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Puppy Kisses
Jaime Russell
To my favorite military man, my daddy Nathan Burdick Jr. Thank you for being the man who I’ve become to love and respect. I am thankful that you’re my dad. You have given me so much and taught me to be proud of everything that I do. I know that we’ve had our ups and downs but your support means more to me than you will ever know. I love you.
Chapter One
Mia Edwards
The metallic taste in my mouth is a strong indicator that something went wrong on our mission. Struggling to open my eyes to see where I am or to find where my team is brings on a panic that I’ve never felt before. I’ve never felt like this as hopelessness washes over me. I stretch out my arm to feel around for anything to give me clues as to where I am.
I wiggle around and the rocks pierce my back. I wiggle my fingers that are at my side to feel sand mixed with this wet sticky substance. I hear someone yelling my name, but I can’t make out the voice. Everything starts to go cold, taking me back to when I was a young girl during the winter months in Pennsylvania.
As I succumb to the darkness it all fades out, the noise, the taste, and the hardness of the ground are gone like the credits at the end of the movie. The last thought that I have is of my family. If I’m dying, then I pray they find comfort knowing that I didn’t suffer and that I loved them with everything I had to give. I start to fall backwards into the darkness like when you’re dreaming and fall.
My body shakes as I sit up from the couch that I’m sleeping on in my parents’ study. I’m drenched in sweat, turning on the lamp that is on my nightstand above my head. I breathe a sigh of relief that I’m safe. The door swings open as I scream out in fear that someone’s coming for me. My dad is filling the doorway with his body.
“Mia, you okay?” he huffs. He must have run down the stairs.
“Sorry, Daddy. Another nightmare.” I seem so ashamed of myself for still having the nightmares.
“Want to talk about it?” His tone goes from worry to concern in seconds.
“Not right now. Do you think you could get me a glass of apple juice please?” He nods, walking away. It’s always the same nightmare over the last year. It causes more questions than answers.
Grabbing my journal, I start to write down everything that I remember. I go to see my therapist in a few days. I hope she can walk me through my nightmares. I swallow hard as I repeat, “I’m no longer in the war zone. I’m safe. Nothing from the past can harm me,” a few times over and over again.
My dad hands me the glass of apple juice as I’m putting my journal on the nightstand. He eyes it but doesn’t do anything about it. “Want to watch a movie?” Dad grabs the remote and flops down into the recliner. I smile at him. He’s flipping through the channels trying to find something. I love my family and I’m thankful they don’t ask a lot of questions of me. They know I can’t remember what happened to me or how I became like I am but through the nightmares and therapy everyone is hoping that we can finally get the answers to everything. When I try too hard it triggers the nightmares.
“Sure, Daddy, but let’s watch a comedy from this century and not one of those cheesy ones that only you and Mom laugh at.” I laugh when Dad tries to act all offended with his mouth hanging open and placing his hand on his chest which makes us laugh even harder. We start hushing each other which brings on more laughter.
“Your mother is going to come down here and bust us.”
“Probably.” I shrug. Dad puts on Madea’s Big Happy Family. I’m hoping that I can fall asleep soon because I’m exhausted. My head is killing me. I think it was close to six a.m. when sleep finally conquered me. I have a one o’clock appointment with my surgeon. It’s my six-month anniversary of getting this prosthetic leg. I’ve been avoiding physical therapy because it’s bad enough that people think I’m this God damn hero, but to that my friends losing their lives leaves a heavy burden.
My alarm goes off. I sit straight up looking around the room to now figure out where I am.
“Yo, sis. Nice hair.” My brother, Adam, is sitting in the recliner flipping through the television stations. When we stand next to each other we look the same, blonde hair, brown eyes but he’s a foot taller than me. I got my mom’s height.
“Fuck off. What are you doing here?” I throw my blanket over my head.
“The ‘rents asked me to take you to your doctor’s appointment. I didn’t have to work today, and they had to do something at the bookstore.” My grandparents bought the local bookstore about forty years ago and my parents took it over. I’m excited to take over as I have a love of reading, thanks to my grandfather.
“I can call ride share. It’s no big deal.” I smile. I hate that my brother is here babysitting me. I think my parents knew that I wouldn’t go if they didn’t take me. He tells me it’s not a problem. “What’s wrong with my hair?” I try feeling around but nothing seems too out of place.
Adam knows that I avoid looking at myself in the mirror because of my time overseas. I somehow was burned nearby where the medics found me. It was in their report. I’ve read it over and over again. I usually brush my hair then make sure to cover my face. Adam left the room to get some coffee and I start to look around the room, my wheelchair is gone.
“Adam!” I holler his name a few times but he doesn’t answer me. “I need my wheelchair.” I only had the basic physical therapy with my prosthetic leg. I faked knowing what I was doing.
“No wheelchair today, sis.” He stands, looking smug in the doorway.
“Adam, you know I’m not good on my legs,” I plead with him, but the words are falling on deaf ears. “Can you at least give me the wheelchair so I can get to the shower?”
“We are not leaving this house unless you’re standing and let me tell you that I will put that leg on you.” He rolls the wheelchair in for me. He’s too smug right now and I want to punch him in his face so hard.
“Fine. Whatever. But we take the wheelchair in case.” He nods. Adam lifts me up to my chair placing my leg on my lap. I grab the clothes that I laid out last night with the help of my mom. The downstairs bathroom has a shower with a chair in it so I can easily shower. Mom always leaves the towels out for me. I need to get this appointment over with so I can come back home.
Will Adam let me just go to the appointment and home or what does he have up his sleeve?
Chapter Two
Darren Hughes
Flipping the light switch in my bar makes my stomach turn most days, since taking over the bar for my parents after they retired to Florida. My life was supposed to be simple; football career, models on each arm, and money for years but Dad’s stroke ended all of that. I’m an only child so it became my duty.
“This place is a fucking mess,” I mutter to myself as I scan the bar. The chairs are tipped over, food all over the tables and floors, glasses on the bar, and a stink that makes me want to vomit. Before I tackle this mess, I head to my office. I need to know who worked last night. It was the first day that I took off in two years. I had tickets behind home plate for the All-Star game that was held at PNC Park in Pittsburgh. Adam and I drove up the night before and we enjoyed it but now that fun is over. Staring into my office from the doorway “Was I robbed?” I’m so confused as I see the desk is a mess. There are papers everywhere, money thrown on my desk, and receipts on the floor. I gather up the money and place it in the safe. I’ll have to figure something out later but find the schedule first. I lift up papers and aha I found it. Michelle, my assistant manager, and Sandy who is still training closed last night.
“Michelle you know better than this.” I dial her number from the bar’s phone on my desk. She answers on the second ring.
“Darren, thank you so much for coming in for me last night.” I’m confused. “When I got that call that Todd fell and the ambulance was taking him to the ER, I freaked out a lot,” she rushes o
ut.
“Slow down. What the fuck are you talking about? I never came in for you.”
“Sandy said she called you and I wouldn’t have left but Todd was unconscious.” My mind is racing.
“How is he?” Michelle tells me that he’s fine. It’s a mild concussion. “This bar is a disaster. Nothing is done. Money thrown all over my desk.”
“Kat’s here now. I’ll come in and help you clean up the mess.”
“No, Michelle. Todd needs you.” She tries to argue with me. “Give the little dude a high five. Oh, by the way, Sandy is so fired,” I raise my voice.
“I’ll do it. She lied to me. I hired her because I thought I could trust her knowing her parents. I’ll come in a couple of hours early.” I hang up with her to start cleaning the bar. I’ll deal with the office when Michelle gets here. I slam the door to my office and call Gordon, my chef, as I took a look at the kitchen. He is not going to be happy.
I spend the next two hours cleaning this bar. It’s almost noon when I can actually open the damn bar. Gordon came in about an hour ago since he had to take his kid to an appointment.
“That bitch comes near my kitchen again. I’ll deep fry her.” I laugh. Gordon is serious and scary right now.
“We’ll find you some help. I’ll put the sign back in the window.” He turns to go into the kitchen cursing the whole time. I couldn’t help but chuckle. The bar starts to get so busy that I didn’t even notice Adam coming in and with Mia until Deanna, my daytime waitress, mentioned it to me. She gave them water but she’s the only waitress right now and she’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off. I told her that I’d get them.
“What can I get you?” I flop down next to Mia who hugs the wall to get away from me. She’s so small in comparison to me. I’m six-five and she’s five-five but her temper makes her a seven-foot giant. Mia cowers, hiding her face. I knew about the burns, but Adam also told me that she doesn’t like to show him her face.
“I’ll have a draft and the Gordo burger,” Adam speaks up. I write down the order while I wait for Mia. She’s been back home with her parents for almost a year and a half but spent a year in the hospital due to her injuries. She’s become a recluse, but it is great seeing her out and about.
“And you Mia?” I bump her elbow, sending her jumping in her seat. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “Is the lemonade fresh?”
“Gordon made it fresh this morning,” I tell her.
“I’ll have that and a hamburger with ketchup and pickles.” I write it down.
“It’s good seeing you, Mia. I’ve missed you.” I get out of the booth and head to the kitchen and give the order to Gordon.
“Is that?” Gordon starts to ask as he stares out the window into the bar.
“Yes, and don’t stare please.”
I’m behind the bar serving and talking when Mr. Lloyd gets my attention from the end of the bar by waving money at me.
“What can I get you, Mr. McCloud?” He laughs every time I call him that. When he gets drunk, he has an Irish accent. He doesn’t even know how it happens.
“Smartass. I’m sober.” He sticks his tongue out. “I see Adam got Mia Edwards out of the house.” I nod. “I’m paying for her meal and if she starts coming out more and happens to stop here, put everything on my tab. I don’t care if she buys a few rounds for the bar. Got it?”
“That’s a nice gesture.” I make a note for beside the register.
“Mia’s been through hell and back. It breaks my heart.”
“She won’t talk to anyone. I’m surprised she even left the house. It’s been how long since the accident?” one of my patrons comments.
“Listen here, you weasel. You must be new to this part of the county. Mia Edwards is a hero. She almost lost her life giving us the freedoms that we have right now,” Mr. Lloyd snaps at this man.
“Gossip about Mia Edwards is forbidden in the bar, got it?” I warn those in ear shot of me. They raise their hands in surrender. Gordon lets me know that an order is ready. I take it over to Adam and Mia. “Anything else? Do you need refills?” Mia shakes her head.
“All good, thanks,” Adam answers.
What happened to the outgoing, fun-loving Mia?
Chapter Three
Mia
After my appointment all I wanted to do was go home and get away from Adam. He went into the appointment with me and told the doctor the truth about the physical therapy, not wearing my leg, being waited on hand and foot by our parents, and now she has ordered physical therapy along with occupational therapy at home.
“Why are we even here? I wanted to go home,” I snap at Adam after Darren left with our order. “Everyone is staring at me.”
“You’re a local hero who almost died. You don’t leave the house, they’re happy to see you.”
“I’m no hero. I want to go home,” I whine.
“I’m hungry. Plus, I’m your ride home so unless you have your cell phone to order an Uber, you’re stuck here with me.” Adam wasn’t backing down. I keep moving my hair over the burns on my right cheek, neck, ear lobe, and shoulder. I can feel their eyes on me. The whispers as they look. Adam is on the phone like always. I never carry mine because I don’t have anyone to talk to and social media would mean that I had friends to keep in contact with.
“You going to talk to me or just scowl at me?” Adam doesn’t even look up from his phone.
“Talk about what? How you threw me under the bus with my doctor? Dragged me into this place?” My teeth are clenched. Adam puts his phone down to look me right in the eyes.
“You don’t need the wheelchair. You are capable of walking but refuse to do it. You live in the study of our childhood house because you won’t go up to your bedroom or move out. You need to live your life or you’re going to waste your life.” Darren brings our food to us and promptly leaves.
“What if I don’t want to?” I mutter into my burger as I take a bite.
“Then you better change that way of thinking. You are alive and healthy. I don’t know what happened over there and if you’ll ever be whole again but,” Adam moves his hands, so I have to stare at him, “you came back to us. There is so much guilt in your eyes for being alive, but I thank God every day you came back to us. I couldn’t live without my little sister.” I wipe the tears falling as I push the plate away from me.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” I stumble to get out of the booth. I look around to see everyone staring at me. I grab the crutches to help steady me as I walk. It takes me longer to get there because I’m hurting pretty bad. This takes a lot out of me. I’m winded by the time I open the bathroom door of the bar. I lean against the door as it closes trying to slow my breathing down. I can feel the panic attack coming on. The room is spinning, can’t catch my breath, hurt, being squeezed. The last thing I remember is the floor catching me as I close my eyes.
Opening my eyes, I sit straight up, calling for help as I don’t know where I am or how I got here.
“Mia, look at me. It’s Darren. You’re in my apartment above the bar. My assistant manager, Michelle, found you passed out on the bathroom floor.” Darren’s voice comes through my screams.
“How did I get up here?” I’m so confused and scared.
“Michelle, my assistant manager, found you on the floor of the bathroom. She called me on the phone to discreetly have me get Adam. She took care of you until we got there. There’s an entrance in the back to the apartment. No one saw me carrying you out so no need to be embarrassed, okay?” Too late I think to myself. “Adam went to get your stuff from the bar so you can leave from here.”
“I got winded walking to the bathroom. The panic set in when I saw my reflection then hello panic attack. Face meet floor.” I try to smile but I can’t even fake it.
“Why would looking in the mirror do that to you?” Darren was sweet but I know he knows.
“Have you seen my face?” I sarcastically respond. Darren stares a
t me without blinking. I turn my neck to the left to expose the burns. They are from my cheek down to my shoulder. I suffered third degree burns so my skin looks like leather if it was scaled. There are parts of my skin that are a unicorn white or a firetruck engine red. I can’t feel my face. The third-degree burns left my nerves, tendons, and muscles destroyed. I scare young kids which I don’t blame them, but adults would cross the street if they saw me, so I started staying home. I already feel bad about myself, why let other people make me feel this way as well. “Now that you’ve seen them up close and personal, you can go run and hide now.” I cover my face.
“No.” Darren moves my hair out of my face. “You be proud of those scars.” I scoff at him.
“I can’t. People actually run away from me.”
“They are the cowards. Fuck them. Why are you always hiding yourself?” I rub my left leg as it’s starting to hurt. I’m not used to wearing the prosthetic so long.
“I can’t remember what happened to me. Why am I alive and the others died?” I cry into Darren’s shoulder. I talk about this with my therapist, but my family can never know that I wished I had died over there with my unit, my friends, instead of living the life I am now.
“Let it out. You need to cry, vent, or whatever you do it but don’t ever wish you were dead. Your life has meaning. You were spared for a reason. We may never know why but it was for something, something great.” Darren’s expression was serious. I swallow hard. Could he be right?
“Something great?” I chuckle through the tears and snot running down my face. Darren hands me a t-shirt that was laying on the bed. He reassures me it was only worn once; he thinks.
“Do you still cook a mean burger?” I wrinkle my nose at the odd question. “I lost a cook and Gordon needs his time off.” Darren smiles that big toothy smile that melts my heart and makes it hard to tell him no.
No Man Left Behind: A Veteran Inspired Charity Anthology Page 31
