts down, and help him turn on his side.  He groans and whimpers in pain, and I do my best to soothe him, even though I can’t rub his back or any part of him.  The burns have taken up almost all of his body, and if I touch him the wrong way, he’ll be burdened with even more pain.  It’s killing us, not being able to touch like we’re used to.  They tell us that in a few months, Vance’s body will start producing enough scar tissue that he won’t feel as much pain, and eventually...he’ll be able to live his life as if he was never burned at all.  The only thing that he’ll have to live with is the scars, and according to the doctors, having them is better than being in pain.

But they’re not the ones who have to live with them.

“I’m taking it off.” I gently unfasten the diaper and carefully pull it off, tossing it into the step on trash can behind me.  It doesn’t make me gag or anything.  One thing I’m used to, is the smell of poop, and I’m an expert at changing diapers by this stage.  I clean him up with the wipes, and get a fresh diaper on him as quickly as I possibly can without hurting him.  “There.”  I slowly pull his boxer shorts back up, before gently returning him to his original position.  “All done.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares up at the ceiling.

“Vance.”

“I’ll be fine.”

It’s what he always says, and we both know by now how big of a lie that is.  “I um...invited everybody for supper.  Justin said he would drop by too.”

“Why’d you do that?”

I sigh.  “Because we need to start...living again, Vance.  Don’t you think? The baby is coming.  After that, people are going to be in and out all the time.  I’m going to...I’m going to need help between Layla and the baby.”

“I know that, but how can you be completely fine with spoon feeding me in front of your family?  I’m not ready for that step right now, and you know I can’t move my arms that well.  I don’t want to be dribbling food all down myself, either.”

“They know what’s going on, Vance.  They’re not going to think anything of it.”

“I’ll just eat when they leave,” he grumbles.
 
I know it’s hard on him, that I have to sit here every afternoon, every evening, feeding him like a baby.  Once, he pushed me away, told me to let him do it himself, and so I did.  I stood in the doorway while he attempted to put the food in his mouth.  In the end, most of his dinner was in his lap, or smeared all over his bandaged face.  He gave in, broke down and cried, realizing he needed me to do it.  Of course I was there for him, got him through the moment, and he’s let me feed him ever since.  But we haven’t had company since he got home.  I’ll bring Layla to my mothers or my sisters house, and he’ll stay here, asleep after I’ve given him an early dinner.  It’s the first time I’ve chosen to invite the family over, but I wanted to do it before the baby came so Vance could get used to it.  

It’s obvious that doing this tonight isn’t going to be as easy as I thought.  “Vance, baby...it’s the family.  You have to get used to having people here at the house.  I can give you dinner and they won’t...”

“Fuck Taylor! I said I don’t want them to see me like that!  I’ve lost everything else but I’m not going to lose my God damn pride along with it!”

He screams it at me, and I take a few steps backward, bracing my back as my body finally collides with the wall.  

It’s deathly quiet, for the longest time, and it takes everything in me not to start sobbing in front of him.

“I said I’ll eat later when they leave,” he reiterates.  “All right?  I’m...I’m sorry, Tay.”

“It’s okay.”

He looks out the window again, his chest rising and falling in a silent, but heavy sigh.  I can’t say anything else, I just walk out and close the door behind me.

And it’s only then, alone in the hallway, that I let myself cry.

“So Monday...we’ll start fresh, son.  I’ll take good care of you, pass you off some potential buyers to get you started.”

He slaps me on the back and gives me a hearty smile before walking back into the house, as if everything in the world is completely perfect because I’m going to be working for him again.  I admit, the dealership has probably suffered with me gone all this time.  I was their top seller.  They told me I could probably sell a tin can on wheels if I had to.  It’s not my passion...selling cars, but Liv’s daddy got me into the profession when my daddy kicked me out of the house, leaving me broke and struggling.  He taught me the secrets of the auto industry, built me up into a great salesman.  I bought the house with my commissions, our cars...everything.  The nursery was even being financed through that.  I was looking at expensive cribs and furniture sets rather than the bargain ones at Walmart.  Liv was so happy.

But now, I don’t even know what I’ll do with the extra money.  

I’m taking the job because I don’t want to drain my savings account.  I’m still not sure what I want to do, if I want to stay here, go back into the Army, or just move away and start a whole new life.  Either way, my finances need to be in order, so I’ll work for a few months, through the holidays, until I feel secure again.  I don’t think it’ll be so bad.  I like people, I’m good with people, and Liv’s daddy treats me like I’m his own son.  He always has, and I guess that’s why I felt so confident when I came to him, asking if I could marry his daughter.

Even now, I know he wouldn’t have wanted anybody else for Olivia.  It makes me feel slightly better, knowing that I’ll always be able to call Liv’s family my own, even if she’s gone.

The back door is pushed open forcefully, making a thick whapping sound as it collides with the house.  I see Vance immediately, slowly making his way outside, supported by the aid of his walker and one of Carols hands under each of his pits.  He doesn’t say a word, barely looks at me, but I can tell how foul of a mood he’s in.

He’s been this way since I got here a couple of hours ago...and I’m sure things have been much worse around here than Taylor let on to me at the grocery store. She’s been too busy to talk to me about the reality of the situation so far tonight, or really...notice anything that’s been going on in her house.  When I came in, we said hello, but Layla was clinging to the bottom of her dress and her hands were filled with two plates of unprepared food.  I offered to help, but she told me to go relax, as she always did back when Liv was alive, and Vance was his normal, healthy self.  Being back here felt...a little bit like before, kind of normal, except my wife was missing from the equation and my best friend had decided to hide out from his family and the rest of the world.

I can’t blame him though.  I was there and...he’s like this because I was stupid and didn’t make the right decision.  He was put in the line of fire because of me, and I still can’t forgive myself.

I’ll do anything to make this up to him, except, I don’t think there’s anything I can do, that’s good enough.

The door slams, my eyes close, and I remember.

I remember everything.

Bang

BOOM

“Get down! Now!”

“Sir...Sir!  What the hell is going on!”

“Just shut up, Gunderson, would you?  You’ll get us all killed.”

He stares at me, swallows hard, and then sinks back down into the trench we’ve dug out.  Our other comrade, Miller, is seated beside him, silently looking up at me for guidance.  He’s young.  Fresh out of high school.  He joined the military to pay for school, but he never counted on this.

I slowly peer over the edge of our little alcove to see how dire our situation is.  Communication has been down for about an hour, because those bullets hit my radio pack instead of me. Even trade I guess, but then again...I have no idea how we’re going to get word to Sarge, or get the hell out of here.

How the hell could I be so stupid?  Why the fuck didn’t I think? I should have radioed for assistance the minute I felt we were in danger.

Now we’re trapped.

More shots are fired off, and I make sure to prop my rifle on top of the sand, it’s mouth pointed towards whatever enemy is out there, my finger on the trigger, peering through the eyepiece, ready to defend us.  Out of the three of us, I’m the strongest...probably the only one that can walk us out of this, and hell...I’m nothing. I’m a Specialist.  A muscleman at that.  I’m good at intimidation but I’m not a fuckin’ leader.

Where the hell is Vance when I need him? He’s a muscleman too but he’s smarter than I am.  He’d think up something better to do besides sit in a sand dune and wait for the inevitable.

The gun fire rages on.  There are more booms and bangs in the distance.  Missiles, and I’m sure it won’t take too much longer before one is dropped right on top of us.

But then I see lights in the distance.  Humvee lights.  My first thought is that the Taliban has found out that we’re hiding here, and I tell my men to take cover, load their guns, and shut the hell up.  Then I hear shouts...shouts in American, and as those three men draw closer to us, I can tell that one of them is Vance.

I’ve never been more thankful for anything in my life.

“Got yourself into a fuckin’ mess, didn’t ya Timb?”

He holds his gloved hand out to me, and I smirk slightly as I inch up out of the hole and let him help me up.  “How’d you know?”

“I got a sixth sense for family,” he says quickly.  “Get the hell out of here would you?  Get to the Humvee with the others.  I’ll be right behind you.”

I stare at him.  “What...what about you?”

“I’m getting these two weaklings out of their hole.” He motions to my men who are still cowering from the gunfire in the distance.  “Just go.”

I nod, start walking with the aid of two other soldiers at my side.  They are shining their lights down on the sand as we carefully walk back towards the Humvee, checking for any signs of a booby trap.

And that’s when I hear it.  The biggest explosion I’ve ever heard since I’ve been in country.

“VANCE!”

“Little fresh air might do you some good.  Maybe it’ll get rid of that awful attitude of yours.”

My eyes snap open, and I do my best to calm my ragged breathing as I wipe the sweat from my brow.  Thankfully, neither Vance or Carol seem to have noticed.  She’s too busy helping him walk, and he’s too busy wallowing in his misery.

“Just sit yourself down, son,” Carol says sternly, as he looks back over his shoulder at her.

Vance grumbles something I can’t understand under his breath, as Carol helps him down into the wooden rocker next to mine.

Then she looks at me.  “Talk some sense into this one, would you darlin’?  He’s stubborn as a mule.”

I glance at Vance, my best friend, and I know that no matter what I say, it won’t change his train of thought.  She doesn’t understand that, because she’s not like us.  She doesn’t know what it was really like for him...for us, to survive something so catastrophic.  “Sure, Carol.”

She rubs my shoulder lightly.  “Supper’s on soon.  I’ll call you boys in, all right?”

I nod, and then she goes back inside without another word.  I glance at the doorway, and spot Layla standing there, staring back at her father curiously before her grandmother ushers her back inside the house.

Poor kid.  I doubt Vance has paid much, if any attention to her lately.  Not that it’s his fault.  I can understand why he wouldn’t want his daughter clinging to him at the moment.  It’s painful and well...I’m sure he hates the fact that she has to see him this way, his head, arms and legs wrapped up like he's some kind of mummy.

I know it’s going to be even worse when those bandages come off, though.

“Want a beer?”  I offer him one out of the six pack I’ve been keeping on the ground next to my rocker.  

He slowly looks over at me.  “Really?”

I shrug.  “Why not?”

He takes it quickly, like somebody might come out and steal it away otherwise, and I pop off the top for him with the opener attached to my car keys.

“Doctor says I shouldn’t.” He pours the liquid into his mouth, keeping the bottle steady between his two bandaged hands as he drinks.  “Says it might drive me into some kind of alcoholic depression.”  He’s silent for a moment, and then he starts to laugh.  “So I go to him...‘you don’t think I’m depressed?  I look like a fuckin’ science experiment’.  Then Taylor gets all... ‘you should listen to the doctor, baby.  He’s trying to help.‘  I’m telling you, it’s bullshit.  All of this.  I wish I could have stayed back in country, where everybody would leave me the hell alone.”

I don’t say anything.  I can’t, and I think that’s what he needs anyway.  Somebody who won’t bug the shit out of him while he’s...like this.

He drinks the beer down to the last drop, and then tosses the bottle down on the floor.  It doesn’t break, and neither one of us bothers to get up and retrieve it.  Eventually it rolls off the porch and down the steps, into a flowerbed next to the railing.  

“Thanks,” Vance finally says.

I nod.  “Figured somebody should come save you from the insanity.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” he grumbles.  “Just gonna be a bunch of bullshit around the dinner table, anyway.”

“It won’t be so bad.”

He scoffs.  “Justin, I can barely feed myself.  Taylor has to do it, and she’s insisting that I come to dinner, so everybody can see for themselves what my life has turned into.  She doesn’t care that it embarrasses me.”

“I don’t think that’s it.  I think...I think she just wants you to have more of a normal life right now, with the family.  You’ve got a baby on the way, and you need their support.  Taylor knows that and there’s nothing wrong with it.  They just want to help, Vance.  We all do.  You can talk to me...hell, you can talk to any of us.  We’re all here for you.”

“What...they get to you too?”

“Huh?”

“Taylor pulled you aside right? Told you to come here...talk to me.  Tell me that it’s okay, give me a fuckin’ shoulder to cry on...”

“I’m your best friend, man,” I sigh.  “I know what you’re going through.”

He leans back in the chair slowly, and I see him wince in pain.  He closes his eyes for a very long moment, lips scrunched together as he takes deep breaths in and out.  “No....” He pauses, and seems forced to catch his breath again.  “Nobody knows what this is like, and that includes you.”

I press my lips together, lean forward and rest my arms on the tops of my thighs while rubbing my hands together.  Really, what do I say to him?  He’s in this real deep now.  This mood has sunk into him, taken him over like a disease, and I have no idea if he’ll find a cure.  The worst is yet to come.  When Taylor sees his face again...when the family does, I don’t know what their reaction will be and neither does Vance.  I know that’s what scares him the most...that things might not last with Taylor, that his children might not get to have that family he always dreamed of and hoped for in the past.  

“Maybe I don’t...but I’m here for you, man.”

“Yeah.” He nods slowly.  “Just be glad it’s not you that stepped in that booby trap.  You can start over from here.”

I shake my head.  “I’m not any better off than you are.”

It’s silent for a long time.  He knows what I’m getting at, but he also knows how much I hate talking about Olivia when I don’t have to.  

“I know you miss ‘er.  Everybody misses ‘er, J.  But at least you have another shot at your life.  I’m just...done.”

“Boys!” Carol calls from inside the house.  “Come on in for supper!”

“We’ll be there in a minute!” I call back, before focusing on Vance again.  “You’re not done,” I tell him sternly.  “You’re stronger than that.”

“Just get me inside,” he grunts.  “C’mon, help me.”

I don’t argue, I just do as he’s asked.  I know if we traded places, I would be miserable too.  Maybe he’s right.  Maybe I don’t understand...maybe I can’t understand him or what’s running through his mind.  Maybe the best thing to do, is let him be, let him handle this in his own way and leave him the hell alone like he wants.  

I just can’t do it though.  Not when I feel so responsible for what happened to him.

I pull the walker in front of him, and walk around, helping him to stand up and steady himself on his feet.  Then I half carry him back to the doorway, the same way Carol did it before.  It takes a little longer than expected to get him back into the house.  Taylor’s daddy has to help get Vance’s walker up over the gap between the doorway and the porch, and it’s a slow, painstaking process to get his body to take that step up into the house.  He groans and cries out in pain as we move into the house, and I admit, I feel fucking horrible.  I want to take his pain away.  I want to have to live through it too, because...because I deserve it.  

But I can’t.

Somewhere between the dining room and the kitchen, I meet a set of eyes that I feel like I haven’t seen in forever.  It’s her eyes, her gaze into mine, and my heart stops as I guide Vance down into a wheelchair that Carol has pushed up to the table.  

Livy

It can’t be though.  I know it can’t be.

Then Taylor emerges from the gaggle of family members surrounding her, Layla still clinging to her skirt as she waddles forward.  She's trying to get to Vance as he continues to wail in pain from his journey from the back porch.  It was her all along, I realize.  Her eyes are Liv’s eyes, her smile too.

It’s not a good thing.  I can’t be looking at Taylor like that.  Not now, not ever.  That’s Vance’s property and...she and I have always been friends, nothing more.  

What’s more, she’s not Olivia, and she’ll never be.

“Vance...honey...”

“JUST GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Everybody gasps. Vance has shoved his wife away from him, in her attempt to soothe his pain.  He’s crying now, loudly, screaming in agony.  Something has to be wrong, I know it, I just don’t know what it is.  

Somewhere behind me, I can hear someone softly crying, and I know, without looking, that it has to be Taylor.

Things are bad.  So much worse than I thought.  But why wouldn’t I have expected this?

“Help me!” Vance screams.  “Please!  Please make it stop!”

“Carol call 911,” Taylor’s daddy finally says.  “Somethin’ ain’t right.”

She nods, puts a hand to her mouth and rushes away.

“You have to what?”

“I...I know this is a lot to take in, Mrs. Hoffstra.  But you remember in the beginning, we discussed this being a possibility, don’t you?”

I sniffle, and nod.

He sighs slightly.  “If we don’t do this, the infection will spread through his entire body and it will cause his organs to shut down.  It’s just too badly infected.  Originally we thought it would heal after the surgery and proper treatment, but it hasn’t improved enough, and it’s causing him a great deal of pain.  The limb is useless as it is right now, and it will only get worse in the coming weeks.  We don’t have a choice.”

I cover my mouth, and slowly plop down in a chair behind me, still gripping my daddy’s hand.  Vance’s right leg is infected.  There’s always been a concern from the beginning, but his surgeons were hopeful, told me they might be able to save it.  But now...now they say that it’s too far gone to save.  What didn’t I do? I followed all the instructions like they told me to, brought him to all his doctors appointments.  I was so careful.

But now this.

He’ll never be able to run around with his son, or Layla.  He’ll never be able to do all the things he dreamed of with our children. 

And I thought the bandages coming off was going to be the worst thing for us.

I just...I don’t know if he can handle this.

I don’t know if I can either.

“Mrs. Hoffstra we need to amputate the right leg if your husband has any hope of living a better life,” the doctor says firmly.  “Your husband has been briefed, and we’ve put him under.  He understands that there’s no other option.”

I nod slightly, not bothering to wipe away the tears running down my face.  “I...I understand...too.”

He nods at me, looks at my daddy briefly, and then retreats into the operating room.

I burst into tears.

“It’ll be all right, honey,” daddy whispers in my ear, as he rubs a soothing hand on my back.  “Don’t you worry about a thing.  Your momma and I will do whatever we have to, to get you and the children through this.  I promise.”

He means it, but at the same time, his promise brings me no comfort.  Things with Vance will go from bad to worse.  The mood swings, the pain, and his depression.  He won’t be my husband anymore, just a lump of a person, and I’m sure no matter what I do, he’ll make sure to shut me out, perhaps Layla too.

But I’m about to have a baby.  How can I deal with Vance’s issues and take care of a  newborn baby?  Layla too?

I already know the solution.  We’re going to have to move in with my parents, and that...that’s not something I ever thought would happen to our family.  Vance was always so strong, so responsible.  He even got laid off once, worked three part time jobs to make ends meet so I could continue to stay at home with Layla.

I miss that Vance.  I miss him more than anything else in this world, and it hurts so badly to know that I’ll never see him again. 

It’s like my husband is gone, and for the first time I can really feel it...the type of loss that Justin feels every single day now that Liv is gone.  For the first time in years, I can connect with him on the level we used to when we were kids.

I’d give anything, not to be able to do that.

Daddy stays by my side right through the surgery.  Eventually, momma comes with my sister and Layla, tries to stay strong for me, since daddy already filled her in by phone.  My sister sits by my side, allowing me lay my head on her shoulder as I hold my daughter in my lap.  All I can think about is what Liv would be doing if she was still with us.  I smile a little through my tears because I can see her standing in front of us, telling us to buck up because Vance needs us all to be strong, and support him as if he were perfectly fine.

I know I need to do that.  I need to do it for my husband’s sanity, but it’s so damn hard.

“Is he out of surgery?”

Justin is breathless, like he raced to get here. Things were so chaotic at the house when Vance had his breakdown, I didn’t even notice where Justin ended up.  I’m assuming he had to take a few minutes, settle himself down, because he was just as unprepared for all of this as we were.  That’s his best friend in there, and I know he feels guilty, probably guiltier now, even if he shouldn’t.  “A nurse said they’ve finished up,” I say gently, not picking my head up from Suzette’s shoulder.  “They’re going to move him into recovery after he wakes up from the anesthesia.”

He lets out a long breath, and takes a seat on the opposite side of me.  “You all right?”

I sniffle.  “I’ll be all right.”

“Uncle Justin,” Layla croaks. 

“Yeah, Princess.” He flashes her a kind smile and runs his hand over her hair and down her cheek. 

“Is daddy gone?”

“No, baby,” he whispers.  “He’s not gone.  He’s just hurt, but...you and I are gonna be like a team.  We’ll help him get better together, right?”

“I can help,” Layla whispers, and leans her head back against my chest.

“That’s my good girl,” Justin says, gently.

I smile at him.  He’s staying so calm right now, so strong for my daughter and I guess...for me too, while everybody else is miserable.  I couldn’t ask for a better friend, and...I don’t know how he’s doing it.  How he can hold his head high when he’s still dealing with his own pain.

But then again, this is just giving him another excuse to push his pain deep down inside of him.

That’s not good, either.

“Folks?”

I look up at once, and see the surgeon standing there, his expression tired and ragged from hours of surgery.

“Is he...is he okay?” I ask, immediately.

“The amputation was successful.  The anesthetic is wearing off, but he’s still very groggy.  We’ll move him into recovery, and let groups of you go in to see him for short periods of time.  He’ll be in shock for a while.  This recovery process takes longer, mentally, than most.  Physically though, there is no more risk involved.  His burns should heal over nicely.  Some have already transitioned.  We were actually able to remove the facial bandages, which I’m sure will make your husband much more comfortable, Mrs. Hoffstra.”

God.  Today?

“Oh...”

“He’s asked to see you first,” the surgeon tells me.  “I’ll have a nurse come and take your group up to recovery shortly, and then you can see your husband.”

“Thank you.”  My daddy takes charge, goes up to the man and gives him a firm handshake.  “The family and I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for us, and for Vance.”

The doctor nods, smiles slightly, and then they start a murmured conversation that I don’t even bother trying to hear.  It’s not important.  Nothing is anymore.

“It won’t be so bad,” Justin speaks up finally.  “You’ll just have to get used to...seeing him a different way.  It’ll still be Vance inside.”

I just nod, try to smile, maintain my positivity.  At least Vance is still here, unlike my sister.  I should be thankful.

But I’m so scared.

We sit there for a while more, and then a nurse comes down to escort us all to recovery.  Daddy helps me waddle my way to the elevator, and supports me on the way up, not letting go of my hand until we reach the waiting area.  Vance’s surgeon is already there, waiting on us, and I know I won’t have another chance to sit down again until I’m right there at Vance’s side.

“He’ll see you now, Taylor,” the surgeon tells me, softly.

“Go on baby.” Daddy gives my hand a final squeeze and kisses my cheek.  “We’ll be waiting right here for you.”

I force a smile, and then my gaze lands on Justin.  He’s sitting there, Layla on his lap now instead of my sister’s, whispering to her softly as she leans her head against his chest.  He meets my gaze after a moment, and smirks gently at me, his eyes telling me to be strong, and stick by Vance at all costs.

I decide to suck it up, forget about what my husband will look like when I enter that room. It’s still Vance, I keep telling myself.  It’s still Vance.

I follow the nurse down the hallway, and suck in a small breath when we stop in front of a door.  She opens it for me silently, and when I step through the doorway, she closes it just as quickly.  I stand there for several minutes, just staring at him, at the remains of my husband.  Right now, he’s sleeping, and it gives me a chance to take a good look at the new face he’s been given.  The skin has been pulled in every direction, in an attempt to salvage some of his facial features.  It’s like...patchwork.  Like somebody ripped his face apart and stitched it all back together again, only...it didn’t come out right. The tip of his nose is gone, making it look strangely elf like.  One of his ears his half gone, and the other one is missing completely, leaving a hole in the side of his head.  Vance is unrecognizable, alien-like with his stretched pink skin, and I cover my mouth with my hand, forcing back a sob.  Then his eyes crack open, and when he smiles, it’s all crooked.  Part of his lips curve upward and the other half droops down, causing a sliver of drool to come drifting down his chin, which he manages to wipe away.

“How’s Lay?” His voice is gruff and weak when he says the words to me, and he’s looking me right in the eyes, like he wants more than anything to be normal for me again. 

But we both know that’s impossible.

“She’s...fine.  She’s with Justin.”

He nods slightly, and let’s out a small sigh.  “I’m sorry about all of this, baby.”

“You shouldn’t be.  Things will get better now that...they operated.”

“Pull up a chair,” he says, passing right over the subject.  “Come sit by me.”

I do it without hesitation, and slowly lower my awkwardly shaped body down into the chair once I position it by the bed.  Vance immediately holds his hand out to me, and when I look down to take it, I find that his inner palm is probably the only part of his body that wasn’t burned.  I see that clear, smooth skin that I loved to touch before all of this happened, and I grasp onto it, hold on for dear life because I don’t want to lose that part of him...the one I fell in love with. 

“Look at me.”

It takes me a minute, and I hate that. 

“Taylor if...if this isn’t going to work out, I want you to tell me now.  I’m prepared for it.  I think I’ve been prepared for it since I woke up in the hospital after the explosion.  But I can’t...I can’t sit around wondering if you’re still in love with me. If you can still be in love with me...this way.”

I gasp, and my hands fall down onto my baby bump.  At this point, I couldn’t imagine a life without Vance, even if all of this happened to him.  I know I still love him, but at the same time, things are only going to get harder from here on out.  “Of course I love you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“We’re having a baby in a few weeks,” I say.  “It has to work out.  There’s no other choice.”

He stares into my eyes.  His are glossy, filled with tears, and I know he’s holding a lot back for my sake.  “Kiss me.”

I just stare at him.

“Please, Taylor,” he whimpers.  “I...I need that from you.  I need to know that I’m still alive under all this.”

I lean in slowly, not sure what to expect when my lips meet his.  We haven’t kissed at all since he came home, and honestly, I didn’t think he’d want to be this close to me ever again.  It should make me feel good, but when my lips brush against his, I feel like I’m kissing a stranger.  The texture of the skin on his face isn’t stubbly with that subtle softness anymore.  Instead, it’s a strange mixture of waxy and rough, and I find myself breaking our kiss almost as quickly as it began.

Vance just stares at me.  He knows.  He knows that it will never be the same again. 

“What was that?” He croaks.

I lean back in the chair and rub my belly as I look down at the floor.  “I’m not sure.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“It’s not really the time or the place, Vance.”

“If I didn’t look like this, would it be the time and place?”

“Vance look, that’s not...”

“So you could live with me only having one leg, being wheelchair bound and all that.  But you can’t stand the fact that you have to look at my mangled face everyday, is that it?”

“No...” I shake my head roughly, and my lips tremble as I try not to cry.  “Vance, no...”

“It’s the truth.  You just can’t admit it.  My face freaks you out...it’s gonna freak out the kid, and I can’t even imagine what I’ll look like to a little baby.  Besides, how the hell can our son look to me as a role model, when I can’t even get to the bathroom on my own?”

Silence.

“I’ll call a lawyer in a couple of days.  It shouldn’t take long to draw up divorce papers.  You and the kids will be fine at your parents.  I’ll get something worked out...assisted living.  The VA can get me set up.”r32;
“I didn’t say anything about getting a divorce,” I grunt.  “Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“You didn’t have to say it,” he says sadly.  “It’s easier this way, for everybody.”

“Baby,” I sob.  “Please.  I...I don’t want this.  I need you and...Layla and Oliver are going to need you too.”

“Need what?” 

“Their father.”

“I’m a joke of a father now.  That’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“That’s not true..”

“Just...just go, all right?” He turns his head away from me.  “Please.”

“Vance.”

“I’m not going to say it again, Taylor.”

I don’t know what else to do, but what he’s asked of me.  I do my best not to cry, but naturally it doesn’t work out that way.  I’m weak, barely holding it together, and I burst into tears once I’m out in the hallway.  My father consoles me for a few moments, before handing me off to my sister so he and my mother can go in and visit with Vance too.

“He wants a divorce,” I whimper into her shoulder.  “Suze...”

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” she sighs, and rubs my back in a circular motion.  “Just give him time, Tay.  He’ll come around once he realizes you aren’t going anywhere.”

I just sob.

“You still love him...don’t you?”

I can’t answer her.  Can’t say anything because I’m so damn confused.  I guess Vance has a point.  I need to think about this.  Think about what life will be like with him now.  He’s not the same person underneath the mess on the outside.  He’s depressed, nervous, cautious and afraid.  With two children to raise, how can we make it work? I would hate to fight with him every single day but...but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him anymore.  “I love him but...he’s just...”

“It’s a difficult situation, that’s all.”

“Right.”

She doesn’t want me to say it, that I blame him.  That the way he feels is his fault.  Of course it’s not.  He didn’t blow himself up, and he has a right to feel the way he’s feeling.

But it’s leaving me so lost and confused, and I just...I just have no idea how I’m supposed to hold this family together all by myself.

“Tay.”

I look up at him as I continue to cling to my sister for support.  His eyes meet mine and I can feel the pain inside of him, because it’s the same pain I have. 

“Your momma wanted me to bring you back to the house for awhile.  We can go to my place.  It's quiet there."

He extends his hand out to me and all I can do is stare at it.  I feel too weak to go anywhere or do anything.

"Go on," Suzette nudges me.  "Take some time for yourself.  You need to get some rest and clear your head for that little girl."

I know she has a point.  I need to get myself together and be there for Layla because for the moment...I'm basically the only parent she's got.

"C'mon," Justin says, offering me a comforting smile. 

I take his hand and he reassures Suzette that he'll bring me home in the morning.  He helps me walk out of the hospital and to his car, a black Dodge Charger that he bought before he married my sister.  It's so familiar and reminds me so much of Liv that I temporarily forget about Vance.  She loved that car, loved the way it made her feel when Justin would drive her around in it.

I'm surprised he got up the courage to drive it.  It's been a long time.  Then again, I'm sure driving Liv's car would make things even worse for him.

"Got that?" He laughs slightly as he watches me struggling with my seatbelt.

I give up and let out a frustrated sigh.  "No."

"Here."  He leans over me carefully, trying his best not to put pressure on my bump as he grabs my seatbelt and gets it on me.

"Thanks."

"Sure."

The car rumbles to life moments later, and then, finally, I'm away from that place.

Away from Vance.

"You wanna talk?"  He lowers the radio as he says it.

I barely look at him.  "We don't have to."  I suck in a breath, willing my emotions away.  I just...don't want to be a mess in front of him.  Sure, he's a friend, but he has his own issues.

"He must have said something."

"They had to take his leg."

Justin nods slightly.  "We knew they might have to."

"Yeah but...but I guess when I saw his face...I was shocked.  I  didn't know how to react, and I should have.  He could sense how I felt and I know it made him upset.  Ill just...have to work through it."

"I know you and Layla are the most important things to him.  Before the accident...you're all I ever heard about, and the new baby too.  I know he still loves you, Tay.  He's just going through something."

"I want to help him."  My voice trembles and I try to hold back my tears but I just can't do it.  "But he told me he...he wants a divorce.  He says that he's a joke and me and the kids will be better off without him."

"He said that?"

I just sob.

He pats my leg. "I'll talk to him."

"It's too late for that.  He's just...gone, Justin."

"You don't know what being gone really means, Taylor.  If...if it were Liv, and she had to live like Vance for the rest of her life, I'd be willing to make it work.  I'd give anything for that chance, you know?"

I nod and look down at my lap.  "I know you would."

"Everything will work out," he promises me.  "You'll see.  When the baby comes...he'll start to think a lot differently.  It's just what he needs to get his mind off all this."

I don't say anything because I don't want to put a damper on his mood.  He's really trying right now, pushing all of his pain aside not just for Vance, but for me and the kids too.  I couldn't ask for a better person to be by my side.

I just hope he's right.
******************
I was running through the desert in the dream, trying to grab a hold of Vance's arm before he could step on that booby trap. The closer I got though, the farther away he seemed to be.

When the explosion went off, I woke up drenched in sweat and trembling with fear.  I sobbed, but only for a moment before I reached out for her hand.

But she wasn't there.

I've been having the dreams since the first time I killed someone in Country.  When I came back from that first tour, Liv made me go to a shrink for them, but it didn't seem to help.  The pills helped me sleep better but I still had the dreams.  She would be there for me when they happened, always holding me close, telling me it was okay, and I would fall back to sleep in her arms.

Now they're worse than they've ever been, and fate has left me alone to deal with the problem.

I don't know how to fix it, because she always fixed it for me.

I'm scared of what's going to happen.

It took me hours but I finally managed to calm Taylor down enough that she was able to get some sleep last night.  I put her up in my bedroom.  I haven't been sleeping in there lately...too many memories, too many dreams about Liv being there in bed next to me.  The couch is fine for now and Carl doesn't seem to mind.

I've been considering my options since I've been home.  I might sell.  The house is too big for me...too much work, too many memories.  I turn the corner sometimes, too many corners, expecting her to be there, but she's never going to be there.

Hard as it is, I know the time has come for me to start moving on, moving past Liv.  Ill have to start going through her stuff, maybe next week once everything with Vance is a little better again. As long as the focus is taken off of me I think I can handle it.  I just...need to be alone while I sort through her things...the memories of her.  I gotta figure out what I want to keep, what I want to give back to the family, and what I want to donate.  Once I'm through, once the house is mostly Liv free, I think I'll be able to breathe easier, sleep better.

At least...I hope I'll be able to.

I feel like I'm trying to push her away, out of my life and my memories.  It's horrible, but it hurts so bad inside...missing her and hiding how I feel from everyone.  I can't do it anymore.  I don't think Liv would want me to.

"Morning."

She caught me off guard.  My eyes are watering and I'm only noticing now so I quickly wipe at them before I turn to face her.  Taylor is standing there in one of my old army tee shirts, smiling tiredly.

I blink and its Liv, not Taylor.

"Are...are you ok Justin?"

I blink again and Taylor comes back. I laugh it off.

It's scaring me.  Every time I see her she looks more and more like my wife.

But she's not my wife.

"I'm okay," I manage.  "How'd you sleep?"

She half shrugs. "Okay."

"You going back to the hospital today?"

"I'm not so sure...maybe.  I just wanted to relax for the time being.  Yesterday wiped me out and this baby isn't very happy with me.  I think Vance needs a day to sort out things too."

"Right...well um, are you hungry? I can...pour us some cereal."  I feel my cheeks turn red. With all the commotion Taylor probably won't be giving me that cooking class for quite some time, and I'm completely clueless.

"Don't be silly.  Ill fix something."  She rolls her eyes, but for the first time in days that genuine smile of hers shows itself to me.  I love that smile.

Liv had that smile too.

"Come on.  Watch and learn."

I stand by her side as she attempts to show me the correct way to make pancakes and grits from scratch.  I do my best to follow along with all the stirring and egg cracking, heating and flipping.  By the time we're through her plate is full of a breakfast Liv would have been proud to serve me, and mine is full of crumbled half cooked pancakes and burnt grits.

"Looks like I failed," I sigh as she takes my plate and scrapes the food into the trash.  "I'm useless."

"You're not useless."  She plants her full plate of food on the kitchen table and slides out a chair.  "You just need more practice.  Now sit down and eat."

I shake my head but when she narrows her eyes at me, I do as I'm told.  Fayleen women are stubborn to the core, and I know from experience that saying no to one them is never an option.  "What about you, Tay?"

"I can fix myself another plate," she smirks. "Just eat."

She loves to cook, just like Liv did.  Pregnant and all she's still ready to entertain family.  I don't hesitate, I just dig in.  The taste of the grits forces me to close my eyes and savor the flavor.  It's been too long since I've had Liv's grits.  "This is the way Liv made her grits."

"It's the way our momma makes her grits." She laughs as she finishes her batch of food and is able to join me at the table.  "Who do you think we learned from?"

I shrug.

It's silent for a long time.

"How are you doing with everything?"

I look up at her after a few painstaking minutes.  I haven't really talked about it.  Not yet, and I still feel like its too soon.  "I'll be all right."

"Have you um..."  She hesitates, looks down at her plate and pushes the food around for a minute.  "Have you thought about going through...her things?"

"Sort of.  I've been thinking about a lot of things, that included.  I might sell this place."

Her expression falls.  "Sell?"

"Yeah.  I mean, it's a little big for just me and Carl.  I'd be better off with a condo or something."

"But you....you worked so hard for the house. Liv did too."

I sigh.  "I had a reason to then.  Now it's just getting to be too much for me."

She doesn't say anything but she gives me this look like she knows I'm full of it.  Like she knows  the only reason I want to sell is so I can run and hide from the memories of my wife.

"Justin you don't have to hide the fact that you miss her."

"Who said I'm hiding it? You know I miss her."

"You don't talk about her."

"You don't either."

"Not around you, but around my family I do.  You haven't been here, but we've been trying to talk about her as much as we can. It helps to cope...remembering her."

"What's there to say?"  I shake my head roughly.  "She's dead."

"Yeah, and I know that it's killing you.  You were barely there at the funeral and then you left for Afghanistan.  You haven't even tried to cope with it head on yet have you?"

I drop my fork and it clatters onto my plate.  I find that I'm glaring at her, and I hate that, but this is the only way I know how to handle the situation without losing it.

After all this time, I still haven't cried.  I refuse to do it, because then I'll remember every single thing I ever loved about Olivia Fayleen, and I can't.  I can't mix those emotions and memories  with the horrible ones I deal with every night.

Ill crack.  I will, and I can't afford to because its just me now. Vance is barely there and I have no one else to lean on because Taylor is caught up in her own problems.

"Justin..."

"Look, thanks...for breakfast."  I get up, push my emotions back where they belong and pick up my plate so I can drop it in the sink.  "I'm really sorry about what's going on with Vance too.  I meant what I said...Ill talk to him about all of this, talk some sense into him. Let me get you home though, okay?  Your mom..."

"I can't believe you," she cuts me off and sends me a dark look of her own.  "You loved Liv.  You knew her better than anybody and now you just....want to forget."

"I'm not forgetting anything.  You think it's so easy...damn it..."  I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to get it together.  "I'm not doing this right now, okay?"

"Then when?"

I don't answer.

"You haven't even been back to the grave, have you?"

"Drop it, Taylor."

"But you..."

"I said drop it!" 

She whimpers slightly, pushes herself up from the chair and backs away from me.

"God...Taylor look..."

"I'm going to change," she says it quickly and starts making her way out of the kitchen.  "I'll call Suzette and have her come pick me up."

"I can bring you...."  I walk up behind her.  "Taylor I'm sorry."

"I'll call Suzette."

She walks away from me, and I can hear her sobbing.

Shit.

I plop down at the table and hold my head in my hands, close my eyes and try to make everything okay again, like it was before Vance stepped in that booby trap, like it was before my wife was gone.

I feel her hands on my shoulders, smell her perfume, feel her tender lips on the back of my neck.  It's incredible,like she's really there.  I pick my head up and look over my shoulder.  "Livvy."

But there's only a silent, empty kitchen, and I know the reality...

I'm alone.