by Roslyn Bane
Shelly did not respond to her comment. Kris poked at the chicken on her plate, pushing it from side to side, occasionally taking a bite. Despite its seasonings, it tasted bland, and the rice was no better. Finally, she pushed the plate aside and brought her salad closer. She ate that quickly.
“You need to eat something other than salad,” Shelly grumbled.
“I’m not that hungry. I’ll take it for lunch tomorrow.”
“You had an appointment today didn’t you?” Shelly drained her wine glass and refilled it.
“I have appointments a couple times a week…physical therapy, counseling. I had one for my arm today.”
“I’m not talking about those. The appointment for your boob.” Shelly gestured with her fork. “That mental stuff will get better. You have to relax. I want to know when they’re going to fix your tit.”
Kris stared at her in disbelief. “You only want to know about my breast? You don’t want to hear about my arm?”
“Not really. It’s moving,” Shelly said with disdain.
“It’s moving? Do you realize if I can’t get my strength back, or get better hand control, I can’t be a surgeon? I’d have to leave the military.”
Shelly drained her wine glass. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
“What do you think I would do if I can’t operate? In or out of the military, if I can’t hold the scalpel, if I can’t control it or the other equipment, I can’t work.”
“Well just be a family doctor, like your father.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Shelly. Don’t you—”
“Listen, you’ll get your arm strength back, and those crazy sessions you go to will get you to stop being so twitchy.”
“Crazy sessions? Twitchy?” She shouted, “God, who are you?”
“I’m the same person I’ve always been.”
“No, you’re not. Christ, Shelly, you assaulted me. You grabbed me, pushed me against the wall hard enough to hurt my head. I told you no, but you kept going. You hurt me.”
“Assault? Bullshit. You came like you always do. You like it rough. Oh yeah, every so often I have to get all soft and gentle for you. But I know what you like. You sure didn’t put up much of a fight.” Shelly grinned and drained her wine glass. “You’re the one who came back cuckoo.” Shelly twirled her finger around her temple.
Kris pushed back from the table, scraped her food into the trash and thrust her dishes into the dishwasher. “I’m not crazy. You have no idea what it’s like over there. What it does to someone.”
“Oh, I think I have an excellent idea. I see you and others like you. Jumping when a car backfires, or there’s a loud bang. You’d think you were all babies getting startled by loud noises, not big brave warriors,” she snickered.
Kris opened and closed her mouth several times, although nothing came out. She stood speechless, for several seconds before she walked out. Several minutes later she returned, grabbed her keys and wallet and stormed out, leaving without speaking to Shelly. She drove aimlessly for an hour and was somewhat surprised to find herself at the beach.
She kicked off her shoes and walked down to the water, dipping her feet in. The water was warm, comfortable. She watched as the wave wash flowed back and forth over her feet, creating little divots in the sand as she sank in. A seagull landed nearby and eyed her carefully, watching to see if a morsel would be offered. They stared blankly at each other until the bird gave up and moved further down the beach to where a child played as his parents sat nearby. Kris moved back up away from the water and sat in the sand, looking out at the sea. Which one of us has changed the most? What did I ever see in her? I can’t even remember. I’ve changed. I don’t have the patience for small talk anymore. And people whining about some perceived slight makes me want to shake them. How much longer am I willing to try? Will Shelly go to counseling? Do I want this to work?
She makes me uneasy now. I never know what’s going to set her off. She’s drinking a lot. Too much. Every night, three to four drinks, usually whiskey, often with beer or wine in the same evening. Drinks with lunch on weekends, sometimes at breakfast with a bloody Mary or a screwdriver. Shelly always drank more than me, but never to the excess that she is now. Is work getting to her? Do I need to give her more support? Maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree?
***
Two hours later she returned home and sat in the driveway for several minutes contemplating what to say to Shelly. We both need more time to adjust to being together again. We’ve been together for five. But I’ve been gone for two. My nightmares take a toll on Shelly also. She must be sleep deprived too. But over the last week, I’ve only had one nightmare. Perhaps they’re over. With a sigh, she climbed out of the car. Please be asleep, I can’t stand the thought of you touching me again.
Kris entered the house quietly, gave a silent sigh that the dinner mess was cleaned up and Shelly was not awake. Or at least she wasn’t in the living room watching TV. She peered in the darkened bedroom, saw that she was sleeping. Kris grabbed a nightshirt and went to shower. She lingered under the warm spray, enjoying the water pulsing from the shower head against her shoulders and neck. When the water started to chill, she turned it off, reached her hand out, and grabbed her towel. She was startled as Shelly stood leaning against the counter.
“You finally came home. Where did you go?”
“Down to the beach. I needed to think. You pissed me off, Shelly.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” Shelly reached out and moved Kris’ hands away from the half knot holding the towel closed over her.
Kris grabbed her hand. “I’m tired, Shelly.”
“I said I was sorry. Let’s make up.” She pulled the towel away in a rough jerk.
“Shelly, I don’t want to—aggh.” She backed away, held her hands over her aching breast as tears sprung to her eyes. She cupped her breasts trying to soothe the pain from where Shelly had grabbed her and twisted. Her voice tight with pain she choked back the tears, “Why did you do that? Can’t you see I’m already bruised?”
“Oh please, stop with drama. You’ve always liked me to be rough with your tits.”
“No, not like this.”
“I don’t see bruises any different than before. You’ve always liked rough sex. Stop pretending you don’t,” Shelly snapped back as she advanced.
Kris stuck her hand out. “No. I’m not giving in to you tonight. I am going to bed, and you’re not touching me. Leave me the hell alone.” She pushed Shelly and stepped by her grabbing the nightshirt and pulling it over her head as she walked out of the bathroom.
Shelly followed her into the bedroom, pulled clothes from the closet and dressed quickly, “I’m not putting up with this shit from you. I’m going out.” She stomped out of the room, several seconds later the front door slammed. Kris walked to the front door locked it, turned off the lights and climbed into bed.
When she awakened in the morning, Shelly still wasn’t home. Kris dressed quickly and left for work early. She wanted to be gone before Shelly returned from wherever she had spent the night this time.
Chapter Twenty-six
SAM FINISHED DRESSING AND left the locker room. Walking down the hall, she noticed Kris stretching in the glass fronted studio. She stopped and looked through the glass window. She waved when Kris looked up. Kris gestured for her to come into the studio and Sam smiled and nodded agreement.
Sam watched as Kris continued to stretch while she entered the room. Whoa, she is seriously flexible. “I thought that it was you. I haven’t seen you in a while, it looks like your arm is doing better.”
Kris smiled. “It is. Now there’s a chance I’ll get back to performing surgery again.”
Sam couldn’t help but notice the way Kris’ eyes sparkled and how she smiled when she mentioned getting back into the operating room. I hope I get a second chance too. “That’s great. Any idea when?”
Kris sat down on the floor to stretch her legs, and lean
ed forward to grab her toes. “No idea. I need to get my fingers moving better and get my strength up. Enough about me. How have you been? How’s therapy?”
“Therapy sucks.” Sam grinned as she said it. “They’re doing their best to kick my ass. I’m on the stationary bike for thirty minutes at a time. That’s good, and I’m allowed to workout on my own. I’m almost starting to feel like myself again.”
“You’re doing well.”
Kris stood and reached her arms overhead, as she did her shorts slid up revealing a rectangular scar on her thigh. Sam tried not to stare at the scar, but its symmetry drew her eyes like a magnet. She looked up to see Kris watching her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stared. God knows I know how that feels.”
“It’s alright. It’s from a skin graft. It doesn’t hurt. It gets a little buzzy occasionally.”
“That’s good…that it doesn’t hurt.” They both looked over when several people started to enter the room and lay out yoga mats. “Well, it looks like I should get going. It was good to see you,” Sam said.
“You too.” Kris watched as Sam started to walk away. She glanced at her watch. It was coming up on six o’clock. “Hey, Sam? Would you like to get some dinner? If you can wait until I clean up?”
“Ah sure. That would be good. I’m tired of eating in the unit.” This could be fun.
“I’ll just be about fifteen minutes. You can decide where you would like to eat.”
“I’ll wait out in the lobby.”
***
The pizzeria was small and rundown. Kris hesitated before climbing out of the car. Sam laughed at her hesitation. “Don’t let the outside fool you, the food is great. Trust me. You’ll love it.”
“Let’s go.”
Sam opened the door for Kris, and they squeezed into a vacant high top. Within minutes they had ordered, and their drinks arrived. “So, Doc, what do you do for fun?”
“I like hiking and camping. Back country, not just going to some campground with trailers parked twenty feet from each other. You look surprised.”
Sam nodded her head and smiled, “I am. I can’t picture you carrying a pack and sleeping in a tent. Where have you been?”
“The Sierra Nevadas. I was with some friends in the John Muir wilderness. We hiked, camped, and fished. We spent some time rock climbing and rappelling too. I’m not sure that I’ll be dangling from the end of a rope off the edge of a mountain again. I discovered that I do have a fear of heights after all.”
Sam laughed. “That’s not the best time to make that discovery. The Sierra Nevadas? That’s serious backcountry.”
“It is. You know, Sam, not all doctors spend their free time on the golf course or tennis courts.”
“I just thought that you medical types were protective of your hands. So, what type of fishing do you do?”
“I prefer fly fishing. It’s great out west. Here in the east it’s hard to find secluded places, and the rivers are so narrow here, it makes it more difficult. It was a treat to spend that time out west, in the solitude.”
“When were you out there?”
“About two years ago. I went between tours to Afghanistan.”
“You went over twice?”
“Yes,” Kris replied.
“Why? I thought they rotated you folks.”
“They do. I volunteered to go back over. There were some folks who didn’t want to go. It made me mad. Some of these guys sign up and are all macho. You know, like, I’m a military doctor, blah, blah, blah, but when the shit hits the fan they want to back out. Most aren’t like that, but even one is more than enough. I volunteered to go back over. I thought I could make a difference, especially since I had been through it before.”
You’re not like I thought. Sam smiled. “You’re not afraid to get down and dirty. I like that. I figured you for a Zumba dancing vegan.”
It took Kris a good fifteen seconds to stop laughing. “Really? Well, what do you like to do for fun?”
Sam waited to answer while the waitress put the pepperoni and mushroom pizza in front of them. “Do either of you gals need a refill?”
“Yes, please,” They answered simultaneously.
When the waitress walked away, Kris spoke, “You were getting ready to tell me what you like to do.”
Sam spoke while she slid slices of pizza onto the plates. “Well, I like to ski, downhill and water. I had a boat, but I sold it before heading over to the desert. There was no sense in continuing payments, insurance and storage on it when it was just going to sit around.”
“That’s smart.”
“I like camping and hiking too. I went up to Denali twice. I was hoping to through hike on the Appalachian Trail, but that was going to be after retirement.” Sam shrugged. “That’s crossed off the list now.”
“That’s not necessarily true. The technology in some of the prosthesis is amazing. Just look at what the athletes in the Paralympics do. They’re skiing, kayaking, running. It may not happen this year or even next year. As your strength returns and you get used to the prosthesis, I think you’ll be amazed at what you’ll be able to do.”
“I hope so.” Sam touched her pizza with her finger before lifting the slice, “I can’t believe you’ve never had pizza here before.”
“Well, I know the places closer to my house. This is closer to the airfield correct?”
“Yes. We’re about five miles from the gate.” Sam took a bite. “I actually dreamed of this pizza a couple times when I was in the desert.” Kris laughed. “Wait ‘til you try it. Besides let’s face it, the chow hall leaves a lot to be desired.”
“So, did you dream about a beer to wash it down with?”
“Not that I recall. The sweet tea here is fantastic.”
“A true southern girl.”
“Born and raised. Chattanooga.”
“I thought I detected just a hint of magnolia in your voice. So, southern girl, why aren’t you drinking sweet tea?”
“I figure since I’m not quite as active I should cut out the extra calories.”
Kris reached out and touched Sam’s arm. “I think you’re safe from getting heavy. You may not feel like you’re doing a lot, but trust me, your body is burning through those calories while you heal. And I know therapy is working you hard.”
“That’s for sure.” Sam took another bite. “I really love this sauce. Tangy. It has some zip to it. It’s not sweet, like the chain pizza places.”
Kris took a bite and chewed. “Oh, that is good. You’re right. It’s bold.” She took another bite, “I understand why you would dream of this pizza. It’s a big step up from MRE’s.”
“Indeed.” They both thanked the waitress when she returned with their drinks. Sam grinned broadly. “I did get some good news today.”
“What’s that?”
“I should get my permanent prosthesis in a few weeks, and I’ve been medically cleared so I can move out of the medical barracks.” Sam’s body lightened as she shared her news and she felt calmer than she had in several weeks. “I already signed a lease, and the landlord agreed for me to make some cosmetic changes to the house. I have to hire a handyman to install some things I need, handrails and a shower seat.” Sam shrugged a shoulder, “I told the landlord I would do it, but he wants them professionally installed. At first, I thought he was being condescending, thinking because I was an amputee that I didn’t have the skills. But it’s more of a liability factor.” She grinned. “I’ll be able to move in about five weeks.”
Kris patted Sam’s hand. “That’s great. Congratulations. I know you were looking forward to it.”
A subtle warmth spread through her arm with Kris’ touch and lingered after Kris removed her hand. “I am.” She paused to wipe her mouth. “I found a place in town to convert my car to hand controls, so I can drive again. I’ve been checking online, trying to get an idea of what was involved with the conversion process and how much it costs. The price was reasonable, in line with what other areas charge. I’ll have
to go back to the motor vehicle department, and I can say I am looking forward to that day. I don’t even care if it’s crowded and I have to wait.”
“When will it be done?”
Sam grinned. “I’m third on his list, so about two weeks. Hopefully, I’ll be cleared by medical to give it a try.”
“Let me know. I’ll help you get your car to the shop. That way you won’t have to pay the pick up or a towing fee.”
“Thanks. That would be great. I’m starting to feel like things will work out.”
“They will. Just keep at it.” They each had another slice while they talked about other places they’d traveled to. Eventually, the waitress came by and boxed up the remaining slices of pizza.
“Any place else you want to go?”
“You’ll get your stamina back, it just takes a while.” A few minutes later Kris dropped Sam off near the medical barracks.
“You’ll get your stamina back, it just takes a while.”
Sam watched as Kris drove off. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Who would’ve thought we’d have so much in common?
***
Sam sat at the table sipping her second beer, around her the mating ritual was under way. Young butches eyeing the femmes, circling the dance floor, watching and waiting. Lights flashed, stale cigarette smoke filled the room and the air conditioner failed to keep up with the heat rising from the hot bodies gyrating to the music. A local band with a screeching lead singer, and a guitarist who couldn’t keep on the beat entertained, or at least amused.
Sam was eyeing a luscious blonde when her view was blocked. She looked up and into intense blue eyes. The owner of those eyes stopped her breath. Her sundress revealed firm, toned arms and smooth skin. Her medium brown shoulder length hair swung free and framed her face. As she smiled, her glossy lips parted to reveal perfect teeth and a broad smile that reached her eyes.
“Hello, would you mind if I shared your table? It’s so crowded.”
“Not at all.” Sam gestured to the chair across from her. The woman sat down and placed her wine on the table. She glanced around the room and back to Sam.
