by Alison Mello
“I’d been having nightmares for a while, but I told Patty about them and they stopped. It’s like I was stressing over her knowing and the stress was causing them, but when I got it off my chest it went away. I had promised her if they came back, I would get help.”
“Let me guess. When she ran out on you, they came back.”
I look out the window because now I feel like I’m talking to the doctor again. To be honest, I’m not sure if they came back because of the alcohol or the stress of her leaving me.
“Look at me, Carter.” I turn my head to look at her because there’s no way I’ll disrespect my mother. “What brought them back?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I drank so much from the night she ran out on me until you guys got to the house. A lot of things are a blur.” She nods as she sits there, listening to me talk.
I yawn, and she says, “Get some rest. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up. I brought you some snacks, and we’ll have them in a little bit.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I close my eyes. In a matter of minutes, I’m out again.
***
I sit up in bed again, panting, but this nightmare was different. This time, my nightmare had nothing to do with overseas, which is weird. It was all Patty. For the first time since that Saturday night, when she left me standing in that foyer, I’m replaying the night in my nightmares.
“Are you ready to talk?” Dr. Cardoza asks me.
“Jesus, what is it with you and Derek creeping up on me?” I roll my eyes and shake my head as he pulls his chair up alongside my bed. “I guess I’m ready. But first, I’d like to know how you’re going to make these go away.”
“You have to talk about them,” he says like it’s a simple thing.
“That’s it, just talk about them?” I say, ready to call bullshit on him.
“Well, that and figure out what triggers them. It’s different for everyone. For some people, alcohol triggers them and for others, it’s stress and certain situations. From my experience, if we can get you to understand why you’re having them, they should stop.”
“I need them to, Doctor Cardoza. I’m tired of waking up freaking out, not knowing what’s real or in my head.”
“What are the nightmares about? Are they all the same?”
“No. Typically, in my nightmares, I’m back in the desert and I’m losing Brody all over again, or they’re of some close call missions I led, but lately they’ve been different.”
“Okay. Well, why do you think you have the nightmares of losing Brody?”
I look at him like he’s crazy. How the hell would I know? I stop to think about it and go through that day in my head all over again. It was a day we weren’t prepared for. We were caught off guard. We were attacked on our way to a mission and never made it there. I look up, and I can see him watching me as I have this internal debate.
I sigh. “Probably because I wish I could have saved him. Brody and I had served together from the beginning, and he died while lying in my arms on the ground. His last thoughts were of our men and making sure we got home safe. He died, and I got shot in the knee. I’m lucky they were able to save my leg.” I can’t even look him in the eye. I stare down at the white hospital blankets as I remember more details from that day. It’s like it’s a movie screen and I can see it playing out in front of me.
Calmly, he says, “Tell me about the day Brody died in as much detail as you can remember.”
When I look up I can see sincerity and pain from all he’s witnessed in his eyes, and that’s when I know he’s been in my shoes. He knows this isn’t going to be easy.
Looking back down at the bed, I begin the story.
“We thought it was going to be a day like any other. We had a mission. It was a security inspection, and we set out in the early morning. We knew the roads were tough. We were worried about roadside bombs, not an ambush. As we were approaching a hill, our convoy came to a screeching halt. Brody was lead car and I was in the third and final car. I remember Brody’s voice over the radio. He told me that we had trouble, and I asked him to talk to me. He didn’t have to say another word after that. We were surrounded by guys running up on us. We all grabbed our weapons and started picking them off one at a time. We took out quite a few of their men, but we were sitting ducks. We had no cover except for our vehicles. When Brody jumped from his car, the drivers all started to form a wall with the cars, hoping to help us, but as soon as he was out, he was hit. I saw him go down and screamed for a medic as I ran to his side, but I collapsed. I hadn’t even realized I had been hit until after Brody was gone. That’s when I noticed the medic working on my leg. While they were working on me, an air strike had been called in. A chopper flew overhead, picking off the remainder of their guys. It was too late. Brody was gone.”
I look up at him, and for the first time I cry. “He was my boy, and now he’s gone.” I wipe my tears as I look out the window.
“Don’t be ashamed of the tears, Carter. You lost someone you care about, and you watched him die. It’s a horrible thing. I need to ask you something, though. Did you neglect Brody in any way that day? Did you tell him to jump out of the vehicle when he did?
“No.”
“Did you shoot him?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then stop blaming yourself for his death. You didn’t do anything wrong, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. It was his time, and as tragic as it was, there is nothing you could have done differently to prevent it.”
“Is that supposed to make it easier?”
“Nope, nothing makes it easier. Hopefully, when you’re ready, you’ll hear what I said and stop blaming yourself. You care about the people around you, but you can’t save everyone. You’re only one person.” He stands up and hands me my journal. “Maybe do some writing. Think about what I said today, and we’ll talk more again tomorrow. I want to hear how the nightmares have changed.”
I nod and open my journal as he walks out the door. As I’m writing, I realize that I’m feeling a little better now that I’ve told someone about that day. My line has always been that I didn’t want to relive that, or that I don’t want to right now, but I don’t have that option anymore.
***
It’s been two days since the good doctor has been here, but I’ve been told he’s coming today. I have my journal ready, and today we’re going to talk about my nightmares that involve Patty.
Last night was the first night that I slept through and didn’t wake with a nightmare. I’ve had visitors, including my big boss, Tobey. He runs the Veterans Affairs offices for the entire state. This dude is huge and scares the shit out of me.
In a joking tone, he says to me, “Kid, if you don’t get out of this hospital, I’m going to kick your ass myself.”
I chuckle and tell him I’m working on it. My parents happen to walk in as he’s getting ready to leave.
“Listen,” he says. “A lot of us have been in your shoes. Get better so you can get back to work helping the other soldiers who are suffering like you.”
He turns to my parents and says, “Good day.” Then he walks out the door.
My mom hands me a bagel with cream cheese and a coffee. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.” I wink at her as I take a bite.
My father puts his hand on my shoulder. “Well, you’re in a much better mood today.”
“I slept really well last night, and Dr. Cardoza is supposed to be here today so I can have another round of clearing my head with him.”
“That’s great, son. Have you heard from Patty anymore?”
I shake my head. “I don’t blame her. I’m sure she’s at the lake house burying herself in work. Part of me wants to text her, but I really want to be in a good place when I do.”
“Don’t stress over it. She told you she’ll be waiting when you’re better, so wait until you are.”
Dr. Cardoza walks into my room. He greets me with a warm smile. “Well, well, yo
u look a lot better since I last saw you.”
“That’s because I got some sleep last night.”
He nods. “Good to hear, and how are you doing with food? I see you have a bagel today.”
“Yeah, I’m doing pretty well. I kept all my food down yesterday. I still have a bit of a stomach ache, but the doctor said that should go away in time.”
My dad says, “Come on, Mia. Let’s let him have his session, and we can come back tonight with dinner for him.”
“Thanks, Mom and Dad.”
He winks at me as he takes my mom’s hand and walks her out the door.
“Sorry I couldn’t make it in sooner. I had some emergencies to deal with, but if I recall we left off at your nightmares changing.”
“Yeah, they went from being about Brody to rescue missions. In the mission, I was told I was going to rescue some civilians, but when I got there I found Patty. Sometimes she’s held by terrorists and sometimes by Ben. What really threw me, though, was the last nightmare. It was about the night she left me at the fundraiser, the night that triggered all of this.”
“Okay. Tell me about the night she left you.”
I go into all the details of that night. I fill him in on who Ben is and how we don’t trust him. I also fill him in on the situation with her mother. I don’t know what she has against me, but she really doesn’t want us together and I know she set this up. Why else would she be laughing as her daughter walked out, devastated?
“So, what triggered the nightmare?” The doctor asks with a grin.
“I knew you were going to ask that, so I started thinking about it yesterday. I think it’s because I love her and I miss her. I screwed up how I handled the situation, and I’m beating myself up for it. I already wrote to her about it in my journal.”
“Great. Now you need a plan to fix it.”
“I need you to let me out of here before I can do that.”
He laughs. “Nice try, but you’re not quite there yet. How did you feel after our last session?”
“At first I was embarrassed because I broke down over the loss of my friend, but then I realized that you were right and it wasn’t fair for me to put so much pressure on myself. I started to write again, and by the time I was done, I felt good.”
“Good. So what does that tell you?”
I shrug. “When I’m struggling with something, write it out.”
“Sure. It seems to work for you, and if that doesn’t help, call me.”
“Great. When can I get out of here?”
“Soon. First we have to get the okay from your doctor, and I think we need a few more sessions before you go. You need to have more consistent nights without nightmares before I let you out.”
***
I’ve had four nights of restful sleep in the hospital, and I’m feeling great! I tried to convince the staff to let me use the hospital’s physical therapy area as part of my treatment, but they wouldn’t let me. They said that area is for PT patients only. I need to get back to working out. That’s helped a lot since I’ve been home.
“Good morning!” I hear from the door as my doctor walks in to check me over. I haven’t had a stomach ache in two days, and I’m eating normal foods again.
After he does his check-up, he says, “You’re doing great. If the counselor gives the okay, I can release you tomorrow.”
“Seriously?”
He laughs. “I’m dead serious, but listen, son. You need to take care of yourself. I’m not a vet, but I’ve seen a lot of traumas come through these doors. You have good people around you who really care. Take care of yourself, and if you need more help, seek it. You’re a hero. Don’t make yourself a victim.”
“Thanks, doc.”
He shakes my hand and tells me he’ll see me soon.
About ten minutes later, Dr. Cardoza walks in and says, “Hey. So, I heard that it’s up to me whether you break out of this place or not.”
“Yup, and I’m really hoping you’ll set me free.”
He laughs. “How’d you sleep last night?”
“I slept fine. Still no nightmares.”
“Okay. I’m going to make a deal with you. I’m going to release you, but you need to see me once a week for a little while longer. I feel like we need to work on your stress management so you don’t relapse.”
I started to panic slightly at the word relapse. “What if I do relapse? What if I leave here and they come back?”
“Relax. First of all, I don’t think they will. I think you’ve made great progress. We’ve talked about your nightmares and how to handle the drinking. As I told you before, I don’t really think drinking is an issue for you, but if you start to feel like it is, talk to me about it.”
I take a deep breath and nod my head, taking in everything he’s saying to me.
“Are you going to do as we discussed about giving Patty my number?”
“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea. I’m also going to add you to the list of people who are allowed up to my place without question, so if there ever is an emergency you’ll be let in.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“I do. I feel better knowing that someone other than my parents can get to me if need be. I don’t plan on ever doing that again, but it’s like a security thing.”
He sticks out his hand to me and, with laughter in his voice, says, “I’ll see you next week, and if you don’t show, I’ll go to your house and hunt you down.”
“Thanks, Doctor Cardoza. Sorry I was a dick in the beginning.”
He laughs again and says, “You all are, but I know I’m not the enemy. Now, let me go sign your paperwork so you can get out of here.”
I snag my phone and quickly send a text to my father.
Carter: Can you bring my Jeep to the hospital? I’m being discharged today or tomorrow.
Dad: Way to go son! I will have it there soon.
Carter: Thanks for everything Dad!
Chapter 7
Patty
I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve heard from Carter. The only word I’ve received from him was the text message he sent me saying he was working on it and thanking me for not giving up. It makes me so happy to know that he’s getting the help he needs to be healthy again and that he still wants to be a part of my life. I miss him and his muscular body and his hazel eyes. The bright gleam in them was gone the last time I saw him. It was like his light was out and he was a ghost of a man. He wasn’t the Carter I fell in love with. That vision has haunted my nightmares, but I have to admit it helps to know that he’s doing something to get better, even if I don’t know how they’re helping him or when I’ll see him again.
I’ve spent a lot of time here thinking about us and all the things we’ve done together in the short time we’ve known each other. When we met for the first time at that fundraiser and he rescued me from Ben, we clicked right away. It was like we’d known known each other for years. I don’t know if it’s because our parents are such good friends, but we seriously just work together.
I’ve been trying to come up with a plan for what to do if I don’t hear from him soon. I’ve contemplated going back on my word and visiting him in the hospital, or maybe I should text Derek and ask him to check in with Carter for me, but I really want Carter to know that I miss him and love him. I wonder if he’ll respond if I text him again.
I’ve also spent a lot of time working on my book. I sent a few more chapters to my agent, Joan, and I only have about three more to write and the book will be done. Getting such a large chunk of the book from me made Joan quite happy. I’m hoping she’ll be satisfied for a little while because I need some time while I’m here to sit and relax.
Bella came last week to visit, and that helped me relax a bit too. She brought the usual facial creams, and we watched movies and ate junk food while she filled me on what little Derek would tell her about how Carter is doing. He really hasn’t told her much more than I already knew. She told me he was in the hospital get
ting counseling and working on building his strength up from the binge he was on, the one where he hadn’t eaten for a few days and just kept filling his stomach with scotch.
She filled me in on her and Derrick’s dating situation. From what she said, things are going well between them. They’ve been seeing more of each other, and she let it slip that she and Derrick are going together to the Thanksgiving dinner Carter and I are hosting. I smile when I think of her little slip until I realize I’m not sure that the dinner will even be possible. Thanksgiving is in a week and a half, and I haven’t even spoken to Carter, let alone fixed things with him.
I hope that he’ll call me and come home soon. If I don’t hear from him this weekend, then I’m going back to the house and I’ll text him to let him know I’m there instead of here. It’s killed me to not send him another message, but I told him when I left the hospital that he needed to come see me when he was ready, and I need to stand my ground on that.
The clock chimes, telling me that it’s now six o’clock. I stroll into the kitchen to heat up my leftover pasta from the other night. I’ve developed a routine of going through my Facebook newsfeed while I eat. There really isn’t much else to do up here by myself. I notice a reminder that I have a blog post I need to put up for an author friend of mine. We often support each other with blog posts about new releases or online cover reveal parties. I type up the blog post, inserting her buy links as well as some pictures she’s sent me in her media kit. Once I’m satisfied with the way it looks, I hit the submit button and the post goes live. I close the top of my laptop and take the last few bites of my dinner.
I’m about to get up to rinse my plate and place it in the dishwasher when there’s a pounding on the door. I scream, and before I can respond the door flies open. Ben and one of his friends come plowing through the door.
