by SL Beabhar
"Look, Jack, it's a bad time. Can I call you back later?"
"Wait," she said. He could hear her shuffling, then the distinct sound of a door closing. "I'm not calling about me. It's not Fred, either. It's Aunt Reggie."
A heavy weight seemed to settle on his shoulders. He placed the phone on the table. "What's happened?"
"They think it was a stroke."
"And?"
She inhaled loudly. "And they don't think she'll last very long." Her voice faltered as he heard her struggle to keep her tears at bay. "Can you come home?"
He placed his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. He felt the heaviness spread from his shoulders and settle in his chest. "I'll see what I can do--"
"It's an emergency. A family emergency."
"I know that, Jack." He heard the anger in his voice. He took several deep breaths and reminded himself that his youngest sister was the most sensitive of them all. If he didn't adjust his tone, she'd abruptly end their conversation. "You know I don't have a normal job. I can't just call and tell my boss that I won't be in tomorrow morning. I have to formally request leave, and there is absolutely no guarantee that they'll grant it immediately."
"But you'll ask, right, Ash?" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "She's been asking for you."
His jaw tightened, and he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll see what I can do."
CHAPTER THREE
Ash flinched when he heard glass breaking in the background. For the fourth time in nine weeks, yet another woman in Ash's life had resorted to destroying his belongings. However, instead of a dissatisfied girlfriend, it was his beloved Aunt Reggie having a royal fit. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and cradled the phone closer to his ear as he tried to decipher the curses Reggie shouted at her caregiver. Most of her words were slurred because the stroke had left her partially paralyzed, but she could still land a few clear zingers.
"Fuck you!" yelled Reggie. "Bitch! Ass-face!"
"You better come get her," the caregiver snapped into the phone.
Ash tightened a fist and struck it against his thigh. "I'll pay an additional twenty bucks an hour if you stay."
There was a pause on the other end. Throwing back his head to stare at the ceiling, Ash crossed his fingers and waited for her reply.
"Well..." she hesitated. "I guess."
"Thank you." He'd barely said the words when he heard a loud thump through the phone.
"Ah, hell no!" the caregiver yelled.
"I'll be there in about twenty minutes," Ash said, accepting defeat. He left his desk chair, grabbed his bag, and walked to his office door. "Can you hold on that long? Please."
The nursing aide hung up the phone without answering his question.
"Shit," he mumbled before pulling the door open. He stepped out of his office and heard phones buzzing from down the hallway. He walked to his commanding officer's door and rapped his knuckles against the wood. "Sir?"
Ash could hear a chair scraping across the floor. He was prepared to turn the knob when suddenly the door opened, revealing his CO standing with a coffee mug in his hand.
"Cooper?" asked Lt. Col. Walker. His black brows were raised, and a glimmer of amusement lurked in his dark eyes. Judging from the smile tugging at his lips, he already knew why Ash was knocking on his door. Walker stepped aside, allowing Ash to enter his office. "Let me guess. Another problem with your aunt?"
In spite of his CO's casualness, Ash stood erect in front of the desk. When Walker motioned for him to relax, Ash dropped his hands to his side before answering, "The home care aide is quitting. She said there was an accident in the kitchen."
"Ah." Walker sat down in his chair and steepled his hands. "What number is this?"
Ash actually had to take a second to count. Several aides had quit their first day of working. One had never shown up for her shift. A couple had lasted a week or two before leaving. One had lasted a month, just long enough for her to find another job.
"Eight, sir."
"Nine," countered Walker. He held nine fingers up and grinned widely. "Today makes nine, I think. Remind me again how many months your aunt has been living with you."
"Two, sir. She moved in about two months ago." When Reggie had moved into his house, Ash had explained to his CO that he'd be caring for his elderly aunt while she recovered from a stroke. Ash had promised that her needs would be seen to by professional care aides, and his CO had been willing to accommodate this new responsibility as long as it didn't interfere with Ash's duties.
Walker inhaled deeply then crossed his beefy arms over his broad chest. "And how many days have you had to rush out of here because of your aunt's antics?"
Ash squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the sweat gather at the back of his neck. Unfortunately for him, he didn't work in the private sector where he might have been able to take unpaid leave to care for his aunt. Since he was a commissioned officer in the Air Force, he had to jump through hoops to be approved for annual leave, and there wasn't much leniency for great aunts and grandparents. His job wasn't on the line, but his record was in jeopardy of being tarnished if he couldn't find a reliable caregiver.
"I believe this is the tenth time, sir."
Walker nodded. "That sounds about right." He pointed at the chair in front of his desk. He waited until Ash was seated before he continued. "Let me give you a bit of advice, son. You're what? Twenty-nine? Thirty?"
"Thirty-three."
Walker's eyebrows rose. "What? I don't know why, but you always struck me as younger--" He made a clicking sound out of the side of his mouth, then shook his head. "Have you thought about finding yourself a wife and settling down?"
Ash reared backwards at the thought. After twelve years on active duty, the only long-term commitment he wanted was the one he had with the Air Force. In another eight years, he would be eligible for retirement.; however, he had a good, clean service record with a solid reputation as a leader and warrior. If he played his cards right, he might be able to make it to Full-Bird status.
But his new role as Reggie's caretaker was jeopardizing that outcome. He was already struggling to keep his head above water, and he didn't want a wife to further complicate things. The last thing he needed was a messy divorce to blacken his reputation, and he'd been around long enough to know that was how most military marriages ended.
Nope. Reggie was enough. When she had a caregiver, he still had to relieve them at night. That meant most of his evenings and all his weekends were spent caring for Reggie. He hadn't been on a date in months. And to his surprise, he hadn't missed it all that much.
"I'd like to get married sometime in the future," he lied. "I'm not opposed to it. I just have a lot on my plate at the moment."
Walker nodded again, then he leaned forward onto his desk. His full lips curled into another smile. "I'm just thinking a good wife might be the solution to your current problems."
Ash's heart skipped a beat, but he pretended to listen. "How so?"
Walker glanced around his crammed office, then he got up from his chair and walked to the door. He craned his neck back and forth to see who was outside of his office, then he closed the door. He returned to Ash, leaned against the desk, and propped his leg up.
"Did you know I began my career as an enlisted man? Just barely eighteen, fresh out of high school. I was the ninth kid of fourteen, and my parents were immigrants from Jamaica, and they struggled to keep us all housed, clothed, and fed. For me, joining the military meant I could send money back to help my parents." He crossed his hands over his lap and stared at the wall beyond Ash. Ash followed his gaze and found a portrait of a much younger Walker, standing between a nicely dressed man and woman. "Of course, being unmarried and just an E-2, I had to live in the dormitory. If I was married, I could move into my own house with my wife." He twisted his lips and shrugged. "So I got myself a wife." He cocked his head. "You see what I'm saying?"
Ash nodded slowly as the colonel's meaning penetrated his mind. These types of arrangem
ents weren't uncommon; it was one of the reasons there was such a high divorce rate. Just before Ash could answer, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. "I think I understand, sir. I'll consider it."
Walker stepped away from his desk. He walked around the desk and collapsed into his chair. "I've worked with you because I understand family. I also understand that sometimes family brings problems outside of our control. But we're reaching a point where their problems have become your problem. Understand?"
Ash pushed up from his chair. "Understood." He stood at attention and saluted, and Walker dismissed him. Ash escaped the office, keeping his head tucked low as he heard his colleagues in the hallway chuckle at yet another abrupt departure.
Luckily for Ash, it was an easy ride to his home, and he pulled into his driveway about forty minutes after the aide's initial phone call.
He hadn't even got out of the car when the front door of his house burst open. The middle-aged aide--whose name he couldn't presently remember--fled the house with her purse in one hand and her jacket in the other.
"You said you'd only be twenty minutes!" she raged as she rushed to her car.
"My boss needed to talk to me," he said, running to catch up with her. "I couldn't leave without his go-ahead."
She yanked open her car door and flipped the bird towards the house before collapsing into the driver's seat. She made to pull the door shut, but Ash latched onto it. For a few tense moments, they engaged in a tug-of-war as she tried to pull the door shut while he kept it open.
Releasing a heavy sigh, he rolled his eyes towards the heavens and softened his hold just as she yanked the door. As she fell against the passenger seat, her eyes shot daggers in his direction. He shrugged and leaned his elbow against the car. "Tell me what happened. Exactly."
The aide gripped the steering wheel like it was his aunt's neck. "I asked your aunt if she wanted a cup of coffee. She nodded, so I thought that meant she wanted some. I made the coffee, placed the mug in front of her, and the next thing I know, it's being hurled at me." The aide reached out, grabbed onto the door handle, and pulled it shut. "I'm not paid enough to deal with the likes of her." She started the engine, then rolled down the window. "No one is paid enough."
He had to leap away as she reversed out of his driveway. He placed his hands on top of his head and counted to ten. When he still felt the anger bubbling inside of him, he repeated the exercise. Once he felt like he had collected himself enough to face Reggie, he walked to the door and stepped inside.
He was greeted by a large round object hurtling towards him. He ducked in time but grimaced as the plate crashed against the wall and exploded into small pieces. "Good afternoon, Reggie. Having a good day?"
His aunt stood in the kitchen doorway. She was leaning against her cane with a furious gleam in her eye. With halting steps, she walked to his dining room table and sat down in a chair.
"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, removing his cover. He walked to Reggie, leaned down, and brushed his lips across her spiked hair. "I haven't either. I'll make us a couple of sandwiches. Does that work? BLT for me and tuna salad for you." He could feel the anger emanating from her body. It seemed to be the only emotion she felt nowadays. He thought he understood its source.
She'd been taken away from her home in Tennessee, dragged across the country, and plopped down on the opposite coast. Instead of being an independent woman, she was now beholden to her grandnephew and had to rely on caregivers to feed, bathe, and entertain her.
With his back to her, he felt comfortable enough to let out the pent-up emotion. Tears gathered in his eyes, and his throat felt constricted. He rested his hands against the counter, then tucked his head into his chest and struggled to regain control. After a few moments, he stood to his full height before swiping his hand over his eyes. Then he opened the fridge door and quickly made their sandwiches.
"We ran out of tuna salad. Luckily I found some roasted turkey in the drawer." He placed her plate in front of her, then returned to the kitchen to fill a glass of water and grab the medi-set. He walked back into the dining room and sat down beside her. He took out the medication, placed the three pills onto her plate, then held up the water. "I doubt she was able to give you the medications. Take them please."
He saw a steely glint enter her green eyes. She frequently resisted taking her pills, which was a common complaint from her caregivers.
"For me, Reggie." He plucked the medication from the plate, took her left hand into his, and placed the pills into her palm. "Please."
As he watched her take the medication, his mind replayed the conversation in Walker's office. What his boss proposed wasn't exactly ideal. He wasn't ready to get hitched. He didn't want that type of commitment in his life, but as he looked into his aunt's pain-filled eyes, he realized he would do anything for her. After his parents' death, it had been Reggie who'd placed her own life on hold to care for Ash and his younger sisters.
For years, she'd operated her own biker bar, but she'd sold it so she could dedicate her time and money to caring for her young charges. If she'd been willing to do that for him, surely he could do this for her.
Although contract marriages were frequent in the military, particularly among young enlisted men and women, they were frowned upon because they caused more headaches than they provided solutions. Not to mention, if such an arrangement was discovered, he could be punished for attempting to defraud the government.
Ash fought the rising panic in his chest. The Air Force would have a damned hard time making a case against him. People married for stupid reasons nowadays. As long as he and his potential wife had an understanding and kept any drama between them to a minimum, then it'd be damn hard for anyone to prove anything. But if it was found out, he not only risked a dishonorable discharge but also years in prison.
Biting into his sandwich, he looked towards Reggie who held half of her sandwich. She'd taken only a small bite, but it was more than she'd usually eat.
"Reggie," he said quietly, "you and I have to come to an agreement. I know you hate it here. I get it. I do. But the colonel's sympathy has worn out. I can't keep missing work to run home whenever you piss off another caregiver. So, I'm going to do something a bit drastic." He turned in his chair to stare into her eyes. She chewed on her sandwich, staring right back at him with a disgusted look. "I'm going to find someone you can't get rid of."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Are you sure about this?" Phoebe asked as Dana tied the blindfold over her eyes.
"Trust me, cuz," said Dana, removing her hands. "I always wanted to do this, but I couldn't because of the kids. Marty is absolutely in love with his preschool teacher, and Angie is looking forward to her next softball season. Maybe when they're older, we can move away, but in the meantime, I'll just live through you." Dana grabbed Phoebe's hand and lifted it into the air. She placed a dart into Phoebe's open palm, then wrapped Phoebe's fingers around it. "Okay. I've tacked a map onto the wall. As long as you throw straight ahead, you should have no problem hitting a city."
Phoebe wanted to leave Indianapolis and start fresh in a new city. But, she hadn't a clue as to where she would go and how she would get there. She'd shared her thoughts about leaving with Dana, and Dana had proposed this little game. Phoebe would throw a dart on the map and wherever it landed, she would move there.
"You ready?" Dana asked.
Phoebe rolled back her shoulders and shook out her arms. Her heart beat so fast, it threatened to hammer right out of her chest. She licked her lips, inhaled a slow breath, then exhaled through her lips. "Ready."
Dana clapped. "Okay. Go for it."
Phoebe gulped. She knew it was silly, but there were butterflies in her belly. This was her future, and she was casually determining it with a little dart. Wanting to get the anxiety over with, she pulled back her arm and threw the dart towards the wall.
"Oh my God!" Dana shrieked.
"What?" asked Phoebe, pulling the blindfold down from her eyes. She looked
at the map. The dart had landed smack-dab in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. Squinting, Phoebe walked to the map and lowered her face closer to the wall. "Jamaica?"
Dana approached her and leaned her arm on Phoebe's back. She too squinted at the map, but then she pulled the dart out. "I think it's closer to Haiti." She drew in a loud breath. "Oh my God! You're moving to Haiti!"
Phoebe whipped around to stare at her cousin. "I'm not going to Haiti. Or Jamaica."
"Why not?" Her cousin looked crestfallen. She waved the dart in front of Phoebe's face. "That's the rule, right? You go where the dart lands. Since it landed between Haiti and Jamaica, I guess you can choose."
Phoebe pinched the bridge of her nose, before shaking her head. "I figured it was an unwritten rule that I was limiting myself to the US."
"What's wrong with Haiti or Jamaica?"
"They're foreign countries. I just can't pack up and move there. I have to get visas. Hell, I don't even have a passport. And, I think they only speak French in Haiti. I don't speak French."
Dana shrugged. "You could learn?"
Phoebe plucked the dart from her cousin's hand. "No way. The US only." As she walked back to where she'd thrown the dart from, she pulled the blindfold over her eyes. "I'll do it again. If it lands in Canada or Mexico this time, I'll have to do it over."
Dana released a heavy sigh. "Fine. Do it again."
Phoebe took a slow breath in, then as she exhaled, she hurled the dart towards the wall. She listened for Dana's excited scream, but none came this time. She pulled the blindfold from her eyes and glanced at her cousin. "What's wrong?"
Dana shifted from foot to foot. Her lips curled as her brows lowered. "Nothing." She shook her head again. "Actually, maybe you want to do it over again." She crinkled her nose and turned to stare at Phoebe. "You don't wanna go there."
Phoebe swiveled her neck to look at the wall. The dart had landed near Canada, but in the United States. Dana's lack of enthusiasm was rubbing off on her as she walked to the map. She pulled the dart from the wall and focused on the small puncture mark left behind. "Tacoma." She turned to face Dana. "Tacoma, Washington? What's wrong that?"
