by Linnea Valle
I’d be reliving it with someone it mattered to in a way it didn’t to anyone else, other than me. I’d be exposing myself, my insecurities, and my faults to the only woman I’d ever cared for. First as a sister, then as a lover and if I was being completely honest, as a soul mate. I would have to admit to her how I’d failed not only her, but also Eddie. The idea scared me enough to cause my breathing to catch in my chest. Not unlike the feeling I had when my lung had collapsed, I couldn’t get any air in.
“Breathe, Zach. Slow, easy breaths.” I’d forgotten I was still sitting in Dr. Mooney’s office. “You know you’re going to have to settle things with her eventually,” he said once he’d talked me down.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t think I’m ready to yet,” I said honestly once my breathing had gotten back to normal. “Mom, dad, even Charlie I think I can handle, but Emma?” My voice trailed off.
“If not now, then when?” he asked gently. “I think it’s time you faced all of your fears and losses. You can’t move forward until you do. If you can’t, then I’m not sure there’s much else we can work on together here.” He was right, of course. My therapy was at a standstill until I did this, and I knew it too.
I’d gone back to housing with a request for leave already in the works by Dr. Mooney. I was still waiting for my final separation papers, although they were a formality. I was being given an Honorable Discharge for reasons of being Permanently Disabled due my injuries received in the Improvised Explosive Device attack. I received The Medal of Honor for my actions during the attack and a Purple Heart, but none of it meant anything to me. I still felt like the coward I was. I gave the medals to my mom. I had no desire to look at them. They were another reminder I didn’t want.
Dr. Mooney was right, we both knew it. It was time for me to go back to my small town, face down the stares, and try to ignore the whispers behind my back. I’d been moody and usually refused to talk at all when my parents came to be with me and support me through my recovery, but I hadn’t been home yet.
Mom and dad made it no secret they felt I needed to go to Emma. I know they were disappointed in me because I always refused. Both spent a lot of time with her. She was still going to school according to mom and since summer had just begun, she was on break. If I did decide to go, at least I wouldn’t be facing Sarah too.
“Sarah has had almost as hard of a time dealing with Eddie’s death as Emily.” Mom had told me on the phone about a week ago. “She decided to get away. She went to stay with her family for the summer. Emily isn’t sure if she’ll be coming back in the fall or not. I hate the idea that Sarah won’t be there for Emily. I don’t know how she’ll manage.” My mom’s voice sounded far away and distracted.
I always felt like there was something just under the surface, but I was afraid to ask. I was worried Emma had done what I suspected all along. She found someone else and mom and dad wanted her to be able to tell me.
Fuck, I didn’t blame her. If she had any idea how screwed up I was she would be smart to stay as far away from me as she could. The idea broke off another piece of my heart. Little by little, my heart was being chipped away. The pain was real and so were the panic attacks which usually accompanied my thoughts of Emma moving on.
I drove home wanting to surprise my folks. When I got to town, I drove around slowly and noticed that very little every changed in small, sleepy towns in the Midwest. I had been gone less than two years, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Yet everything looked the same. I drove to the lake and the same scene was playing out as when I was younger and naïve, but with a new cast of characters. I drove by the spot Emma and I had our tryst in the car, I almost stopped at Holton’s just to smell the greasy fries and have a milkshake, but I wasn’t hungry.
Then I got up the courage to drive by Emma and Eddie’s house. There was a “For Sale” sign in the front yard, but Charlie’s truck was in the driveway. I drove by three times before I had the nerve to stop. Then, sitting in my car at the curb, I had a full-blown panic attack before I could force myself to put a shaky hand on the door handle and exit the vehicle.
I used every technique Dr. Mooney had made me practice to calm myself and take control of my emotions and the physical reaction to them as I rang the bell. I almost ran, but I heard the shuffling within the house of Charlie coming to the door.
When it opened, the look of shock on Charlie’s face was paired with the pain he clearly still felt after the ten months since Eddie’s death and the year and a half without his wife. Without a word, he opened the door wider in a silent invitation to enter.
Where was I supposed to start? Charlie mercifully took the lead. I continued to look down at my feet. Afraid I’d have a panic attack when I went in or looked at the interior of the house. It even smelled the same. The faint odor of old carpeting and that unique smell that each house takes on with it’s inhabitants wafted through the broad opening.
“Well, Zach, long time no see. I didn’t expect to see you at the door. Hell, I didn’t expect to ever see you again, much less, at my doorstep. Come on in, don’t just stand there out on the stoop. Can I get you a beer?” Charlie innocently asked. When I opened my mouth to refuse, Charlie’s face took on the look of understanding and a bit of shame.
“Aw, shit! I’m sorry Zach. I didn’t even think. Your mama tells me you’ve been sober for months now. That’s good, son, really good.” Charlie clapped me on the shoulder and I must have subconsciously winced at the contact. “Well hell, seems like I’m doing everything wrong. Your bad shoulder?” Charlie was beginning to look very uncomfortable and I wondered if I had done the wrong thing by stopping.
“Yeah, it’s okay Charlie. I think it’s more a memory of the pain than it is actual pain.” I hoped this would relieve a bit of his uneasiness. “I was driving by and saw the house for sale. Where you planning on moving to?” I asked. I didn’t really care but needed to fill the void. The conversation was going nowhere, fast.
“I don’t reckon I’ve thought that far ahead to tell you the truth.” Charlie admitted. “I need to get out of here. Too many ghosts in this place, plus, it’s too big for me.” Charlie trailed off the last words as he looked around the house so familiar to me.
Nothing looked different, but it felt different. It felt oppressive. It felt empty. Like the life had been sucked right out of it. Or maybe it was Charlie. Charlie seemed empty and like he had the life sucked out of him. His eyes were a muddled blue and there wasn’t a single spark I could find when he looked at me.
“I guess I should get going, I’m on my way home to surprise my mom and dad. I wanted to see you, Charlie. I needed to tell you, I’m sorry.” I choked on the last word and my heart started pounding like it was going to beat right out of my chest. I looked down at my feet. The shame I felt was ready to overtake me when I again felt Charlie’s hand. This time on the other shoulder.
I looked up and Charlie had tears brimming in his eyes. “Zach, you’ve been through hell, I can’t blame you for any choices you’ve made. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” Charlie pulled me into his arms and started sobbing. His tears urged me to let mine out, and I did. We stood there, holding onto each other, and cried. Time had no relevance and we simply shared each other’s grief.
When the tears finally dried up. Charlie seemed to be a bit uncomfortable. I took it as my cue and made my exit. We said our polite goodbyes and promises to keep in touch, though I doubted Charlie would make the effort. I gave Charlie one last man-hug and turned away. I heard the door close as I was about half way to my car.
I arrived at my parent’s house, a few minutes later. I should consider it home. This was where I grew up, my fondest memories were there. Which was the problem. Most of those memories included Eddie, which was why it didn’t feel like home anymore. I didn’t think I’d had a sense of home since I left for boot camp over a year and a half earlier.
I parked on the street, in case either of my parents were out and they needed to use the driveway. What a th
oughtful little prick I was. After the cry Charlie and I had, I was emotionally drained and I was a self-pitying jerk when I felt so raw with my feelings so close to bubbling over. I knew I was being hard on myself, nothing new. I had been doing that for years. Eddie’s death only made it worse, more intense.
I walked up to the door. I hesitated. Should I ring the bell and wait outside or should I knock and then walk in or just walk in and announce myself. How messed up was that? When you didn’t even know how to enter your childhood home.
I opted for the knock and then let myself in. It seemed like a middle ground. This wasn’t my home anymore, but I wasn’t a stranger needing to be let into the house either.
“Mom? Dad? Is anyone home?” I called out and immediately I heard a glass crash in the kitchen and my mom let out a squeal of surprise. Great, I couldn’t even visit home without ruining things. So far, this whole trip has been a disaster. Maybe I needed a few more months of therapy with Dr. Mooney before I attempted this.
“Zach? Oh my God! Zach!” mom yelled from the kitchen. Her voice got louder as she came running to the door. One look at me and a smile broke out on her face. It was probably the largest smile I could ever remember. She wiped her hands on her apron, yes, she still wore aprons. I thought it must have been a habit or maybe a nervous gesture because I was sure she didn’t have anything dirtying her hands.
“Hi mom,” I smiled as she wrapped me in a bear hug which rivalled any man’s. She squeezed so tight, I had to pat her on the arm to indicate it was a little uncomfortable. She had me laughing by the time she let go.
She grabbed me with one hand on each side of my face. “Zachary Peters! It’s about time you got around to coming home to see your mom and pop.”
She squished my face until I felt like my lips were making a fishy face and then she let go and leaned up, gave me a peck on the cheek while she whispered, “It’s so good to see you, honey.”
She dropped back down and stood there with her hands on her hips, beaming at me. “How long are you staying?” she asked.
“I, uh, I don’t know, I hadn’t planned ahead. I suppose at least a couple of days.” I rushed to correct myself, “Unless you and dad have plans. I know I dropped in unexpectedly.”
“Hush up!” she scolded. “You know you can stay as long as you want.” She was right, I did know. I didn’t know how long I’d feel comfortable there. So, I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep. I’d broken enough promises.
I visited with Mom and Dad for several days and even ventured out a couple of times. Each time got a little easier. It still tore a new hole in my chest every time someone came up to me and wanted to talk about Eddie. Unfortunately, it happened frequently, which was why I tried to stick around the house as much as possible.
Mom was quite vocal, since I was so close, I should make a point of calling and going to see Emma. I wasn’t sure I could handle it all at once. This had been a first step for me and was a big one. I sat in the room I occupied as a child. I thought of all the times the three of us had sleep overs or the many times we’d gone to a party together, to the lake for a swim or hung out watching movies and eating mom’s delicious cooking. It made me sad, but I thought I was coming to grips with it the more I lingered at home.
“You’re packing your duffle.” Mom said, stating the obvious one morning.
“Yeah, I think it’s time I get back, I’ve already missed two AA meetings and one appointment with my therapist. I’d like to say I’m over it, but there is still a cloud hanging over me I can’t quite explain. I don’t understand it, so I don’t expect you to. I think I need a session with Dr. Mooney.”
“Sure, I get it. You know you can talk to your dad or me anytime, right?” Mom’s face was a mask of worry. Concern for her only son who had obviously withdrawn from the family. She didn’t have to say it. I saw it in both my parents. Dad took me out fishing one day, but we were silent most of the time and I knew he struggled with what to say to me. Everyone walked on eggshells around me, trying not to set me off, but not knowing what the triggers were.
“Are you going to call and go and see Emma on your way back?” Mom’s voice was firmer this time. More insistent and the look changed to one of consternation, because she saw the answer on my face.
“I don’t think I’m up to seeing her just yet, mom,” I said as I concentrated a little too hard on my packing.
“Well, you need to get off your ass, Zach. She has questions and she deserves answers. You’re the only one who can give them to her.” I was a stunned at the vehemence in her voice. She never spoke like that, but I guessed she had the right since she’d been holding the bag ever since Eddie and Emma’s mom died and then during our deployment. With Eddie’s death, Emma didn’t have anyone, and I knew my mom well enough to know she would have taken on a motherly role for Emma.
I never told her about the promise I made to Eddie and I’m sure she’d strap me down in her car and drive me there herself if she knew.
“I need to get back to Maryland for now, Mom. I…” I was cut off when she turned on her heels and marched out of the room. She looked like she was on a mission, but never said a word, so I kept packing. A few minutes later, she reentered the room and thrust something at me.
“What is this?” I asked, confused.
It looked like a well-worn picture, but it was upside down. I took it from her outstretched hand. The paper was stiff yet yielding. I knew it had been manhandled a lot by the pliancy and worn edges. I flipped it over to look at the picture on the front. It was like a punch to the gut and took the wind right out of my lungs. It was the picture Emma once had in her dorm room. The one of the three of us at graduation. God, it was a lifetime ago. I wrinkled my brow, while I tried to figure out why mom had Emma’s picture.
“Emma gave it to me after you and Kelly got married. She didn’t want to look at it anymore. I think the reminders of both you and Eddie were too much for her. I’ve been keeping it safe here, for you. I think you need to face the music, Zach.” She shoved the picture into my hands a little farther and then grabbed my hand, pulled it up to my heart and held it there for a minute. “Do the right thing.”
Then she was gone, out of my room, my hand still held the picture, the picture covered my heart, covered my feelings, covered my past.
The drive back to Maryland was a bag of mixed emotions I couldn’t quite get a handle on. Childhood memories flooded my mind as I drove on autopilot. I left giving mom a big hug and kiss, thanked her for everything, I had shoved the picture in the breast pocket of my shirt, effectively keeping Emma and Eddie over my heart. I was sure that was no coincidence.
I’d been down the survivor’s guilt road enough times; I was familiar with every curve it took. I hugged every corner like a racetrack, from unworthiness, anger, grief and even gratefulness. I called Dr. Mooney before I left home to make sure I had an appointment set up for when I returned. I drove straight through, a long drive, but I had no problem staying awake with all the thoughts that swirled in my head. Everything my mom had told me about what a tough time Emma had and how devastated she was I wouldn’t talk to her mocked me.
At the time, I feigned indifference, but when I thought about what my mom had told her about my impulsive marriage to Kelly, I was forced to pull off the road. It was as though all the feelings I had repressed since the incident with the IED suffocated me with the thought of how Emma had reacted. I broke down and cried for a good half hour when everything hit me all at once. My mom hadn’t made any bones about the fact she felt I was being a coward and I needed to be the man she knew I was deep down and face Emma. I shed more tears this week than think I had during my whole childhood. That was the first time I’d cried for Eddie.
I never thought of Emma as being weak or incapable of taking care of herself. Actually, the opposite. Emma was a strong woman who certainly didn’t need the likes of me to take care of her like both Eddie and my mom had implied. I saw her as the strongest one of the three of us
as we were growing up. She was patient, courageous, and also comfortable in her own skin. I was the one who felt vulnerable around her. I knew eventually, I would need to see her. I couldn’t pretend she didn’t exist. And, I knew she had questions about what happened to Eddie. She deserved those answers.
I had no doubt it was a large part of my reason for avoiding her after my injury and Eddie’s death. I lived through the memory every day. After all my Army debriefing, the only person I ever talked to about the attack was Dr. Mooney. I was a coward, afraid to tell the most important person about it. The one person it mattered to more than anyone else. I wasn’t trying to diminish my own feelings of Eddie’s loss or Sarah’s feelings, but Eddie and Emma were almost like one entity even though they were two separate people.
I walked into my appointment with Dr. Mooney, I was dreading it, yet I needed it more than I would have imagined.
“Zach, nice to see you this morning.” Greeted by Dr. Mooney’s receptionist. I’ve felt her eyes on me more than once. She was a knockout blonde and hinted more than once she’d be happy to accept my attention but I had no interest beyond seeing Dr. Mooney.
“Hey, is he ready for me yet, or should I wait out here?” I asked dispassionately.
“He’s waiting for you if you want to give a knock, then you can go on in.” She replied with disappointment etched around the lines of her lips which formed a flat, tight line.
I headed straight for his door rather than the waiting area seating. I was anxious to start today. I knocked as I turned the handle at the same time. I entered his office without missing a beat.
“Doc.” I said as I sat down in one of the comfortably upholstered wing chairs situated across from his desk.
“How was your trip, Zach? Sylvia said you sounded a bit on edge when you called for the appointment.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers as he rested his elbows on the desk. His keen eyes scanned me, he didn’t miss a thing. He assessed my state of mind by how I presented myself. From the clothing I wore, whether I was clean-shaven or not. He watched my posture as I walked in and got settled. He studied the way I sat and how I held my hands, which were casually folded in my lap. Then he made his way to my face to assess my frame of mind by my facial expressions, the clarity of my eyes and the fine tells we all show. I kept my face blank, I had been under his scrutiny at every session, so I was used to it.