My Lifeline

by RP Fischer

  I do love my job. Seriously. But night shift means I’m asleep half of daylight to recuperate, and then I can’t get the motivation to finish anything else.

  The only light of my nights has been watching some of the moms sit with their babies in the NICU. The moms who are still here after difficult labors, we let them visit for nighttime feedings. I normally stand in the corner to give them space, and each time my heart swells with the raw happiness and love for new life. Each day as the nightmares continue about Bryce, my only real faith in humanity is these innocent babies.

  I think about their future circumstances.

  The little ones whose moms will have to raise them on their own.

  The ones whose moms die in childbirth and the dad is all alone.

  The ones whose family doesn’t even want them at all and would prefer drugs.

  The ones who have been trying for years and finally get their miracle. Those are always my favorite.

  Ninety-nine percent of the time my heart hurts for their futures. Many times I wonder what will happen to them once they go home, because then they just see the pediatrician, and I go on to help the next group of babies. Some parents check in with us later on, but most just fade into the population.

  I just finished making my rounds through the rooms when I start hallucinating that Aaron, in uniform, is walking in the moonlight toward the nurse’s station. He holds the delicious smell of coffee and some scones that have a familiar scent of Charlie. He really must be a mirage because he is the trifecta unicorn right now.

  Man I love, in uniform, and holding treats.

  Just in case none of this mirage is real, I don’t jump him for bringing me treats until he’s standing right in front of me, and I poke his chest to make sure he’s human.

  Thank the scones, he’s real.

  Instead of thanking him, my mouth decides to otherwise ask, “Aaron, what are you doing on a night shift?”

  He lays down the goodies before replying, “Because you are. The scones are Charlie’s gift. I told you that I would watch out for you. I switched shifts when Charlie told me your schedule changed, but this is the first time I’ve been able to get over here with matched days.”

  I take one out and take a small, quick bite.

  “Oh good gracious, those are divine.” I take another bite, bigger this time, and moan lightly. The sound of a grunt makes me remember that Aaron is here.

  His jaw is rigidly set. His eyes stormy and inviting and hold the feelings I’ve been wanting to tell him for a month.

  Charlie let it slip he was on night shifts, but I keep that tidbit to myself and pretend I didn’t know.

  Our schedules haven’t worked out once for us to really sit down and talk. I tried to make the time, I really did, but he knows me all too well and knows when I need sleep or time alone.

  I know there’s something else we definitely need to talk about, and that’s Bryce’s birthday. I finish off the scone and take a sip of the coffee before I speak again.

  “Thank you so much for bringing me these. I’ll text Charlie in the morning to thank her since she’s probably otherwise occupied right now.”

  “I’d rather not think about my sister and her occupying activities please.”

  I smack his arm. “She’s probably baking, you dirty minded dork.”

  A moment of shyness passes over me, thinking about what I want to ask him, and I fidget with the paper cup in my hands. “Will you come with me to the cemetery next week? With it being his birthday, I asked for the day off a long time ago, and I want you to come with me.”

  He cups my cheek and I lean into his touch, savoring the moment for as long as I can. His reply is what settles my entire body. “I’d do anything for you, Kylie.”

  This week would have been Bryce’s thirtieth birthday. I went with Kylie to the cemetery this morning and the last time I went with her, just the two of us, is still fresh in my mind.

  Five years ago

  Typically, I believe everything happens for a reason. Unfortunately, bad things normally happen that we cannot seem to understand. I know Kylie can’t see past the pain and sometimes, I can’t either.

  I saw death overseas, but I learned from it. I suffer from PTSD, but I fight through it every day with about a million different coping mechanisms.

  I also fight the guilt that I wasn’t there when Bryce died. I was deployed, and since he wasn't immediate family I wasn’t able to come back for the funeral and finally returned home a few months after.

  The first place I go to when I come home is his grave.

  I have to see it for myself.

  As I walk up, I see the vast amounts of flowers creating a fort around the plot. When I get closer, I see Kylie inside the brunt of it all. She’s leaning against his headstone, clutching his favorite hoodie. Even grief-stricken, she’s still so beautiful.

  I sit down next to her and put my arm around her. She curls into me, and we both just sit there and cry.

  I hold the love of my life in my arms, and I don’t want to let go.

  Through the tears, she says, “I’ve come here every day. I keep asking myself why?" She looks up at me. My heart bottoms out seeing her eyes so sad and destroyed.

  She asks, "Why can’t the pain just go away?"

  She sobs all over again into my chest. My hold on her tightens, and I kiss the crown of her head. We rock back and forth. I don’t know how long we sit there, but eventually the sun starts to set.

  Her breathing evened out a few minutes ago, so I pick her up and carry her to the small driving trail. I don’t see her car, which means she walked at least thirty to forty-five minutes to get here or had someone drop her off. I get the passenger side truck door open and get her buckled in.

  She snuggles into the seat, and her lips move a little bit. I lean in closer and hear her murmur, "I missed you, Ace."

  My chest tightens, and my breathing stops. I kiss her forehead and reply, “I missed you too, Kylie. More than anything."

  I text my sister to let her know I’m on my way up when I get to their condo so that she can open the door for me. I had already told her and my parents’ that the cemetery was my first stop. They were waiting with Charlotte when I said I was bringing Kylie home. I walk past them to Kylie’s room.

  I lay her down in bed, take her shoes off, and cover her with the blanket. She doesn’t even wake for a second.

  I brush some of her hair off her face, and my heart feels like it’s breaking all over again. Even in sleep, she looks to be fighting her inner demons. I wish I could take away the pain that crosses her face.

  I walk out of the room and immediately wrap my little sister in a hug that requires her to tap me that she needs air. My next hug is to my mom, resulting in another tap to stop squeezing.

  Both my mom and sister start chuckling a bit when my dad pretends to give me a small pat on the back before pulling me into a bear hug. We just stop and stare at each other before sitting down in the living room.

  The air is solemn.

  Family meetings were big in our house growing up, especially when Dad had to fly for a few days in a row. We never resented his schedule. Hell, it’s why I fell in love with flying. I fidget with the wings on my uniform before looking at my family.

  Charlotte looks back at me with sad eyes.

  “How is she?” I dare ask them, my voice unrecognizable.

  She looks down at her hands then at my parents’ and then back at me. One word, "destroyed", is all I need to hear before I start crying again.

  Yes, I just turned twenty-five this year—having done two overseas tours and countless missions—and I’m sitting here as a grown-ass man, bawling my eyes out. My mom gets up and starts rubbing the back of my neck from the top of my skull to where my shoulders start. It’s what she did when I was a kid and had a bad nightmare or fell off my bike. Or the time I tried to fly off a set of swings into a pile of leaves and missed, which resulted in a broken arm.

  I state to my family co
mpletely off topic. "This is my last year in the Air Force. I already declined reenlistment".

  I had decided this before Bryce died because I miss my family. I miss my friends. I’m sick of being gone all the time. I love flying and engines and helping protect those from a bird’s eye view. I thought enlisting was what I wanted, but now, I just want to be home.

  This last tour, one of the youngest guys in our unit was KIA. He was one of our errand runners, who was shot while conducting a checkpoint. I was with him when he took his last few breaths after being brought into the medical bay.

  His last words were, "I wish I was home."

  Shortly after, I got the e-mail from my mom to call home immediately and they told me about Bryce’s death. I fell to my knees in the middle of our desert compound. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I cried.

  I cried for the young airman, his family, the Mitchells, and my best friend.

  It was then I knew I wanted to be home and never leave again.

  I’m brought back to the family meeting by the sound of gasps. My family is shocked by my burst of information, but in all reality, I know they will support any decision I make. I tell them I'll be moving home in the next few months. I’ll be finding a civilian job and a place to live while everything gets squared away with my discharge.

  Over the course of the next few days, word spreads of my move home. The police chief finds me at the community center and offers me a job, should I make it through the academy. I decide to do it. I can protect my friends and family plus still live in the same city. I’ll start the academy two weeks after I move home, and I already put a hold on a condo in the same complex as my sister.

  I can’t believe my baby sister is growing up and in college. She told me she wants to open her own place some day after school. I’m just hoping I can con her into cooking for me a couple times a week in the process.

  I’ll help her in any way I can to make her cafe dreams into a reality, but I’m secretly glad she’s going to college for her business degree as a fallback.

  I fall into an uneasy sleep almost every night of guilt and horror in my parents’ house. It’s only when the ghost whisper of Bryce telling me it’s time I start fighting for Kylie do I wake up with an overly speeding, but easy heart.

  I’m pulled from my flashback when I hear the clearing of a voice. I look up to the couple standing before us whom I consider my second parents’. I look to my right to see Kylie looking up at her parents’ too with a smile on her face. She looks tired, but at the same time, like she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

  A part of me settles with the hopeful ideas forming that maybe everything is finally falling into place for us.

  The four of us leave the cemetery and make our way to the Mitchell house where my family is waiting for us, too. There is enough food here to feed a small army, and I know it’s the kind of celebration that Bryce would’ve wanted.

  My night shift scheduling has finally ended, and I neeeeeeed a night of fun. The life I used to lead wasn’t exactly glamorous. I worked too much, didn’t sleep enough, and distracted myself at random times with my friends.

  In ways, I was a lot like how Charlotte used to be, but I like to think I’m a little better at hiding my emotions now. I’ve perfected the art of the mask because between keeping families calm at work and my own nightmares, it becomes a routine to have it. I’ve slowly been trickling it away, but with work, it’s harder to keep my mind focused.

  My days blur together after a while and the only way I can keep myself from going too insane is by dancing until I collapse. I clear my head through the beats and lyrics, letting myself get soaked up in the moments.

  I usually take my frustrations out dancing in my room, but tonight I want to go out with my girls.

  With Charlotte’s wedding only a few weeks away, the stress is starting to get to her. Bree and I convinced her to take a night off from planning and to go to The Barn, a local warehouse turned into a club slash bar.

  The guys are shooting hoops at the community center, so girls’ night is in full swing.

  I’m in the middle of my makeup when Char busts through my door with both her bridal notebook and restaurant planner. She plops herself on my comforter and I laugh at the giant mess she’s going to make on my bed. Waffles nearly falls off the bed from the shock of the bounce on his precious spot.

  Through my laughter, I say, “You’ve been carrying those dang notebooks with you everywhere for months. You’ve become obsessed, and yet you’re probably having one of the easiest planned weddings thanks to all three moms.”

  Tossing her notebooks next to her on the bed, her eyes bore into my face when she replies, “Do you know how much I still have to do? For one thing, between both families and friends, we have like 150 people coming from all over the country, so that means housing them and feeding them at the reception. Second, Matt actually wants to be involved in the planning process. Grooms never want to have a say except when and where to show up and what to wear. He’s just lucky I let him pick the suits out for him and the guys. If I didn’t love him so much, I’d tell him to shut his pie-eating face.”

  “He’s trying to help so you can focus on opening the restaurant. I’m so looking forward to the soft launch after your honeymoon.”

  I watch my best friend as she sighs while falling back against the headboard. “Mmm honeymoon. Two whole weeks of twenty-four-seven Matt time.”

  At first, I can’t help but be envious of the vacation time. Then I realize that my mind would go in a million different directions if I had all that time on my hands.

  Before the two of us stay lost in our dream worlds of vacations, Bree joins in on the mini-party in my room. We take turns finishing each other’s hair and makeup to have ourselves one awesome girl’s night.

  The Barn is thankfully not too crazy as I can avoid feeling claustrophobic and self-conscious. Since I pretty much only drink whenever I plan to not leave the house at all, I keep my diet soda at the ready the whole night. Bree and Charlie have let loose a little bit, and I don’t blame them one bit. Charlie is so stressed out with the wedding and testing for the restaurant that she needs to be told to chill several times already.

  I’m sure her hot fiancé could distract her, but a woman needs her girlfriends every now and again to shake things up.

  Charlie and I have recently gotten into a Canadian country band called, High Valley, so we keep taking turns requesting their songs from the DJ. It took some arm wrestling for him to play the songs, but when Charlie threatened him with visits from both Matt and Aaron, he reluctantly obliged.

  Their song, “Young Forever,” comes through the speakers, and it’s exactly the song necessary for girls’ night! When the three of us are old and gray with a million grandkids between us, we’ll look back at times like these. We’ll forget any of the sadness from our pasts, only remembering the times we danced until our legs gave out.

  Bree convinces us to put the DJ out of his misery for a little bit and we go take a seat in the booths by the side. All the dancing is making me hungry, so we order a round of mozzarella sticks and loaded potato skins to munch on until the need to dance kicks back in.

  I see the plates of food before I see the waiter, and I look up to see Aaron’s handsome face smiling at me, holding my dancing fuel. I jump onto the vinyl seat to grab one of the plates from him.

  “Are you expecting me to tip you for bringing the food, Officer Hanston?”

  He sets the plates down as I see Matt coming around the back of the booth for Charlie. I think for a second that I feel guilty that Bree is ending up being the fifth wheel, but Aaron’s friend, David, shows up quickly, and they instantly start chatting about computers.

  My eyes glue back to Aaron as he towers over me. I can see my reflection in his eyes and it tears me up that I still haven’t told him that I love him. I instinctively spin my bracelet around my wrist and Aaron’s strong hand wraps around it. I notice he’s wearing his, too.

  He
laces his fingers with mine and asks, “Dance with me, Kylie?”

  I only nod as I follow his lead to the dance floor. “Rescue You” by High Valley comes on, and I giggle at the scowl on the DJ’s face from across the floor.

  Aaron spins me around the floor a couple times, before pulling me back into his hard toned body. I always appreciate the physical effort he puts into his body, especially when he’s not looking.

  He’s kept in impeccable shape. Not just when he was in the Air Force, but now as a cop, too. There are plenty of women here who turn their heads to look at him when he walks in the door.

  Although, I’m no longer blind these days to see that he only has eyes for me.

  The thoughts spread from love to lust as we move as one across the wooden floor. The skirt of my dress spins around me like clouds moving through the sky. When Aaron turns me back into his graceful body, he fists a handful of my skirt, almost baring my whole thigh to the room. I don’t care about anyone else here, just the man holding me, and the song over our heads. I stay in the moment surrounding us and only us.

  He mouths the words of the song as he holds me close. The top of my head pretty much only reaches up to his shoulder, and I fit right into the nook of his arms. I feel every inch of him, and I mean every inch against my small frame.

  I lean back and look up, smiling before I say, “You’re a sneaky one, you know that?”

  He pulls me back to him and brings his lips to my ear. “This song is everything I wish you would let me tell you. I know you don’t want to be rescued, but I just want you to know that I want to be the one you come to whether you’re happy or sad because my heart can’t take this wall between us anymore. I can’t take seeing the tears in your eyes and wanting to take away the pain, but not being able to. Let me in, Kylie. Let me be the lifeline that you need for love.”

  Tears start to form in my eyes, and he cuts me off before I open my mouth. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He chuckles sadly, “I just told you I hate seeing you cry.”