The chart I’m “working” on, that I’ve been working on, for the past hour… is open on my desk, but I have yet to enter the first note into the system.
The patient is a thirty-nine year old man in excellent physical condition, other than the fact that he’s refusing to show up to his physical therapy. He’s also refusing to attend his group counselling sessions.
He was injured in a training accident on base and his leg was removed at the hip because the damage was too great to repair. He’s angry at the world and in the past week, he’s missed three appointments with us, his physical therapy session, and the group therapy session he’s mandated to attend.
Every time I try to enter his chart, my mind drifts…
It was a crazy busy day, as usual. Leila and I were having a quick lunch in the break room and she was joking about Laeten’s new girlfriend. We were supposed to head down to New Orleans that weekend to stay with Laeten and enjoy the city and the slight break.
Laeten had group texted us both that morning that he’d been seeing another artist he’d recently met at the gallery when he was dropping off some pieces and he wanted us to meet her over the weekend.
He and Leila had been blowing up the conversation all day with their various sibling jabs at each other. I’d been snickering all day when I’d check the text and read through their ridiculousness.
Leila’s phone went off with the notification of a new text. Mine didn’t buzz, so I knew it wasn’t the group text.
She reached for it and her face went white as she read what was displayed there.
I immediately thought something happened to Laeten or one of her parents. So, I jumped up and rounded the table to hug her and offer her whatever comfort and support I could.
Before I got to her though, her phone rang.
I looked down at the display because I had to know what was happening.
The call was from Laeten.
Her stricken eyes met mine and I frantically asked, “What’s happening, Leila? What’s wrong?”
She held the phone out and I immediately understood that she wanted me to answer it. I punched the button to connect the call and leaned in. “Laeten, what the hell is wrong? Are you hurt? Are your parents ok? What’s wrong?”
My voice was shrill with worry. And Leila wasn’t saying anything. She was just sitting there staring at the phone like it was poison, which had me even more panicked.
Her eyes rose to meet mine and the absolute fear and desperation I saw there had my blood freezing in my veins. I immediately knew that whatever Laeten was about to say was going to gut me. In her eyes was worry, stark fear, pain, and… compassion.
She shook her head and grabbed my hand. I held hers tightly.
Laeten’s voice was broken as he spoke. “I’m fine, Rea. So are my parents… it’s… it’s Luka.”
Leila gasped his name, “Luka…” and my knees went weak.
I felt like the ground had been pulled out from underneath me and I was free-falling into an abyss. I couldn’t breathe.
I gasped out as my knees buckled and I sat in the chair with Leila, practically on top of her. Through shaky breaths, I managed to say, “What do you mean, ‘It’s Luka’?” Leila’s fingers clutched at mine. Her hands were like ice and her nails were cutting into the back of my hand.
Laeten inhaled before speaking so rapidly, I had trouble following him. His voice was so raspy. as if he was choking back tears. He said, “He was on a mission. Something went wrong. There was an explosion…”
All I could think was, “An explosion. He’s dead?! No way. Luka is larger than life. There’s no way he’s dead.
Is he telling me that Luka is dead?”
I interrupted him harshly. “He’s not dead!”
His breathing hitched and I heard him swallow. His words were rapid as he then said, “What? No, no. He’s not… dead. A mission. A grenade… It detonated. He was virtually on top of it. He’s hurt. He’s hurt bad.” He inhales and his voice is broken as he says, “He’s hurt really bad, Rea.
“He… he was thrown by the blast and he has some internal stuff wrong. I don’t know all the technical stuff. But, he’s burned. And… and he lost his leg.
“He’s not dead. Thank God, he’s not dead. But, he’s… he’s really messed up.
“It’s bad.”
Leila was sobbing beside me and rocking as I hugged her tightly. I didn’t even realize I was also crying until water splashed onto my chest.
I looked down with surprise but I couldn’t deal with my own emotions then. If I had stopped to think it through, I’d have lost it.
I was fighting my own urges to curl into a ball and cry. There was no time for that.
Leila and Laeten needed me.
So, pushing it back, I asked them both, “What do I need to do? What do you need? Are you going to him? Where do I need to bring Leila?”
Laeten told me to bring her to their parent’s house and that he would meet us there.
I left the clinic early and drove my best friend to the house that I lived at as much as I did my own growing up. Her family was my family and I needed to be there for them.
All of them.
Luka… Luka was hurt.
He was hurt bad. He wasn’t dead, but was he going to die?
I learned what they knew, which wasn’t a lot. The Marines weren’t that willing to part with details on his injuries.
Luka was hurt. He had burns on a lot of his body. His lung had been punctured by one of his ribs, but they were able to repair it. And his right leg was severely injured. It had to be amputated. Without a leg, he could no longer serve. His military career was over. But he was alive.
As soon as he was able, he’d be transferred back to the states and then when they deemed it safe, he’d be home.
Home…
Luka is coming home. But, thank God, it isn’t’t in a pine box with a flag draped over the top.
He is coming home and I’ll be here for him.
I’ll be here for all of them.
I’m so lost in my jumbled thoughts that I don’t even hear Clive come in to my office. I don’t realize he’s there until he perches on the edge of my desk and touches my shoulder. “Rea…”
I jump a mile and shriek as my heart pounds. “EEK! Oh my, God…”
His eyes widen and his hand jerks back. He quickly says, “I’m so sorry I startled you. I was calling you.
“Didn’t you hear me?” His eyes searching my face. He’s worried.
Inhaling swiftly, I shake my head. “I didn’t. I’m sorry.” I gesture to the charts all over my desk. “I was hoping to get these entered by tonight, but I’m afraid I’m not even close.”
No, I’m not even close. Because I’m not even thinking about these charts…
He smiles at me and reaches out to tuck a piece of hair, that’s somehow escaped my ponytail, behind my ear. His eyes crinkle. “Yeah, they can wait until tomorrow.
“What do you say we get out of here? Call it a night?”
I sigh and smile at him as he asks, “Hungry? How about I whip something up for us? We can go to your place or I probably have enough to make do at mine.”
Ah, he’s such a good man.
I nod.
“That sounds great. Your place is perfect.”
Leaning down, he kisses me softly. I lean into the kiss and within seconds, my body is humming and I’m no longer drowning in worry and thoughts of Luka.
Clive’s hand cradles the back of my neck before his lips leave mine. “Great. You can just ride with me if you’re planning on staying the night.”
Luka
I’ve accepted my fate. My life is over as I knew it. Everything I’ve worked for and toward is gone… My dreams, my aspirations, my life goals… gone.
Everyone keeps telling me how lucky I am. And I know that I am. I should be dead… There is no reason I should be here right now, but I am.
I should be happy about that and maybe one day I will be… but
right now… I’m not there yet.
Not even close.
Chapter Six
Rea
Four weeks later
Closing the door to the exam room behind me, I sigh and reach for the next chart. I’m exhausted and I’ve been fighting a headache all day. Glancing at my FitBit, I see that it’s only a little after two.
Ugh. Three more hours until I can go lay my head on my desk.
Well, suck it up, Rea.
Nodding at the voice in my head, I mutter, “Yeah, suck it up, Rea. This is your job and you love it. So, I’m having a craptastic day. No need to take it out on my patients.”
A laugh beside me startles me and I drop the chart I’m holding. Swiveling, I glare at Leila as some papers scatter at my feet. She smiles and I can see she needs to share something. I grunt, “Well, while you spill whatever it is you need to say, help me pick up this mess.” I look at her and then at the white, yellow, and pink pieces of paper on the floor in a six foot radius. “After all, you made me drop the chart.”
She grins and squats down to start collecting the papers that managed to escape the fold-clips in the chart. “Well, if you hadn’t been talking to yourself in the middle of the hallway, maybe you would have seen me coming straight for you and this mess wouldn’t be here.”
Rolling my eyes, I kneel to help her collect the last of the papers and sigh as I arrange them in the proper order before slipping them back on the eye-tooth clips in the chart and giving them an extra squeeze to make certain they’re down. I mutter as I work. “Ok, so while I have a minute, talk.”
She doesn’t say anything. In frustration and slight annoyance, I look up at her and raise my brows. “Well?! What is it, Leila? I have patients. I can’t just stay out here. We’re insane in here today.” My voice is testy, but it doesn’t faze her in the least.
Her eyes are almost dancing from whatever she’s holding in. Finally, she smiles and claps with excitement. “Luka will be here on Friday! He’s coming home! He’s well enough to travel and… he’s coming home, Rea!”
What?
Luka is coming home?
Oh my God.
Luka is coming HOME!
If he can travel, then that means he’s getting better. And he’s coming… home…
Oh, shit.
Luka is coming home.
Breathe, Rea. Don’t you dare pass out in the middle of the hallway!
You knew he was coming home. Where else would he go? Home is where he needs to be.
Yes, but home… like he’s coming here… and he can’t go back to the Marines, so he’s coming… HOME.
Oh, shit. I’m going to need a minute.
Reaching out before I fall over, I grab onto Leila’s arm to steady myself. Her eyes flit over my face, taking everything in. I can actually see her trying to read my mind. She frowns at me. “Rea, what… I’m confused. Aren’t you happy he’s coming home?”
She’s confused… Hop into my head, Leila!
But, I nod. “What? No, of course I am. That’s awesome. It’s great. If he is doing well enough to travel, that’s really awesome. I mean, I knew he was coming back, it just seems… sooner than I expected.” I’m rambling. I can hear myself and I know that I must sound insincere and flaky. But, I’m honestly just floored.
Why am I reacting like this?
I did know he was coming back and I’m so glad. But, I’m also terrified.
I’ve felt so much for him for so long and now he’s going to be here… all the time… and he’s going to need help.
Hell, he’ll probably be a patient here.
And I’m a nurse. The head nurse. So, he’ll be my patient.
He’s going to need a lot of help. It’s a huge transition.
Of course, I’m happy.
I am… happy.
Of course, I’m happy. He’s alive and coming home.
Luka is coming home…
Leila’s eyes widen as she looks at me. Determination overcomes her face and looking over my shoulder, she calls to Denise, one of the other nurses, to come take the chart from me and handle the patient. Denise crosses to us with a smile and reaches for the chart. Without conscious thought, I hand it to her. I smile at her. “Hey, thanks. I’m just going to take a quick break, ok? You ok with taking this one?”
She nods reassuringly and says, “Of course I am.” She knocks and opens the door when the patient calls out. As she slips into the room, she shoots another smile at us before it closes behind her.
Leila immediately takes my elbow and mutters, “Come on. Let’s go to my office for a bit.”
I can’t help but follow along as she pulls me quite forcefully. Even if I wanted to refuse, she’s not giving me a choice. Leila’s office is at one end of the “T” shaped corridor while my office and the chart room, where we keep all current patient charts, is at the other. Clive’s office is at the end of the hall, centered on the wall, between our two offices. Leila calls out, “I need her for a minute. Denise is filling in. Room Four.” She doesn’t even allow him to respond as she herds me past his office. I guess she already knew he was in there.
Hell, I barely had time to glance at him and see him look up with surprise from the chart he was reading while leaning on his desk front, as we passed the door.
Then, we’re in her office.
She pulls me into the small room and then closes the door. She stares at me. “What’s wrong? I could see everything you were feeling on your face, Rea.” Leaning back on her heels she watches me as she crosses her arms. “I’ve known you my entire life… Why does Luka coming home scare you?” I just stare at her as I worry my lip and debate my answer.
Why does it scare me?
Because my entire life, my entire life, I’ve loved him from afar. He was always right there, but so untouchable.
At least as far as what my heart wanted from him.
He left. He went to the Marines and I knew that was for the best. That was the only way, my foolish heart was ever going to give up.
But he did and I moved on. I finally found someone… I have someone. Clive is so… perfect. I know he’s perfect and I know that he’s the guy I “should” want to commit to. He wants it… I should want it.
I do want it…
I was on the way to reaching it… and now, here comes Luka.
Here comes the man that has always turned my life upside down. And now, he’s going to be in my world.
I’m going to have to help him.
I want to help him. My job is to help him and those like him…
But, it’s Luka…
Luka isn’t just anyone… he’s the boy I loved who turned into the man I loved. He’s the main character in the book of unrequited love. He’s the guy who loves me back… but as a trusted friend…
I don’t say any of that. Instead, I say, “I’m happy he’s coming home, Leila. I’m just worried about him. He’s going to need a lot of help… a lot of support… his life is going to be so different and that’s not going to be easy… for him, or anyone around him.”
Her lips purse and she nods though she doesn’t look at all convinced. Finally she sighs. “Ok, fine. If that’s your story, ok. I’m not pushing you.” My chest thumps with my rapid heartbeat. She can see right through me. She sighs again and leans against the wall. “That’s all true. But when you want to talk to me…” she pauses and her eyes lock on mine, “About whatever… you know I’m here. I’m always here, Rea.”
A sigh of relief escapes me and I swallow. “I know that, but I don’t need to talk about anything, Leila.” Standing tall, I ask, “So, when is he going to be here? For dinner on Friday? We need to plan something… dinner. I’ll cook so your parents don’t have to worry about it. My momma will, of course, help.”
Everything I said was true… but it was also a lie.
I have so much to talk about, but this isn’t something I want to talk about with Leila. She’s my best friend. My very best friend, but she’s also the last person I woul
d ever hit with my plethora of feelings about everything concerning Luka Fitzgerald… her brother.
Luka
Friday
The wheels make that eerie grinding noise as we the hit the tarmac at BTR, the airport in Baton Rouge, home, and the plane bounces twice. Then, I’m flung backward in my seat as my white knuckles grip the armrest of the seats on both side of me and the wing flaps raise to slow the plane. The noise is making me crazy. My head is pounding and my heart is about to burst from my chest.
We slow to a crawl and the pilot’s voice comes over the intercom, “And welcome to Baton Rouge, passengers. We are awaiting confirmation to proceed to our gate and appreciate your patience. It’s a beautiful seventy-two degrees with partly cloudy skies in the Red Stick…” He continues to jabber as we taxi to the gate, but I’m no longer listening to him. Instead, my gaze drifts to the window at my right and I stare at the hustle and bustle of the small airport in my hometown. People are ferrying baggage and workers around on the white carts. One of the tarmac controllers is dancing as he points the orange lights all tarmac controllers use to direct the planes. He’s signally my plane to head to the gate directly in front of us. He seems to be in pretty good spirits for someone whose entire job is to stand out in the elements and direct planes all day.
The cabin air is oppressive since they cut the power to the air conditioning when they started the landing. I feel like I can’t breathe. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I inhale deeply and hold it in for ten counts before releasing it slowly and starting all over again. It’s one of my steps from therapy to calm my head and heart when I feel as if I’m going to suffocate. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Right now, I’m kind of in the middle. I still feel like I can’t breathe, but I am rational enough to know that I actually can breathe and as long as I concentrate on my breaths, I’ll come out on the right side soon enough.
I’m in Row Four, which is actually the first row of the plane, but it’s the only place on a plane I can get in and out of now…
The flight attendant approaches me and smiles. “Captain Fitzgerald, the Captain would like you to know we’re going to deboard the other passengers first so that we can assist you. Do you need anything before we start disembarking?”
Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology Page 46