Making Peace

by Sasha Goldie

Everyone laughed as Carson let Tyler go and moved out of the way so Nate and I could say hello.

  "Nate," Tyler said excitedly, looking between Ian and Nate. "You're still here?"

  "We're getting married," Ian said, smiling broadly at Nate. "And I want you to be my best man." He looked back at Carson, who was probably his actual best friend. "Given the circumstances, we didn't think Carson would mind."

  "Not at all," Carson said, taking my hand with tears in his eyes. "I understand completely."

  Tyler looked at me curiously, his eyes drifting from my hand joined to Carson's to my face. "You look so familiar. And you've found someone, too?" He looked at Carson in amazement. "I take a little nap and everyone goes and gets themselves hooked up."

  "I'm Max," I said encouragingly. I didn't know if he'd had a head injury that caused him to forget me, or maybe I'd just been that unmemorable in high school. Probably the latter.

  "Of course, Max!" He looked from me to our joined hands, to Carson, and back to me. "I freaking knew it."

  Smiling at him in a confused sort of way, I cocked my head. "Knew what?"

  "That you were gay." He pointed at me. "And that you were gay." He pointed at Carson. "And that you two were having secret super-fun gay sex and not inviting me to play."

  I didn't just burst out laughing. I laughed so loud it made Carson jump. "We had a super-fun time together as kids," I said through my laughter. "But never sex. Neither of us were out, not even to ourselves."

  "Well, you were out to me," he said smugly before stifling a yawn.

  The little nurse stepped forward. "He's getting tired," he said in an authoritative voice. "I'm going to kick you guys out soon."

  "So what's the prognosis?" Ian asked. "When do you get sprung?"

  "Well, my leg is almost healed. The cast can come off any day now."

  His mom, sitting in a chair close to the opposite side of his bed, grabbed his hand. I hadn't been introduced to her or his dad, so I didn't really say anything to them. "He's been having seizures," she said gravely.

  "It's because there is a scar in my brain," Tyler said with an eye roll.

  "He's had enough of them that they're calling them epilepsy as a result of traumatic brain injury," his dad supplied, staring at his son fondly. "So, he'll be staying with us until he's a little stronger."

  He looked at his parents in surprise. "I'm not going to my apartment?"

  Daisy reached over and patted his hand. "Sweetheart, we had to let your apartment go. We moved most of your things to your parents’, but the bigger items like furniture we put in the apartment above the diner. The renter we'd had for years moved out with perfect timing."

  "When you're ready, boy, you'll move in up there." Duke nodded his head as if that settled it and no more arguments.

  Tyler looked up at the ceiling and pulled in a deep breath. "Okay." He composed himself and faced us all again. "I can handle it."

  "Why do you need to live alone?" his dad asked. The room grew uncomfortable.

  "Would you want to move back in with your mom and dad in your mid-twenties?" Tyler asked him with an eyebrow raised.

  "Good point."

  "I've always felt such a need to be independent. This isn't going to be easy." He looked around the room at his friends and family that had come to support him. "I'm glad you're all here."

  "We're just so happy to see you up and talking," Corey said. "And I know you still don't know me, but I feel like I know you. Brady has told me so much about you."

  Tyler smiled at him. "We'll get to know each other," he said before looking at Nate and me. "Anyone that puts up with these three will end up being a good friend to me. It's about time you came along to help me deal with the terrible trio."

  Everyone laughed, but Tyler stifled another yawn. "Okay," the nurse said sternly. "Time to go."

  "Patrick, you're so bossy." Tyler laughed, but his eyes had already begun to droop. "Bye, guys." Nate, Corey, and I waved at him and moved out of the way so everyone else could say goodbye. Stepping into the hall, we chatted for a moment while our partners said goodbye to their friend.

  Finally, they came out, all teary-eyed and smiling. "Anyone hungry?" Brady asked.

  We all nodded. My sandwich hadn't lasted long, and apparently neither had Carson's.

  "Let's go to the cafeteria," Brady said, a looking excited.

  I arched an eyebrow at Carson, wondering what was so great about the cafeteria.

  He chuckled and explained. "The hospital cafeteria is run by a little old lady that still believes in the old-fashioned way of serving up food. Nothing is from frozen. It's priced a bit high, but the quality makes it worth it."

  "Wow," I said. "Sounds great."

  We went through the line where they'd just begun to dish out lunch. The cafeteria was packed with hospital employees eager for a quality lunch.

  Our meal was pleasant. I sat beside Carson, but across from me was Corey, who I'd been trying to get to know in time times we were thrown together outside of work. I smiled and started a conversation with him, eager to become more accepted and more a part of Three Lakes. Whatever happened with my relationship with Carson, I was here to stay.

  By the time we got back to Carson's from lunch, it was time for us to get ready for work. We were going to be late if we didn't hurry.

  22

  Max

  "I’m leaving for the brewery," Carson whispered. "I’ve got to let the construction crew in today."

  Corey had relieved him for a few days so he could get some rest, but he was back to it now. I hadn’t left his house except to go to work since Monday.

  "Mmm," I moaned as he kissed my forehead, then rolled over to go back to sleep with a smile on my face. I loved being around him, sleeping in his bed.

  A few hours later I woke up to Droo staring at me from beside the bed. "Woof," he said, snuffling my face.

  "Okay, okay," I said with a laugh. Sitting up, I used my crutch to take me to the bathroom first thing, then into the kitchen. I let him out into Carson’s fenced-in back yard so he could pee, then returned to the bedroom to put on my leg and get dressed. I was off all day, so didn’t have anything pressing me.

  As I looked around Carson’s slightly messy house, I considered cleaning, but his laptop caught my eye.

  I hadn’t left, staying with him for a couple of days. But it didn’t feel real, or settled. I was just playing house with my new boyfriend.

  It had to stop. If I didn’t get my own mess together, I’d never be a suitable partner for anyone, much less someone as amazing as Carson.

  Booting up his laptop, I hit the internet browser icon and waited for it to load. The first page that popped up was a blog post about the most fabulous gay weddings of the past year.

  Holy shit. He was looking up wedding ideas? How far off track were we? I was barely okay with the idea of being in a committed dating relationship. I’d been staying with him a few days, sure, and I knew he had some pretty deep feelings, but I was a far cry from wedding plans. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  Slamming his laptop closed, I let Droo in and sat at the kitchen table, dumbfounded. What was I going to do? As I stared at Droo, drinking water from his automatic water dish, I knew exactly what I had to do.

  Distance.

  I took my time, but it didn't take me long to gather up all my stuff. I hadn't really brought much with me, and we'd only swung by my apartment to grab a few pairs of underwear and a change of clothes. Soon, my duffel bag was packed. I let Droo out again, made sure he had food and water and sat down at Carson's desk to write him a note. I didn't want to hurt him, that was the last thing in the world I wanted. But I had to do what was right for me first. Do-Yun had taught me that.

  As soon as I got home, I threw my clothes in to wash and opened my laptop. My internet search took me several hours as I combed articles, looked at applications, and laws surrounding service dogs and how to be a service dog trainer.

  I hadn't needed one, but I so
easily could have. And there were not enough dogs to fill the great need for them. Service dogs were amazing creatures and could save their person's life just by smell or feel. I wanted to be a part of that, a part of the amazing program.

  By the time I finished my research, I was recharged and eager. I had so much information to process, but I'd finally decided on an area I wanted to focus on. I wanted to train service dogs.

  I filled out the apprentice applications for several trainers within an hour's drive of Three Lakes, hoping I wouldn't have to go all the way to Portland. I didn't want to leave my parents again. Besides, I didn't have the funds to relocate again.

  All of the applications promised someone would be in touch within a week to discuss my options. The urge to call Carson and tell him the good news was overwhelming, but I was trying to sort myself out, not sort myself out with his help.

  As I sat down and considered the implications of starting a new career, I was sucked into my memories. They were the last place I wanted to be, so I decided to call my therapist.

  She actually answered. "Hey, Max, how are you?"

  "I'm okay, good, actually. Better than I've been in a while."

  "Do you need to talk?"

  "I really do. Do you have a minute?"

  "I had a cancellation. I'm free as a bird for the next thirty minutes." The phone rustled and she settled in. "Tell me what's up."

  "I think I'm ready to settle. To get more grounded."

  "That's wonderful. What's happened."

  "I met someone."

  "That can't be your only reason to want this. Is there more?"

  "Yes, I finally landed on a profession and applied."

  "Tell me about that."

  I explained the process for training service dogs.

  "Oh, Max, I'm so pleased. That sounds like it would be therapeutic for you as well. You've come so far."

  "I'm trying."

  "How much have you told Carson about your time in the military?"

  She knew everything except the specifics I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. "I think I told him all of it. All I can, anyway."

  "He knows about the dog?"

  "Yep."

  "Wow. What about your time as a prisoner?"

  "I told him that as well."

  "I'm certainly pleased you did, but Max, what about your parents?"

  My heart froze up a little. I didn't want to tell her. "What about them?"

  "Do they know you were captured?"

  I sighed. "No."

  "Well, you've certainly made progress. I think you would do well to start an open and honest relationship with someone that supports you and is loyal. But I'm giving you homework."

  "You always give me homework." I laughed because it was true.

  "Tell your parents the whole truth."

  The laughter died in my throat. Sucking in a deep breath, I sighed again. "Okay."

  "What are you doing now?"

  How did she know? "Nothing."

  "No time like the present."

  I thanked her for taking the time to talk with me, then disconnected. My stomach turned to lead as I stared at my phone and contemplated calling my parents. But no. If anything was an in-person conversation, it was this. The idea that I could call Carson and discuss the implications of telling my parents crossed my mind, but again, I didn't want to be dependent on his opinion before I could let myself do anything.

  Grabbing my keys before I could change my mind, I headed straight for my car, but Ian intercepted me on the way down. "Hey, Max, how's it going?" he asked, closing the hood of the car he'd been working on. "I didn't get much of a chance to talk to you at the hospital."

  "It's okay, and it's pretty good, I guess."

  "You and Carson seem to really be getting along." He smiled at me, unable to hide how curious he was about my relationship with Carson.

  "Let me ask you something." I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

  Ian straightened and nodded. "Sure, anything."

  "How did you know?"

  "What do you mean?"

  Leaning forward, I put emphasis on the last word. "I mean, how did you know?"

  "Oh, with Nate?" He smiled and looked contemplative. "We sort of broke up."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. He was going to go back to Portland after staying with me for about a week. And when he left, I was torn up. I just wanted him to come back."

  "Did you want to talk to him about every little part of your life?" I thought about how many times just today I'd wanted to call and discuss things with him.

  "Oh, yeah, and I really do now. Hell, we talk about everything, from what to have for dinner to what color shirt we should buy."

  "I feel like the big life decisions should be made by me alone."

  He scrunched up his face in confusion. "Why?"

  I was stumped. "To avoid codependency?"

  "Man, I don't even know what that is." Laughing, Ian walked toward the back to wash his hands. "All I know is that finding someone that loves me and wants to share life with me is literally the best thing I've ever had to happen to me. Big decisions are so much easier with the support of a partner."

  "Well, okay then." I clapped him on the back. "Gotta go. Thanks for the advice."

  "Anytime, Max. Anytime."

  As I drove to my parents’ to tell them the hardest thing I'd ever have to, all I could think about was how much easier it would be on me if Carson was with me. Maybe that was okay, to depend on him, and to let him make life easier for me.

  But for now, I was on my own.

  My mom met me at her front door. "Maxie!" She pulled me into a hug. "What are you doing here?" She opened the door wider and ushered me inside, not giving me a moment to respond. "You usually call, or we have to ask you to come. Can I make you something to eat?" She didn't even wait for a response, just ran to the fridge and began pulling out leftovers. "I've got a roast here, just the way you like it. I'll just heat it up in the microwave. We got a membership to that bulk place in Bend, you know the one you have to pay a yearly fee?"

  "Rip-off," my dad replied from his spot in the living room.

  I peered around the corner of the kitchen and waved at him. "Hey, dad."

  He didn't look up from the television show, as usual, but he had a smile on his face. He was glad to see me.

  It had taken me far too many years to learn how to read him. He was a man of few emotions. I must've gotten mine from my mom. "Listen, mom, I'm really not hungry, come on." Grabbing the pot full of what was probably amazing stew, I put it back in the fridge. "But I need to talk to you two."

  "What's wrong?" Her big blue eyes widened in terror. "Are you sick? Is it your leg?"

  "Roger, something's wrong," she said, running into the living room. My father clicked off the television and raised an eyebrow, staring at us both.

  "Sit down," I said, taking her arm and leading her to sit beside my father. "Nothing is wrong. I'm fine. Everyone I know is fine."

  "Well, then what is it?" My mother sat back and placed her hands primly on her knees to wait for my news.

  "You know I had to see a therapist after my leg, right?"

  They both nodded. "Glad you did," my dad said gruffly.

  I was taken aback and lost my train of thought. "Wait, you were?"

  "Of course. Don't want you having that shell shock."

  "Well, Dad, thanks, but they don't call it shell shock anymore. It's PTSD, and I do have it, though I'm managing it well thanks to therapy. But, I always thought you didn't believe in therapy?"

  "I didn't. But your mom's nagging finally got to me, and I went. Been going for—"

  "Six years, now," my mom supplied helpfully.

  "Made a big difference. Can't you tell how much more relaxed and emotional I am now?" He smiled proudly.

  I literally had noticed zero difference in my dad's demeanor, but no way I'd take any of that pride away from him. "I did, actually, but had no idea why. Good for you, Dad."
/>   "So what about your therapy?" Mom looked impatient. She was eager to know what was up, but I was not eager to deliver the news I had to deliver.

  "My therapist thinks I need to come clean about the things that happened to me with the people closest to me. And the two people I still haven't told everything to are the two people that would be the most hurt by the news."

  "Your father and I?" Mom asked in horror. "What happened?"

  Sucking in a deep breath, I found the courage that had gotten me through the pain of losing Do-Yun, that had kept me sane while being tortured in the disgusting camp tent, the courage that kept me alive when I was in more pain than I'd ever felt in my life.

  That courage hadn't previously extended to being able to tell my parents how badly their son had been hurt. Until now.

  "I was captured and held by the enemy. It was really, really bad, and the therapy I'm in is a result of that incident, not the leg."

  My mom's jaw dropped, and my dad actually showed emotion on his face. The last time he'd done that was the first time he saw me after the accident.

  "I'm okay, there was no lasting physical damage and only a few scars."

  "Scars," Mom whispered, horrified. "Where?"

  A bunch of them were lost with the leg. No need to tell her that. "On my back and shoulders. They're faint and small." Small devices left small scars. No need to tell her that, either. "It was horrible, and it sometimes wakes me up at night. There are things I'm still working on to help me break through all the stuff that happened to me."

  My dad still hadn't spoken. "How did you escape?" he said finally.

  "Luck. Pure, sheer dumb luck." I wasn't able to go into any more detail.

  "Can you tell us anything more?"

  "The man that was captured with me did not make it out. He did not have my luck."

  Mom put her hand over her heart. "I need his parents' address," she said immediately. I wanted to hug her. She thought first of his mother and what she went through.

  "I have it."

  After that, mom hugged me for about an hour, keeping one hand on me as we spoke of lighter topics. I told them about my desire to become a trainer and about Carson.

  "I think you should run to Carson and beg him to commit to you," Dad said matter-of-factly.