“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.
Author's Chapter Notes:
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