by Alicia Rae
“Yes, thank you,” I responded, gazing at the menu board to see what drinks they sold here. I inadvertently murmured my private reflections out loud, “Sometimes, being an only child was boring though. Maybe fighting with a sibling or two would have been fun.”
“Yeah, it was. When it comes down to it, my brothers and I all love each other, and we would do anything for one another,” Blake said reverently. Then, he gazed at me softly as we waited in line. “Were you a lonely child? Did you want your parents to have more kids?”
Slightly embarrassed from speaking my previous feelings aloud, I exclaimed, “Gosh, no!” with a little more oomph than needed. I envisioned the horror of another child growing up in the constant mix of bickering and yelling between my mother and father. “Actually, not having to share my toys was quite awesome,” I added quickly with reassurance.
Blake appeared thrown by my contradictory statements.
Feeling completely out of my element and a tad uncomfortable at my slip-up, I redirected my attention back to the menu board at the front of the pink elephant-ear stand. The couple in front of us moved over to the right side of the counter and picked up the shaker to sprinkle more powdered sugar on their treat.
The teenager behind the counter flashed an outgoing smile to Blake and me. “What can I get for the two of you?” she asked.
“An elephant ear, Mountain Dew, and…” He trailed off, gazing down at me as if waiting for me to add my order.
“Diet Coke, please,” I finished.
“Anything else?”
“No, thank you,” Blake replied, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet.
After paying, Blake and I sidestepped over to the right, so the next person in line could place an order. Our food was ready within a few short minutes. I reached for our drinks while he grabbed the plate.
Together, we started to stroll forward while looking for a seat within the park.
Blake gestured at an empty wooden bench between two other vendors. “How about here?”
“Looks perfect,” I answered, grateful we could sit and eat out of the walking path.
Once we were both seated, Blake broke off a chunk of the elephant ear and held out his hand, offering it to me. “Would you like some?”
“Yes, please.” I extended my right hand out that was holding his Mountain Dew. “I’ll trade you this caffeinated sugar drink for that cholesterol disaster.”
“Sounds good to me.” Blake laughed and swapped with me.
I hurriedly took a bite of the delicious fried elephant ear, resisting the desire to moan as soon as the powdered sugar hit my tongue and melted. For as unhealthy as it was, it did not lessen the mouthwatering taste.
Blake swallowed his own bite and asked, “So, may I ask what you do for a living back in San Francisco?”
“I’m a nurse at a local hospital.”
I looked up and caught his gaze. I was already learning what the look in his eyes meant. He wanted more information.
“I was accepted into a nursing program there. For it being my first experience away from home, it took me next to forever to learn a new area, especially in a major city, but I loved the independence. Then, after I graduated, I applied to UCSF Medical Center and was offered a position on their staff.” I smiled at the memory. “I knew it was the right place at the right time for me.”
“That is something I can understand and relate to.” Blake’s look was soft. “Sometimes, I feel we don’t always pick our careers. They have a way of choosing us.”
“Exactly.”
“What made you originally want to become a nurse?” he asked.
There was a long explanation, but the shorter version seemed more appropriate in the given circumstances. “I always wanted to help others or make a significant difference in another person’s life.” I could feel Blake staring at me, listening keenly, so I continued, “Then, during my clinical rotation in college, I had the opportunity to see several types of nurses specializing in unique fields. Triage care was my passion from day one and seemed to be the best fit for me. I felt like I would be at home there.”
His eyebrows rose slightly, appearing taken aback yet resembling a sense of pride. “So, you like the fast pace of the ER?”
“Yes, you could say that,” I deliberated, knowing this conversation was about to deepen. For some unexplainable reason, I was okay with letting him see this side of me. I felt comfortable with him. “Although, most of all, I understand that nurses have the opportunity to make a difference in someone’s life. Just like the paramedics who are the first medical professionals to arrive on the scene, nurses are the first to assess patients once they arrive at the hospital.” All at once, memories of my profession over the last few years flooded my mind—some good and rewarding in every sense of the meaning and others exceedingly sad. “One move, one decision, has the power to decide a person’s fate, if they live or die. At other times, it’s out of our control, and there is nothing we can do to save a life. It’s in God’s hands.”
Blake nodded his head in acknowledgment, but his mind seemed to drift somewhere else. He looked as though he were unreachable. It was a side of him I had never seen before.
Respecting his military background, I instantly regretted bringing up the topic of life and death, not knowing what kind of demons he’d personally endured. Surely, he had to have some. We all did in our own way.
Hoping I had the ability to bring him back with me to the present, I inquired, “What about you?”
A few long seconds ticked by before he finally rotated to face me. Intense, deep emotions I could not place had darkened his eyes. The look stole my breath and made my heart constrict. Just as quickly as he’d revealed his expression, he closed it off, blocking me, as if denying me the right to see or make any type of assessment.
At last, he told me, “When I first entered the Marines, I thought I would serve my four years in the service to get the experience and education I was looking for in life, and then I’d be on my way to college.”
His gaze was far off, not on me or the carnival around us, as he looked far past the tree line. I silently wished he would look at me.
“One thing led to another, and I was hooked. I have served next to some exceptionally great men and women over my two terms, who added a whole new meaning to the words bravery and honor. Like them, I, too, wanted the American people to be safe. I wanted all the horrific and unthinkable terrorists in the world to be gone for good. Then, over time, I felt the need to feed my knowledge into every eighteen-year-old young man who had entered the Marines behind me, who shared my same passion to protect and serve our country, and I wanted to give them a leader,” he finished, his voice radiating with absolute strength and dignity that I respected.
To hear his love for his country left me in complete awe of him. I took in and let out a deep breath to rein in my feelings from hearing more about this special part of his life.
“So, you miss serving then?” I asked softly even though I already knew the answer.
He glanced over at me. Those intense emotions were back in his eyes, full force, tugging at my heart. “Yes. Every. Single. Day. That is why we soldiers stay and extend our term…because of the undying love for our country, our brothers and sisters, and the need to protect what is ours. It is in our blood.” His brow creased as if he felt guilty. “But then there are times, after eight years of service, when I feel it’s time to move on, to find a new purpose in life, another reason for living and surviving through all those excruciatingly painful dark days when so many of our soldiers gave their lives for our freedom.”
Oh my…
I exhaled, still lost in his humbling speech.
I always had mixed feelings toward the military because it had taken my father away from my mother and me. Day after day, he had been gone, even during the moments when we’d needed him the most. If my father could have just explained his reasoning to us—as Blake just had—for leaving us year after year, then it could ha
ve saved my father from endless arguments and headaches with my mother and countless tears shed from me.
Overwhelming feelings coursed through me with unbelievable intensity. The sincerity and conviction in Blake’s eyes was my final undoing. I let my instincts take over. I reached forward with both my hands, and I tenderly cradled his jaw close to my face, caressing either side of his cheeks with my thumbs.
I could hear the change in Blake’s breathing as it slowed and deepened. His eyes beamed right through me, straight through all the steel barriers I had so assiduously locked around my heart, which he seemed to so easily break past.
“You’ll find your purpose, Blake.” I stroked the pads of my fingers across the dark stubble on his face.
He was so beautiful on the outside with the way he carried himself every time I saw him. He wasn’t one to back down or walk away when the going got rough. And I was quickly learning his heart held the same inner beauty. His passion, his drive, his devotion to his country and the people he loved was admirable. He was already what most people strived to be.
“Whatever that purpose might be or wherever it might lead you in life, you deserve to find where you’re destined to be, so don’t ever feel guilty for wanting to live.” I didn’t know every single detail there was to know about Blake, but I did know that his heart was good, strong, solid, and in the right place.
Nothing could stop me from leaning forward and sweeping my lips across his with a gentleness that had all my senses kicking into gear. An appreciative groan vibrated from Blake’s chest. He set a hand on my head, his fingers twining into my hair, as he tucked his other palm around the small of my back and pulled me closer. His tongue parted my lips to deepen our embrace with a determination that yearned for more.
My body leaped and soared at his touch—only to do a sudden nosedive at the sound of my phone ringing from within my pocket. The ringtone was one I had specifically programmed for my father. Realizing he would only call if he needed something from me, which usually meant for my mother, my body automatically coiled with tension against my will. Talking to my mother was easier than dealing with him.
I could have sworn I felt Blake’s posture briskly shift, mirroring my own, in the same instance.
Before I could even blink or frown at the loss of the hypnotic spell that had completely enraptured me, it evaporated into thin air. I wanted to chase after it, but there was no use.
Instead, I retrieved my phone from my pocket and slid my finger across the screen before lifting the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Audrey!” my father hollered from the other end of the line.
Cringing, I instinctively yanked the phone back from my ear. “Yes?” I responded, looking off to the right to focus on the merry-go-round. I was too embarrassed to meet Blake’s gaze, which was undoubtedly on me.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” my father yelled, not pausing for me to actually answer him. “You need to get home right this instant. How could you leave your mother in such a poor condition? She’s running a fever, and she said she isn’t feeling well!”
During my mother’s chemotherapy rounds, she often felt nauseous and ran low-grade fevers. The doctor had said that was normal during chemo as long as the fever didn’t last over twenty-four hours without breaking. He’d given her a prescription for anti-nausea pills and a pain reliever to comfort her. Besides her normal crankiness toward me, Mother had been perfectly well with no signs of any symptoms when I left the house earlier.
“Did you give her the medication I left out in the kitchen?” I had left her next dosage ready on the counter, next to my notebook where I would track her medications daily.
“Of course not!” my father scoffed loudly. “I don’t know how to regulate all her medications or what to give her! I think you need to call her doctor!”
My father would say this every time I left the house even though I had explained step-by-step instructions to him, which he’d apparently chosen to blatantly ignore. He had no clue what was going on with my mother because he never went to the doctor’s appointments. In turn, I would receive this same phone call. Then, I would drive home, only to call the doctor and get the same answer.
My mom was sick. She had stage-four lung cancer. The cancer was aggressive, and the chemotherapy had to be just as aggressive if she was to stand even a chance at beating the illness. It made her have flu-like symptoms along with aches and pains. It was the worst possible treatment to watch a family member go through. All we could do was give Mom her meds on time and care for her.
“Her pills are in the kitchen. I have her dosage and times written out in the spiral notebook.” I glanced down at my watch and frowned. It seemed her pain-reliever medication constantly ran out well before her next scheduled dosage. Therefore, her pain always managed to beat any chance of relief. “She isn’t due for her medicine for another hour.”
“I’ll leave that part up to you, Audrey, so you need to hurry back.” He sighed. “I have things to do today.”
And there it was—my father at his finest. He was the very reason I could not leave my mother alone. If I did, she would have no one, not a single soul, to care for her, especially when she needed it the most. No matter how distant and detached my mother was toward me at times, she was still my mother, and I would love her always. My father, on the other hand—well, there was just no emotion there. My feelings toward him were dead.
This very circumstance was one of the reasons why I would never marry. My father had vowed in sickness and in health, yet when my mom was ill in her bed, struggling for her very next breath and for her life, he ran in the opposite direction.
This right here was my reality check. The reminder was a cold, harsh slap in the face. Those big, bold shields of steel armor reared up into view and bore down tightly around my heart once again, snapping me back into my funk.
I stood to my feet, letting out a silent breath, as I prayed for the courage to restrain my anger and bitterness toward my own father, who had so carelessly fired it at me time after time. “I’m on my way,” I replied despondently.
Before I could even say good-bye, my father hung up.
A gentle touch landed on the side of my shoulder, causing me to hastily pivot around. I inhaled deeply in an attempt to pull myself together. Then, I swept my gaze up to see Blake’s eyes fixed on mine.
The silence was thick as we studied one another. If his eyes had been intense earlier, it was nothing compared to this instance. It was too much for me to bear. I felt walls closing around me, shutting me down from the inside out, as I took a backward step, still near the table in between the two vendors. I shifted my attention to anything but him, unable to take the embarrassment and shame plaguing me from knowing he had heard the phone call with my father.
How could I have forgotten to step away before answering my cell?
He stepped forward after me. “Audrey, wait.” His expression was full of sympathy.
I murmured, “I have to go,” in a low tone, unable to trust my voice.
His hand gently grabbed my shoulder, and he repeated, “Audrey, wait.” His eyes pleaded for me to be reasonable. “Please talk to me for a second.”
“I have to go help my mother.” My voice was disconnected as I continued my backward strides. “She needs me.”
Blake frowned. “Is she all right?”
“She’s not feeling well.” I pondered briefly. Mom’s next appointment would be next week. All I could hope for was that they would maybe improve her medication to make her more comfortable. “I need to be with her,” I continued, praying he would back off.
Blake’s stare appeared to fill with a myriad of questions. “Does your father ever help with your mom? Or does he just bark orders at you?” His tone was calm yet reflected an underlying frustration over my withdrawal from him.
I refrained from gaping at his straightforwardness. “I’m all she has, Blake,” I said back defensively.
He neared and quietly said
, “She has your dad, too, Audrey. There isn’t any reason why he can’t help out with your mom for a few hours, so you could have some time to yourself.”
A bitter laugh seeped past my lips as I tipped my head up to meet his eyes. Blake was very perceptive. I had to give him that. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t change anything.
“Yeah, that would work better if my father actually cared for my mother.”
“You have your own life to live, too, you know,” he countered, his tone sincere.
I was too angry to be reasoned with.
There it was—back to the root of my problem. He would never understand why I felt the need to stand by my mother’s side unconditionally, so he couldn’t possibly stand by my side and truly support me. No matter how short her time might be or the way she treated me, I would love her enough for both my father and me.
Reality check number two slammed into me, sucking the air from my lungs. A cold wave of actuality doused over me, soaking me, and it gave me another reason why I never wanted the relationship my parents had. When the going got tough, everything would fall apart because nothing lasted forever—especially love.
Here Blake was, telling me not to care for my mother, and I was a nurse, for Pete’s sake. In all fairness, he only had a piece or two of the puzzle, which was my doing. However, in the present moment, the rational part of my mind was too clouded to be argued with.
“Thank you for today, Blake,” I finally responded with utmost sincerity. I pushed away the overwhelming disappointment that this would be the last time I would allow myself to see him, so I drank him in one more time, wishing my life were different. I hastily tried to memorize every feature of his face, the way his lips had felt on mine, and the light in his eyes when he smiled. “I had a wonderful time, but I have to go now.”
With that, I walked off toward the exit, forcing myself not to look back.