“I’m afraid the single-sided deafness is permanent. When you get back stateside the doctors there will fit you with an appropriate hearing device. Depending on the one you choose an outpatient surgery may be required. Keep in mind there are several options. Like I said, the doctor will go over them with you.”
It takes a few minutes for me to compose my response. My thoughts aren’t as ordered and clear as they used to be. “And the memory loss? The seizures?”
“Most cases of mild TBI persist for a year or more. Each case is unique, like each person. They can persist for a time and heal or they may go on longer.”
Even though I already knew the answer, to hear it confirmed is still devastating. It could be worse, I admit, much worse. A thousand different kinds of hell worse. I almost wish it was. I wish I’d died with them. Gone down in the blaze of glory that I’m owed for my sacrifice.
Instead, I’m sitting on a hospital bed. Alive. Down half a sense and can’t trust my own goddamned brain.
The doctor explains the symptoms of a mild traumatic brain injury but all I hear is that I shouldn’t be alive. I shouldn’t be this lucky. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it half as much as some of the men that died that day, or the innocent men and women that have been slaughtered for a war they can’t control.
He finishes and I mumble some kind of response that enables him to leave. The next round of nurses come in for the evening shift and with them the medication for pain, both physical…and emotional.
I check my phone again, only to realize that I’d checked it minutes before. Along with the hearing loss, the traumatic brain injury guarantees that I’d never return to Afghanistan again. I’d never see the conclusion of the war I fought so hard to win. I’d spend the next year med-boarding out of the Marines and riding a desk at my new duty station.
That reality is a hard one to swallow. Even though I’d been considering leaving the Marines after my time was up, I hate having it taken away from me against my will.
To pass the time, I check my email and surf the Internet. My heart damn near stops in my chest when I see a new email from Olivia in my notifications. I glance at the photo of her I have on my side table and hesitate, one finger hovering over the little envelope.
I take a deep breath and click.
Dear Ben, it starts.
I was thinking about you today and I thought I’d give emailing you another try. It’s okay if you don’t respond. I just miss talking to you. There are so many things I wish I could say. I was hoping we could meet when you get back. Maybe grab a cup of coffee? I could really use one of your smiles right now.
Missing you, Olivia.
I click back and see dozens of previous emails she’d sent over the months I’d been deployed. My hand aches to move the mouse and devour her words. I nearly do it, but I’m distracted by the ringing in my ears—tinnitus, the doctors call it. It’s another one of the things I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life.
I thought I was broken before? That is nothing compared to the desolation I feel now. Now I’m a warrior put to pasture and forced to rejoin the world with death and destruction on my conscience.
My lips firm into a line and I select all emails—from Olivia, from family members, guys attached to my unit—and I bulk delete them.
That was my old life. Who knows what the hell my future will hold for me, but the least I can do is save Olivia from the shell of a man I’ve become.
Olivia
The date to the echocardiogram rolls around, no matter how much I try to distract myself with work and finishing up the renovations on my house. Despite how much they wanted to come, Dad has a fishing trip that he’s been planning for months and that I refused to let him bail on. Jack has some kind of promotional thing at the gym that he couldn’t get anyone to cover for him. I promise them I’ll call them with the results and ensure them that Sofie volunteered to come.
The hospital is a modern-looking building, all smooth white stucco and glass. The cardiology unit, especially, is clean and high-tech. I appreciate all the gadgets that we pass and my reverence for doctors and all their hard work grows a million-fold.
“You sure you don’t want me to go in the room with you?” Sofie asks.
I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m sure. They said this exam could take a while and I’ll just be laying there. Feel free to take a nap or something.” I laugh, but the sound is breathless and lacks conviction.
“I’ll be here if you need me.” She pulls me into a quick, hard hug.
There is a repeat of the gel and the wand. I try to pay attention to the screen and the tech, but in truth, my mind is racing too fast for me to notice anything other than the long time it takes for the exam. The tech lets me clean up and I go back to the waiting room to sit with Sofie until the cardiologist calls me to discuss the results.
Sofie holds my hand, but doesn’t try to start a conversation or give me meaningless assurances. Her simple touch keeps me from coming unglued as the minutes tick by.
When the receptionist calls my name, I jump and Sofie tightens her grip on my hand. We rise and follow the nurse back to another exam room for another lengthy wait. I can’t decide if it took so long because they’re being thorough or if they have bad news and just want to put off delivering it. By the time the doctor arrives I’m nearly overcome with shivers.
“Ms. Walker, I’m Dr. Foley.” She’s a woman in her late forties with red-blonde hair pulled back into a bun. She has kind, watery blue eyes and a brightly colored, heart-bedecked stethoscope. I like her immediately and take back every negative thought I had while we were waiting.
I offer her a faint hello. Sofie stays quiet, but smiles, lips betraying her outer shields with a tremble.
I watch as Dr. Foley’s lips move, but after the words, “Your son has HLHS,” I stop listening.
Sofie makes sure to take note of all the important information and literature. She tells them that I’ll be coming back if I have any questions. But for the most part I think she just wants to get me out of there before I lose it.
But I don’t. I think I’ve cried all the tears I have in me. On the drive home from the hospital, I can do nothing but sit and stare blankly out the window with my hand on my stomach where I can feel him moving.
“Can you drop me at the gym?” I ask Sofie when we make it back to Nassau. “I promised him I would come by afterwards to let him know the news.”
“Absolutely, anything you need.”
I know the situation must be dire if Sofie is willing to go within speaking distance of Jack.
She stops at the entrance, puts the car in park and turns to me. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”
“Are you going to try to get ahold of Ben again?”
I stare at her in surprise. In the shock of the doctor’s news, I hadn’t even thought about it. After the last non-answered email, I hadn’t tried to reach out again. At least by the time Cole was due, he’d be home. Maybe then I’d be able to get ahold of him.
“I sent him a million emails. I haven’t heard back, so I think I’ll just wait to hear from him and talk to him then. Right now I just want to make sure to keep us both as healthy as possible.”
She gives me a hug and I heave my exhausted body out of the car. It’s nearing the busiest time of the day for the gym, but it’s practically empty. I look around and find Jack in the office cursing at paperwork.
“How’d the promo thing go?” I ask.
Jack rubs a hand through his messy hair. The fact that it’s sticking up in all directions pretty much answers my question, but he says, “Miserably. Barely anyone showed up. But you don’t worry about that. Tell me the news.”
My lip trembles and my look must tell him all he needs to know. He rises from the desk to envelop me in a hug. “I’m sorry, Livvie.”
“Has Dad gotten back from his trip yet?”
“No, but he said he’d come straight here after.”
I plop wearily onto his couch. “Do you mind if I crash here until he gets here? I’m kind of wiped after today.”
“Of course.”
A few hours later I hear Jack get up from the desk chair with a loud squeak. I come awake with a groan. For a moment, I don’t even recognize where I am. Then I hear the dull thuds and grunts from the gym and catch the scent of sweat and leather. I relax into the couch, lulled by the familiar setting.
My dad is due back any minute according to the time on my phone. As much as I would like to bury the news I have to deliver, I know Dad will be the guiding light I need to get through the next few months.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and get to my feet. I’m inhaling a bottled water I found in the mini-fridge to combat the sour taste in my mouth when the office door opens behind me.
Jack has soaked through his shirt since I saw him earlier. His normally tanned skin has an abnormal gray pallor. All my life, I’ve known when bad things are going to happen. The sensation is akin to falling. At first, there is confusion as the world shifts under my feet. Then denial, because how could this be happening to me, anyway? Then resolute grief because no matter how much I try, there’s not a damn thing I can do to change my circumstances.
Even knowing this and having been through it several times in my short life, I still go through each stage.
Confusion.
“Jack?”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he hesitates in the doorway. He takes a stuttering step forward then stops to run a hand through his hair. “Sit down, Liv.”
My hand automatically presses against my stomach. “Jack?” I repeat a few octaves higher. “What’s going on?”
Denial.
I follow his glance to the gym, and I see the faint figures of men in uniform talking to a huge guy in sweats that I recognize as Logan. They must be cops he works with. My stomach drops, and I shift my attention back to Jack.
He takes a few cautious steps toward me, but I hold my hand up and shake my head. “Just tell me.”
Images start to flit through my mind. Ben. The pregnancy test. My father’s face the first time I met him, a few weeks after I’d turned thirteen.
I register Jack closing the door to the office. “It’s Dad,” he says.
And for the second time in my life, I find myself feeling utterly alone in the world.
Four Months Later
Benjamin Cole Walker is born after ten harrowing hours of labor with the help of a specialized team of OB/GYNs and Dr. Foley, who waits on standby to give Cole his first evaluation. They place him on my chest for the briefest of moments and we lock eyes; mesmerizing crystal-blues identical to his dad’s. Everything inside me seizes, and for a few perfect seconds, I don’t worry about the uncertainty with Ben or the upcoming surgeries Cole will have to endure or the difficulties he’ll face in his life. Instead, I experience the most profound and all-encompassing wave of love and awe, that I’m still stunned when the nurses come to take him for stabilization. Thankfully the hospital has one right next door so that when I’m able, I can watch him through the window.
Jack narrates what the nurses are doing as he watches through the glass. “They’re hooking him up to an IV now. Prostaglandin, I think.”
I recalled that as the medicine that will help keep him stable and improve blood flow until his first surgery which will take place in two days.
“Now they’re attaching him to a bunch of crap for his vitals. He looks good, sis.”
I smile wearily from my place on the bed. Once they get his vitals stable they are going to have to move him down the hall to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit to prep for the first of the three surgeries. I didn’t like being separated from him so soon, but I’d been preparing for months for these procedures. I had to be strong for him.
After Cole’s diagnosis, I made monthly trips to the Fetal Cardiac Program for observation with Dr. Foley to keep an eye on his development. We prepared and discussed for his birth more than I thought possible. Dr. Foley turned out to be a Godsend. She answered all (million) of my questions and took all of my frantic calls, no matter how off the wall.
Dr. Foley and the team at the FCP explained that after a series of surgeries, one performed after birth, one around six months and the other around eighteen months, Cole’s heart would essentially function as a one-sided pump instead of two. The first year was going to be rough, but he was in excellent hands and I was determined to give him the kind of family I never had.
I learned early on how important it is to take each day at a time and to stay positive. After Dad’s sudden heart attack, I went through a dark place, one that I didn’t think I would survive, but I did because I knew Cole needed me. He reminded me a lot of myself after I was put in foster care. Only I would never give up on him. He would always have me.
Jack turns from the window and says, “I hate to tell you this, but that baby looks just like Ben.”
I groan. “I do all the work and the kid doesn’t even look like me? How is that fair?”
“At least Ben isn’t totally unfortunate looking, I guess. You could have really been screwed.”
Coming down from the adrenaline of giving birth, I burst into tears and I’m not entirely sure why.
Jack smiles and says, “Dad used to tell me Mom did the same thing after I was born because she was so happy. Then again, he said she only did it because she was terrified I would turn out just like him.”
I hiccup through my tears. “She did not!”
Jack simply shakes his head and plops into a chair next to me. “She did,” he said as he taps the window and waves at the probably sleeping baby. My heart clutches at the sight. “She knew it was a lost cause. No matter how hard she tried, I still turned out just like him.” We both fall into a contemplative silence and I shed a couple tears for a completely different reason. I so wanted him to be here to meet my son and it’s killing me that he isn’t. I’m trying to be positive though, for my son and for Jack, who has been having an especially hard time with Dad’s death over the last few months. Jack hears my sniffling and turns back to me. “You did good, girl.”
I give him a watery smile. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
“Olivia.” Jack’s face was pinched. “Boys aren’t beautiful. He’s ruggedly handsome. Or he’s a strapping lad.”
“Lad?” I ask with a quirked brow.
Jake merely smiles at me. “He’s perfect.”
I tug Jack’s arm down to the bed so that he’s sitting next to me. I can’t help but feel like the Walkers were chosen for me. That Jack was the brother I was meant to have. “Thanks for being with me today, Jackie.”
“Nowhere I’d rather be, sis. Though, you could have gone easy on my hand. I never should have let you train with us. I think you broke it.” He flexes the hand in question.
“I highly doubt that.”
We share a laugh and as it trails off, I watch Jack’s face turn serious.
“You still haven’t heard from him?” he asks in a low voice.
I suck in a deep breath and paste on a happy face. “No, but Logan said the mail where he’s at is spotty at best. I sent him a few emails with updates and one of the ultrasounds, but I don’t think he got them. I would have heard back by now.”
“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I’m your big brother. I just didn’t want you to be alone today. Or for the surgery. It’s going to be a rough year and I just want to make sure you’re both taken care of.”
“I’m not alone. You were with me. You’ll be here for everything. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.”
“I know they’re sending him to a pretty hellacious place and he’ll get in touch with you when he can. Just let me know when he does.”
“Of course, Jack. If I ever do. If I don’t, that’s fine, too.”
For a while after Ben went out on his deployment, I’d waited with bated breath. Each time the phone rang or the mail ran, I expected for it to be him.
It never was. Losing my mom, and then Ben, and then my dad… it has just been too much. I can’t stand the thought of losing anyone else in my life. So I’ve come to the conclusion that if he shows and wants to be involved, great. If not, then we’ll be fine without him.
Jack studies me for a few minutes, but the bone-deep exhaustion has left me too weary for any kind of discussion. Jack and I take turns watching Cole so I can grab a couple hours of much-needed sleep. He only wakes me when there are updates and whenever he’s snuck more food into the room. It occurs to me that Cole and I are very lucky, the luckiest, to have him in our lives. And we don’t need anyone else, I decide.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything? Did you get enough diapers from your shower thing?” Jack looks around the living room like he’d find an errant pack of them hiding in a planter or something.
“Yes, I have plenty. If we run out, I can always call you to run to the store for me.”
Jack brightens. “I can do that now. Where do I go?”
I laugh. “Jack. We’re fine, I promise. You’ve covered everything and Melissa made enough frozen meals for us to last through the next year. Now, go; you’ve done enough. More than enough.”
I walk him to the door but stop when he pauses in the doorway.
He opens his mouth to say something then pauses. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?”
“Absolutely, Jack. I know I wasn’t prepared for the whole mom gig initially, but I’ve spent more than enough time in the hospital learning how to take care of him. I made the nurses teach me everything at least twice. I could give him his medicine and check monitors in my sleep. We’re going to be just fine.”
Jack wraps his arms around me, and I tuck my head under his chin. At six foot two, he towers over my small frame, but I always fit, like we’re two pieces from different puzzles that somehow work.
“You’re my little sister. It’s my duty to make sure you’re okay.”
I squeeze him extra tight. “And you’ve always done a great job. Now, get. You can come see us this weekend. For now, I need to get used to this all by myself for a little while.”
First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 22