Disarmed (3 page)

She curled against him, her soft hair hanging over the side of the bed. They lay spent in one another’s arms.

Later, he drew covers over their limp bodies and he cradled her throughout the night. She lay in his arms and he enjoyed, for the first time in months, the comfort that a woman can bring.

Jessie stared at the wall clock. The seconds hand ticked continuously around the face, but the little and big hands seemed to remain still. He figured he’d been there for somewhere just north of an eternity, but for some reason, the clock wasn’t supporting that assumption.

Dr. Orwin sat in his leather chair directly across from him and small table sat between them. A magazine, a bowl of starlight mints, and a half-filled glass of water with excessive condensation on the outside of it rested before Jessie.

He hadn’t moved or said a word for the majority of the time he’d been there.

“Do you need me to ask you the question again?”

“Nope. I’m just not comfortable talking about it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So, the last day of your patrol is off-limits?”

“Do I have the ability to choose what’s off-limits here?”

“Jessie, you have the right to talk about whatever you want. What would you like to talk about?” Dr. Orwin’s tiny blue eyes sat recessed into his fleshy face. He was a rather rotund man who seemed to be kind and sincere, all those things that should comfort people when they walked into his office.

But there was no comfort for Jessie. Those beady little eyes had magnifiers in them. As if they belonged to Superman and the good doctor could see the very blood rushing through his veins, the beat of his heart, and the air as it expelled from his lungs.

Jessie hated being observed. He didn’t need to divulge his feelings to anyone. It couldn’t really help. In fact, it may make things a little worse. The day that the doc wanted to know about, the day he’d pulled two of his closest friends from a burning Humvee, the flash of fire that had rolled across the terrain.

He’d seen what happened. The roadside bomb had gone off behind him. The explosion seemed as if it happened again in front of them and all around. When his friends’ Humvee reached the vehicle just in front of his own, he saw the way the heavy steel bounced into the air and came crashing down on its side. By the time they reached the doomed car, only two of the four men were alive and they were in horrible states. Parts of them were blown off and one of them lay there screaming. The other, PFC Stanton, looked at him as if he stared death in the face. Then he silently placed his hand on his gun and in a whisper asked Jessie to pull the trigger for him so that he wouldn’t end up in purgatory for ending it himself.

Jessie didn’t honor his request. But he’d dreamed of those eyes for months after the bombing. When he finally arrived back at the base stateside, he’d seen the man’s wife. Stanton wasn’t home from the hospital yet. He would spend months in recovery. Jessie was prepared to apologize to her for not being able to do more for him. But instead, she’d thanked him for sending her husband home, indifferent to the fact he would never walk again. That he would never run behind his son playing baseball or football, or whatever the fuck men do with their boys. She was simply thankful to have a portion of her husband back.

Jessie didn’t want to share that story with the doc. Nor Antoine’s or anyone of the other dozen or so horrific tales that he’d witnessed while in hell. He had watched so many people lose so much, if they came back at all from that fucking war. A part of him wondered why he hadn’t been killed. He didn’t have children or a wife. It was just him. Jessie Workings came home a whole man, almost back to one hundred percent. Just a slim scar remained on his arm from the night that changed his life.

A long time had elapsed between Dr. Orwin’s last question. Rather, three minutes according to that God dammed clock.

“I want to talk about family,” Jessie finally said.

“What about family?”

“My mom wants me to get married.”

“I take it that’s not what you want?”

“I didn’t say that. I was just saying it would make her really happy if I got married.”

“Let me rephrase. Do you want to get married?”

“I don’t know. There’s a woman. I don’t know if she would have me. I just see her from time to time.”

“Why wouldn’t she have you, as you put it?”

“Why would she? I’m a jarhead.
Semper fi
‘til I die, ooh-rah. And all that shit. I’ve seen what those women have to go through. Why would anyone choose that life?”

“Love. People say love might make one do something a little strange. Perhaps even marry a jarhead.”

As he entered the doctor’s office, Jessie had seen a picture on the wall of a young man in dress blues and a very pretty redhead. He knew that Dr. Orwin was military. He still didn’t want him fucking around in his head.

“It’s been a long year and a half,” Jessie said.

“Yet, you want to return? What’s there for you?”

“Everything. It’s back here that causes the most grief for me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do here. If you don’t release me, that is.”

“It sounds like you don’t think I will.”

“How would I know something like that?”

“You can’t. All you can do is talk to me. Which you are. Simple conversation. That’s all.”

“Well, that’s good. Her name is Mavis.”

“The girl?”

“The woman. She’s been around forever. She’s never been my girl. Just someone that spends time with me while I’m here.”

“I see.”

“Time up yet?”

“If you like.”

“I would. Do I have to come back?”

“Yes. I don’t know for how long. That part will be up to you. However, I must tell you, I will continue until I feel comfortable enough to release you from my care.”

“And you don’t?”

“No. I don’t. Of course, I haven’t cared for you yet. Tell me something. How are the nightmares?”

“Bad. Until last night. Mavis spent the night with me. I don’t know if that helped. But, I didn’t dream last night.”

“I see. Same time next week? And maybe we’ll make a full session next time, hmm?”

Jessie looked up at Dr. Orwin. He had a little smirk on his face.

“Yeah, maybe.” Standing, he leaned across the coffee table and shook the doc’s hand.

As he headed for the door, he took a closer look at the wedding photo. As he suspected, it was the doctor and who he presumed was his wife.

“I would have been married thirty years next month,” Dr. Orwin said, startling him.

“Would have?”

“Yes. She was taken from me by a disease called Guillian Barre Syndrome. Too soon. We must remember to allow ourselves love. For life is too fragile to waste a moment.”

Jessie turned to look at Dr. Orwin. The doc seemed be somewhere else. He nodded to the older gentleman before softly closing the door behind him and heading swiftly out of his office. He avoided eye contact with the person who was waiting. He wasn’t so much worried about being seen there, it was more that he didn’t want to hold anyone else’s secret.

He took the helmet from the back of his Harley. As he strapped it on, Mrs. Stanton’s face came clearly into view, as she often did. He could see the sorrow even in his daydreams. On that afternoon, however, Mavis’ face replaced her. Angelic and sweet. Her body, long and lean. That skin that made him yearn for her from the pit of his stomach. Her lush hair and magnificent smile.

As he took off, away from Dr. Orwin’s office, he knew that he wanted to see her. Right then, right now.

“Jessie. Come in.”

Mavis had inherited her father’s ranch. The furniture and the décor remained largely unchanged from her childhood. Her mother had run off when she was seven. The place had lacked a woman’s touch for that whole time. And it still lacked the frills and embroidery, and other things that made his mom’s home so cozy. Being raised by her father, she’d never taken up the same things as some of the other girls. The plants were plastic and no day lilies were neatly lined along the edge of the porch. The house was clean and practical, like most things in her life—something that Jessie had always liked about her.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he said.

“Yep, I can see that. I’m just getting ready to go in for my shift. You know, one of these days, I’m going to quit that damn diner. Hal can rub your ass clean raw sometimes.”

She was walking ahead of him, bare feet padding across the floor. Her jeans slipped a little lower than her waist, riding low on her hips. He could see the thin, pink cotton of her panties just above the waistline. Her top a cropped, shredded, white T-shirt. The material fell off her shoulder, unencumbered by a bra.

Mavis took a seat on the couch, her nipples reacting as if the room were cold.

“Have a seat,” she said. “I just had lunch. You want something to eat?”

“Nah, I’m good. I ate a little while ago.”

“I called you this morning. You didn’t answer so I figured you were still sleeping.”

“I was up about eight. You were nowhere to be found.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want anyone to see me sneaking out of there this morning. I left a little before dawn.”

“Crawled out the window?”

“Just like the good old days, right?”

Jessie let a little laugh slip. That had been their entrance into one another’s houses. Thankfully, they’d been skilled enough to keep the nosey neighbors from spying their activities. They both would have gotten their hides tanned.

Mavis giggled and leaned over to him on the couch, placing her head on his lap. Her hair fell over his thighs as she balled into the fetal position.

Jessie watched her as her eyes closed. The rise and fall of her chest changing, her breath slowing. Running his fingers through her hair, he allowed himself to ease into the moment. She was like a breath of summer air.

“When are you leaving again?” Her eyes remained closed, as if she was making a wish.

“I don’t know yet.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said that. Any reason, or is it that you don’t want to go back?”

“I want to, eventually. I just don’t know when,” he lied, not wanting her to worry. If he had to tell her about the nightmares and all the guilt building inside him, she would indeed worry. It wasn’t her concern, not her war, and he didn’t want to make her own it.

“I’m not complaining.” The smile that spread across her face warmed the room.

“Mavis, none of that. You know I’ll go back eventually.”

“Oh, I know.”

“I just don’t want any misconceptions, you know?”

“Oh, sure.” Mavis sat upright quickly, and scooted into the corner of the couch, far away from Jessie. Almost off the couch.

She was angry. It wasn’t that she never got angry before, but this time the look in her eyes crawled over Jessie’s flesh. He read her thoughts through those eyes. She was worried and in pain. He knew from the distance she’d placed between them, she needed a moment to pull herself together. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. She was too proud for that. He wanted to tell her that his retreat into his world wouldn’t be swift this time, but that would be of no use. What she was looking for was forever.

Forever wasn’t something he could give Mavis. His forever was promised to Uncle Sam. Even if she thought it unfair, he knew she would end up like one of those women who lived on base. Waiting for men to come home, only to find that each time they returned, they’d left a little more of themselves on the battlefield.

“Well, I better get ready for work,” she said, rising and glancing toward the door.

“Okay.”

He knew she was fighting back tears. Her lashes were heavy with them and her eyes held the secret to why men hate when women cry. Each time he’d hurt her was evident in their depths.

“Call you later?” He stood, reluctantly.

“Sure. I get off at about eight-thirty.”

“Can I meet you there? Maybe we could take in a movie or something?” He was grasping.

“Um, I’m a little tired right now, so by the time I get off work I’m sure I’ll be beat.”

“Right. Okay. Well, have a good day, then.”

Mavis turned away.

Jessie panicked. A sickening thought popped into his mind.
I may lose her
. Grabbing her around her waist, he pulled her backward to him. Her soft body pressed against his chest. Running his hands through her hair, he twisted her to face him. The smooth skin of her face cool on his fingertips. Closing his mouth over hers, he licked her lips, then slid his tongue inside her mouth. A tiny whimper escaped her, the sound musical in Jessie’s ears. He wanted to make love to her mouth. Kissing her became the singular focus of his body, his mouth massaging and suckling her.

Something changed during their kiss. Her body stopped relenting and pressed closer to his. As he pulled away from her, she stumbled forward, seeking more of his embrace. He could have stayed, but he wanted her to say the word. As he stepped away, her reaction told him that it was killing her inside. The expression in her eyes grew darker as she folded her arms in front of her.

“Call me if you change your mind about that movie.” He turned, walking out onto the porch and forcing himself to concentrate on placing one foot in front of another.

She didn’t say a word when he left, even though Jessie needed her to run after him.

Placing his helmet over his head, he took a seat on his bike. Before pulling away from the house, Jessie glanced up and caught Mavis staring at him from the doorway. She looked as if she were about to shatter into a million pieces.

He didn’t want her to love him, but a part of him wanted to possess her. It was a difficult situation to find himself in but he was doing the right thing, protecting her from a lifetime of sorrow should he die in the war, or even worse, if he were to come home disabled and broken. She would have to pick up all those pieces. As difficult as it was to leave her standing in that doorway confused, he needed her to understand that all he could give her was the time when he was home. A painful lesson, but one that he must teach her, slowly and carefully.