Yours Always (18 page)

I choke on my lemonade.  “You’re not having sex, are you?”

“Oh, goodness no!  Ewww.  That’s gross.”

“Keep that attitude until you’re out of high school,” I suggest.

“How old were you when you first had sex?”

Why does this kid feel so free to talk to me about these things?  Okay, think this through.  If you don’t answer her questions, she’s going to ask her friends and who knows what kinds of crazy things they’ll tell her.  It’s best that the information comes from a knowledgeable and reliable source, right?  Oh God, please don’t let Julia kill me for this.

“Molly, you can’t gauge the right time to have sex upon others and when they first did it.  It has to be a personal decision, and one that shouldn’t be made lightly.  I know that there are a lot of shows and movies that make casual sex look fun and interesting and intriguing, but the honest truth is that sex with someone you love is the best it will ever be.  It’s worth it to wait until you’re absolutely sure.”

She looks in deep thought.  “So you’ve had casual sex, and sex with someone you’re in love with, and you’re telling me that it’s better to wait because love sex feels better than acquaintance sex.”

“Pretty much,” I answer.

“Okay, I want it to be good, so I’ll wait.”

“Wise choice,” I say, fighting through the discomfort.

“What are your thoughts on contraception?  Which methods work best?”

“Molly, that’s a talk that’s best left for another trip way in the distant future.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, slurping up the last of her lemonade.  I rub my forehead with my fingers to ward off the headache that’s threatening to surface.  “You look like my mom,” Molly says with a laugh.

“Huh?  Oh,” I say smiling while lowering my hand.  “Anything else you want to look at while we’re here?”

“Nah, I’m ready to go if you are.”

I am, so we spend the drive back loudly singing along to the radio.  Molly looks sad when I pull the car into Julia’s driveway.

“I wish today didn’t have to end.  I always have so much fun when I’m with you, Aunt Savannah.  I’m glad Uncle Fletcher found you.” She bear hugs me when we reach the front door.

“Me, too,” I say laughing.  Julia’s sitting at the kitchen counter when we come through the door, and her eyes squinch up from confusion when she spies Molly.  I shake my head, hoping she gets the message to not say anything.

“Molly, why don’t you show your mom what you got this afternoon?” I suggest.

“Mom, I got my boobies!” she says excitedly.

I smack my forehead with my palm then shake my head.

“I notice.  What…”

“I took her bra shopping.  I hope you don’t mind.  The bras only have a little padding in there, and I only got them because she was feeling insecure around her friends who’ve already blossomed.”

“Molly, why don’t you put your things in your room, okay?” Julia says. 

“I’m a little conflicted about this,” Julia admits once Molly leaves the room.  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m appreciative that you spent time with her, and that she feels comfortable enough with you to discuss such things, but do you think it’s wise to let her wear that?”

“I understand your concern, but I didn’t buy it to make her feel sexy, I bought it to boost her confidence and to make her spend less time worrying about catching up with the other girls.  She’s curious, but I know from talking with her that she’s not ready for the other things that parents worry about with their teens.  For Molly, it’s all about keeping up with the Jones’ in the looks department right now, Julia.”

She breathes a sigh of relief.  “Okay, I feel better now.  Thanks for helping her through this.  I try to be open and honest with her, but talking with your mom about these things…”

“Yeah, we had that conversation, too.  Relax, you’re doing a good job, Mom.  She’s so smart, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“I’m really glad Fletcher found you,” Julia says, hugging me.

“You’re the second person to tell me that today.  I appreciate it, but I consider myself the lucky one.  Speaking of Fletcher, I guess I should get home.  I haven’t heard from him all day.  He’s been so swamped with work, poor thing.”

“Ask him if he’d like to barbecue tomorrow.  I can throw some burgers on the grill, and we can swim.”

“Sounds like fun.  I’ll text you once I get an answer.”

“Thanks again, Savannah.  Molly, Aunt Savannah’s leaving,” Julia calls down the hallway.  Molly reappears in a flash.

“No problem,” I say, smiling broadly when Molly tightly hugs me.

“Bye, Aunt Savannah.  Thanks for today!”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. See you soon.”

After a quick wave goodbye, I drive the couple of blocks to my house, and I’m perplexed to find it absolutely silent inside.  No television, no radio, none of the usual background noises that generally greet me.
Maybe Fletcher went out for a run?
  No, his running shoes are still in their neat position next to the door.

“Fletcher,” I call, but get no answer.  I start going room to room in search of him.  “Fletcher, I’m home!”

Room after room comes up empty.  I turn on the bedroom light and everything looks just as I’d left it in the morning.  I’m about to click off the light when a strange sound rattles from the walk-in closet.  Fear slowly creeps into my throat making it difficult to breathe.  My heart thuds in my chest as I’m turning the handle to slowly open the door.  Once I peek inside, I throw it open completely.

“Fletcher?  Oh, my God!  Baby, what’s wrong?  Are you hurt?” I ask.  He’s curled tightly into the fetal position, his hands balled into fists covering his eyes.

“Make it stop.  Make it stop,” he repeats over and over.  I lie on the floor beside him, carefully stroking his arm.

“Fletcher, it’s Savannah.  I’m home, baby.  I’m home.  I’m here.”

He swats my arm away, and I’m in tears because my husband needs me, but I don’t know what to do to help him.  All of my medical training flies out the window when it comes to seeing him this way.  I immediately call Julia and tell her to leave Molly at home, but to come as quickly as she can.  She’s at my house in about two minutes.  I tell her as quickly as possible what’s going on, and she follows me into the bedroom.  She squats next to him.

“Fletcher, it’s Julia.  It’s Sissy.  We’ve gotten through this before, and we’ll do it again.  It’s okay.  You’re home, and you’re safe.”

“Sissy?” he asks, slowly dropping his fist.

“Yes, it’s Sissy.”

“I killed Brody.  I killed your husband.  Molly’s dad is gone because of me.”

She slowly helps Fletcher to sit up, and she grips him while he trembles violently in her arms.

“You didn’t kill Brody, Fletcher.  The enemy did.  He knew it was a risk when he signed up—we all knew the risk.  Brody wouldn’t want you to feel guilty because of his death, Fletcher.”

“No, it was me.  He only signed up because of me.”

“No, he was a grown man, and he signed up because he wanted to sign up.  He asked me if I wanted him to stay, and I told him to do what he felt was right in his heart.  He wanted to serve his country, Fletcher, and there’s nothing that you could have done to stop that.”

“It was my idea.”

“Shhhh.”  She kisses him on the forehead.  “It might have been your idea, but it was his decision.”

“The pain won’t go away, Sissy.  I fight and fight, but it won’t stop.”

“Why have you been hiding this from us, Fletcher?  Why didn’t you let us know that you’ve been having problems again?”

“Because I feel like a failure.  Such a failure,” he begins to cry, and my heart can’t take it anymore.  I turn away so he won’t see my heartbreak on my face.

“You are not a failure, you’re sick.  You’re having a relapse, and you need to go back to the treatment center.”

“I don’t want to go back.  I want to stay here with my wife; I want to be normal again.”

“You can be well again.  You go back to the facility for a month or so, and you work hard, FINISH your treatment this time, and you come home and pick up things from there.  Fletcher, you’ve been through a lot, and the doctors told you this might happen from time to time.  They also told you that it’s very important that you get help as soon as you start having issues again.  How long has this been going on?”

“Since before I got married.”

“Oh, Fletcher.  Almost two years now, and you didn’t tell anyone?”

“It’s my fault,” I finally speak up.

“Savannah?  You’re here?” Fletcher asks.  “Go!  Go now!  I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“No, I’m not leaving,” I say, kneeling in front of him.  “I love you, and I want to help you.  Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were still having problems?”

“What do you mean by STILL having problems?  What happened?” Julia asks.  “What are you talking about?”

“There were fireworks the night of Ben and Lizzy’s wedding, and Fletcher got very sick.  Then there was this one other time, but nothing since…at least nothing I’ve witnessed.”

“Fletcher, tell us the truth, how bad is it?” Julia questions.

He hangs his head in defeat.  “I can’t leave the house without panicking.”

Julia rises.  “I’m calling the facility to get you a bed.”

He tightly grips her wrist.  “No, I can work through this.  I just need some time.  Savannah will help me.  Won’t you, sweetie?”

“Yes, of course, baby.  I’ll do anything to help you.”

“See, no need for all the other stuff.”  He slowly rises to his feet.  “I’m feeling much better already.”

“Why don’t you lie down for a little while,” I suggest.  He agrees, so I pull back the covers then tuck him in once he’s settled.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he weakly answers.  He looks absolutely exhausted and defeated.  I kiss him softly on the lips then turn out the lights. Julia and I retreat to the kitchen.

“You’re not going to be able to do this, Savannah,” Julia warns.  “You weren’t there to witness how bad it got before.  Call Ben and talk to him about it.  He needs treatment from trained professionals.  I know you love him, and you want to be with him, but believe me when I tell you that the hospital in Colorado is the best thing for him.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but Julia, I have to take his feelings into consideration, too.  Maybe we can try to work on it together, just for a week or two, and see if his condition improves.  I’ll do lots of research, and maybe we can get him to see a local therapist…”

Julia sighs.  “I can’t tell you what to do; I can only offer my advice, which I’ve done.  I’m here if you need me.  Stay strong.”  And with those parting words, she leaves.

Fletcher sleeps the rest of the afternoon and all through the night, but my night is spent trying to figure out the right decision for Fletcher and me.  I don’t fall asleep until close to four in the morning.  Later that morning, I awaken to find he’s fixed me breakfast in bed.  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, placing a tray filled with pancakes, bacon, and eggs in front of me.

“Sorry for what?  You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, smiling as I take in all of the goodies he’s fixed for me.

“I know it was probably scary to see me like that, but I want you to know it doesn’t happen often.  Also, I know that I haven’t been leaving that house to run errands and such, and that is unacceptable.  I want to work on that immediately, and to prove to you that I’m doing better, we’ll go anywhere you desire.”

“Well, we were invited to Julia’s for barbecue today.”

He nods.  “Barbecue at Julia’s.  Okay.  No problem.  Sounds fun.”

“You might want to text her and let her know that we’re coming,” I suggest before biting into a crispy piece of bacon.

“On it,” he says, practically bounding from the bed to get his cell phone from the living room.

“You’re certainly in a good mood today,” I yell from the bed.

He lies next to me.  “Yep!  It’s a whole new day, a better day. The first day that I finally get my life back on track and back to normal.”

“I like your attitude,” I say, accepting the kiss he’s leaning forward to give me.

“Julia says to be there around eleven and to bring our swimsuits.”

“Sounds like fun.  I had a really good day with Molly yesterday.”

“I was going to ask you about that.”

“We didn’t stay at the water park very long.  It was so crowded, and we weren’t having much fun, so we went shopping instead.”

“Did you buy anything nice?” he asks.

“Not for me.”

“Why not?”

“I was too busy helping to cure some of Molly’s teenage angst.”

“Oh, boy.  I can only imagine.”

“It wasn’t so bad.  Well, it wasn’t until she asked me my preferred choice of contraception and why.”

“She what!  Please tell me that she’s not having sex.”

I laugh.  “She’s not, and she’s not interested.”

“Okay, I can breathe again.”

“She had boob envy, but the problem is now resolved.”