The chaplain, by comparison, lounged back in his chair with ease, as if the world wasn’t tipping on its axis, as if things weren’t starting to go ass-backwards.
“You’ll need to elaborate, Robertson.” With a wry grin, he pointed to the couch with one finger. “And sit down before you wear a hole in my carpet.”
He sat, letting his boots thud gracelessly out in front of him on the floor. Stared intently on the dog tag laced in next to the tongue of one boot. If he focused on one spot, then he didn’t feel so off balance. Like those teacup things at the Disney park. Keep your eyes focused and maintain a semblance of balance.
“Start over. What’s too easy?”
“Life. Things.” He tossed his hands up in the air. “Her.”
“Ah.” Like a wise man who just discovered the secret to life, he gave a secret smile and walked around from behind his desk to the armchair across from the couch. “So it’s the woman.”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” Dwayne squeezed the back of his neck to relieve the tension. “I keep expecting more episodes. I’m on guard for them. But nothing’s happening. The nightmares are slowing down, only mild when they even happen. I haven’t spazzed recently or scared the shit out of anyone.”
“And this is a bad thing?”
“Yes!” He jumped up only to sit back down again when he got the stink eye. “It’s exhausting, always being on guard. Always waiting. Staying vigilant.”
The chaplain nodded, but stayed silent.
“Okay yeah, and it’s her too. Veronica.” Just saying her name brought a sense of calm to his heart rate. It slowed, coming closer to a more normal beat. “It’s just… smooth sailing. Nothing wrong. She’s easygoing, she’s sweet. She just sort of slipped into my life at the right time, giving me exactly what I need. Helping me…”
No, that was stupid.
“Helping you what?”
Well, confidentiality and all that. “Helping me heal,” he mumbled.
“Sounds pretty well like a good deal to me. What’s the problem?”
Dwayne stared at the man. Had he been talking to air the last ten minutes? “It’s too good.”
The chaplain tossed the pen he’d been holding onto his desk and stretched his back. “The whole ‘too good to be true’ theory at work, am I right?”
“There’s truth to the theory.”
“So who burned you before?”
Dwayne’s mood, so light from just thinking of Veronica, darkened. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does. Clearly. Otherwise, the baggage wouldn’t be sniffing around for a fault in the relationship like a bloodhound on the trail. Something has told you in the past that good is never right. Who.”
It wasn’t a question. Dwayne could kiss lunch good-bye. He wouldn’t be going anywhere. Settling down in the couch cushions, he got comfortable. “Blair. Her name was Blair.”
Silence.
“She and I dated while I was stationed in North Carolina. She hung out at the same sports bar I did.”
Glancing up to see if he was about to get off the hook, he wasn’t surprised when the chaplain sat with stoic patience, waiting for him to continue. With a sigh, he did.
“We dated, we got serious. I was getting closer to a PCS, and I didn’t know how the relationship would hold up over long distance. I didn’t know where I was headed yet, but I knew I’d be moving out of the area, likely to California.” He spread his hands in a
and
here
I
am
gesture. “But I wasn’t anywhere near ready to ask her to move with me across the country. Not when her entire family lived on the east coast. And so I started to resign myself to losing a good relationship, mostly due to timing.”
“But?”
Damn the perceptive man. Wait, was that some extra sin, damning a man of God? He’d look it up later. “Then she found out she was pregnant.”
He scoffed. “A baby has a way of tightening things up pretty damn fast. Went out and got a ring the next day.”
“It didn’t occur to you to wait? People have children out of wedlock often these days.”
Dwayne looked up, surprised to hear the chaplain’s thoughts. He smiled and spread his hands. “It might not be God’s favorite thing, but it doesn’t make it less than the truth. I might be a man of the Word… doesn’t make me blind to the way things work.”
Nice. A chaplain with an understanding. Nevertheless, Dwayne shook his head. “Not for me. My mom raised me alone, no dad in sight. I couldn’t tell you his last name. Never even listed on the birth certificate.”
“You don’t have to be married to claim responsibility.”
“I was going to. We were serious, and at the time the only thing stopping us from continuing on was the distance. Once I would be transferred to a new base—”
“Inevitable,” the chaplain put in.
“It is. And then I could be across the country from her. But with a baby on the way, marriage was the right thing to do. I wanted to be with that kid. Every night that I could.” He stared hard at the chaplain. “We’re gone enough as it is in this business. When my boots are on U.S. soil, I want to tuck my kids in at night.”
“Commendable.” He waved a hand as a sort of white flag. “Continue.”
“We were both happy. Excited even. Her mom started planning a small wedding for the next month. And I knew I could easily spend the rest of my life with her, our baby, any other kids that came along. Setting up a good life. Then I surprised her one day, took the day off work to bring her to the doctor for one of those monthly checkups.”
He shook his head and stared at the purple-gray carpet between his boots. “Take her to the doctor,” he said more softly, scoffing. “She didn’t have an appointment that day. Or any other day. She wasn’t pregnant. Never had been. Oh, first she tried to play it off, layering lie after lie, trying to make me think she’d lost the baby and was scared to tell me and she didn’t want to ruin the wedding with the news. When that didn’t hold water, she tried that she’d only been confused, truly thought she was pregnant, but she was wrong. And how sad that made her, that she wanted to try again for a baby, soon as we were married.”
“Did you believe her?”
“I wanted to. Christ, I wanted to.” He gripped his temples with his thumb and forefinger, squeezed his eyes shut. “But slow country boy that I am, even I knew that nothing added up. She finally gave up, got tired keeping track of the lie, admitted it all.”
Nothing but the quiet hum of the ceiling fan greeted him.
“She saw the writing on the wall. Knew I’d leave and we’d drift apart and that’d be the end. Coming from less than nothing, from a trailer park in the middle of nowhere with barely a high school diploma to her name, I was a catch. I was security. Wanted to shore up a nice guy with a steady paycheck and good health insurance. I’m guessing the fact that I’d regularly be out of the country for seven months of the year was pretty attractive too. I could have been any dumbass in cammies. Didn’t matter who I was. I was just the lucky SOB that she ran into first.”
“That’s a little harsh on yourself, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t. I should have seen it coming. It was right there in my face the whole time, and I was blind to it. The only good thing that happened was there was never a kid involved. She could have gone all the way and actually gotten pregnant, though I’m not sure how. I’m just glad it was a hoax rather than the real deal.”
The chaplain said nothing, and Dwayne felt too empty to go on. There was nothing left. He’d spilled it all out, laid it at the other man’s feet. The embarrassment, the shame, the absolute terror of not being sure he could trust his own judgment again.
“And so, because of this Blair, you think Veronica is the same?”
“Veronica is nothing like her.” The words were too fierce, even he knew it from some impartial part of his own brain. More calmly, he added, “It’s not her. It’s me. I just need to figure out why my brain can’t let go. Can’t accept that things aren’t always just waiting to fall apart. That the other boot isn’t always hovering, waiting to drop.”
“What would happen?”
He stared at the man, eyes gritty now from squeezing them too tight.
The chaplain stood and started back around his desk to sit. “What would happen if the other shoe does drop? Maybe you relapse and have another panic episode. Or Veronica turns out to be not the right woman for you, for any number of reasons. Then what?”
Dwayne flopped back once more and stared at the ceiling. “Then, I dunno. I deal with it.”
“Can you? Are you able to handle that load?”
“Yeah.” He said it with confidence, even arrogance, before he could think. But it was true. He wasn’t some pissant weakling who waited around for things to go ass up. If shit hit the fan, he’d weather it and push through as hard and as fast as he could. It’s what he would do in his job, and it’s what he would do in life.
The chaplain smiled at him, almost like a proud teacher to the star pupil. Proud as can be. “I thought so.” And with that, he picked up his pen and started writing, as if Dwayne wasn’t still sitting on his couch, having an internal crisis.
But there was no crisis. It was all a reaction to the situation that he needed to get a grip on. The chaplain was right. No matter what, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
As he shut the office door behind him on the way out, he wondered if he’d earned a gold star for the day.
***
Madison flopped down in the armchair in Skye and Tim’s living room. “That was absolutely unnecessary, not to mention awful.”
Having had a rare day off together, Veronica had come over to hang out and wait for Madison to end her shift in the ER.
“What was unnecessary?” Skye asked from the ground, her feet propped up on the arm of the sofa.
“That entire rotation in the ER. Thank God today was my last day. I have to say, emergency medicine was never my thing.” She visibly shuddered and threw an arm over her eyes. “Too much drama.”
“Too much drama in the trauma… unit?” Veronica said, deadpan. Then when both women stared at her, she laughed. “Okay, that was bad.”
“Very,” Skye agreed. “But yay for finishing a bad rotation! We should celebrate, if you’re up to it.”
“Anything celebrating the fact that I won’t have to see the inside of the ER for a few months is worth losing sleep over. Plus I’ve got three days straight off, so I’m good to go.”
They laid around for a minute, enjoying the simple pleasure of company and letting the air conditioning cool them on the hot afternoon.
“Dwayne?”
Veronica tilted her head to look at her cousin. “What about Dwayne?”
“How are things going with him?” Skye asked, her tone implying that it should have been obvious, so why did she have to spell it out.
“Ah.” She let her head fall back to the cushion. How to answer that one…“Things are going… well.”
“Since you barely sleep at home anymore, I think things are going better than well,” Madison teased.
Veronica threw a pillow at her. “I’m sorry, I thought you enjoyed the privacy with Jeremy. If you want, we can go back to me sleeping at the apartment and you bunking at his place. What was it you referred to his apartment as again? The gateway to hell?”
Madison shuddered and stuffed the pillow under her legs. “I apologize. Really, sincerely. Don’t kick me out. I can’t sleep over there.”
“Back to the topic. So you two are…” Skye waved a hand in the air.
“What she means to say is, so you two are doing the humpty-hump?”
“Madison!” Veronica covered her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle the laughter. “What a lovely image.”
“You’re telling me,” Madison agreed. “So?”
“We enjoy spending time together.” There. That was as close as they were going to get.
“Riiight. I’m assuming a good chunk of that time is horizontal.”
“Madison.”
“Just saying. I love him like a brother, but I’m not oblivious to the charm and attractiveness of Dwayne Robertson.”
Skye sat up and gave her a good long look. “Are you happy?”
“Oh, yes.” That didn’t require any thought at all. Her life was right where she’d always hoped it would be, and where she’d thought for so long she’d never get to.
“Hmm. Well, this is lovely and mushy and all, but back to me.” Madison tossed the pillow back at her and she let it hit her chest before wrapping an arm around it. “How will we celebrate this lovely occasion of me being out of the ER?”
They were silent for a moment, the only sound a lawnmower a few houses down.
“Shopping?” Skye asked, almost hopefully.
More silence, then Madison said, “I could go for that.”
Veronica bit her lip. Buying more things wasn’t really an option. But the thought of spending the day with her friends, that was more appealing. “There’s an outlet mall about an hour north of here. Maybe since we all have the whole day off, we could—”
“Sold!” Skye jumped up and pumped her fist in the air. Pointing a finger at Madison, she said, “You go change out of those scrubs, meet us back here at oh-whatever-hundred.”
Madison laughed. “A year with my brother and you still don’t know military time?”
“I’m
incorrigible
,” Skye said back, in an almost dead-on imitation of Tim.
“That’s so my brother. Okay, I’ll run home and change. And then we can head out. But first we have to stop and grab me something to eat. I’m starving.”
“They have a huge food court,” Veronica offered.
“Fantastic. Cheap shopping and some junk food on top. Perfect girls’ day out.” Madison headed for the front door. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
***
Dwayne flipped from ESPN to ESPN2 to catch the second half of the next game.
“You didn’t TiVo it? Damn, man, we can’t watch the first half now.”
He tossed Jeremy a disgusted look. “I didn’t realize I was going to have company tonight, so you’ll have to forgive me for not taking your wishes into account.”
“All is forgiven.” After a long pull of his beer, he set the empty on the coffee table and resettled in the armchair. “I’m surprised you’re not with your lady love tonight. You guys have been almost inseparable for the last two months.”
“Lady love? Christ, Jeremy, who talks like that?” Dwayne rubbed the heel of his hand against his chest. “She’s just hanging with Skye and Madison, as you well know. Don’t give me that look. I know you check in with Madison when you’re not together like an old married couple. You wanna pretend you’re not whipped like Tim, but you got it just as bad.”
“And you don’t?” Jeremy shot back.
Dwayne shrugged. “Maybe I do. I don’t seem to have the same problem with it as you do.” Whipped? Nah. Not really. But he did like knowing what Veronica was up to. Was that a crime? Nope. Just considerate. Yeah, considerate. Not whipped. That was stupid.
As the whistle blew on a play, someone knocked at the door.
“You order food?” he asked Jeremy, who shook his head in response.
He frowned and went to the door, expecting to not answer when he checked the peephole. But his frown morphed into a wide grin when he saw Veronica standing on his doorstep.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” He pulled her into a hug before she could answer. Her arms wrapped around his torso like she was trying to keep her balance, burying her face in his chest.
Taking a few steps back, taking her along with him, he shut the door.
“You have company,” she said, voice muffled in his shirt.
“It’s just Jeremy.”
“Love you too, bro. Hey, Veronica.”
“Hi.”
She was soft-spoken by nature, but even so, her voice sounded much less steady than it should have. He rubbed a hand down her back. “You okay?”
She tilted her head to look him in the eye, and he could see the paleness of her skin, the slight flush that had nothing to do with pleasure.
“Hey, you feeling all right?” Automatically, his hand went to her forehead. What he was feeling, he didn’t know, but her skin felt cold to the touch, slightly damp with perspiration.
“I was fine, but a few minutes ago, just before I turned into the parking lot, my…” She drifted off, then peeked around his arm to see if Jeremy was still listening.
Without looking behind him, Dwayne said, “Jeremy, we’ll be right back.” He guided her to the kitchen and propped her up on one of his barstools. “Okay, talk.”
She spread a hand over her stomach. “I just don’t feel great, that’s all. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” But the glassy look in her eyes, the odd tint to her skin said otherwise.
“You sure you don’t want me to run you over to a doc-in-the-box? There’s one a few blocks down.”
She shook her head, then let it drop to the counter as if she regretted the movement immediately. “No. Please no. Just let me stay here until the room stops moving.”
Okay. What the hell was wrong? It was starting to freak him out. Hundreds of illnesses, diseases, and ailments started running through his head, most of which likely weren’t even connected to an upset stomach. Pulling back on his imagination, he tried for something more helpful. “I’ve got some antacids; think those would help?”
As if just the mention of putting something in her stomach hurt, she groaned. Then, without warning, she slid off the stool with all the grace and elegance of a wounded animal and ran toward his bathroom, bumping her shoulder into the wall along the way. The door shut behind her with a snap, and he winced as he heard the unmistakable sound of retching.
She could be coming down with a summer bug, he reasoned with himself as he got a washcloth from the hall closet and dampened it with cold water at the kitchen sink. Or maybe she could be…
Pregnant.
No. No, not a chance. He wrung the washcloth out with a little more force than necessary, caught himself, and started the process over again with steadier hands.
He wore protection, always. And he… shit.
The first night the condom split.
But no. She said she was on birth control. It would be fine. It had to be. She told him it was fine.