State of Shock

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State of Shock Page 17

by Allison B Hanson


  Mrs. Fisher opened the door before Sam had the chance to reconsider and run away.

  “You look just as bad as the other two,” she said with a frown. Sam’s muscles tensed, ready to lock himself down if necessary.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to let me see him. I just wanted to check in on how he was doing. Is he okay?” Sam asked.

  To his surprise, the woman opened the door and let him in.

  Luca jumped up from in front of the television and ran to him the way he always did. Only this time his lip was twice the normal size, with an ugly red scab forming.

  “I’m so sorry, Luca,” Sam said as he leaned down to scoop him up and hold him to his chest, abandoning his plan to keep his distance. Tears pricked at his eyes. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

  “We just gave him some medicine, because he said it hurt. But he’s going to be okay,” Mrs. Fisher said.

  “Penguins!” Luca pointed to the television. “Come.” Luca was already sliding down. He took Sam’s hand and tugged him toward the living room. Just like that, Sam was forgiven for his horrific act and was being invited to watch a movie.

  He’d heard how kids were resilient. He remembered seeing McKenna snap back from things quicker than an adult could when she was little. But he had never been the cause of her pain. He shouldn’t be forgiven this easily.

  “I don’t think I should.” Sam looked up at Luca’s grandmother.

  “He told me you were going to watch it with him, but you had to leave. He seemed pretty upset about it. Maybe enough men in his life have broken promises and you should just sit down and keep this one,” she suggested with a firm pat on his shoulder.

  She was forgiving him too.

  “Thank you,” he said, giving her a hug.

  She returned the embrace. “I don’t know how you boys do it. My Roger kept so much ugly stuff locked up in his head. It only ever came out when he was sleeping. I think talking helps; if you ever can, you should.”

  Sam nodded and allowed Luca to pull him to the sofa. “I’m going to do that, ma’am. I promise.”

  Sam sat down and Luca crawled up into his lap without an inkling of fear. He rested his head on Sam’s chest, giggling at the funny parts. The movie went by in a blur. Sam dreaded the happy ending because he knew it meant his time was up.

  “I have to go now,” Sam said, working to keep his voice steady.

  “No,” Luca whined. “Penguins again.”

  “I can’t. I need to go.” Sam got down on Luca’s level so he could look him right in the eye. “I’m not going to be around very much, but I want you to know I love you, okay? Don’t forget.”

  Luca nodded and wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck.

  “Love you.” He gave Sam a smile which was contorted from the injured lip. “Bye-bye, Sam.”

  “Bye, buddy.”

  Mrs. Fisher patted his shoulder as he passed by her. He didn’t stop to say anything other than offer another, “Thank you.”

  When he got in his truck he was more determined than ever to get his family back. He knew now that he considered Riley and Luca his family, and he couldn’t imagine the rest of his life without them.

  Talking about it helps, Mrs. Fisher had said. It was time.

  He held his phone to his ear as it rang.

  “Hey. How’s it going?” Ian answered.

  “You once mentioned seeing a therapist. You said she helped you get your head on straight,” Sam said, not caring if he sounded desperate or frantic. He was both those things.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think she could help me? My head is on straight, but it’s full of all kinds of shit that keeps messing me up.”

  “Her name is Dr. Younger. Hold on while I get you the number.”

  A few minutes later, Sam had an appointment for a miracle.

  Chapter 12

  “Sam came to see Luca today,” Anita said when Riley got in the door.

  “What?” She’d obviously heard the woman, she just couldn’t believe Sam would sneak behind her back to disobey her wishes.

  “I wasn’t sure how you wanted me to handle it. But he’d promised to watch a movie with Luca before everything went wrong and he wanted to make good on it as well as wanting to check on him. I didn’t think you would mind. It’s nice that he’s not the kind of guy who could just walk away without a care.”

  “Was Luca okay?” Riley asked, because that was the most important thing.

  “He was very excited to see Sam, and then he cried by the door when Sam had to leave. Just like every other time Sam has to leave.”

  “Do you think he’ll come back?” Riley wasn’t sure if she wanted that or not. If Sam came to Anita’s, Evan wouldn’t be able to use him against her.

  She hated that Evan was dictating who was allowed in her life with his threats. But unfortunately she wasn’t in a position to stand up to him.

  “I’m not sure. He seemed pretty upset when he said goodbye. I think he’ll respect your wishes and stay away.” Riley nodded. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “It isn’t what I want. But . . .”

  “Evan.” She sighed. “Maybe I could talk to him.”

  “Maybe you could get him to sign away his custody.” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She knew Anita wouldn’t want her son to give up his rights as Luca’s father. Not that he was any kind of father.

  “I did ask him,” Anita said quietly, shocking Riley.

  “Really?”

  “I asked him to step away if he wasn’t going to step up.” She crossed herself and looked up at the sky.

  “Wow. Thank you.” Riley was deeply touched.

  “Don’t thank me. It didn’t do any good. He just yelled and hung up. I haven’t talked to him since. I don’t know whatever happened to the sweet boy I raised.”

  “I married him and then one night he went to work and never came home.” Riley remembered the almost instant change in Evan’s personality.

  Anita gave her a hug. “You know if it ever came down to it in court, I would take your side. That would have to count for something,” she said.

  Riley appreciated the sentiment, but she’d never be able to ask Anita to stand up against her own son. No matter how horrible he was now. “Thank you. The problem is I don’t want it to go to court. They would force me to allow visitation, and I can’t let Luca go across the country for weeks at a time. It’s just better if we don’t make waves. I can take care of Luca on my own. I’ll be okay.”

  Anita smiled, but Riley could see what hid behind it. Doubt.

  Riley was feeling the same way. Her savings account was nearly dry. She was getting a few orders for her jewelry, but so far she wasn’t making a lot of money. She just needed to push on. Things would work out.

  She dropped Luca off at home and got ready for her extra shift at the hotel. McKenna showed up right on time in her new-used car.

  “So two more weeks until you’re off to school, right?” Riley said.

  “Actually it’s only one more week.” McKenna frowned as she looked into the living room where Luca was sitting on the sofa. “I’m only going to be able to watch him until Wednesday. I need to pack, and my mom wants to spend a day doing girl things before I leave.”

  “Of course! I’m sorry I got my weeks mixed up. I appreciate how much you’ve watched him. He has a great time with you. I’m sorry I couldn’t pay you.”

  She gestured out at the car. “I got what I wanted out of the deal.”

  “I know, but I’m pretty sure he would have given you the car anyway.”

  “I’m pretty sure he would have too. But then he would have thought he had a right to boss me around. Now I can say it’s mine.”

  “Smart girl.” Riley laughed. “Luca, I need to go.” He came over and she bent down to give him a kiss. “I love you.”

  “Love you, Momma.” Those words would get her through her shift at the hotel.

  She had this.

 
* * *

  Sam sat down in the waiting room beside a large plant that was encroaching in his space. The place was small, with only four chairs. If he didn’t sit next to the plant, he would have to sit next to the other lady without a buffer chair in between them. He’d have to deal with the plant.

  He picked up a magazine and moved a leaf out of his face so he could read. Most of the times he’d had an appointment with a doctor, he sat in the waiting room for long periods of time. He never understood why he was supposed to arrive fifteen minutes before the appointment just so he could wait for thirty minutes past his appointment time.

  Of course that wouldn’t be the case with this appointment. Not when he wanted to put it off as long as possible. No. He couldn’t catch a break.

  The doctor opened the door and said good-bye to her teenage patient before turning her eyes on him.

  “Sam?” Dr. Younger startled him even though he expected he was next.

  “Yes.”

  “You can come on back.” Shit.

  He stood, knocking a leaf off the aggressive vegetation.

  Her office wasn’t what he expected. The furniture wasn’t dark leather, and there wasn’t even a couch. Everything was some shade of green. Moss, forest, hunter, he was sure it was supposed to be calming, but he felt like he was in the jungle.

  Sam wondered how many Vietnam soldiers she saw for PTSD, and thought her color choice probably set them back on their recovery.

  “Have a seat,” she said. Sam sat in the first green chair inside the door, ready to escape if needed. He worried she might know why he chose that spot. Did that make him seem unstable? Hell, his mind was flying a million miles an hour and he broke out in a sweat.

  The doctor sat down across from him and crossed her legs. She was wearing black slacks and flats. She was attractive enough, but the fact she could see into his thoughts made her too intimidating to consider. Besides, there was only one girl he wanted. And even though he’d rather jump out of the window than talk about his problems, he was going to stay and try to get better. For her. He needed to do this so he could be with Riley and Luca. And he needed to do it for himself too.

  “So what’s going on with you?” she asked as she flipped over a piece of yellow notebook paper.

  He took a deep breath, ready to do his best. The only way to have Riley and Luca in his life was to get through this hell. He could do it. “Since I’ve been home, I’ve been jumpy around loud noises. I also have nightmares.” He’d already filled out a novel-sized questionnaire so he knew she understood where he had been before he came home.

  “Jumpy?” she asked, calling him on the understatement.

  “Right. I react before I can think. Sometimes protectively, sometimes. . . the opposite. My girlfriend has a three-year-old, Luca. He was playing with a toy gun and I yelled and broke it. I hurt his mother when I pulled her to the floor. It happens so fast.”

  “And what about the dreams?”

  “Mostly it’s the same thing every time. I had an issue a few years ago, but I was doing better until Luca tugged on my arm while I was in the middle of a terror. I woke up swinging, and he got hurt.”

  Sam swallowed down the lump that truth still brought to his throat.

  “I hurt him.” He rubbed his forehead. “His mother doesn’t trust me to be safe around her boy, and I don’t blame her. I don’t trust myself either. I would never hurt him intentionally, never. But I’m not myself when I’m having bad dreams or something startles me.”

  She nodded.

  “Can you fix me?” he added.

  She smiled. “I can give you the tools to help you fix yourself, but there are no guarantees. You might always have issues.” Sam frowned. He had heard this same line from the last therapist. “It doesn’t mean you can’t have the life you want.” That was exactly what it meant. “We can come up with ways for you, your girlfriend, and her son to cope with your sleeping issues. It would be the same as if you snored and kept them awake.”

  “Snoring doesn’t land a little boy in the hospital with a busted lip and a concussion.” Sam shook his head. “It could have been so much worse. What if I had snapped his neck?” Sam had tried very hard not to think about this possibility, but it was important this doctor knew what she was dealing with.

  “Could you do that?” she asked.

  “I’ve been trained how to do that sort of thing.” And more. He could tell from her pale face she understood. He didn’t need to go into the details.

  She nodded and reached over to the edge of her desk to pick up a prescription pad.

  “How’s your blood pressure?”

  “Fine,” he answered as she began writing. “Look, I’d really rather not have to take some drug that makes me tired or loopy. Can’t you show me how to meditate or something?”

  “I’m not prescribing you an antidepressant. We’ve had some success with a blood pressure medicine that can help you sleep better. I’d like to start you on a very low dose and see if you notice a difference. If you feel dizzy stop taking it right away.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re also going to work at this from the outside, and yes, even meditation.”

  She laced her fingers together and rested them on her legs. It was a casual gesture, but Sam knew what came next. The hard part. Talking.

  He had to tell her about the dream.

  She asked very detailed questions. Things he had never noticed before, like how young the boy was that shot him. How many insurgents were coming up the hill? Had it ever changed? Did he feel responsible for his men?

  That question took him by surprise. He knew he did feel responsible. They had been placed in his command. He was responsible for carrying out the mission and keeping them safe. But until she asked the question straight out, he didn’t realize how much he felt responsible for their deaths.

  The force of it hit him so hard, tears sprung to his eyes. He held them back, but barely.

  “I’m sure you were briefed once you healed from your injuries?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And was it determined you had done anything wrong?”

  “No. I followed protocol,” Sam repeated the words he had been told. Empty words that couldn’t bring back those men.

  “But you have doubts?” she asked.

  “Of course. Doesn’t everyone wonder if there was something else they could have done to stop something bad?”

  “Yes. That’s completely normal. What have you come up with?” she pressed.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay. Let’s look at it methodically, shall we?” She stood and handed him a large drawing tablet from her desk. “Let’s draw it out. Show me where you were. Where your men were, and which direction the insurgents came from. I’m sure you remember every detail. Let’s take a look.”

  He stared at the blank paper for a moment before he drew out the scene with a pencil.

  When he was finished she asked him to walk her through different scenarios. Ways he could have avoided being closed in. Each time he came up with something, she had a countermove that cut him off again and again.

  “There were just too many. Do you see?” she finally said after his last action failed. “You had two guys with you. There were eleven of them. You needed to get to the hill. There was no way to get to the hill without being surrounded. No matter how you played it. No matter what order you gave. It was impossible. You did your best. Now you have to find your peace with it. Because no matter what you could have done, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome.”

  Sam nodded in defeat, though he was still looking at the paper trying to figure out another way. It had always been his fault. For the last six years, he carried the weight of that, despite the Purple Heart he kept in his sock drawer.

  But looking down at the paper with all the futile scribbles, he realized it was a hopeless situation.

  When he left the office twenty minutes later he felt lighter.

  He’d
always believed he’d failed because he didn’t try hard enough. Now he knew the truth.

  Sometimes people fail, no matter how hard they try.

  * * *

  Riley wiped her tears away before Luca noticed she was crying. He kept asking for Sam, and every time a truck drove down the alley behind their apartment, Luca would run to the window to see if he was there.

  The lump and the fat lip were gone, but even after two weeks Sam was not as easily forgotten.

  “Sam?” Luca asked as he sat at the table to eat his breakfast.

  “Not today, sweetie.”

  “Workin’.” That was what she used to say when Sam wasn’t there. When he would be traveling and Luca would ask. She wouldn’t lie to her son, but if that was what he assumed she would let him. At least for a little while longer.

  “Come on. We have to go. We don’t want to be late to Grammy’s,” she said when he was still chasing the last of his Fruit Hoops around his bowl.

  “I don’t want to go to Grammy’s,” he said, perfectly clear.

  “Why not?”

  “I want to stay here.” She sighed. It did seem like the only time they spent at home was to sleep the few nights a week she didn’t work at the hotel. Now that McKenna was back in school, it meant Luca was at Anita’s all the time.

  “In two more nights I will be off work and you and I can watch movies and make mini pizzas. How does that sound?” It would be Anita’s bingo night and Riley didn’t want her to miss it. Anita was giving so much, Riley wanted her to at least be able to go to bingo. Especially since the week before she’d won a hundred dollar gift card to a children’s clothing store.

  Riley had been able to get Luca clothes for fall. He was getting so big so fast.

  “Can Sam come?” Luca asked.

  “I’m not sure, baby. Come on. Let’s go.”

  With a sigh, Luca got up and went to get dressed. He was a good boy, never throwing a fit, even when she felt like she wanted to.

 

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