by W. S. Greer
“Well, that’s really noble of you, Austin,” the major replies with an approving nod. “You don’t see too many guys who are willing to wait like that. That’s good.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Major, it gets hard, literally, but I’m okay. We’ll wait until she’s ready.”
Major Nelson chuckles and adjusts himself in his chair.
“Okay, well that’s really good, Captain. Honestly, you’ve made great progress in that department. Interaction with people is very important when dealing with PTSD, and having Layla and Jason around to communicate your feelings to has obviously been beneficial. That’s good to see. Now, how have things been with you privately? Are you still having dreams about Lieutenant Weston?”
My good mood fades a little with the mention of Weston’s name. I’ve been so busy spending time with Layla that I really haven’t had time to think about Lieutenant Weston. It’s a topic I’ve been glad to avoid, but when I come here, there’s no getting around it, which sucks.
“Umm, not as often as before,” I respond.
My eyes shift down to the floor as the memory comes back. The darkness of the night sky. The sound of the propeller blades spinning above us. The sound of gunfire and the bullets ricocheting off the chopper as I pull us up. The blood on the floor. His lifeless body lying there the entire flight back to the base, surrounded by his crying team members who considered him family. That terrible feeling of knowing I could’ve done more to keep him in his seat. I should’ve done more.
“Captain Sloan, are you okay?” I hear Major Nelson ask, but his voice sounds distant, like he’s asking the question from the hallway.
“Yeah,” I answer, looking back up at the redheaded major. “I’m good.”
“What happens in your dreams now, Captain Sloan?”
“Same as before. No matter what else is going on, I can’t save him. In the end, he always dies. I never do enough to save him.” I feel the familiar sting of tears climbing their way up to my eyes.
“How often do the dreams occur?”
“I don’t know. Not as often as when I first came back, and I don’t have those space-out moments during the day anymore either. I feel like I’m getting better.”
“Oh, I think you are, too,” the major replies. “However, you seem to still have some lingering issues with the topic. I think you avoid thinking about it as often as you can, and that’s how some people cope with traumatic events in their lives, but we don’t want you to just avoid it. Once you can accept what happened, and accept your actions, that’s when you’ll know that you’re truly better. That’ll be when you’ve truly moved on.”
“Isn’t it wrong to move on from something like this? I’m supposed to just move on from his death?”
“Of course it’s not wrong to move on, Austin. People die, and those that love them have to grieve and then move on, otherwise our lives end too. The only way to heal is to move on, and the only way to move on is to accept it.”
I don’t reply. I’m not sure if I really agree, so I just shift in my seat and wait for Major Nelson to continue.
“So, when do you go back to work?” he asks next.
“I still have a week of leave left.”
“I see. What’s going to be going on with your unit when you get back?”
“I’m not too sure, but I assume we’ll be training like usual—waiting for the next mission that calls us out.”
“So, here’s the big question, Captain,” he says, leaning forward and looking me in the eye. “When you come off of leave, you’ll have to sit in the pilot seat of a helicopter again. What’s it going to be like when you do that for the first time? Will you be able to handle it?”
“I hadn’t thought about that before,” I answer. “I don’t know. I want to say I’ll be fine, but I really can’t tell until I get there. I mean, the way my life has been going lately, it’s easy to think I’ll be okay. I’m doing good, sir, and I think I’ll continue to get better with every day. I’ve got Jason and I’ve got Layla to talk to when things get difficult, but when I’m with Layla, I don’t really have many difficult moments. I think I’m gonna be fine, Major, I really do. I guess when I come back next week I’ll let you know, but with the way everything has been these past few weeks, I’m optimistic.”
Major Nelson smiles at me, and then writes in the notepad. I can tell it’s not something good.
“Well, it’s good that you’re optimistic,” he says, finally looking up at me with a forced smile. “That’s always a good thing. Just remember what I said about acceptance, okay? I know things are looking up for you in your social life right now, but remember that avoidance isn’t a healthy way to deal with your issues. You have to confront them and accept them, and you seem to have a good support system to do that. You’re definitely getting better, and hopefully you can continue to show progress.”
“I hope so. I think so.”
“Good. Okay, Captain Sloan, that’s it for today. We’ll see you again in a week. You call me if you need me.”
“I know the drill, Major. Thanks. See you next week.”
Austin
“Can you say, case dismissed? That’s what I’m talking about, baby! Cheers.”
The four of us clang our glasses together and sip our drinks. Jason, Jordan, Layla, and I sit around a circular table in the middle of a packed Hard Rock Café, taking shots and eating in celebration of Jason and Jordan’s latest courtroom victory. Apparently, one of the arresting officers got caught trying to hide the surveillance footage showing the robber breaking into the house. Once the footage was found, Jason quickly got the charges dropped and made sure his friend stayed out of jail. Unfortunately, his victory means that he’ll be leaving Vegas soon, but I’m still glad for him.
“Congratulations, man,” I say, still shaking off the burning sensation from the shot. “Alright, so now that the case is over, break this down for me, bro. You had an arresting officer trying to hide evidence?”
“Yeah, can you believe that shit?” Jason replies. “Turns out, the robber was a friend of the arresting officer, and when he found out his robber-friend got shot and killed, he was pissed. So, he tried to hide the damn surveillance video from the house so my client would end up in jail for murder. Sneaky little bastard, huh?”
“So, how did he get caught?” Layla chimes in. She looks stunning in her royal blue dress with heels and earrings that match.
“The guy was a complete idiot,” Jordan says with a chuckle. “I guess he came up with his bright idea until all the stuff from the scene had already been checked into evidence. So, this dummy goes in and takes the video from the evidence locker. I guess he forgot everything in there is numbered, and once the trial started, everybody saw a crucial piece of evidence was missing. It took a little work to find the connection between the officer and the burglar, but once we did, we knew we had him. Just like that, case closed, bitch!”
“Wow. Well, I have to admit, you guys are awesome at what you do,” Layla admits.
“Oh, well that means a lot coming from you, Layla. Thank you.” Jason smiles and then sips his drink again. It’s something blue with a little yellow umbrella in it. Something girly that I already made fun of once, and I’m just waiting for another opportunity to jab at him again.
“See, so even though you’re absolutely horrible at basketball, at least you can win in a courtroom,” Layla jokes. Jordan and I laugh a little harder than we should. It’s pretty safe to say we’re all at least a little tipsy.
“Oh, so you got jokes? Whatever, we let you guys win,” Jason retorts. “You bring your ass to Seattle, where we have home court advantage, and we’ll see if you two get so lucky then.”
“Oh really, we have to fly all the way to Seattle for you to win? That’s just sad, Jason,” Layla responds just as her phone chimes and grabs all of our attention. She pulls it out of her purse and glances at the screen. I can tell she’s surprised by either the message or the sender, but she doesn’t reply. She just shov
es the phone back into her purse, and then refocuses on us.
“You okay?” I ask, seeing the tension in her face.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, then quickly moves into another conversation. “So, Jordan, I bet you’re ready to get back to Seattle, huh. Miss your wife?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Jordan answers. “We haven’t been married long enough to spend all this time apart. I miss my baby.”
“Aww, aren’t you just the sweetest guy ever,” Jason mocks as he reaches up and rubs Jordan’s bald head. “Look at you, you’re so pretty. Michelle is such a lucky lady. Come here and give me a kiss. Come on, I won’t tell Michelle.” Jason starts pulling on Jordan and trying to actually kiss his head.
“Oh my god, get the fuck off of me, drunk ass,” Jordan snaps. He’s smiling, but I can tell he’s serious. Jason looks like he may have celebrated just a little too much.
“You guys are a mess,” I start to say, but I’m distracted by another chime blaring from Layla’s purse. I watch her as she quickly reaches in and presses something on the phone, then she shoves it back into the purse again like she’s trying to bury it all the way at the bottom.
“Layla, what’s up?” I ask, because I can tell she’s bothered by something. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Austin,” she says, but I know she’s lying. Her brow is furrowed and I can see her jaw is clenched.
“You look pissed. Who keeps texting you?”
“Don’t worry about it, Austin. Don’t get jealous on me.”
Now it’s time for my brow to furrow, because I don’t know where that came from.
“Jealous? I’m not getting jealous, I can just see that you’re upset about something with your phone, and I want to make sure you’re okay. This isn’t a jealousy thing.”
Jason and Jordan stare down at their plates, acting like they’re not listening to us, but of course they are.
“Look, it’s nothing, okay. It’s just Marlene.”
“Okay. I thought you and Marlene were cool?”
“We are.”
“Then why does Marlene’s text seem to piss you off.”
“She’s not pissing me off, Austin. She just wants to talk to me about work because she knows I’m going back soon, and I don’t feel like getting into all that. Okay? That’s it. You can relax.”
“Okay, okay,” I reply. I know she’s frustrated about something, but I decide not to press the issue any further. Layla and I have managed to avoid any kind of arguments since we got together, and I don’t want to get into our first one in the middle of Hard Rock Café. But, just as I decide to let it go, her phone chimes again. I choose to ignore it when she reaches into the purse, fiddles with the phone, and then puts it back. Then, she grabs the purse off the table and places it on the floor next to her foot.
“So, anyway,” I say after I clear my throat and remind myself not to be nosy about the phone. “So, now that the case is done, how long are you guys gonna stay in Vegas?”
Jason and Jordan look relieved to finally be able to take their eyes off their plates.
“Well, we gotta get back soon. Jordan here needs to get back to his lady, plus we’ve got a booming firm to run. Work never stops.”
“Yeah, I bet it doesn’t, because you’re a big shot lawyer now. It sucks that you’ve gotta leave, though,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s been great being able to catch up with you, bro,” Jason says. “But you’ve gotta go back to work soon too, don’t you?”
I take a bite out of my burger and chew a little before answering.
“Yeah, I’ve only got two more days off after this. Layla only has tomorrow, then she’s gotta go back, too. It sucks.”
“So, you guys took a bunch of time off work so you could chill together?” Jordan asks.
“Well, it kind of just worked out like that,” Layla chimes in. She looks like she’s starting to get back to being her usual, happy self, which makes all of us more comfortable. “Our time off just kind of came up at the same time, so we took advantage so we could get to know one another.”
“And now the big challenge,” Jordan says. “Now, you have to get back to real life, with work and stress, and all the bullshit that comes with being an adult.”
“Yeah, but we’ll be fine. The past six weeks or so has been really great, so we’ll be alright,” Layla replies with a confident smile, but it fades when her phone goes off. This time, however, it’s not a chime, it’s just the obvious rumble of the phone ringing on vibrate. She doesn’t do anything this time, and eventually it stops.
“You better be fine,” Jordan says, sipping the drink again. “You guys are pretty good together. You suck at basketball, but you’re good together in other ways.”
“We suck at basketball?” I say as the whole table laughs together.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, so you gotta come out with us tomorrow night, Austin. We’ve gotta have a guy’s night out before we head back home,” Jason says to me.
“Man, I’d love to, but I can’t do it tomorrow night. Tomorrow is Layla’s birthday,” I say.
“No shit? How old are you turning, Layla?” Jordan asks.
“Turning twenty-two,” she replies. “Getting old.”
“Oh my gosh! You shut your mouth right now!” Jordan snips. “Do you know how old I am? I’m fucking thirty-seven, turning thirty eight in two months. I’m pushing forty, god dammit!”
“Aww, well at least you don’t look old,” Layla replies with a playful giggle.
“Ugh. Don’t talk to me the rest of the night,” Jordan jokes. “Anyway, well if you can’t kick it with us tomorrow, it has to be Saturday, Austin, because we leave on Sunday.”
I nod my head in approval. “I can do Saturday. Layla has to go back to work that night anyway, so I’ll be free.”
“Perfect!” Jason exclaims.
“Okay, so where are we gonna go?”
“I have no fucking idea, but we’ll figure it out. Just don’t cancel on us.”
“I’m not gonna cancel. It’s your last night in town, so we’re gonna make it a good one,” I say as I push my plate aside. My stomach feels like it definitely has a small child in it.
“Alright, that’s cool with you, Layla?” Jordan asks.
The three of us turn our attention to Layla just in time to see her staring at her phone. She looks like she’s both pissed and scared at the same time. I think to say something, but before I can, I see her shut off the power to the phone and toss it back into her purse on the floor.
“Yeah, of course it’s cool with me. Austin can do what he wants, I’m not his mom,” she says to Jordan with a blank stare on her face. “I have to be back at work that night anyway. So, I’ll be busy.”
We spend the rest of the night engaged in conversation about everything from politics to sports—especially basketball—but Layla never seems to fully recover. Something about the phone bothered her, and then stuck with her the rest of the night. Even while the four of us laughed and took shots of all kinds of alcohol, I could see she wasn’t quite herself.
The first thought I had was that Damien was trying to reach her and it was pissing her off. When she told me it was Marlene, I tried to believe her and go along with that, but I could tell it wasn’t Marlene. I haven’t met Marlene yet, but I know they’re friends and they enjoy talking to each other. I don’t have any confirmation that it was Damien, but I have a feeling in my gut that says it was. Nonetheless, I go on with my night and act like I’m not thinking about the weird shit going on with her phone and how it affected her. I even do a good job of hiding my suspicion when the night is over, and I realize I never saw her turn the phone back on.
Layla
“Hello?”
“Happy birthday, honey.”
“Aww. Thanks, Marlene. What’s up? How have you been, sweetie?”
“I’ve been good,” Marlene answers, but I can hear something’s different in her voice. She sounds worried, which makes m
e worried, and I think I have an idea why she’s calling, and it’s not to wish me happy birthday.
“It’s my birthday, you shouldn’t sound so depressed,” I say, choosing to get straight to the point. “What’s going on?”
Marlene hesitates and takes a deep breath before answering.
“Umm, did Damien try to get ahold of you yesterday?” she asks like she already knows the answer.
“Yeah, he did. Why?” I reply, remembering how my phone wouldn’t stop going off last night at dinner.
I remember sitting there with this feeling of annoyance and fear because Damien sent some weird text about needing to talk to me. I also knew he wouldn’t like it that I wasn’t responding to him, but I was out with Austin, and I didn’t want the night ruined because of Damien. He has already ruined one date, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin another one. In hindsight, I don’t regret it either. I did what I had to do so I could enjoy my night, and I’ll deal with whatever Damien wants to do when I get back to work tomorrow.
“Yeah, I overheard him talking earlier today about him trying to text you and then trying to call you, but you weren’t answering,” Marlene says as I place the phone on speaker so I can use both of my hands to finish putting on my dress.
“Well, I was busy, Marlene. I didn’t have time to deal with Damien.”
I hear her sigh.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”
“I mean, it’s just not like you to be so defiant, especially when it comes to Damien. So, is everything alright with you?”
I feel my forehead scrunching out of confusion.
“I’m fine. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Look, all I’m saying, sweetie, is that you and I both know how Damien can get,” Marlene says, and the worry in her voice is even more obvious now. “You know how he is, Layla, and he wasn’t happy about last night.”
“Look, I’m off from work,” I reply, feeling bothered by the fact that my good mood has been hijacked by a conversation about Damien. “I’m not obligated to answer him when I’m off. I was enjoying one of my last nights off before I have to go back to that hell hole.”