“You’ll need to have semi-annual check-ups with an orthopedic specialist and find yourself a physical therapist to continue working on your knee and back,” Dr. Simmons says.
“Got it,” I say. I’m hoping to have one particular physical therapist around a lot.
“Well, if that will be all, I wish you the best of luck,” the doctor says.
I shake his hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Sheridan,” Dr. Simmons says and leaves the room.
I pick up a small gym bag that has pretty much everything I own and prop it on my shoulder. With my cane in hand, I head out of the room. Leaving this place feels good.
Quinn had wanted to pick me up, but he had something work-related to take care of and anyway, I need to get by on my own. I head down the elevator, saying goodbye to the hospital staff I’ve befriended during my stay.
Avery stands just inside the hospital doors, speaking with a patient. Our eyes meet and my heart melts. Soon. Soon we won’t have to hide.
We hold each other’s gaze. Her eyes say more than words ever could. They tell me I’m going to be okay. They tell me she’ll be by my side.
I turn away, not wanting to draw attention to us. I leave through the hospital doors and fresh, cool air hits my face. It’s daunting and exhilarating, scary and euphoric. It reminds me of all the times I left a foster parent and was transferred to another home. The unknown had been scary as a child. It’s scary now.
An Uber is waiting for me. He already has the address for the Airbnb I’ve rented for the next few weeks. It isn’t far from Avery’s aunt and uncle’s house, where I’ve been invited for dinner tonight.
My cell rings and Quinn’s name is on the screen.
“Hello.”
“Hey, man,” he says. “You out of the hospital?”
“Yeah, it feels good,” I admit as I unpack my clothes and familiarize myself with my new basement apartment.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asks.
“I’m seeing Avery for dinner at her house tonight. Going to meet her daughter,” I say heading into the small kitchen area which is modern and clean.
He snickers. “You sound nervous.”
“That’s ’cause I am,” I say. “I don’t know anything about kids.”
“You said she was a teenager. Just talk to her about regular stuff,” he says.
“And that would be . . .”
“School . . . sports. I don’t know. Just regular conversation,” he says.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Jackson told me you’re coming aboard,” he says.
“Told him I’ll be out there in one month,” I say.
“So you spoke to Avery and she’s cool with you leaving,” he says, but it sounds like a question.
“Not exactly. That’s why I need a month,” I say hesitantly.
“Dude, you’re asking for trouble. She has a kid she’s responsible for. She can’t just pick up and leave,” Quinn says.
“I haven’t thought it all through, but her daughter is going off to college,” I remind him.
“You said she’s a junior. That’s a year and a half away. A long fucking time,” he scoffs.
“I’ll figure it out, okay?”
“The job with Jackson is serious. You have to get security clearance and . . . let’s just say if you aren’t committed, you should tell him,” he says.
“I’m serious,” I assure him.
“Okay. I have a call coming in that I have to take. Laters,” he says.
“Later.” We end the call. And I head to the bedroom and lie back on the bed.
I’m driving in a Jeep. Sand dunes surround us. The wheels fight through the sand leaving behind a cloud of dust. We’re headed on a mission. Everyone is on high alert. I’m sitting by the window, Quinn beside me and Trevor beside him. A chinook sounds overhead and King gives me a nod. We are close to our location. The old run down two story buildings come into view.
“Something is wrong,” I say, the Chinook has changed direction.
“What?” King shouts, slowing down.
“Something . . .” A kid wearing shorts and a t-shirt with no shoes begins to wave at us. What the fuck? Something is going to happen. I shove Quinn out of the moving vehicle. “King, stop!”
I think I push Trevor and then there’s a blast and I’m catapulted out of the vehicle. My body smashes to the ground—crack, bang, boom. Fire erupts around me and smoke fills my lungs. I’m in the dirt and lift my head to see. My eyes feel gritty and it takes me time to focus.
When I do, I see King hunched over the wheel . . .flames lick along his spine. No. No. I need to get to him. He can’t die.
I cough. I try to stand up. Trevor, Quinn where are you? Sand fills my mouth. I don’t know if I’ve screamed their names. I squeeze my eyes shut ’cause they sting so bad. Turning on my stomach is nearly impossible. Pain cuts like a knife across my back and I can barely use my legs. Fuuuuck, it hurts so much. AHHHHHHHHH!
My eyes fly open. I’m breathing hard and drenched in sweat. My heart races at dangerous speeds. I had a couple dreams in the hospital, but none were as vivid as this one.
My therapist told me the dreams may come or I may be one of the lucky ones who don’t relive a nightmare.
It takes me time to get my bearings. When I do, I head to the washroom and shower. Then I put on a load of laundry. The image of King lying there helpless fills my mind. It’s like I can smell the smoke, feel the gritty sand between my teeth. Why is this happening now?
I take a few deep breaths. I want a drink to ease the anxiety I’m feeling, but I won’t go there. I won’t allow myself to turn into my mother. Instead, I head out into the freezing cold day. Walking to the corner store with a cane and a bad knee feels like a daunting task. I order an Uber. I’m a fucking mess. I try talking myself out of this anxiety, reminding myself I’m lucky to be alive. I’m lucky to have found Avery but why would she want to settle down with a broken man?
The Uber arrives and takes me to the larger supermarket. I buy some groceries for my place and two bouquets of flowers for Avery and her daughter. My head still feels cloudy with the remnants of my dream, and I try to clear it away unsuccessfully. Suddenly, dinner with strangers doesn’t sound like such a good idea. I’m a fucking mess.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bennett
A teenage girl opens the door with a smile so similar to her mom’s.
“Hi, you must be Bennett,” she says.
“Yes. Nice to meet you,” I say, passing her the flowers. Keep your shit together. The way I feel about Avery scares me. I’ve never felt this way before and because of that I need to be here. I want to meet her daughter and get to know her life even if mine is a mess.
“Thanks. That’s nice of you,” she says and takes a sniff. “Mom loves roses.”
She seems to be happy to meet me, which I’m taking as a good sign. “Come on in.” She waves me in. I take off my runners and follow her inside. “Mom just ran up to take a shower. Can I offer you a drink?”
“Do you have Coke?” I ask, feeling like I need a pick-me-up.
“No Coke in this house. Mom is a health freak. Is water okay?” she asks. I follow her into the kitchen area.
“That will do,” I say.
Jessy sets the flowers in a vase.
“So, how’s school?” I ask awkwardly.
She gives me a weird look, which only enhances how I’m feeling. “School is good. How does it feel to be out of the hospital? Mom said you were released today.”
“It feels weird. I don’t know. I guess it feels good,” I say.
“That’s nice,” she replies. I don’t think this is going well and I want to make a good impression on the kid.
She walks over to a kitchen cabinet and takes out plates. She sets five plates down.
“Can I help you with the cutlery?” I ask.
“It’s okay. I got it.” She smiles.
I hear the front door open. Jessy’s eye
s turn wide. “Must be Tom and Bee,” she says quietly.
“It’s okay. Your mom has told me a little about them,” I say.
“And you still wanted to meet them?” she asks, looking at me, perplexed.
“Yes,” I say. I want to understand the dynamic of Avery’s life. She and Jessy are a team. I don’t want to come between them but I sure as hell want to be a part of their little family. The thought is sobering. My dream from earlier feels less significant as my focus switches to Avery and her daughter’s wellbeing.
A tall man with dark hair lined with grey strands walks into the kitchen. He looks at me, nods, and extends his hand. “Tom.”
I reach out to shake his hand. “Bennett.”
“Oh, you must be Avery’s friend.” A middle-aged woman with long grey hair and a smile reaches out to shake my hand. “Nice to meet ya. I’m Bee.”
I shake her hand. “Bennett. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
We stare at each other awkwardly for a few beats when Avery walks into the kitchen. Her wet hair hangs over her shoulders. In a simple pink long-sleeve T-shirt and a pair of washed out jeans she takes my breath away.
“Hey Bennett. Sorry. I left work a little late. I’m running behind,” she says, leaning up and giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“No worries. I’m actually a little early,” I say taking in her scent. The tension I was feeling earlier leaves my body.
“Mom, Bennett brought us both flowers,” Jessy says, pointing to where the two vases sit on the kitchen table.
“They’re beautiful. How sweet of you,” Avery says, smiling to me. Her smile is warm and personal. It reminds me why I’ve fallen so hard, so fast for her.
“You’re welcome,” I say.
We stare at each other. A long beat passes and then Avery turns and begins to take some dishes out of the oven.
“Can I help with anything?” I offer.
“We got it covered,” Avery says and winks to Jessy.
Jessy stands by the counter, chopping a salad, while Avery puts some dishes on the table.
“Let’s sit down,” her aunt says, and I follow Avery to the table and wait for her to take a seat. She pats the chair beside her, so she is situated between me and Jessy. Her aunt and uncle sit across from us.
We begin to eat. Avery has made some tofu and chicken, Chinese style, along with a shrimp dish and a beef dish that has green peas.
“I don’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. Thanks so much for having me,” I say to Avery and her aunt and uncle. There’s a quiet tension around the table, an unease that feels all too familiar to me and reminds me of times when I arrived at a new foster home and ate the first meal. It was always so awkward. In most cases, that feeling stayed because the foster parents were in it for the money and didn’t care about parenting.
“My pleasure,” Avery says.
“Mom is a really good cook,” Jessy says.
“My nephew was a SEAL. Died way too young,” Tom says.
I don’t know why, but when Avery said she was living with family I’d thought it was hers, and not her deceased husband’s.
“I’m sorry. That’s tough,” I say.
“The boy never had a father. My sister raised him. Did the best she could,” Aunt Bee says.
“Aunt Bee, I don’t think this is the best time to speak of Liam,” Avery says politely.
She and Jessy give each other a WTF look.
I stay quiet.
“My sister had a hard time. Couldn’t take care of the boy herself,” Aunt Bee goes on.
Jessy and Avery stop eating their food.
“Avery, dear, would you mind bringing the soy sauce to the table. You know how I like to dip my food,” her aunt says.
Avery leaves the table for soy sauce. She returns a few moments later and places the bottle in front of her aunt. Her aunt doesn’t say thank you.
“What happened to you?” Tom asks me straight out.
I take a sip of water. “I was involved in an IED explosion.”
Avery places her hand on my forearm. “You don’t need to talk about that now.”
“It’s okay,” I say, smiling to her reassuringly. I don’t know what’s up with her aunt and uncle, but they aren’t fazing me.
We begin to eat quietly.
“Avery, would you mind bringing me the club soda? This food is going to give me heartburn,” her uncle says.
Jessy stands. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll get it,” she says. Something about the way she responds tells me this kind of thing happens often, and that’s why Avery doesn’t like to be home.
Jessy leaves the table and the grip on my fork tightens. She returns with a can of club soda.
“Me too, dear, if you don’t mind,” Bee says to Jessy.
Are these people for real?
“What is it that you do, Jim?” I ask.
“Me?” he asks, like I have some nerve asking him a direct question.
“Yeah.” I nod.
“I dabble in this and that,” he says.
“And you, Bee? Are you working?” I ask, wondering how they keep up this home. I know Avery pays their food expenses, but it costs much more to hold a place like this.
“I work at the Walgreens,” she says.
I nod. “Nice.”
“You going to be walking with that cane forever?” Aunt Bee asks me in return. I know I just got personal with asking about jobs, so she clearly feels like she has a right, too.
“Hopefully not.” I nod.
Avery’s knee knocks into mine under the table. I look at her and she whispers, “Sorry.”
The rest of the meal is uneventful. When it’s time to clear, her aunt and uncle sit and don’t offer to help.
“You relax. I’ll clear the table,” I say to Avery. She must be exhausted after a long day at work and cooking such a fine meal.
“It’s okay.” She begins to stand.
I place my hand on hers. “Sit,” I tell her with a smile.
She stands and so does Jessy.
“Let us just help you,” Jessy says. They both stand and begin to clear the table. I help too and follow them to the sink area. Next to the sink, Jessy whispers, “Leaving Mom at the table with them is worse torture than cleaning off the table.”
“Uh, got it,” I nod.
“What’s for dessert?” Uncle Jim asks, rubbing his rounded belly.
“I didn’t get dessert. I didn’t have time,” Avery explains.
“You know that we’re supposed to get full meals Avery,” he says in such a demeaning way.
“Buddy, if you want dessert, take your car around the corner. Pretty sure I saw a Dairy Queen close by,” I snap.
Avery looks at me like I just told her that her puppy is dying. Jessy mutters something I don’t understand but she has a full-blown smile on her face.
Shit! What have I done?
“Are you going to allow your guest to speak to us this way?” Aunt Bee asks Avery, her chin tilted to the ceiling.
Avery’s mouth draws open and shut. Open and shut.
“It should’ve happened a long time ago,” Jessy says. “You and Uncle Jim think my mom is your slave and she isn’t. So what if you’re my dad’s aunt? It doesn’t give you a right to behave shitty,” Jessy finishes, her cheeks red, her chest heaving.
“Jessy,” Avery chides, placing her hands on her hips.
“Not this time, Mom,” Jessy says. “Let’s leave now. Let’s just go. Let them clean their own dinner and get their own stupid dessert and make their own stupid evening tea.”
Avery looks frozen.
“Babe. Talk to me,” I whisper against her ear.
Avery is at a loss of words.
“Come. Let’s go. Both of you,” I say feeling the need to take charge. I take Avery by her hand and Jess follows us. We grab jackets by the door and Jessy takes the car keys.
“I can drive,” she says.
Avery looks shell-shocked, but she nods.
“I’m sorry, but they’re thoughtless pricks,” I say. Then I look at Jessy. “Shoot, I’m sorry. I need to learn to use better language.”
Jessy laughs. “I’m not five. I hear much worse at school.” She presses her lips together and looks to her mom. “Mom, it’s fine. Stop freaking out. If it were up to me, I would’ve told them off a long time ago. Bennett was right to do what he did. Thank you, Bennett,” she says, giving me an assured nod.
“Avery, I’m sorry. I overstepped. It’s hard to watch how they treat you. Their lack of respect for you and your daughter is completely appalling. They’re shitty people, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing,” I say, knowing I’m being a little harsh, but honesty does always work best.
“They are,” Jessy agrees.
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” Avery snaps. “They’re the only family we have,” Avery says to Jessy.
“Mom, they were Dad’s family, and he really hasn’t been a part of our lives in forever,” Jessy says.
“I know that, but now we don’t have a place to stay. How can we go back in there? It would’ve made more sense to find our own place. I told you I was working on it,” Avery says to Jessy. “And you . . .” She turns to me, her eyes darkening with wrath. I cower in front of this woman who holds my heart in her hands. “You can’t just bulldoze my life.”
“You’re right and I’m sorry. But I’m also not sorry for standing up for you. I always want to stand up for you. I finally understood why you spent most nights out of the house, and it got to me. I know I need to control my temper and not act on impulse. I’m truly sorry for that,” I say.
Avery’s tight brows and narrowed eyes relax into a soft smile and warm gaze.
“I’m sorry. I messed up. You and Jessy can stay at my place. You can both have the bedroom and I’ll take the couch. You will find a place soon, I’m sure, and we can send for your things. Is it so bad that I want better for you?” I ask.
“Bennett, you’re all right in my book,” Jessy says.
Avery laughs.
I laugh.
Jessy laughs.
Everything feels a little lighter.
I head back inside with Jessy and Avery so they can pack a bag. I may look injured, but I’m still a big, strong guy. The aunt and uncle aren’t anywhere to be seen. Avery and her daughter return downstairs each with a large duffle on their back. Something about it reminds me of my deployments.
Irresistible: A Salvation Society Novel Page 13