by Dale Mayer
Back in Detroit she had had so many things going on, but here she had a chance to step back and remember to live a little. She had settled in—to a comfort level she hadn’t expected, in fact. Because now it felt like it was too comfortable. She had to assess what she wanted to do. Because the thought of losing Elliot was truly discomfiting. Maybe it was time to make another career change? Or at least a shift change?
She rose from bed, sad and somewhat melancholy. Where had the last five years gone? They had slipped away in peace, and she was delighted to have had that. But in a way, she hadn’t been living—she knew that. After she showered, her mood improved slightly but not a whole lot.
She talked herself into going to the dining hall, even though she wasn’t ready for food, but so she could visit the coffee station where she poured herself a cup. The place hummed with activity. Sicily took a chair off to the side, in the back, where she simply sat and watched. She realized how much of her last five years she had spent on the outside. Plenty of people were here if she had wanted to connect with someone, but she hadn’t wanted to.
Sicily glanced up to see Dani walking toward her. She smiled. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon. How are you doing?” Dani asked. “You look kind of sad.”
Sicily raised her eyebrows. With a smile, she shook her head. “Not sad, melancholy.”
“Why?” Dani sat down with her coffee, really wanting an answer.
She tried to explain, she really did, she gave it a couple attempts, and then finally she shrugged. “Change. Change that I hadn’t seen coming. Change I wasn’t sure I was ready for. Somehow the situation that brought me here healed a long time ago, and I didn’t even notice.”
Dani chuckled. “Healing happens here and not just for the patients,” she said. “Everything around here is about the state of healing. It’s good for us all.”
“I hadn’t expected to look back and see how far I’ve come in some ways and yet, in others, not at all.”
“Judgment—that’s always an easy pitfall. One of the interesting things for me is when I look back on all the years since I started Hathaway House with my father, and I see how much we’ve accomplished, I suddenly feel sad to see how fast those years have passed by. It’s like they disappeared so quickly that we didn’t have a chance to take note or to mark on a calendar all the individual shifts as they happened.” Dani settled back in her chair and lifted her coffee cup. “I’ve started to think we should institute a monthly honoring system. Keep track of the little bits and pieces, the big and small milestones, so when we look back on the year, we know where it went and how we passed the time. I don’t think we do much passing of the time here. It’s time passing over us as we’re too busy doing.”
Sicily laughed. “True enough. One of the things I have been looking at was the passing of time. I’ve been here five years.”
Dani jerked forward. “You’re not thinking of quitting, are you?” she asked in a low voice.
Sicily shook her head. “No, I’m not. I came from a job that was incredibly stressful and incredibly difficult emotionally, and after arriving here, it seems like I’ve spent the last five years in a cocoon. I’ve been all wrapped up in a bubble of serenity and peacefulness with a thick layer between me and the reality of what kind of work I used to do. That’s been really good.”
Dani waited a moment and then slowly nudged her. “And? Are you ready for a change?”
“I’m not sure what I’m saying. I woke up this morning with a sense that something needed to shift.”
“Night shift is not necessarily good for people,” Dani said. “I’ve read lots of research. It’s not harmful for a certain amount of time, but over the long-term, your body rhythm gets out of sync. Maybe that’s what this is all about.”
“I think night shift is a part of it, but I think it’s more the reasons why I’ve stayed with night shift. You’ve given me lots of opportunities to switch out, but it was an easy way to live. I didn’t deal with the day-shift frictions. When I first got here, that was ideal, and that’s what I needed. But over these last few weeks, something made me realize how much I have maybe isolated myself. How much I was hiding from the world. During the daytime”—she waved her arm at the full dining hall—“I can see people all I want. But I chose the option of not seeing people because my job is fairly alone, so I’m not forced to deal with people on a regular basis.” Then she leaned back in her chair and took several sips of her coffee, staring at Dani over the rim of her cup.
In a quiet voice Dani asked, “How much does this have to do with Elliot?”
Sicily gave Dani a half smile, Sicily’s lips crooking more in sadness than in joy. “Quite a lot. When he leaves, I’ll be alone. He gave me a unique insight into my world. Because most of the patients here sleep through the night, I’ll see every one of them only very briefly at some point between ten and six, on the odd occasion multiple times, but it’s only been Elliot who, until recently, was up all night long, and I spent a lot of time with him.” She told Dani about what Elliot had done for her break.
“Oh my, that’s beautiful. What a nice thought.” Dani shook her head. “I never even thought about what your breaks must be like. Is it that you’re alone?”
“There’s always a second nurse on, but we take our breaks at different times for obvious reasons,” Sicily said with a shrug. “Until Elliot, I was totally happy being alone.”
The two women shared a smile, both understanding.
“Men are responsible for making us think through a lot of things,” Dani said. “I believe that’s a good thing. At the same time, it can also be difficult to go through the process and see how they’ve made us grow and change.”
“I’m not sure I have. I think he’s awakened me to the fact I’m still hiding.”
Dani’s eyebrows rose. “What would you like to do?”
Sicily shook her head. “I’m not sure. One possibility is to switch out of night shift, maybe a little farther down the road.”
Dani leaned forward. “Down the road as in, when Elliot’s gone?”
Sicily took a deep breath. “Maybe a little earlier. He has started to sleep through the nights now.”
“Ah,” Dani said in understanding. “And as he heals and gets stronger, you’re losing time with him. And the time lost at night is intimate time. It’s the two of you wrapped up in a bubble of a world created by the circumstances. That’s all shifting now that he’s sleeping. While you’re loving that improvement in his health, it has changed your world and not necessarily for the better.”
“And yet, here I sit, thinking it’s not for the worse.”
“Good idea,” Dani said. “Because here it doesn’t matter which way you turn or which way you go. You have choices. Let me know what you want, and I’ll see what I can arrange. I don’t want to lose you. I know you don’t want to lose Elliot, and I am certain Elliot doesn’t want to lose you, so let’s figure out what works for all of us.”
Sicily nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Dani.”
“Don’t thank me,” Dani said. “I’m thanking you for five years of night shifts.” On that note, she rose, grabbed her coffee cup and left.
And even though Dani left Sicily sitting there alone, she no longer felt lonely.
Elliot had lots to think about.
The thing about phobias was no one cared but the affected person. It didn’t matter to anyone else but to him that he got on that horse. That made this self-imposed pressure stupid. Why was he doing this?
Because it felt like a weakness. With so much he couldn’t change, that was one thing he felt he could—if he was brave enough. Another problem though was that he didn’t want to do this to impress Sicily because what if he failed? Then he would have failed twice. Once for not getting on the damn horse and then for disappointing Sicily on top of it all. He understood in theory this needed to be done because he wanted to do it. To regain control of his life, even if it was just in some small measure—yet finding a
visible sign of long-term success in something that had bothered him for years.
Having a phobia like this was easy to ignore, if he stayed away from horses …
However, he did want to be the man who Sicily thought he could be. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, because part of him felt like a fraud. Part of him felt like he had strung her along because of the circumstances. Because he wanted that boost, that friendship, and that sense of knowing he wasn’t alone. But what if this was all a facade? What if, when he left this place and went back out into the real world, he couldn’t handle it? What if everything in his world crashed and burned, and he was back to being the mess of the man he had been when he woke up after the surgeries? He wouldn’t wish that on anybody.
He didn’t want to drag another person down with him. Especially not when he cared about Sicily. And he did care about Sicily. She was very special in so many ways. It was hard to consider she might be better off without him. Yet in some stupid way, it felt that way. Because if he couldn’t handle something like a horse, how was he expected to handle the bigger issues? Things like getting a job and rebuilding his future?
He settled back into the deck chair and looked out across the fields. He could see the horses, and that was fine when they were out there, and he was up here, but when they got close, well, that was a different story.
“Heavy thoughts?”
He turned, startled to find Dani standing beside him, a quizzical look on her face.
He shrugged. “Wondering how one deals with big fears that can be ignored most of the time.”
Understanding crossed her face. “The horses?” She pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. “I know a lot of people afraid of horses. In your case, I’m not so sure it’s a fear as much as an uncertainty because you haven’t been around them so much. You came up to them, and you touched them. And let them smell you.”
He shook his head. “But what you didn’t see was the terrified person on the inside.”
“Don’t you think we all have that same person inside? Whether it’s at a job interview or on a first date or facing a dog that’s way bigger than we’re used to?”
He stared at her. “This is different.”
She chuckled. “Of course it is because it’s your fear. That makes it very scary.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back, not sure he particularly liked the direction of the conversation.
She leaned in closer. “You think I’m making light of your feelings, but I’m not. I’ve seen people scream at the thought of being this close to the horses.”
Complete astonishment came over him. “You’re kidding me.”
She shook her head and laughed softly. “Although it’s something that really bothers you, I think you can manage it.”
He frowned, his gaze sliding to the pasture where the horses walked calmly in the morning sun, stopping to munch here and there. “They’re beautiful—at a distance.”
“They’re beautiful up close too,” Dani said. “As you’ve already found out.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to ride,” he said hurriedly.
“Of course not. Nobody says you have to ride them.”
He took a deep breath and let the words fall out. “I had a riding accident when I was eight.”
She leaned forward. “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult. Is that why you can’t get close to a horse now?”
He started at her, then slowly nodded. “It was bad.”
“Tell me about it.”
Shudders wracked his body as if in complete revolt over the idea, yet he knew it was time. It was past time. He took a deep breath. “I was riding my uncle’s horse.” He stopped as slowly the memories filtered back in. “We were all out there together, but I was falling behind. The horse was big and placid. An old farm horse. But there was a massive explosion and the horse bolted.” He stopped, struggled with his breathing, before he managed to say, “I was tossed and landed against a small shed that collapsed on top of me.”
He looked down to see Dani holding his hands gently. “That’s more important than you can possibly imagine,” she said. “That sounds very much like what happened to you in the military incident? Was it?”
Memories rolled through his brain, taking the first incident and laying it over the second. They had similarities. The second obviously much more damaging, yet to that young boy, that horse incident had been terrifying. He’d had nightmares for months … just like he was having worse nightmares now. “They were both bad to the person I was at the time,” he whispered. “I wonder if that’s all related to why I’m struggling with my PTSD now.”
“Of course it is. Everything in our life experience is related. You’re not just that boy and this man but that boy grew up into this man, so everything that happened since is built on the foundation of that boy’s experiences.”
“So then why do I feel like a failure?” There, he had said it. And yet inside he had to admit he felt different. Freer. As if the act of sharing had loosened up something held tight. Sicily was right, weakness wasn’t something he’d ever discussed in the military.
Dani’s eyebrows arched. “No need to feel like a failure. We have over 100 patients here, and yet how many rode that horse?”
He shook his head. “But that doesn’t matter because I feel like I was the one who should have gone, and I couldn’t.”
“Can you now?” This time she crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him carefully. “Consider this … What would it take to have you get on that horse?”
He stared at her, swallowing hard. “I’m not sure. I’m wondering that same thing.”
“It can’t be for somebody else,” she warned.
He didn’t dare glance at her. “I know,” he said quietly. “But Sicily put this program together with me in mind.”
“That’s not a big deal because it’s a good idea for most of our patients here, and I would never put a program in place for just one person.”
Elliot did feel a little relief then, easing the knots in his stomach. “Well, that’s good to know. I knew that, but I didn’t know if you understood what I meant.”
“Of course I do. The thing is, anytime you want to try, you let me know. I do think it would be rewarding—if for no other reason than it will help you take control of something and change it. Remember that little boy was a long time ago,” Dani stood up with a smile. “Think about it.”
“I will.” He watched as she walked away.
By the time the horse session came around the following week, Elliot was one more week stronger, one more week longer at Hathaway House and one more week further into a relationship with Sicily. But one more week closer to his check-out time too. Still, there had been improvements. His nightmares had eased slightly, he was understanding himself that much more. Even Shane seemed happier with his progress.
His relationship with Sicily continued to grow and develop. He knew he was a lucky man and there was a chance this was real and true and honest. But it was that honest part that bothered him.
After the session, he called Dani over once she walked away from the horse trailer. “Put me down for next week.”
A delighted smile lit up her face. Then she stopped and studied him carefully. “The thing is, if I do, I need you to show up. Because you’d be taking a spot somebody else could use. Of course the spot is there for you if you want it. But what I don’t want is to have you back out.”
He winced.
“At the same time, if you find that when you get out here, you can’t do it, then we will let you off the hook. How’s that?” she said.
“No pressure?” he joked.
“No pressure.”
“Also I have another request.”
She waited quietly.
“Any chance we can make sure Sicily is not there when I’m with the horses?”
A really quiet silence followed. “Not there?” she asked, a frown forming between her eyes and wrinkling her forehead. “That’s
an interesting request.” She stared off in the distance and then gave a clipped nod. “I can request she not show up for that time, but I can hardly order her. It’s her free time.”
Instantly he felt better. “Right, I forgot it was her free time. Maybe she’d like to go into town or something that afternoon,” he joked. “Anywhere else but here.”
“So she’s not here to see you fail?”
He winced, his body shifting with the blow. “I wasn’t planning on failing.”
“No,” she said with a gentle smile, “but you weren’t planning on succeeding either.”
Chapter 17
The days fell into a lovely pattern as Sicily understood more and more about herself and where she was going in life. She had a few decisions to make, yet she was no closer to making them as part of her really enjoyed the night shift. She also understood this stage of her life was coming to an end, along with several other things.
Later that night Elliot was once again soaking in the hot tub. Sicily and the orderly moved him downstairs in an organized fashion. They had this whole routine down pat now. He usually needed about twenty to twenty-five minutes in the water and then to be helped back out again. The extent of her involvement had been getting him to the orderly. Tonight he seemed to be a little more stressed-out than usual.
The orderly had called her after he’d helped Elliot back to his room. “He’s still not in great shape. You may want to see what’s bothering him.”
She picked up a fresh cup of coffee and walked to Elliot’s room. He was in bed with the blanket up over his shoulders and appeared chilled. She studied his face for a moment. “You want a heated blanket?”
He shook his head. “No thanks, I’m fine. Just not a good night.”
“I can see that.” She waited a few seconds and then asked, “Is there anything I can do?”
He gave her a weak smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll lie here and see if I can fall asleep.”
She had her doubts as to whether that would work, but she’d give him a chance. She walked back to her office, checking on several of the patients as she went. It was a relatively calm night. She had patients checking out the next day and their files to update. One was going for a round of intensive reconstructive surgery, and another lucky person was going home.