by Pandora Snow
"Sounds good to me," I reply. "Miss Cummings said to mention Frank didn't eat dinner. He wouldn't eat his toast this morning, either. His vitals are normal; maybe he's just extra tired.
"I know the feeling. Thanks," Everett says with a heavy sigh. There's more to his relationship with Michelle than he's letting on, and I'm afraid I may be to blame for the sudden awkward tension between them.
Frank's vitals are stable, so we jump in his jeep, his driving semi-aggressive. Should I mention I kissed her yesterday when I was drunk? He might throw me out of a moving vehicle. Maybe later.
Everett's anxiety skyrockets to red alert as he sees Michelle walking out of the gym. He pulls up close to her car and steps hurriedly in front of her to prevent her from leaving.
"Michelle, what's going on? I've been worried about you. Why haven't you returned my calls?"
Her panicked eyes are darting back and forth between Everett and me. He's quickly figuring out something happened between us yesterday.
"Did he make a pass at you, Michelle? Did he hurt you?" The story is becoming apparent as she blushes with embarrassment.
Bless her kindness and understanding; she actually apologizes for my bawdy actions. I don't deserve her compassion. I do deserve Everett's wrath, and it's heading straight for my face.
I stumble back onto the pavement, blood dripping from my nose. I want to say excellent punch, but his attention is focused on trying to stop Michelle from leaving. She peels out of the parking stall as he throws his fists against the vehicle.
Everett lets me have it, calling out my selfish behavior and hurtful actions. Everything he says is truth, a truth I needed to hear from a friend who can set me right. He offers me one more night on his couch and proceeds to channel his anger into the weight machines. We don't talk in the gym, or for the rest of the night.
I'm sorry my realization came at Everett's expense, but I know what I need to do when I get home tomorrow night. I need to take a stand for the life Rebecca and I have together. She's my fiancé and the mother of my child. I will fight to the end for her and earn back her faith and trust one day at a time.
CHAPTER TEN
My duffle is packed as I attempt to get Frank to eat his toast. I check his vitals one last time, studying his face carefully. My instincts tell me something's amiss.
"Frank, what's my name?" I ask, his right eye drooping slightly.
"Frank, what's my name?" I command, but he's not responding. A few incoherent syllables come from his mouth as his entire face begins falling before my eyes.
My phone dials 911 on speaker as I lay Frank back in the recliner, preparing for CPR.
"911, what's your emergency?" the operator asks.
"I'm with Frank Peterson on Millworks Drive. He's having a generalized stroke. Send an ambulance."
"Is he breathing, sir?"
"Barely, I'm administering CPR right now."
"I'll stay on the line until emergency services arrive."
I begin CPR, grateful Frank responds quickly. His pulse is erratic as I hear the blaring sirens growing louder in the background.
My phone dials Everett as the paramedics take over his care, transferring him to a portable gurney and strapping him in.
"Everett. Your Dad just had a mild stroke. Paramedics are here. I gave him CPR, and he's responding to my commands. I'll go with him in the ambulance. Meet us at Mercy General."
I disconnect the call and duck into the vehicle. "I'm a Combat Medic," I offer when the driver asks me who I am.
"Thank you, sir," he says as the doors are closed, and we speed away.
Within minutes, Frank is wheeled into emergency, several doctors waiting to attend to his condition. I explain what I witnessed to a surgeon, and he says he'll update me when a prognosis is determined.
Wow, I think to myself. After four years of witnessing trauma and death in Iraq, and suffering months of nightmares, I came through a real-life emergency. I stayed calm, and I took action. I saved a life today.
My head turns to the right, sensing Everett's presence. He's emotionally paralyzed, fear in his tear-filled eyes. I walk over and embrace him in a giant bear hug, dissolving the frustration and anger between us. I relay the ER doctor's information and lead him to a corner in the waiting room.
"How did you know?" he asks, still breathing heavily.
"Gut instinct," I tell him. "Michelle sensed he wasn't well yesterday and asked me to be extra vigilant with him. I'm sorry, Everett, I'm so sorry I screwed things up for you."
He reaches out to shake my hand, a strong firm "everything is forgiven" handshake.
"You saved his life, Drake, thank you. It looks like both of us needed a fire under our ass to get our heads straight with these beautiful women. Nothing matters more than the love of family. All is right between us."
Michelle will be here at any moment. Her number was in Frank's pocket. I saw her insert the card yesterday, wanting him to have her number close at hand. I took the liberty of calling her, even though this was entirely inappropriate. I let her know about his mild stroke and apologized again for my inexcusable behavior. She thanked me for calling and said she's ten minutes away.
I could feel the love they have for each other, even in the gym's heated exchange. Maybe I can right one small wrong by giving Everett what he needs most right now, the unconditional love of his forever girl. I excuse myself to the restroom, giving them the privacy they'll need when she arrives.
After several hours of waiting, the doctors tell Everett the prognosis is for a full recovery. He'll be kept in the hospital overnight as a precaution to help them determine if a change in medication is needed.
I offer to feed Everett's dog Barney before heading home, so they can have a night alone. I promise I'll keep him updated, and maybe even bring Rebecca to meet him in a few months. Michelle hugs me and wishes me well, a thoughtful gesture. The woman who's heart I'm meant to have and hold is four hours away. I love Rebecca Rose Martin. I'm returning a better man.
***
The house is dark as I return home, no sight of her mother's car. Perhaps she spent last night with her parents. I quietly unlock the front door, flipping the dim hallway light. The apartment is spotless, lemon scent drifting from the kitchen. I pad down the hallway, carefully opening the squeaky bedroom door.
My heart stirs with deep love and compassion. There she is. My beautiful Rebecca is sleeping in the middle of the bed, her arm curled around a group of propped up pillows, right where I sleep. I turn on the bathroom light and leave the door cracked open. I want to see her tender illuminated eyes as I wake her from slumber.
"Hey, baby," I breathe in a hushed tone against her lips, kneeling next to her side of the bed. She flutters her lashes, blinking her eyes open and closed several times as if to ensure I'm real.
"Drake," she whispers, beckoning me to lift her. The simple physical embrace breaks down the discord between us, releasing the hurt and disappointments to make room for the pure, honest love we share.
"I missed you so much," she whispers, throwing back the covers and moving her legs around my waist.
"God, Rebecca, I missed you too, more than humanly possible. I have so many apologies that need to be spoken. But first, how are you feeling? How's the baby?"
I bend gently down and kiss her stomach, speaking to the creation she's carrying inside. "Hey baby, it's Daddy. I promise to take good care of you and mommy every single day. I love you." Her falling tears reach my cheeks as I look up into her vulnerable eyes.
"I love you too, mommy," I say, moving forward to kiss her sleepy lips with every ounce of my being.
"Oh, Drake, I love you so much," she says between cherishing brushes of adoration.
"It's late. Take off your clothes and hold me. All I want and need is to be safe in your arms."
"Anything for you," I reply, removing my clothes and adjusting the pillows to slide my naked body between the sheets.
"Thank you, Rebecca. Thank you for giving me a s
econd chance to be your forever. I won't let you down, ever again."
"I know, Drake. Everything will work out; I'm sure of that."
Her confidence leaves me wondering what she's done in the two days I've been gone. Everett won't hesitate to drive up here and punch me to the floor if I screw up again. Leaning on my squad has given me the clarity to see the importance of our brotherhood. I’m surrounded by caring friends and family who love me and want to see me succeed. Rebecca’s optimism is contagious. Love always finds a way.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The lifeforce known as coffee wafts into my nostrils as I sit up, basking in the bright sunshine in the room, and my heart. Maybe if I’m quiet I can catch Rebecca in her skimpy robe.
"Good Morning, Drake," Mrs. Martin says as I round the hall into the kitchen.
"Good Morning," I reply in shock, realizing I'm naked. "Excuse me," I quickly stammer with red flushing cheeks, hearing her laugh as I retreat to the bedroom.
Let's try this again. "Good Morning, Mrs. Martin, lovely to see you.” I’m now fully clothed, including embarrassment.
"Sit," she says, setting down a coffee cup with heavy cream and a generous plate of eggs and bacon.
"Wow, thank you, Mrs. Martin. I'm starving." She smiles at my enthusiasm and takes a seat.
"Rebecca is already at work. I thought this would be a good time for you and me to reach a few agreements about your future plans."
I'm wary, but she made me breakfast, a damn delicious breakfast.
"Mr. Martin and I are very excited to hear the news of Rebecca's pregnancy. Her heart is bursting with pride to become a mother. We would like to offer our congratulations to both of you."
"Thank you, Maam. Rebecca's loving-kindness will ensure the baby we bring into the world will be cherished every single day."
"I wholeheartedly agree. Rebecca mentioned you recently lost your construction job. Do you have any prospects yet?"
Ok, not surprised; this is where the conversation is going. "Yes, Maam, I do. My friend, Private Chuck Baker, recommended me for a full-time position with a large construction firm. I have an interview in two days."
"That's wonderful to hear, Drake. Know that Mr. Martin and I aren't doubting your ability to provide for Rebecca. We all go through financial challenges. Even George and I struggled when we were young."
Her personal admission stuns me. They trust me enough to marry their daughter and raise our baby together. What an unexpected blessing.
"Mr. Martin and I want to make sure your engagement starts from a place of strength. I would like you to come over for dinner tonight and formally ask for Rebecca's hand in marriage. She doesn't know I'm requesting this of you. Neither does Mr. Martin. This is between us."
I set down my fork, astounded at the integrity and values Mrs. Martin is sharing with me. My emotional wavering voice says, "Of course, it's the right thing to do."
"Good, that's settled. Now, let's discuss the engagement ring."
She knows I don't have the funding for a ring. Where is this going?
"It would mean the world to George and me, and most importantly, Rebecca, if you would consider giving her my mother's ring. Rebecca has played with this ring since she was a little girl. She's dreamt of this moment, and we want to make sure it's absolutely perfect. Mr. Martin will approve."
My napkin is wiping what I think are tears from my eyes, humbled not only by the honorable gesture but by their acceptance of me into their family. I stand up and offer Mrs. Martin a hug, a warm, meaningful hug.
"Thank you. Your generosity is a blessing to both of us. I want nothing in life but to make Rebecca's dreams come true."
"Excellent then." She gets up from the table and picks up her purse.
"Welcome to the family, Drake. We're honored to have you."
She walks out the front door leaving me grateful beyond words. Nothing can stop us from living happily ever after. My pride and honor in my ability to take care of my family is reignited. Tonight will be unspeakably joyous.
As soon as Mrs. Martin leaves the driveway, I call Rebecca. "Good Morning, sunshine," my exuberant voice says. My grin is a mile wide.
"Good Morning, Drake. I'm sorry I had to leave early for work. I didn't have the heart to wake you." I walk into the bedroom as we're talking, inhaling the scent of lavender and fiancé on her pillow.
"I want to take you out for dinner this evening, nothing fancy, just a casual meal. Is that alright?"
"Of course it is. Since I came in early, I'll be home around four. My mom cleaned the apartment for us; she'll be happy to see you too, Drake."
"Yes, and I'll have my sincere apology waiting. See you later, beautiful."
"Bye."
I text Everett, asking about his Dad, and letting him know Rebecca forgave me. He says he's bringing Frank home in a couple of hours and knew things would work out.
He also orders me to give Matthis a call. He's been struggling with painful memories of war, too, and could use a friend. I promise to stay in touch and begin planning for this magically enchanted evening.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Where exactly are we going?" Rebecca asks as I take the exit towards her parent's house.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" I smile, holding her soft, delicate fingers in mine.
"Three times, but you haven't answered my question." She knows exactly where we're headed now, and is as excited as a little girl on Christmas morning.
We pull into the Martin's driveway, and she hugs me with glee. "Thank you, Drake. I appreciate you coming over to see my parents. They were worried about you too."
"I promised you I would apologize, and that's what I'm here to do. Sit still for a moment."
I walk around the car and reach in to unbuckle her seatbelt. I see the twinkling café lighting in the backyard and try my best to hide her eyes as I lift her from the seat and carry her to the front door.
"Good Evening, Drake, and my beautiful daughter," Mr. Martin says before I can knock.
"Hi Daddy," she says, offering him a joyful embrace. To think she's this excited over an apology. I can't imagine her reaction when the real show begins.
"Good Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Martin," I say as we walk into the dining room.
"Good Evening Drake. Rebecca, dear, could you help me finish up the dinner rolls?"
"Sure Mom," she says and bounces into the kitchen.
"May I have a word with you, Mr. Martin?" I ask, suddenly nervous if he'll be on board with the well-intentioned plan.
"Yes. Let's sit in my office." He walks me down the hall to a beautiful wood library with a large mahogany desk. Last time I was in the home, this was a spare bedroom.
He gestures for me to have a seat and waits patiently for me to begin.
"Mr. Martin, first let me apologize for my behavior the last week. I've been challenged dealing with PTSD symptoms and managing the stress of work. I stayed with a squad brother the last few days, and he set me right. I want you to know I am committed to Rebecca and our baby. I have a solid job opportunity and am hoping to have my therapy re-approved."
"Glad to hear that, Drake, I know life is challenging. You have friends and family who support you in all circumstances. We want nothing more than to see you succeed. If you need help paying for therapy, please let me know."
"Thank you, sir." Once again, the Martins have overwhelmed me with their compassion and approval.
"Mr. Martin. I love your daughter Rebecca more than life itself. I would like to properly propose to her this evening, and I'm asking for your blessing before I proceed."
He wipes a tear from his eye, triggering me to do the same. Honor and pride are woven throughout this family; my military training teaching me integrity and respect go hand in hand.
"Private Drake Scott, you have the permission of Mrs. Martin and me to marry our daughter. We will be honored to officially become part of your family."
"Thank you, sir," I say, watching him reach into a low
desk drawer and retrieve a small ornate box.
"This wedding band belonged to Rebecca’s grandmother. Would you do us the great honor of proposing to her with this ring? She's dreamt of this day since she was a tiny little girl."
I can't hold the emotion back any longer, standing up to give him a fatherly hug. "Thank you, Mr. Martin, thank you."
We hear Rebecca call for dinner as we walk back down the hallway. Mrs. Martin looks my way as we enter the kitchen. I subtly wink her direction, indicating the green light.
