I wander around the house using my crutches, it’s three-thirty in the morning. I notice the fridge is full and so is my pantry. Thank you, Rebecca.
I retire to my chair and watch TV as time slowly slips by.
The caress of soft hands brushing my shoulder, startles me awake. I look up once I get my bearings back. I find myself staring up at Evelyn’s deep chocolate brown eyes. She is standing over me dressed in tight jeans and a warm, soft, baby pink sweater wearing an overly concerned look on her face.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you awake, it’s time for your meds,” Evelyn says, placing four pills in my right hand and a cup of coffee in my left.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking the medicine.
“I’m going to be your day nurse,” she replies, shrugging.
“Wait, hold the fuck up, you are going to be my what?” I say, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
“I told your sister yesterday that since I will be at your house for the next ten days working with you and Grace . . .”
“There’s no need,” I cut her off before she can finish her thought.
“Well, since you do need help and since I’m the only one that can help you with both your leg and with Gracie, you might as well do what you are told,” she tells me nonchalantly, walking away.
I toss my head back into my chair as Grace comes up and licks my hand.
“I know, girl. I can’t get anyone to leave me alone.” Her whimper in agreement makes me laugh.
“So, today we will be working on simple commands. She has been taught the basics, but we will be working to expand those.” She walks back into the room.
“Well, you must not have taught her well because she refused to sleep on the floor. The only place she would sleep was in my bed,” I tell her and the look she gives me is a surprising one.
“Sorry, I thought I broke her of that,” she says, sitting back on the couch.
“What do you mean you thought you broke her of that?” My curiosity has piqued.
“Well, Gracie was my personal dog. I was planning on training her to keep her, but when I read your application, I knew you needed her more than I did. It just so happened we were in the process of breaking the habit of sleeping on my bed when your application came across my desk. I knew you were in need of a special dog and Gracie holds a special place for me,” she tells me, and I am stunned.
“You gave up your personal dog, just so I could have one?” I question, because who in their right mind would do that.
“Well, her end goal was to go with me to the hospital every day and be a therapy dog for patients, but any dog can be trained to do that. I think you and Gracie need each other,” she tells me.
“What exactly do you do at the hospital?” This woman is an enigma and for some reason I want to find out all I can about her.
“I am a PRN nurse for the pediatric oncology ward at the hospital. Dogs Inc. is the company I started after my sister’s first deployment. I was working with therapy dogs for a while, but it was mainly for my patients not for our veterans,” she tells me, and I am blown away.
“So, that’s why you checked me out after my fall yesterday.” I pat Gracie’s head running my fingers through her fur.
“Yes, but more so because I can tell you are stubborn, and you thought I was going to pity you,” she informs me.
I am taken aback by her accusations; I just don’t want people feeling sorry for me. I am doing just fine. I lie to myself hoping even I believe me.
Clearing her throat. “Let me take a look at your leg,” she says.
Before I could protest, her fingers lightly graze my skin as she removes my bandage causing me to suck in a breath. Her skin feels like velvet against mine. When she is this close her heady mixture of vanilla and cherry blossoms fills my senses.
“I need to clean it. Then we can work on some commands if you want.” She grabs the wipes and antiseptic cleaner.
Still stunned by her touch and aroma, I say nothing and just let her tend to me.
“So, Jackson, tell me about yourself,” she says, applying a fresh bandage.
“What do you want to know?” I dread questions. People always ask the same three questions.
“What do you do now, since you were discharged?” she asks.
“Jobs here and there. I haven’t really found my calling since I got back. I was in the hospital for almost a year and since then I have just done odd jobs,” I say. Something about her tells me there is no condemnation or pity about her questions.
“Stand for me please.” She lifts my shirt over my head and reveals the blue and purple bruises running along my rib cage, disappearing into my shorts from slamming into the ground.
Her fingers run across my skin. “Tell me if this hurts at all,” she says as she gingerly presses against my ribs.
“No, it feels fine,” I tell her until her fingers grip my hip. “Ahhh, that is tender,” I tell her. The moment her hands leave my skin I feel her absence.
“Sorry, Sorry.” She pulls her hands away.
“No, really it’s okay. I just didn’t realize I would be this sore after a fall,” I say, wanting desperately to have her hands back on me.
Chapter Four
Evelyn
Taking care of Jackson, getting to know him, I realize what an amazing man he is. His deep blue eyes tell me that he still is haunted by his past. War has left an imprint on his life that will never be eased.
When I came in, he was asleep on the couch, I knew he was in the middle of a dream. How often does he have nightmares, I wonder?
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I’m going to be your day nurse,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t kick me out.
“I told your sister yesterday that since I will be at your house for the next ten days working with you and Grace . . .”
“There is no need.” He cuts me off and irritation surges through me.
“Well, since you do need help and since I am the only one that can help you with both your leg and with Gracie, you might as well do what you are told,” I say nonchalantly, walking away.
“So, today we will be working on simple commands. She has been taught the basics, but we will be working to expand those.” I walk back into the room carrying a baggie of treats in my hand.
“Well, you must not have taught her well because she refused to sleep on the floor. The only place she would sleep was in my bed,” he tells me.
“Sorry, I thought I broke her of that,” I say, sitting back on the couch.
“What do you mean you thought you broke her of that?” he asks, so, I lean back on the couch and explain.
“Well, Gracie was my personal dog. I was planning on training her to keep her, but when I read your application, I knew you needed her more than I did. It just so happened we were in the process of breaking the habit of sleeping on my bed when your application came across my desk. I knew you were in need of a special dog and Gracie holds a special place for me.” I don’t even know why I told him that, for some reason I lose all common sense when this man is around.
“You gave up your personal dog, just so I could have one?” he questions.
“Well, her end goal was to go with me to the hospital every day and be a therapy dog for patients, but any dog can be trained to do that. I think you and Gracie need each other,” I explain, hoping it makes sense.
“What exactly do you do at the hospital?” he asks.
“I’m a PRN nurse for the pediatric oncology ward at the hospital. Dogs Inc. is the company I started after my sister’s first deployment. I was working with therapy dogs for a while, but it was mainly for my patients not for our veterans,” I explain, hoping it all makes sense.
Something about him makes me want to tell him everything. Maybe he could help me understand what happened to Grace when she was over there.
“So, that is why you checked me out after my fall yesterday.” he says, patting Gracie’s head running his fing
ers through her fur.
“Yes, but more so because I can tell you are stubborn, and you thought I was going to pity you,” I inform him.
He is taken aback by my accusations. “I just don’t want people feeling sorry for me. I am doing just fine,” he says, getting defensive again.
Clearing my throat. “Let me take a look at your leg,” I say.
Before he could protest, my fingers make contact with his skin and warmth like fire shoots up my hands. The way his body felt under my touch caused me to tremble. I have never experienced such an overpowering feeling before.
“I need to clean it. Then we can work on some commands if you want.” I grab the wipes and antiseptic cleaner.
“So, Jackson, tell me about yourself,” I say, applying a fresh bandage.
“What do you want to know?” I can tell by his tone he dreads questions like this.
“What do you do now? Since you were discharged.” I ask.
“Jobs here and there, I haven’t really found my calling since I got back. I was in the hospital for almost a year and since then I have just done odd jobs,” he says.
“Stand for me please.” I lift his shirt over his head and reveal the blue and purple bruises running along Jackson’s rib cage from where he slammed into the ground.
My fingers run across his skin. “Tell me if this hurts at all,” I say as I gingerly press against his ribs.
“No, it feels fine,” he tells me until my fingers grip his hip. “Ahhh, that is tender,” he says.
“Sorry, Sorry.” I jerk my hands away. My heart dropped at the thought of hurting him again but my fingers itched to touch him once more.
Chapter Five
Jackson
Days have gone by since my fall, and somehow, we have fallen into a rhythm. Evelyn comes around nine-thirty and we work on some commands throughout the day; she spends more time here than I believe is necessary.
“When do you work?” I ask.
“I work Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. On the nights I work I come here straight from the hospital sometimes.”
“Wait, when do you sleep?” I ask because I have never seen her sleeping.
“I sleep when the hospital is slow, which is rare,” she jokes and turns back to her computer.
“So, can I ask you a question?” I look over to Evie typing feverishly away on her computer.
“I don’t know, can you?” she volleys back with a wink.
“Fine, smart-ass, may I ask you a question?” I couldn’t help but laugh, she is such a nerd.
“You can ask me anything.” She turns from her screen and comes to sit next to me on the couch.
“Why did you pick the name Gracie for her?” I ask, pointing to Gracie who by now has rolled around under her blankets cocooning herself and is now fast asleep.
“My sister’s name was Grace.” Her tone tells me there is a story there, but I don’t want to pry.
“I named her Grace after my sister, her name was Louisa Grace, but she hated her first name with a passion, so she just went by Grace for everything. Grace was in the Army, she specialized in explosives working with the K-9 units in Baghdad, Operation Iraqi Freedom,” she trails off watching Grace still snoring away.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” I pick at my nails anxiously awaiting her answer.
“She was on her second tour when her unit was sent out to search and clear an abandoned building. It was said the building housed radicals. She and Tex, her German shepherd, just finished clearing it when their building fell under fire. She was hit, Tex pulled her to cover behind an abandoned car until they could be rescued. She was discharged, Tex was reassigned to a new handler, and she just couldn’t recover. One year after she was discharged my sister fell victim to 22 A Day.” Her tone was so filled with pain my heart ached for her, she reaches up and wipes tears from her cheek.
“When people talk about coming back, they don’t tell you how hard it is, they tell you all the good parts but not about the bad,” I tell her, in a story like Grace’s the bad outweighed the good.
“My sister was a force of nature; she had her whole life in front of her. She was twenty-eight when she committed suicide,” she whispered.
“I am so sorry.” The words probably sound hollow to her after all she had to have heard those words probably a million times.
“Grace was so full of life, always eager to help anyone, anytime. She loved animals, so when she joined the K-9 unit it wasn’t a big surprise. When she came home, she was a whole different person, her spark was gone.” She sat there in silence not sure what to say.
“You know when I came home, everyone just expected me to be okay, In the hospital every time a nurse came in to check my vitals, or when I had visitors come by, they always said the same thing. Just thank goodness, it could have been worse, thankfully you are still alive. Don’t worry things will get better,” I tell her.
“You know what most people don’t understand, they don’t understand that physically you might get better, but when you close your eyes you are right back there. Right back at the start, you repeat some of the most terrifying moments over and over again. I know there were days, I was in such a dark place I could have ended it all. I would have done anything not to see the explosion and carnage that was left behind that day.” My body is coiled tight with talking about memories.
“Do you still have those days?” She looks at me questioningly and I know she is sizing me up.
“I still have dark days but nothing like what I had when I first got back. When my leg is acting up or when I sit too idle, the past can still haunt me,” I tell her honestly.
“Does it bother you a lot?” she asks, pointing to my leg.
“Hell yes, it is more discomfort than anything else, after a long day or when it is really hot outside, and I am sweaty,” I say unsure on why I am unloading everything on her, but something makes me want to tell her all of it and she would listen without judgement.
“I think what you have done, how far you have come, even since I met you, I think you are very brave and a good man,” she tells me.
I timidly run my knuckles down her cheek. “That is because you make me want to be in a better place. Getting to know you, the kind of person you are, not to mention when you are around, I don’t feel so numb and the fact you don’t take my crap, makes me want to spend as much time with you as I can,” I tell her, crashing my lips to hers, her hands gripping my hair, our teeth gnashing together. My body craving to feel, taste, and touch everything about her.
When she pulls away, we are both panting. She is flushed, her arousal has crept up her chest and colored her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I have wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you,” I tell her honestly.
“It’s okay, I have wanted to do that as well, I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.” She gently runs her fingers over her swollen lips.
I grab her, wrapping her in my arms. “I have wondered what you tasted like since the day you barged into my house,” I tell her, and I am rewarded with a sigh.
“I have to work tomorrow night, but can I come back over after my shift?” Her voice was just above a whisper.
I lean in kissing her tenderly. “I would love for you to come over, what time is your shift over?” I ask her and for the first time in a while I don’t dread being alone.
“I should be here by three, is that too late?” She looks hesitant.
“No, that’s perfect,” I tell her. “Just come in and climb in next to me.” I run my knuckles down her cheeks.
Flipping through the channels, trying to pass the time till Evelyn gets off work, I am trapped in boredom.
Grace gives me a nudge, whimpering. “Ok, girl, let’s go potty and then get ready for bed,” I command. Watching her bushy black and tan tail wag back and forth, I couldn’t help but smile. Once Gracie is back inside, she darts towards the bedroom, at the door I realize she is nowhere to be found. So, I call
her name when out from my comforter that was piled on my bed, pops a deep gray and black muzzle, her floppy ears come next.
“What are you doing, girl?” I look at her like she would actually be able to answer me.
She lets out a bark, I snap my fingers and command her to the floor, but she just burrowed deeper into my bed. I lean forward and she licks my face. Her floppy ears and big round chocolate brown eyes made me cave.
“Fine, you big baby but stay on your side,” I say and climb into bed next to her.
I am blinded by white lights, the smell of blood and antiseptic stinging my nose. I can hear noises, but I can’t make out what is being said. I can only see white shapes, nothing is focused. My body is numb, so I close my eyes and I’m right back there on the battlefield, my hand pressed against Rider’s leg trying to stop the bleeding.
“Hang in there, buddy, I got you,” I tell him, my adrenaline pumping through me. I look around and see Riggs lying on the ground blood surrounding him. I need to stop Rider’s bleeding before I can go check on Riggs, I grab my bandana, wrapping it around his thigh tying it super tight.
“I need to go check on Riggs, I will be right back. Make sure you hang in there.” I go to stand, and my ankle gives out. “I’m coming, Riggs,” I yell toward him, hoping to get some response but instead I got nothing. I combat crawl across the road, once I reach Riggs, I am relieved to feel he still has a pulse.
I try to assess his injuries. I see the blood, but I can’t pinpoint where it is coming from. I tilt him sideways gently, that is when I see the six-inch piece of metal shrapnel embedded into his back. I know I can’t pull it out, but I need to take the pressure off it until we can get out of here. Whipping sounds send a chill of relief through me. I look up to see a rescue helicopter coming in, I turn Riggs over onto his stomach and race back to Rider.
No Man Left Behind: A Veteran Inspired Charity Anthology Page 27
