I shrug while shaking my head. “Should I have?”
“Nah, it’s just one of those things that kids do to scare the heck out of each other. You didn’t miss out on much,” Julia says.
“Or did she? I think she should play Bloody Mary at least once,” Lizzy teases.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “What does Bloody Mary have to do with a princess party?”
“It’s a childhood game, one you missed out on. Come on!” Lizzy pleads.
“Okay, how does it work?”
“You have to go into the dark bathroom, stare into the mirror, and say ‘Bloody Mary’ three times, and you have to say it loud enough for us to hear you,” Lizzy explains.
“And what’s supposed to happen?” I ask.
“She shows up, covered in the blood of her victims, and she reaches through the mirror to scratch off your face!” Lizzy makes a clawing motion with her hand for added effect.
“That’s it? That’s all I have to do?” I inquire, not impressed.
“Yep,” Lizzy says.
“All of your faces are intact.” I remark.
“I never made it to the third repetition,” Lizzy answers.
“Me either,” Julia seconds.
“I got scared as soon as they closed the door. I never said it once,” Molly admits, wide-eyed.
“Really? You sure are a bunch of chickens,” I tease.
The group giggles from behind as I make my way into the bathroom. I turn out the lights, and Lizzy closes the door.
“What did you do that for?” I ask.
“Remember, it has to be super dark,” she yells through the door.
“Whatever. Okay, here I go. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mar…,” I scream loudly as I throw open the door, and they scream, too. The looks on their faces are absolutely priceless! Lizzy’s gripping her chest, Julia looks confused, and Molly, well, she is a mix between the two.
“Did you see something?” Lizzy excitedly asks. “What was it?”
“It was just as you told me. There was this woman in a long white dress, but it wasn’t covered in blood or anything…,” I start to explain.
Lizzy’s face goes from terrified to not amused. “You’re talking about yourself, right?”
I smile broadly. “Uh huh.”
“You scared the hell out of me!” Julia exclaims, plopping onto the sofa.
“Y’all were trying to scare the hell out of me!” I say with a laugh.
“Okay. Moving on. Who wants to talk about boys?” Lizzy asks.
“My talk would be boring because our lives are pretty much open books,” I explain.
“Mine, too,” Lizzy says.
“But not Julia. What’s going on in the man department, huh?” I prompt.
“Not much,” she answers, wriggling uncomfortably in her seat.
“She went on three dates with Mr. Henry,” Molly chimes in. Julia sends her a look that says “shut it,” but it’s too late.
“Mr. Henry? Who’s Mr. Henry? Why haven’t I heard of him?” I tease.
“Because, there’s no guarantee that it will go anywhere, and I don’t have to tell you every bit of my business. Okay?” she says with a huff.
“I saw them kissing in the driveway,” Molly says with a giggle. Julia looks embarrassed. “And I’m pretty sure they used tongue.”
“Molly!” Julia fusses while Lizzy and I roar with laughter.
“Did you, Julia? Was there tongue?” Lizzy asks.
“Wait, I still want to hear who this Henry guy is,” I chime in.
“He’s my teacher!” Molly says with a giggle.
“What! No way! You’re not dating him to boost her grades, right?” Lizzy teases.
“Of course I’m not!” Julia snaps after shooting Molly another dirty look. “We just happen to share a common interest in history.”
“Sounds like you share more than that!” I say with a laugh.
“Okay, that’s enough. Here’s the deal. We met the night of the school carnival; the same night I met you, Savannah. He gave me his number, but I never called him. I wasn’t ready to see anyone yet. We’d run into each other occasionally when I’d visit the school, and each time he’d tell me he was still interested. Though I appreciated it, the timing still wasn’t right. Fast forward to a month ago, and Princess Molly here conveniently forgets her history book in my car. I run inside to drop it off at the front office, but I run into Henry in the hall. Literally. Like I bowled him over, and we fell into a heap on the floor. He helps me up and apologizes profusely the entire time, even though we both know the fault was all mine.”
“Awww, I’m loving this story so much!” Lizzy exclaims.
“Well, it’s as I’m dusting myself off that I notice blood coming through the knee of my pant leg, and when Henry bends over to check it out, that’s when I notice the big lump forming on the back of his head. We’re sitting in the school nurse’s office…”
She’s interrupted by laughter from me and Lizzy.
“You both wound up in the school nurse’s office! This is priceless!” Lizzy squeals.
Julia continues her story, “Well, while we’re waiting for the school nurse to arrive, we start talking about Molly, about current events, about our pasts. He tells me that he lost his wife four years ago in a car accident, so we both know what it’s like to lose a spouse to a tragic circumstance. After the nurse patched up our injuries, he asked me if I’d like to meet for a cup of coffee. I accepted, and now you know everything.”
“Well, not everything. You still haven’t told us if there was tongue,” Lizzy says with a giggle.
“Maybe a little,” Julia says, blushing. We all laugh loudly, while throwing her an encouraging comment here and there. “Who wants cake?” she asks, desperate to change the subject.
Everyone excitedly sits around the kitchen table, and partakes in some light-hearted conversation while devouring the scrumptious princess cake. Lizzy went all out for this party. There are princess plates, cups, napkins—even the forks had crowns adorning the handles.
As the chatter begins to wind down, I take advantage of the lull to thank everyone for helping me to fulfill a childhood dream.
“Most of the thanks goes to your husband,” Lizzy says. “He was very insistent that you get your princess party.”
“It amazes me what that man remembers. I say some things in passing, yet he seems to commit them to memory.”
“He’s always been that way,” Julia remarks. “He’s incredibly thoughtful, and he loves to surprise people.”
“Yeah, he does,” I say with a content sigh.
“Speaking of, I see headlights in the driveway. I guess the guys are back,” Lizzy informs.
“Perfect timing. This one has school tomorrow,” Julia says, scooting her chair under the table.
“Don’t feel bad, Molly. So does this one,” I say with a grimace.
“Yeah, but you’re almost done, Aunt Savannah. Do you know how many years I have left?”
“Don’t rush those years; enjoy them,” I advise.
“Mom tells me the same thing.”
“She’s right. They both are,” Lizzy offers.
“If you say so,” Molly says with a shrug.
Ben and Fletcher come through the door, and I know right away that Fletcher isn’t feeling well. His face in incredibly pale and sweat glistens on his forehead. I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to his situation, so I give him a quick kiss before taking his hand and leading him in the direction of the bedroom.
“We’ll be right back,” I inform. “Please, if any of you want to bring some cake home, feel free to take as much as you want.”
“Actually, I have to get Molly home, so no cake for us. We’ll catch up with you later.”
“Okay, goodnight. Thanks for everything,” I say.
“Why don’t you take a shower?” I softly whisper to Fletcher. He nods, and in a slow gait, he meanders into the bathroom. It’s not until I hear the water
running that I finally seek answers from Ben.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice laden with concern.
Ben sighs. “We were alone, sitting on the patio of a bar and grill, just talking and trying to relax after a good day of golfing. Suddenly, this obnoxious jerk decides to bring his group of equally obnoxious friends outside. I could see that Fletcher was getting agitated, and I told him we could leave, but he wanted to stay. I think things would’ve been okay, but the dude kept going on about how he was some kind of war hero, and that he had served as a combat veteran. This guy had the crowd eating out of his hand, but Fletcher openly called bullshit because he knew the guy was lying. It only took three questions for Fletcher to blow the guy’s validity out of the water, and the jerk wasn’t very happy about it. You know, with Fletcher actually being a combat veteran, having people like this douche going around falsely seeking glory is the ultimate insult. Fletcher started talking about the true heroes, the fallen, he even mentioned Brody. The crowd swayed their attention to Fletcher, and they began ostracizing the loser. He got so mad that he took a swing at Fletcher, and Fletch put him out. I mean like lights out, unconscious, flat out on his back, with one punch. The crowd cheered, Fletcher ran, and I caught up with him at the truck. We waited around for the police, but they never came, so we rode around for a little while before coming here. He’s mad at himself for losing his temper, but Savannah, the guy totally deserved it. If Fletcher wouldn’t have done it, I would have.”
I nod. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Sure. Lizzy, you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” she says, the shock from hearing the story still in her voice.
“I’ll be here at eight, okay?” Ben asks.
“Perfect. Thank you.”
I show them out then I sit on the edge of the bed until Fletcher comes out of the bathroom. He’s running a towel through his wet hair, and when he looks up to see me, he asks, “So, Ben filled you in?”
I nod. “He says the guy deserved it.”
“It’s still no excuse for what I did. What if I had killed him?”
“You didn’t. Hopefully, you taught him a lesson about lying to get attention.”
“But I could’ve.”
“Fletcher, we all have the potential to kill. Every last one of us. It depends on the situation, the circumstances, and the motive. Fortunately, most people don’t kill, but we all can.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“The point I’m trying to make, and failing miserably at, is that you did what a lot of people would’ve done. Ben told me that if you hadn’t hit that guy, he would’ve.”
“I don’t think it’s the fact that I hit him that bothers me. Ben’s right; he totally deserved it, and probably a few more, but the sucker was out cold in one punch. What bothers me is the fact that when it happened, I blacked out. Completely. I remember talking to the crowd, then the next thing I remember after that is seeing him sprawled out on the ground and feeling my fist throbbing. It scared me so badly that I took off. I’ve zoned out before, but blacking out? That’s something different. I hate to bring this up, but the times I attacked you…,” he hangs his head, “I was aware of what I was doing, but I wasn’t aware of who I was doing it to. This time, I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing. Does this mean I’m getting worse?”
“I don’t know, baby,” I say, lightly rubbing his shoulders. “But I do know someone we can call, if you’d like. He’s one of the new doctors at the hospital, Robert Goodman. He used to be an army doctor, and then he worked as an ER doc. He’s switching specialties to pediatrics, but he’s very knowledgeable about PTSD, and he’s easy to talk to.”
“You’ve been talking to a co-worker about my problem?”
“No! It’s not like that, Fletcher. He found me sitting in one of the empty rooms, and he said he could tell that something was on my mind. I wasn’t going to tell him anything, but he eventually got me to open up, and I felt much better after talking to him.” The fact that Dr. Goodman found me bawling in the waiting room was a detail Fletcher didn’t need to know. “He gave me a card with all his contact information, and he said we could call him day or night.”
Fletcher shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“The only reason I bring it up is because I think he can relate. You both saw and experienced terrible things, and while Ben, Lizzy, Julia, and I try to sympathize, we can’t relate to it on the same level as someone who has actually been there.”
He sighs. “Okay. Will you see if he’s available, just so I can determine if I need to be locked up these last few days before leaving for Colorado?”
“Of course.” I dig through my purse for the card, and Robert picks up on the second ring. I apologize for disturbing him, but he insists that I’m doing no such thing. I give him a brief rundown of the night’s events, and he agrees to come to the house. He arrives in less than fifteen minutes.
“I was just down the road at the gym…,” he’s silent for a few seconds once I fully open the door to allow him inside, “so I apologize for being underdressed.”
It takes me a second to realize I’m still wearing Lizzy’s ball gown and tiara. “I’m so embarrassed,” I say, yanking the tiara from my head. “My friends threw me a princess party because I never had one growing up, and then Fletcher came home, well… I don’t usually walk around my house in a tiara and gown.”
He laughs. “Good. I was going to ask if I should go home and change into my tux.”
“No, you’re dressed just fine.” Fletcher comes out the bedroom wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt. “See, we’re casual here. Fletcher, this is Dr. Robert Goodman. Dr. Goodman, this is my husband, Fletcher Reilly.”
Dr. Goodman extends his hand in Fletcher’s direction. “It’s nice to meet you, Fletcher. Please call me Robert.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Thank you for agreeing to come over.”
“I’m happy to do it. So, tell me a little bit about your time in the military,” he says, jumping straight to the point as soon as they’re sitting at the kitchen table.
I interrupt them. “I’m going to excuse myself so you two can talk and I can study. There’s plenty of cake on the counter if you’d like some, and there’s still half a pot of recently brewed coffee, too. Good night, Dr. Goodman. Fletcher,” I say, kissing him lightly on the top of his head, “I’m right in the bedroom if you need anything.” He takes hold of my hand, and kisses it before I leave.
“Good night, sweetheart,” he says, with a smile.
I spend about two hours studying before I can’t manage to keep my eyes open. I turn out the light, and it’s not until about one in the morning when I feel Fletcher crawl into the bed. I roll to face him and sleepily ask how the meeting went.
He tells me it went well then lightly kisses the tip of my nose. “We’ll talk about it more in the morning.”
“Okay,” I agree, snuggling closer to him. “I love you, Fletcher.”
“Do you know what I’d love?”
“What’s that?” I ask, feeling more awake.
“For you to show me. Show me how much you love me, Savannah.”
I’m fully awake now, and once I slide free from my nightshirt, I show Fletcher Reilly just deep my devotion is to him.
Chapter Fifteen
I see Dr. Goodman briefly the day before Fletcher and I are due to fly to Colorado. He tells me that he was glad to meet Fletcher and that he hopes he was of some help. I assure him that he most certainly was. Even so, Fletcher still continues to have panic attacks and black out sessions, although very few happen when I’m home with him. Ben is the person having to handle the episodes. He does it with patience and is diligent in trying to keep the intensity of the attacks to a minimum. Sometimes it works; sometimes it doesn’t. My heart hurts for my husband. I see the toll the seemingly endless barrage is taking on him, and I’d give anything to be able to take that pain and struggle away from him.
M
y last night at home with Fletcher isn’t as quiet and uneventful as I’d hoped. Normally, once we go to bed, things are fine. This particular night is plagued with restlessness and frustration brought on by the terrifying nightmares that haunt his psyche. He jerks awake twice and bolts upright in bed, his body drenched in sweat as he gasps for breath. The first time it happens, I manage to calm him with soothing talk and tender touches. The second time, he thrashes and flails about, and as I try to quiet him, I take an elbow to the cheek. Fletcher is so upset that he’s hurt me again that he spends a full hour profusely apologizing even though I assure him I’m fine. It was a dreadful night for the both of us, and we give up on the notion of actually getting sleep.
I go to the kitchen to cook breakfast while Fletcher retreats to the office to finish up some last minute paperwork for Triceratops. It’s obvious that something is weighing heavily on his mind when he sits down to eat.
“I’ve made a decision, and I want you to hear me out,” he proclaims.
“Of course. What is this decision?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.
“I don’t want you to fly with me to Colorado.”
“What? Why?” I ask, sitting a little straighter in my chair.
“I’ve really thought this through. First of all, if you go with me, you’ll miss at least two more days of school in addition to what you’ve already missed. I don’t want you to do that. You’re going to miss even more days when it’s time for me to come home, and you’ve worked way too hard to get docked on attendance. Plus, think about how much nicer it will be for you to greet me in person AFTER I finish with my therapy.”
“But..”
Fletcher holds up his hand. “There’s more. Second reason. Do you really think we’ll get to spend any quality time together on this trip? Checking bags, flights filled with strangers who hear our every word, an overnight hotel stay where all we’ll do is fall into bed only to get up extra early the next morning to get me checked in. Then after all of that, you’re going to have to fly back home all alone. That’s going to keep me from putting a hundred percent into trying to heal because I’ll be so worried about your safety that I won’t be able to focus on my treatment. Not to mention, it’s a whole lot of unnecessary hassle.”
Yours Always Page 19