The Long Way Home

by Roslyn Bane

  “This crowd gets younger and younger all the time.”

  Sam was intrigued by her bright blue eyes. “It seems like it. I don’t think I was ever that young though.”

  When a hip-hop song came on the woman sighed. “How can they dance to this? What’s wrong with a song that encourages you to dance as a couple with your hands on each other?”

  Sam leaned forward. “Like what?”

  “I know this is a lot earlier than my time, but what’s wrong with some classic like ‘Hold Me, Thrill Me?’”

  “Johnny Mathis or Mel Carter?” Sam asked as she smiled.

  The woman broke into a broad smile, “Mel Carter.” She took a long sip of her wine, and Sam motioned to the waitress for a refill of both their drinks.

  When a slow song came on, Sam held out her hand, “Care to dance?”

  “I’d love to.”

  The DJ kept the music slow for the next few songs. Sam was amazed and how well they moved together. When the DJ picked up the tempo, and the dance floor once again became crowded they stayed on the floor and continued to dance. It wasn’t long before their close body contact had them both aroused.

  The woman held out her hand, “Sam, come with me.”

  Sam hurried while she was pulled along, they pushed through a door that Sam had not previously noticed and were in a back hallway. The woman turned and jerked Sam toward her, wrapping her hands around Sam’s head and pulling her forward in a hard, passionate kiss.

  A quick punch of desire jolted Sam. Instantly aroused she pushed the woman back against the wall, and slid her hands down over her full breasts. Sam nipped the woman’s bottom lip then soothed it with gentle flicks of tongue.

  Moans filled her ears and emboldened her more. No longer thinking rationally and not afraid of being discovered Sam brushed her hands along her collarbone, found the sundress straps and pushed them down. She tugged the top of the dress lower freeing breasts. Sam paused momentarily to appreciate the most beautiful pair of breasts she had ever seen, before she lowered her mouth to them. Strong hands pushed against her head, driving her into that wonderful cleavage further. Sam shifted and ran a hand down across a firm, slender thigh, and then lifted it over her arm.

  Sliding her hand along smooth skin, Sam groaned with pleasure when she realized there were no panties covering the firm butt. She slid her hand further and discovered the woman was soaked, her sex hot and slick. Running her hand across her vulva, Sam slowly teased her folds apart before penetrating her, sliding two fingers in. Her thumb teased around the woman’s clit and groans filled the air. The scent of their arousal grew thick. Their kiss grew more frantic as Sam stroked into the woman. Nails racked down Sam’s back, biting into the skin. The woman arched and screamed, as voices came from over Sam’s shoulders. Sam froze momentarily, and after a few seconds of confusion reached out and slapped at the radio alarm silencing the DJ’s morning banter. “God dammit!” Sam sat up in bed, rubbed her hands over her face and groaned in frustration. Two more seconds and she would have orgasmed in her sleep. Where the hell did that dream come from? And why did the woman seem vaguely familiar?

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “HOW IS YOUR ARM doing?” Renee asked.

  Kris looked at it and smiled. “It’s moving well and getting stronger.” She wiggled her fingers, clenched her fist and finally rolled her wrist around. “It seems odd that my brain could shut off my arm like that. It was a conversion reaction.”

  Renee sat back. “In part. In conversion reactions, there is no physical injury only the mental one from a traumatic event. You do have a physical injury, and that will improve with therapy and time. You were hurt emotionally when you lost a child that was special to you. Shortly after that, you had to do a necessary procedure on a patient that on some level violated your oath of ‘to do no harm,’ because you couldn’t properly anesthetize her. Even though you had done amputations before, this one was different. This time, the patient was awake. I expect you’ll continue to progress with your therapy now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re not back operating within the next few weeks.”

  “That’s good. I’m left handed. And a one-armed surgeon isn’t good for a lot.”

  “There’s more to you than your surgical skills.”

  “I know. Surgery is what I’m paid to do, and that’s what I need to get back to.”

  “I understand. Kris, you’re aware that they will reintroduce you to the operating room slowly. You’ll have to assist on some cases. They’ll watch to see how you do.”

  “Yes, I’ve thought of that. I understand that it’s for the safety of the patients. I was able to arrange some time in the procedure lab at one of the medical schools up in Raleigh. I think it will help me get back up to speed and see what my limitations are.”

  “Good. If you want to talk about it as it gets closer, or at any time, let me know.”

  Kris hesitated for a moment, “Would it be possible to find out where the major is and how she’s doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’d like to know if she’s doing all right. I don’t know anything about her or where she’s from. She had many injuries, and her face was swollen and bloody. I remember that the whites of her eyes had hemorrhaged. I think I said last week her hair was black but it may have been brown. There was a little peeking out from her helmet. I keep remembering a little more each day, and it’s not as upsetting. I don’t remember getting hurt. It had to happen around that same time, correct?”

  “I think that’s a reasonable assumption. I think as time passes you’ll remember additional details. Some will be important, like to, but I need to get home others not so much. Write them down in your journal, if you wish. If anything surprises you or leaves you unsettled call me and we can discuss it.”

  “All right,” Kris replied, feeling good about the session so far.

  “How is your relationship with your…ah, partner?”

  “Why do you ask?” Kris was instantly cautious.

  “Re-integration comes with family difficulties frequently. You’ve done two tours over there. You’ve seen things and are injured. That takes an emotional toll on the family too.”

  What is she getting at?

  “What are you thinking about?” Renee asked.

  “I…I wonder what you know about me? I wonder what’s in my medical file? I’ve never looked.”

  “Relax Kris. It doesn’t say anything about your sexual orientation in your medical file. I saw you at the Pink Flamingo a couple of years ago. I knew you looked familiar, it took me some time to place you.”

  Kris studied her. “I didn’t realize…”

  “What, that I’m gay? Well, it’s not like I go around with a sign on my forehead that says lesbian on it. Neither do you.”

  “But I usually—”

  “Oh yes, the gaydar. Well, it’s probably off right now while you heal. You’ve been through a lot and are still healing. I’m sure it will turn back on eventually.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Kris was silent for several seconds, before she blurted out, “It bothers me…my breast. I don’t feel…feminine. Don’t get me wrong I’m much more concerned with my arm, getting it strong again. And with getting rid of these flashbacks as much as possible. But my breast…does it make sense if I say it feels more personal?”

  “It certainly does. It’s a more intimate injury. Your breast is covered most of the time. You see it when you bathe, dress or when you’re being intimate.”

  “Shelly, my partner, dislikes it. I do too.”

  “How does she demonstrate that?”

  “She generally won’t…uh…touch it. Or if she does, well, it’s not so enjoyable for me.”

  “She’s rough with it?”

  “Yes.” Kris shifted in her seat.

  “And have you told her she’s hurting you?”

  “Yes. But she forgets. She gets caught up in the moment.”

  “Is she rough…” Renee cleared her throat, “Is s
he as rough on the other side?”

  “It doesn’t seem like it.” Kris thought for a few seconds. “No. She definitely isn’t.”

  “Have you asked her to stop or to be more careful?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there any other way she shows her dislike for your injury?”

  Kris was silent and looked away. Focusing out the window, she tried desperately to keep control of her emotions. Her throat tightened and her eyes filled. She brushed her fingers under her eyes catching the tears as they started to fall.

  “Kris?”

  Kris shuddered, and bent forward covering her chest. “She…she called me Frankentit.” She cried quietly, fighting to keep some control of her emotions. It took several minutes, but she regained some control. Using tissues from the ever-present tissue box, she dried her face and cleared her throat several times. “I guess when you think about it, it is funny.”

  “Do you think it’s funny? Do you like her saying that?”

  “No. Not at all.” She sniffed.

  “Is there any other way she shows dislike for your appearance?”

  “We don’t shower together anymore. Lately, she’s even wanted me to stay covered when we’re…intimate. Recently we stopped sleeping together.”

  “How does that make you feel?”

  “Hurt. But now talking about it, seeing it all put together like this, it makes me mad. She keeps asking about the reconstruction. I’ve told her several times that it’d be several months before it can start, maybe even a year.”

  “And how does she react?”

  “She wants me to get a second opinion. She thinks the military is drawing it out.”

  “Do you?”

  “No. Not at all. I understand the healing stages and dangers.”

  “Kris, I have to ask you, are you thinking about the reconstruction for yourself or for your partner?”

  “Both.”

  “How has Shelly reacted to your arm injury?”

  “She gets a little frustrated. I do too. It takes longer to do everything. But now that my movement is coming back and I’m able to do some things with it, things will get better,” Kris said hopefully.

  “Has she hurt your arm?”

  “She has pulled it several times, when the brace was off.”

  “Kris, I have to ask you this. Are you in a safe relationship? Do you feel safe in your home?”

  Kris hesitated. Do I? If Shelly comes home drunk again will I be safe? She needs help. It’s the alcohol. Or work. Or something. Aware of the long silence Kris answered, “Well, yes. Of course, I do.”

  “If things get worse, or Shelly refuses to change, do you have a safe place to go?”

  “This is ridiculous,” Kris huffed.

  “Answer the question, Commander.”

  “Yes, I feel safe in my home. Yes, I have some place I could go if I felt I was in danger,” Kris said, the discipline back in her voice.

  “Good.” Renee reached over and took a business card from the table. She scribbled on the back. “Here is my card. My cell number is on the back. If you need to talk or get away for a little while call me. Any time. I mean it. Call me if you need help.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kris drove home taking the long route, replaying the conversation from the afternoon. Renee was right. Her relationship was bordering on abusive. No. It had become abusive. When had that started? More importantly, why was she tolerating it?

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  KRIS KNOCKED ON THE door frame and stuck her head in. “Aunt Kat?”

  Dr. Katherine Matthews looked up. “Kris, it’s so good to see you.” She came around her desk and hugged Kris. “Let me look at you. Oh, you’ve lost weight. How’s your arm? When your father called and said you’d been hurt, I was scared. Finally you got to Bethesda and your parents were able to visit. We finally got details. Thank God, you’re getting better.”

  Kris saw sympathy cross her aunt’s face. “I’m doing as well as can be expected. I’ve actually picked up a few pounds. I had lost some weight over there. Therapy is going well.” She lifted her arm overhead. “It’s weak, but I have great movement, and my finger dexterity is coming back.” She wiggled her fingers.

  “I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me about your counseling sessions. I think what we have planned out is going to be beneficial. I would love to sit down and have dinner with you, but I know that you want to get to the lab right away. In your situation, I would too. Let’s go. I’ll need to stay with you because of security reasons.”

  “I understand.”

  They walked to a locker room and changed quickly into scrubs. They walked the short distance to the lab and hesitated at the door. “You wanted to start with an adult?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have one picked out. Several procedures have already been done on this specimen. The abdomen has been untouched so you can do the procedures you want to.”

  “Thank you.”

  They slipped on surgical garb and walked to the table.

  “My pleasure, Kris. When the medical school admin heard that a military surgeon had been injured and was trying to get back into the operating room, they backed the idea of giving you lab time. The hospital board approved it too. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Katherine pulled the drape back on the cadaver. Kris took a moment to look at the deceased, and then picked up the scalpel.

  ***

  The next morning Kris stood silent, trying to control the shake in her hand as she stared down at the child cadaver. Sweat poured down her back. I can do this. Breathe. Take a minute. Get a hold of yourself. Come on. Focus. Think about what you need to do. Deep breath, in and out.

  “Kris? Come on, step back. It’s all right.”

  Kris looked up and saw the compassion in her aunt’s eyes. “No. I can do this.” She took a deep breath, held out her hand, “Scalpel.”

  Two hours later Kris sat in her aunt’s office sipping on juice. “Overall I think that went well. I had a little problem with the child at first.”

  “You recovered well. You stayed calm and thought about what needed to be done. So far you’ve done eight procedures. Is there anything else you want to do?”

  Kris nibbled at a sandwich. “Can we do rounds?”

  “I was able to get you visiting physician privileges so we can. Let’s finish lunch and go see my patients. I don’t think anything will be as exciting as what you’ve had over the last year.”

  “It’s all important, Aunt Kat.”

  “That’s true.”

  ***

  Two hours later Kris stood outside the children’s wing and wiped sweat from her brow. Dear God, children can smell fear. The longer I was in there, the worse it was. I have to get better with kids. Kris looked up when her aunt emerged from the children’s rooms. “It’s okay, Kris. You did well. I know you don’t think so, but you did. Especially with Bobby. He’s a pistol, always challenging the staff and generally causing havoc. What do you say we call it a day, go soak in the hot tub, and you can get me up to speed on what else is going on? Afterward, we’ll go someplace nice for dinner tonight.”

  “That sounds good. Aunt Kat? Thanks again for getting this arranged for me. I know you had to call in some favors.”

  “My pleasure. It’s a joy to see you work.”

  ***

  Kris pulled into the driveway, and looked at the car parked in front of the house. It looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Perhaps one of the neighbors had a new car. She went down to the mailbox and retrieved the mail, glancing through it; she realized it was nothing but junk mail. She went into the house, pausing momentarily to put her bag in the closet. She was halfway to the kitchen, when she stopped suddenly, turned and listened. Her pulse quickened, a cold knot formed in her stomach and she turned to walk down the hall. She stopped outside the door listening, recognizing, and quietly opened the door. The mail fluttered to the floor as she watched, their
hurried grappling, their frantic violent kiss, their smell was thick in the air. “What the hell are you doing?” Kris shouted.

  They flew apart like thieves in the night. “Oh, shit!” The woman grabbed clothes from the floor and ran into the bathroom. Shelly pulled the sheet up covering herself.

  “It’s not—”

  “Do not even tell me it is not what I think! I know exactly what I saw! Get dressed and get that woman out of my house.” She struggled to control her voice, to not shriek in anger. She swallowed hard. “Now.” She stomped out of the room, stood at the kitchen entryway, and waited. The woman emerged and looked cautiously at Kris before she ducked her head and ran out of the house.

  Shelly emerged a few seconds later and Kris saw the anger in her eyes. But this time she wouldn’t cower in the face of Shelly’s temper. “How could you do this to me?” Kris shouted.

  “To you? Please. You’ve been gone more than you were here the last three years. You left me.”

  “I deployed! I was working. I didn’t have a choice.”

  Shelly snapped back, “Sure you did! You didn’t have to go back.”

  “I needed to go back. Christ, Shelly don’t you understand the concept of the military?”

  “I do. And it’s volunteer service. You could have gotten out.”

  “No, I couldn’t. Not yet. And I didn’t want to. They needed me over there.”

  “There are other doctors,” Shelly hollered.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “That’s exactly the point! You chose to go over. Did you even try to get your orders changed?”

  “That’s not how things work. You know that.”

  “Well, I know you sure as hell don’t put a priority on this relationship so why should I? For all I know you could have been fucking some hot nurse over there,” Shelly shouted.

  “What? God damn it Shelly, it’s not some freaking beach party. It’s a war zone.”

  “You mean to tell me no one is getting laid over there? No one is getting personal? Getting friendly?”