On Solid Ground

by Melissa Collins

  He’s everywhere. Inside me. All around me. Completely with me. There’s no escaping him and it’s the most amazing imprisonment I’ve ever felt.

  His thrusts grow frantic, erratic, matching his breathing. “Oh, fuuck,” he growls. On one last pump, he comes in a heated rush, his body slumping completely against mine.

  Before he’s even caught his breath, he slides out of me and moves down my body. With his eyes locked on mine, he takes my dick into his mouth one last time. He’s fucking had me so close to the edge, it doesn’t take more than a minute to bring me to the brink once more.

  “Dax, I’m coming. You might want to move.” It’s a warning he doesn’t even bother heeding. After swallowing down every drop of my orgasm, he licks his swollen lips and trails kisses up my stomach, before grazing my lips softly.

  We lay in silence, letting the sounds of our labored breathing even out. Rolling to my side, I lean on an elbow and run my hand over his tattoo. “It’s healing nicely,” I say pointlessly.

  “Maybe on the outside.” His short words throw me for a loop, contradicting everything he’s said and done so far tonight.

  “I’ll get going now,” he stands abruptly and dresses without saying anything else.

  I want to ask what the hell I did to turn him. I want to figure out what the hell happened to make him change his tune. But then I remember that I need to push him away. He needs to keep his distance from the shit show of my life.

  I let him call Tonka off the couch and watch them walk out the door without so much as a backward glance.

  And despite my need to call him and make sure he’s okay, I let him walk out of my life, because I know that’s what’s going to be best for him.

  Though after what he just did to me, I don’t know how much I believe that.

  “You guys seem to be getting along really well.” Heather gives Tonka a treat as he sits calmly at my side. It’s the end of our first training session here at the VA center and I have to agree with her.

  “He’s a good dog. Easy to get along with.” Kneeling beside him, I scratch behind his ears as he jumps up in excitement, nearly toppling me over.

  Heather joins us on the ground, letting loose some loving on Tonka. The ground is littered with random toys and I toss a tennis ball out into the yard for him to fetch. After a few more tosses, Tonka is panting like a fool. Heather pours him a bowl of fresh water.

  Staff Sergeant Morris approaches the fenced-off dog training area. “Specialist Daxton,” he returns my salute in kind. “Time for the first session.” He doesn’t ask if I’m ready, or if I’ll be joining, so I guess I really can’t decline, no matter how much I really don’t want to be a part of it.

  “Go,” Heather offers a gentle nudge. “I’ll look after Tonka.”

  I don’t know if he can sense how much I don’t want to go, or if he can feel my nervousness, or if just in the last few days he’s become that attached, but Tonka wants no part of being left outside. Clicking his leash in place, we walk inside and I whisper a quiet “Thanks” to him for not making me face this alone.

  The meeting takes place in the gym. If it wasn’t for the vets sitting in a circle of folding chairs on the basketball court, it could easily be a gym in any high school. By the time I walk in, just about every chair is taken. There’s one seat open next to Morris and one next to a man who looks old enough to be my grandfather in a wheelchair. Sitting next to Morris sounds about as appealing as sitting on a cactus, so I opt for the other one.

  It’s only when I get myself situated in my seat, Tonka lying across my feet, that I realize the man next to me doesn’t have any legs. He watches me carefully, extending a hand to greet me. “Lieutenant Dan,” he says and I nearly choke on my own laughter.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I’m laughing so hard, I can’t even begin to follow the rules of formality and offer him a proper salute.

  “Of course I am. But that would be some pretty funny shit, huh?” The old man shakes my hand, and the rest of the circle joins in his laughter.

  “Don’t mind Franco.” Shocked, I look over to Morris joining in on the joke. “He loves pulling that one on the newbies.”

  Able to admit they were quick to dupe me, I hold my hands up in surrender. Despite thinking that maybe it won’t be so bad here, I choose to stay quiet through most of the session.

  The other men chime in with problems on topics which I have zero experience—wives, kids, mortgages, and college tuitions. I join in on their good-natured ribbing, but offer no valuable input. When there are about ten minutes of the session left, I feel like I might make it out of here intact.

  But Morris will have no such thing.

  “So, Daxton, you’re not a Cali native are you?”

  “No, Sir. Just moved here about a month ago.” Tonka sits upright at the sound of my voice. I’m not sure if it’s because I startled him or because he hears the tension mounting there at simply having to answer one easy question.

  “Anything you want to share about your adjustment?” It’s not really a question, even though he phrases it as so. It’s more of a you better share something before our time is up kind of threat—one that I know better than to ignore.

  Despite the fact that I say, “What’s not to love. The beach. The sun. Plenty of beautiful women. Life here is pretty amazing,” I feel exactly the opposite.

  Alone.

  Afraid.

  Pathetic.

  Tonka picks up on those emotions and rests his head on my thigh. Franco takes notice of it and nods at me. I’m not sure if Morris can see through my lie, but if he can, he’s not calling me out on it. With a curt smile, he dismisses the meeting, announcing we’ll meet at the same time and place next week. His direct eye contact with me does not go unnoticed.

  As I’m gathering up Tonka, Franco drops something to the side of his chair. “Here let me.” Handing him back his keys, he claps his hand over mine.

  “Have time for a walk?”

  Nervously, I look down at my watch. Sure I could come up with some kind of lie about having to get to work, or about someone waiting for me to get home, but it would be just that—a lie.

  There’s no one waiting for me.

  There’s nowhere I have to be.

  “Come on. The bus doesn’t come get me for another half hour and I need a smoke like you wouldn’t believe it.” Something in his tone reminds me of my grandfather and something inside me softens for Franco.

  Tonka and I walk him outside, over to a small picnic area that’s graced with a sign that reads Smoking Permitted.

  After he lights one up for himself, he extends the pack to me. “You want one?”

  Holding up a hand, I decline, but the smell immediately reminds me of Beck. It’s been three days since I walked out on him, since he pushed me away, since he made me face some feelings I’d been trying to bury for months.

  “So what’s your deal?” His question flies out of his mouth like the smoke of his exhale, freely and without shame. My brows knit together, not knowing exactly what he’s going for. “Your discharge. What brings you here to the wonderfully majestic grounds of the Long Beach VA center?” The casual coolness of his tone puts me at ease a little.

  “PTSD from battle trauma.”

  He nods at my response. “Nam did that to me. Bitch stole my legs, too.” He takes a few more drags of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground. “Mind stomping on that for me. I would but I’m fresh out of feet.”

  “Sure thing,” I laugh, loving that his jokes are not meant to elicit pity. There’s something about them that tells me they’re about making the best of the situation he’s been dealt. It probably doesn’t hurt that he’s had a few decades to get used to his new reality. After only a few weeks, I’m still struggling and I think Franco can sense it.

  “It gets easier.” His tone is more serious than just a second ago. “Doesn’t feel like it though, I bet.”

  “Not really.” Tonka whines in my lap, offering his canine
sympathies. “I thought coming out here would help me clear my head, but all I feel is guilt.” I shock even myself by saying so much. I haven’t really even revealed that much to Chloe. And forget talking to my family. Other than a few short phone calls with my mom, I haven’t spoken to anyone else. Part of me knows that they just want to give me space, but the other part of me is finding it hard to believe they care at all.

  “You gotta let that shit go. It’ll eat you alive and kill you from the inside out.” My brain recognizes Franco’s advice as meaningful, but my heart just can’t let go of the tremendous weight of it all.

  “How?” Tonka nudges my hand, begging me to pet him. “How do you let go of the guilt of being alive?”

  “By living the best fucking life you can.” Franco claps me on the shoulder, and offers me a look of understanding. “There’s my ride,” he acknowledges a blue and white bus pulling into the lot. “See you next week?”

  “As if Morris will give me a choice.” Unlocking his wheels, I push him toward the bus.

  He looks over his shoulder. “Give him a chance. The old man ain’t so bad. If he was, I wouldn’t still be coming.”

  After helping him onto the automated chair lift, the bus pulls away. His words playback in my head like the most annoying of loops. By living the best fucking life you can.

  Am I doing that? Hell no. There’s so much more I could be doing and I know it, but I’m letting my fear and my guilt get in the way of doing any of it.

  Even the other night, I pushed Beck, tried to get him to admit that we could work out. And that’s what I honestly wanted. But then when he pushed back, when he made me look him in the eyes, I chickened out. I was reminded of the only other person whose eyes I’d looked into and seen the world. The only person who’d ever been taken from me because I failed at protecting him.

  And I ran. Like a scared little boy, I ran away from Beck because the possibility of him making me feel something again scared the shit out of me.

  As I walk past his building, I wonder if maybe all the things I think I’m supposed to be are not nearly as important as all the things I can be. When I see his car in the lot, I decide I may as well try my best to salvage whatever I can of what we might have been. He’s not going to do it, after all. Though I might not want to admit it to him, because it’ll just fuel his argument about why we shouldn’t give it a go, the timing is pretty much for shit.

  You’ll never know unless you try.

  I walk up to his apartment and hover outside before knocking. As he approaches the door, I hear him yelling on the other side, “Violet Marie, let’s go! We need to–” his words die on his lips when he sees it’s me who’s knocking.

  “Hey,” he greets me with a hint of nervousness in his tone.

  “Tonka!” Violet yells out, barreling toward us.

  “Sure, for you she’ll get out of the bathroom,” he laughs, moving to the side, allowing me and Tonka to walk in. Violet pulls the leash from my hand, towing Tonka into the living room where she has a circle of dolls set up for a tea party. All too happy to vacuum up the cookie crumbs, Tonka sits there enjoying her little game.

  Beck and I look on. A happy feeling settles over me. Maybe it’s being here in his place, or watching Violet. I know in part it has to do with what Franco said to me.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about the other night.” Sliding out a kitchen chair, I sit down, trying my best to avoid his piercing eyes.

  “Me too,” he adds quietly as he sits next to me. “I never should have tried to pay you. That was a little whorish, huh?”

  I laugh. “Nah. I mean if you had tried to pay me after then, yeah.” Now that the tension is lifted slightly, I try for something a bit deeper than a simple apology. “I got a little freaked out.”

  “You think? See I told you this is why–”

  “I know what you’re going to say about it not being a good time and I know that by walking out on you I only made that seem more accurate, but it’s not. Sure, we’re both dealing with shit.”

  “Hey,” Violet admonishes from the other room. “Shit’s a bad word! Right, Uncle Beck?”

  “Sure is, sweetie,” he laughs, shooting me a beautifully lopsided smile. “We’ll let him get away with it since he didn’t know the rules, okay?”

  Seemingly satisfied with his excusing me, Violet returns her attentions back to Tonka and their tea party.

  “Look, Dax, I like you and maybe at another time it could have worked, but I have to focus on her. I don’t want her to have the life Nikki and I had.”

  “So then don’t. Let me help. We’re about as opposite as can be.” Beck laughs at my statement of the obvious. “But something about us works. This,” I angle my head to Violet and then back to him, “can work too.” He gives me a look that says go ahead tell me more before I shoot you down anyway. “We both need normal and stable, and without each other we don’t have it. But if we work together, maybe we can. Listen, you need someone to watch after her while you work and I need something to keep me busy during the day.”

  “But I can’t ask that of you,” he sighs, dejected.

  “You’re not.” I cover his hand with mine, my chest swelling when he doesn’t pull away from me. “I’m offering. Hell, I’m even asking you. Please let me help you because it will help me.”

  “Okay,” he agrees, shocking me with the quickness of his reply. “Besides, Violet found the book of piercing pictures at the shop yesterday. It’s a good thing she had no clue what she was looking at, but you’re right. The shop is no place for her.”

  “Deal?” I extend my hand and Beck shakes his head shyly. “Can’t renege now,” I say when he wraps his inked hand around mine.

  “No, I guess not.” And there’s something in his eyes that tells me going back on his word is the furthest thing from his mind.

  “So does that mean you’re free tonight? Because I actually have to be at the shop.” He slides his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. “Fuck, in like half an hour. We open early on Fridays and I’m the only one on today. I was going to bring her with me this afternoon and ask Lexie to watch her tonight.”

  “Yeah, I’m free. Go,” I assure him.

  He scurries around the apartment, gathering his sketchbook, wallet, and keys. Just like the other night, I walk him to the door. When he goes to hand me money, fury builds in my mind, threatening to burst out of my mouth.

  “Chill out,” he insists, shoving the money into my hand. “There’s no food. Would you mind?”

  Immediately regretful of the anger I almost let loose, I swipe a hand over my face, nodding at him. “Sure.”

  A weird silence settles around us. Did he only agree to keep me in his life because it’ll make things easier for him in terms of taking care of Violet, or did he choose to keep me around because he wants me?

  When he strokes his thumb along my bottom lip, cupping my jaw, all second guesses about his interests vanish. “I’ll see you later,” he says before popping a quick kiss to my lips.

  Turning back into the living room, I nearly lose it when I see that Violet has a tutu pulled up around Tonka’s stomach. “What did I get myself into?”

  It takes me nearly twenty minutes to get together Violet’s things for a simple trip to the grocery store. Luckily, Chloe only works half days on Fridays in the summer. The perks of working in a small office building. When I call her and tell her who I’m spending my afternoon with, she’s more than happy to pick us up and take us to the store. There’s an extra booster seat piled in the corner with Violet’s toys.

  “Well, aren’t you cute as a button?” Chloe is enamored with Violet the second she lays eyes on her.

  “Yes, I am,” Violet declares, twirling her bright purple skirt around to show Chloe. Well, in addition to Beck and now me and Tonka, too, Violet now has Chloe wrapped around her tiny finger. Not sure how he’ll be in a store full of people and not wanting to leave him in the hot car, I leave Tonka at Beck’s, promising him a box of bones when
I return.

  The ride to the grocery store is filled with Violet’s endless chatter about how she and Uncle Beck spent the day at the beach yesterday. She has so much to say, in fact, that she keeps talking through the first four aisles of the shopping trip.

  “He even let me bury him in the sand all the way up to here,” Violet raises her hands all the way to the top of her head. “Then he chased me into the water and let me ride on his shoulders. It was the best day ever.” Throwing her hands to the side, she seems to have exhausted herself with her endless story telling.

  “Hot tattoo man sounds like an awesome uncle,” Chloe whispers, reaching around me to grab a bag of chips.

  And I have to agree. One look at him and most people wouldn’t think of him as much of a family man, but I can’t deny the warmth with which he looks at Violet, the care and concern he feels for her. Knowing that he fought the system and his sister initially for the right to take care of her speaks volumes for what he’d go through for his family.

  Maybe we’re not as different as I initially thought we were.

  Aside from the minor temper tantrum over which ice cream flavor to get, we manage to get through grocery shopping rather quickly. That is until we hit the checkout.

  “What an adorable family,” the cashier chimes in as she scans the food. “You’re a very lucky man to have two beautiful women like these.” She points an appreciative finger at both Chloe and Violet. I know she means well and I have to admit that to anyone on the outside, we do look like the picture-perfect family.

  But rather than getting into how the family I’d like to eventually have will be anything but traditional, I smile and nod, telling her, “Thank you. I know I’m a very lucky man,” as I pay for the groceries.

  On the way home, Violet nods off in the car, surely tired from her endless story telling. Chloe follows behind me with a few bags as I carry Violet up the stairs. Gently placing her on Beck’s bed, she barely moves a muscle. The kid is down and out for the count. By the time I pull a blanket over her tiny body and make my way back out to the kitchen, Chloe is unloading the first of the groceries.