by Dana Wayne
Several moments passed before he could speak. He pulled her arms away and took a step back.
Her lips trembled, and another sob escaped as she watched him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen.
“Let’s sit down.” He whispered and didn’t wait for a reply as he dropped into a chair at the table, nor did he look up as Maddie and Sky joined him.
“Max…” Sky’s stricken voice found its way through the fog. “I’m so sorry. Maddie—”
“No.” The single word sounded harsh even to him, and he tried to soften it. “It’s okay.” He looked at Maddie, whose shuddering breaths continued. “I’m okay, Tink. I’m not going to die.” He looked at Sky and took a deep breath. “But I do have PTSD.”
Sky heard what he said but didn’t really process it at first. She knew about PTSD of course but had never actually known anyone who had it. Max seemed perfectly normal to her. Try as she might, she couldn’t dredge up anything on the subject.
“I’ve been undergoing treatment since I got home.”
He sat ramrod straight, one tightly fisted hand rested on the table. The misery in his voice was so acute, her heart ached for him.
“It’s not like cancer?”
Maddie’s childlike lilt drew his attention. “No, Tink,” he said softly, “It’s not like that.”
“You’re not gonna die?” Her voice broke, and she inhaled deeply.
“No.”
She jumped from the chair and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, I’m so glad. I knew Miss Gail didn’t know what she was talking about.”
Stiff at first, Max didn’t react to Maddie’s enthusiastic response. Then, slowly, his head bowed and rested on hers.
Sky didn’t miss the tear that slid down his cheek.
Maddie pulled away and looked at Sky. “When will supper be ready?”
“Not until you tell me what brought all this on.” She waved her hand in a circle for emphasis.
Maddie ducked her head. “I overheard Miss Gail talking to Mr. Frank this morning when you went back to the store.”
“We’ll talk about your eavesdropping later. What did you hear?”
She cut her eyes toward Max, who watched intently. “Well, I didn’t actually hear much, just the part about PTSD being like cancer, and then later she said something about Max, and I thought she was saying he was sick.”
She struggled to find a way to explain something she didn’t really understand herself when Max spoke up.
He folded his hands in his lap and took a deep breath. “PTSD is…something that people…soldiers who have been in combat, sometimes have.”
“Does it hurt?”
He blew out a long breath. “Not in the way you mean, but yes, it can hurt.”
“That’s how you got that cut on your face, isn’t it?”
“Maddie!”
If they heard her rebuke, neither gave any indication as their conversation continued.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry you got hurt, Max.”
“Thanks, Tink.”
“Are you well now?”
Sky didn’t bother to interrupt again since they acted like she wasn’t in the room. Besides, she wanted to know the answer, too.
“I’m much better than I was a year ago, but, no, I’m not totally well.”
Maddie nodded, eyes clear and bright. “But it’s not cancer, so you’ll get well, right?”
He nodded. “I hope so.”
“Can we help you get better?”
Sky heard the quick intake of breath, could see he held it for several heartbeats before he let it go and looked at her.
“I’d like that, but it’s a lot to ask.”
“Why?” Maddie’s voice was firm. “We’d like to help you, wouldn’t we, Mama?”
“I’m sure your mom needs some questions answered before she decides.” He unfolded his hands, placed one on the table. “How about you go watch some TV while we talk?”
“Oh. I see. You need grown-up time.” She turned toward the living room.
“No eavesdropping, young lady.” Sky knew her daughter too well.
“Yes, ma’am.” As was her habit when scolded, Maddie drew out the last word on a deep sigh.
The silence following her exit became uncomfortable, but Sky didn’t know what to say.
Finally, Max sat up and faced her. “I was going to have this conversation later, but now is as good a time as any.”
He clenched his fist so tightly, the knuckles turned white, yet his voice never betrayed distress. “I’ve been in the Marines since I was eighteen. I’ve lost count of the hellholes I’ve been to. And most of them don’t matter anyway.”
She listened in silence as he talked about the last mission. The one that killed his squad and nearly killed him. She had never heard anyone speak so dispassionately about something so horrific and wondered how long he could keep such a tight rein on his emotions.
And what might happen when that tenuous connection broke.
Even as doubts raced through her mind, pain squeezed her heart. He’d been through so much, witnessed so much grief…and faced it all alone. It was a miracle he had made it this far.
When he was done, the only way she knew he suffered was the white knuckles in front of her and the pain-ravaged eyes that waited for a response.
Intuitively, she knew it wasn’t sympathy he wanted or needed, but understanding and compassion. Was she strong enough to do that for him? Would it be more than she could handle? What about Maddie? What would happen to her if things went south?
She pulled in a breath and let it out slowly. “Is that all?”
His guttural laugh held no humor. “That’s not enough?”
She didn’t react to his sharpness. “I know nothing about PTSD, Max. Nothing that’s useful anyway. But I’m willing to learn.” She hesitated briefly before placing both her hands over his fist. “You’ve been to hell and back. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you.”
She felt the tremble in his hand, heard the hitch in his breathing, and tightened her grip.
“It’d kill me if I hurt you,” he whispered through clenched lips, “or Maddie.”
“You’re a good man, Max. That much I know.” She paused. “I’ve never been through the kind of trauma you have, but I know what it’s like to face adversity alone.”
“I may not be as messed up as I was a year ago, Sky, but I’m not over it. They don’t happen often anymore, but the nightmares still come around, the panic attacks…”
“I know. But my heart tells me you’re someone worth taking a chance on.” She squeezed his hand again. “One day, one thing at a time, Max.”
His throat moved with each rapid swallow as his gaze remained locked with hers. “Maddie?”
“I’ll talk to her tonight.” She gave a rueful shake of her head. “If I know her, she’ll Google it the first chance she gets.”
“I don’t want her…or you to be afraid of me. But…something could happen. If something should trigger an episode…” He inhaled deeply. “Dr. Bellamy’s number—my shrink at the VA—is on speed dial on my phone. The first one.”
She considered his statement. How violent was he? She didn’t really know anything about him. Once again, her gut countered. She trusted him. He was a good man. Deciding information was power, she picked her questions.
“Are the episodes…violent?”
He shook his head. “Usually just anxiety, panic attacks.” Twin lines of worry formed on his forehead, and his gaze bored into hers. “Doesn’t mean that won’t happen, though.” He shifted in his chair, pulled his hand from under hers. “I’ve had a couple of minor episodes lately that I was able to control.” His jaw clenched and released. “Had the damn nightmare the other day, too. Hadn’t had one in almost a year.”
“Medication?”
“No. I hate drugs. And Dr. Bellamy said I seem to do better on my own.” Sadness clouded his features. “Cade was right about one thing, though
.” He drew in a shaky breath. “I’m no good for you.”
She went to him and knelt on the floor, resting her hands on his knees. “Well, Cade’s an asshole, and we don’t care what he thinks.”
He gave a low, raspy moan. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”
She rose and clasped his head in her hands. “You deserve better than me.”
He froze, hands fisted on his thighs. “There is no one better than you,” he whispered. Slowly, as though afraid movement might break the spell that bound them, he slid his hands up around her waist and pulled her forward.
He rested his head against her chest as she rubbed the tight muscles in his back. Silent sobs racked his body as they clung to each other. Two lost and lonely souls overwhelmed by the knowledge that they were no longer alone.
Sky pulled the thrift-store quilt up around Maddie’s chest and tucked it in. “So, do you have any questions?”
The child shook her head. “No, ma’am. I understand. He got hurt being a soldier and sometimes has bad dreams. Like when I watched that scary dinosaur movie.” She placed her stuffed bunny in the crook of her arm. “And sometimes he remembers when he doesn’t want to, and it makes him sad.”
Leave it to a child to reduce a complex subject to its simplest form. “That’s right.”
“He’s really nice, isn’t he?”
Sky smiled. “Yes. He is.”
“Can we help him not be sad?”
“We can try.” Sky chewed her lower lip, unsure of just how much more to say. “But something might happen that we can’t help him with. Or he might say or do something that’s, well, a little scary.”
Bow-shaped lips pursed. “Miss Gail said he got a purple medal for being a soldier. That makes him a hero, right?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so.”
“Heroes don’t hurt people.”
Sky had no rebuttal for her child’s determined statement. “One more thing.” She smoothed the covers on Maddie’s bed. “You have an inquisitive nature and ask a lot of questions. But this isn’t something you can ask about.”
“Max doesn’t mind my questions. He said so.”
“I know. But this is different. This is…very personal and not something you should ask about.”
“You told me when I had my bad dream that talking about it made it go away.”
Okay, you got me there. “I know this is hard for you to understand, but you can’t ask him about it.”
Maddie’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth.
Sky held up one finger, silencing the argument brewing in those baby blues. “I mean it, Maddie. Off limits.”
“But what if he says something about it?”
“If, and only if, Max brings it up, you may talk about it. But only if he brings it up. Got that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” A prolonged yawn followed her agreement. “’Night, Mama. I love you.”
Her heart swelled with love for her precocious child as she kissed her forehead. “Night, Maddie. I love you, too.”
Sleep eluded Sky for the greater part of the night, and when it came, it was filled with a troubling mixture of images that left her restless and anxious, filled with questions for which she had no ready answers.
And Max occupied center stage.
Could she deal with his PTSD? How bad was it really? Was Maddie too attached to him? The questions compounded and rolled on top of each other until she abandoned all thought of rest.
Dawn found her sipping a second cup of coffee as the tantalizing smell of roasting meat filled the air. She looked at the detailed to-do list on the table. “Oh shoot,” she mumbled to herself. “I forgot to tell Max I invited Big John to lunch.” She looked out the window to the darkened house next door. “Maybe I can catch him later.”
The invitation was an impulsive act spurred by the knowledge that John had no family and would spend the holiday alone. His ready acceptance of the offer convinced her it was the right thing to do.
She drained the last of her coffee and went about gathering up things she would take to Max’s house later. Her mother’s hand embroidered linen tablecloth and matching napkins topped the list, followed by a crystal vase to hold the mixed bouquet she had picked up yesterday.
It saddened her to realize how few tangible items remained of her parents and their life together. After her father’s death, it was just Sky and her mother, and they were very close until the horrible accident that changed everything. One minute Sky was a typical sixteen-year-old with teenaged woes, the next she was forced to be an adult caring for an invalid mother.
To this day, those three years were a blur. Thankfully, there was some insurance money to deal with the medical bills, but nothing else. Somehow, Sky managed to work and go to school and care for them both.
The last year of her mother’s life was awful, and Sky found herself thankful when death took her away. Losing her was bad enough, but the fire that destroyed their home a year later was the final, crippling blow. A few trinkets, her parents’ wedding rings, her mother’s starfish necklace, and the table linens were all that survived.
Alone and heartbroken, she threw herself into her studies. Perhaps that was why she fell so hard and fast for Brett Ward, a young businessman she met through a patient. Their fairy-tale courtship ended with a sunset wedding on a beach in Jamaica. When she discovered she was pregnant a year later, they were over the moon with happiness. Their perfect family was complete.
The exact cause of Sky’s early labor was never determined. One day everything was fine, the next she was in the hospital as the doctor tried to delay the inevitable. In the end, the cord became wrapped around the baby’s neck, necessitating an emergency C-Section.
The first few weeks were agonizing as Maddie’s fate hung in the balance. At first, Brett came to the hospital often, but had a great deal of difficulty handling their daughter’s delicate condition. And then his job changed, and he had to travel more, leaving Sky alone to deal with whatever happened.
“Enough,” Sky scolded herself. “The past is gone. Get over it and move on.”
She pushed up from the chair and went about the business of putting together the first real Thanksgiving dinner she’d had since before her mother’s accident.
A short time later, a light knock on the back door found her humming along with a song on the radio.
Max greeted her with a tentative smile. “I just wanted to let you know I left the back door unlocked. I need to do some stuff for Gail, and I’ll be in and out.”
She pushed open the screen door. “Come in. It’s cold out there. I have fresh coffee.”
He stepped inside and shut the door. “I don’t want to trouble you. You already have enough to do today.”
She passed him a mug of coffee and turned back to the stove. “It’s no trouble.” She tilted her head toward the table. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Does a Pop-Tart count?”
She snorted and shook her head. “No. It doesn’t.” She pulled a skillet from the cabinet and placed it on the stove. “Won’t take but a minute to scramble some eggs to go with the sausage and biscuits I already made.”
In record time, she placed food in front of him, along with butter and grape jelly. “I haven’t made homemade biscuits in a while. I hope you like them.”
He split the biscuit and slathered butter on both sides. “I’m sure they’re fine.” He added a dollop of jelly to one side and used it to help slide a bite of egg onto his fork, then stopped. “You’re not eating?”
“I ate already.” She added more coffee to her cup and sat down. “Eat before the eggs get cold.” Unsure of how he might react to adding Big John to the guest list, she proceeded with caution. “I, um, hope you don’t mind but I invited someone else to join us for lunch.”
She pulled the kitchen towel from her shoulder and rolled it in her hands. “It’s John Andrews. I should have asked you first since it’s your house, but it was an impulsive act when I found out he had no family
and would be alone.”
Max stopped mid-chew and stared. A heartbeat passed before he swallowed and smiled softly, dark eyes filled with gratitude. “I’m glad you did.”
She released the breath she held and smiled. “I’m sorry I did it without asking, but, well, it just happened.”
He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. At his light touch, heat raced up her arm and exploded through her body. It took massive control not to react.
“No need to apologize. It was nice of you to think of him.”
Several seconds passed before Max ducked his head and released her hand. “Whatever you’re cooking sure smells good.”
Shaken by his effect on her, she mumbled. “I thought we’d eat around twelve-thirty if that’s all right with you.”
“That’s fine.”
Maddie walked in then, Bunny cradled in her arm. When she spotted Max, she rushed forward. “Hi, Max. I didn’t know you were here.” She turned to Sky. “May I eat with Max?”
“Of course.” Sky got up and went to the stove. “Scrambled eggs or biscuits and jelly?”
Maddie sat down and plunked Bunny on the table.
“Bunny goes in your lap, not on the table.”
“Sorry. I forgot.” She looked at Max’s plate. “Eggs, please.”
While Sky cooked, Maddie chatted about everything, from her good report card to her bike to Max being right about Bobby, whatever that meant. The poor man listened patiently as the child rambled on and never once seemed to be irritated or vexed by the barrage of prattle.
It wasn’t until Sky placed food in front of her that Maddie stopped to take a breath.
Max picked up his plate and turned toward the sink. “I need to get moving so I can finish Gail’s to-do list before lunch.”
Sky took his dishes and placed them on the counter. “She told me Frank hopes to go back to work soon.” A fireman, Frank Brown was injured when a roof collapsed under him a month ago. “I know he hates not being able to do much.”
“Can I help you with Miss Gail’s to-do list, Max?” asked Maddie.
“Another time, kiddo. Weatherman said we may get sleet soon, and it’s near freezing outside.”