Waiting on the Rain by Claudia Connor
8
It was a thirty minute drive to the nearest office of Veterans Affairs In order to finalize his retirement, or any type of discharge, and receive benefits, all soldiers had to make six meetings with a transition counselor spread over the course of three months.
They wanted vets to check in, touch base, and hopefully get men and women to see the benefit of reaching out for help before it was too late. They also helped with civilian job placement and dealing with the differences encountered in civilian life. Sometimes it was just to talk. His least favorite thing to do.
He didn’t resent the new program. Much. He didn’t need it, but he knew guys who did. The suicide rate among returning veterans was staggering, so he had to appreciate the effort. Even so, he’d asked if he could just do all six of his hours in one day. Not the way it worked, so this would make his third appointment. He’d waited a month to get started. Okay, closer to two, but he was in it now.
Financially, he wasn’t pressed to get a job. The only thing he’d ever bought was a cheap house he didn’t sleep in enough for it to matter, and a truck. But he wouldn’t deny he needed a plan. Couldn’t deny he felt at loose ends.
It often felt like all his ends were loose and flying when he preferred things be tied down tight.
“What’s up doc?” Luke said, entering the small office at the end of a dank, cinderblock hallway.
“As I’ve told you before, I’m not a doctor,” Gary said with a shake of his head and an easy smile. “Have a seat.”
“Right.” Luke took the shit brown and puke green upholstered chair across from Gary. Gary Drummond. Military–Civilian Transition Coach was his official title. He had nothing against Gary, a former marine. He actually liked the guy. But however they dressed it up, Gary was a therapist, and even if neither of them said the word, they both knew it.
Luke looked around the office. The beat-up pine desk. Low metal filing cabinet with a first-generation Keurig on top and a tall ceramic mug that said My Wife Thinks I’m Hot. A tall bookshelf on the wall to the left held more crap than books. But there in the center was a medal in a box. He wondered if that was to remind people like him that Gary had indeed served. Help build rapport? A tangible way to say, I know where you’re coming from?
Fifty-ish, Gary was on the shorter side, stocky, with a thick beard and saggy brown eyes that had him always looking like he was recovering from an all-nighter. The wire rimmed glasses, loose fitting khakis, and white and brown checked dress shirt made Luke think nutty professor. “You put in for a bigger office yet?”
Gary sat back, smiled again. “You don’t like my office?”
“Mmm.” Luke cracked his neck side to side. He hadn’t seen him in the winter yet, but fully expected to see the same shirt layered with a navy sweater vest. Weird he noticed so much about Gary’s clothes. “At least you have a view.”
Gary looked over his shoulder at the window behind him. An air conditioning system blocked any view if there was one. He turned back, steepled his fingers. “You survived the wedding.”
One good thing about Gary was he didn’t shuffle through papers like he was trying to remember who you were.
“Appears I did.”
“See.” Gary spread his hands. “Told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“Who said I was worried?”
Gary sat back with a friendly expression. That was one thing he didn’t like about Gary. He saw too much. “They both said I do and now they’re married.”
“You happy about that?”
“He’s my brother. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Gary shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
Luke rested his elbows on the armrests, steepled his fingers, mirroring Gary. He waited for Gary to pose a question. Gary waited too. A standoff, Army versus Marines. As a Special Forces fighter, Luke figured he had the upper hand.
“Anything eventful?” Gary finally asked.
“You mean did I get drunk and stumble into the cake singing Sweet Caroline?”
Gary laughed. “Weddings are rife with wayward relatives.”
“Well, I wasn’t the wayward one. Didn’t stab anyone with my salad fork.” Not even the fifth person who’d asked him about life in the Rangers, or the sixth one who’d clapped him on the shoulder and said it must be nice to be back.
“Anyone stumble into the cake? Take the band’s mic to make a drunken statement of love?”
Luke huffed out a laugh. “You’ve been to wild weddings, Doc. But, no. Nothing eventful, unusual, out of the ordinary, or unexpected.” Except Ava. Ava had been unexpected.
Gary leaned back in his chair into what Luke now thought of as his non-threatening pose. “You mentioned last time you didn’t know why you were here. In this town specifically.”
Luke raised a brow. “Jumping right in today, huh, Doc?”
Gary lifted his hands in a small, hey, I’m innocent gesture. It was harmless enough question. Not even a question really, though every comment Gary made was meant to elicit a response.
“Reconnecting with family can be hard. Especially when you’ve been gone so long.”
Luke said nothing. It didn’t feel like reconnecting exactly. He hadn’t ever been connected to his brothers as an adult. This was more like repeatedly seeing people you were supposed to have a deep connection with but didn’t. He hadn’t shared a Christmas or birthday with his siblings in over twenty years.
Somewhere, deep down, maybe he’d thought that if he came back, he could go back to that time. Do what he should have done, been who he should’ve been. Too bad life didn’t work like that.
“Sometimes going to weddings makes people start thinking about their own future.”
He looked back to Gary. “Is going to a wedding what made you want to get married?”
“No. I met Laura, fell in love, and then I wanted to get married.”
“Please. Tell me more.”
Gary chuckled. “Here. I’ve got something for you. Even if you are a pain in my ass.”
While Gary shuffled through a pile of papers on his desk, Luke thought about what he wasn’t saying about the wedding. That he’d felt more in those moments with Ava in his arms than he’d felt in weeks. Maybe years.
But there’d been something there with Ava before the song hit the second chorus. Before he’d even asked her to dance. Beyond beautiful, she was funny, smart, easy to talk to, and relaxed. And in turn she relaxed him. And maybe she’d needed him, just a little.
Timing is everything, isn’t that what people said? But time was also everything and you never knew how much of it you were going to get. He’d seen that time and time again. “What were you thinking about just now?”
Luke’s mind jerked back, but on the outside he showed no sign Gary had interrupted his thoughts. “Nothing.”
Gary sighed. “So, civilian jobs I thought might interest you.” He slid over a sheet of paper.
Civilian job. Why did that sound like such a dirty word? Maybe because he felt guilty for being on the outside and out of danger. Now that was something Gary would love to talk about.
Luke gave the list a quick look.
“Operations research analyst,” Gary said, tapping his finger at the top of the page. “This could be strategizing business plans and best practices for an organization. It’s a job that comes naturally to a lot of Rangers who’ve been trained in logistics and military strategy. These are research-intensive jobs that involve investigating a company. It’d be primarily behind a desk—”
“No. No desk.”
Gary looked up from his paper. “Okay. No desk. That narrows things down a bit.” He looked back to his paper. “Training and Development Managers. Corporations have finally figured out that Rangers make especially good trainers, teaching others to think strategically in a fast-paced environment. It involves assessing employees—”
“Nope. Don’t want to assess anyone and I don’t want employees.”
“They wouldn’t be your employees, but got it.” He made an X next to that one. “What about security?”
“Paul Blart?”
Gary laughed. “I wasn’t thinking mall cop, but if that interests you…” He shrugged.
“Would I get a Segway?”
“Maybe.” Gary sat back. “Are you staying in this area? Have you decided that?”
Luke made a noncommittal sound, shrugged.
“It’s good to have family. A support system.”
Luke nodded even as he thought Gary was making a great argument as to why he shouldn’t stay. He didn’t want his siblings to support him. Emotionally or otherwise.
“Okay. Moving on. What about law enforcement?”
“No, thanks.”
“You know,” Gary said, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s a good thing you’re so easy to work with. Otherwise I might feel like I’m not good at my job. What about teaching?”
“You mean kids? Among other reasons, I’m not qualified.”
“Maybe not, but with minimal hours through Troops to Teachers, all offered online, you could be. High school math. History. Maybe geography. Share your knowledge, and shiny personality, with the next generation.” Greg smiled and slid the typed sheet of paper across the desk.
Luke took it, folded the sheet precisely in half, then slid his finger along the fold. He’d come back bodily whole when a lot of men hadn’t. And what was he going to do with that? One more thing to feel guilty about.
“Thanks,” he said and folded it precisely again. “I appreciate the effort here.”
Gary sighed, tapped his fingers together. “How are things with the family?”
“Great. Other than the looks they share when they don’t think I’m looking. Like they’re afraid I’m about to blow and they don’t know whether to sacrifice themselves and jump on top of me or run.”
“Are you worried you’re going to blow?”
Was he? He didn’t think so. And maybe that meant something was wrong with him. “No. And that wasn’t right. None of them would run. Not my older brother who no doubt thinks I’m here because I got kicked out for some reason, not even my baby sister who wants to pet me and feed me and worries if I’m sleeping enough.”
Seconds passed in silence and Luke sighed. “Go ahead. Ask. I know you have to.”
“I don’t have to,” the man across from him said with a hint of defensiveness.
Luke waited.
“Okay, fine,” Gary said and huffed. He leaned forward to open his notebook. “How are you sleeping?”
“Like a baby.”
“Dreams?”
“Dreams?” Luke raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure we know each well enough for that.”
“Smart ass.”
“Okay. Rarely, but when I do, they’re wet dreams.”
Gary cracked a smile at that, and shook his head. “My wife is going to love this when she types up my notes.”
“What?”
“Kidding. What about sex? Have you been… intimate with anyone since you’ve been back?”
“Definitely not going there.” Luke leaned back, stretched his long legs out in front of him. “But if there’s something you want to talk to me about, I’m here for you.”
“God, you are such a pain in my ass.”
Luke smiled. “What can I say?”
Gary pushed on. “Nightmares?”
“You know, Gary, you asking me this every time I see you is starting to give me a complex. Should I be having nightmares?”
“What do you think?”
“I think I saw some messed up shit. Wouldn’t a normal person dream about it? Think about it?”
“There’s no normal. There’s just you.”
“Sorry, Gary, but that’s a load of horse shit. If it was all normal you wouldn’t ask.”
“Not true. I ask because if you were, even though it’s normal, it might help to talk about it.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then you say, ‘I’m fantastic, Gary. Thanks for asking.’ Unless it bothers you that you’re not.”
Luke muttered a curse under his breath. This is why people in general baulked at seeing a shrink. If you weren’t screwed up about something when you went in, you were when you came out. “What about you? Do you have nightmares?”
“I used to. Not so much anymore.”
Luke hadn’t expected Gary to answer. He should have.
“When something happens that we’d rather not think about, it’s natural to internalize it when we relax our mind.”
“Uh, huh. And look at that.” Luke raised his left wrist and the thick black wrist watch. “My time’s up.”
Gary tapped on his own watch. “Almost. Any questions for me?”
Will I always feel marked because of what I’ve seen and done? Will I ever stop feeling like people can see it just by looking at me? “Nah, I’m good.”
“Okay, just a few tips then. I may have mentioned them before. Yoga, meditating, and hey, riding, since you have horses at your disposal. Even a simple walk can help you assimilate back into civilian life. Help you appreciate and rediscover what you might have missed.”
“I was seventeen when I enlisted.”
“I saw that. Underage.” Gary frowned.
“Yeah, well. I wasn’t much of a rule follower.” His parents were dead and all he’d needed was a guardian’s signature, which was his nineteen-year-old brother, Nick. No one in the recruiting office had looked too hard at his forgery. “And I wasn’t doing a lot of meditating.”
“Look at my shocked face. But that’s a good point. You were young, so take some time to figure out what you’re interested in now. Above all, give yourself time.” When Luke didn’t respond, Gary sighed. “You don’t have to do it alone. If you don’t feel like you can talk to me, then someone else. Trust me, it’s better than holding onto it.”
“Okay.” Luke stood with the list in his hand. “Thanks again for this,” he said sliding it into his back pocket. “And don’t look now Gary, but someone’s messed with your toys again.”
At Luke’s gesture, Gary looked over and saw his original Stretch Armstrong was in fact doing obscene things to the Bionic Woman.
* * *
The stiff windblowing west to east helped with Ava’s sense of direction as she made her turns. It whipped the strands of hair that had escaped her braid across her left cheek. Hannah’s voice, calling out directions, was directly in front of her.
She’d already made four passes around the riding ring at a walk, then two at a trot. Even walking was a thrill, feeling Banjo’s big body beneath her. Hearing his breath, breathing in his scent. She hadn’t ridden in so many years, and then only at camp once a summer.
“Keep your seat,” Hannah called. “Use your legs to keep him moving.”
Ava did her best to follow Hannah’s instructions. As much as she was focusing, her mind still jumped to Luke every now and then. When it did, she jerked it right back. They were two adults who’d shared a couple of sexually sparked hours together. Well, there’d been sparks on her end.
She wasn’t going to do anything as stupid as ask Hannah for his number. And she didn’t really expect him to ask for hers. After all, she’d told him she was only in town until her father was back on his feet.
“Okay, Ava. You’re approaching four ground poles. Keep going just as you are. Good. That’s great.”
Ava felt the slight change in the horse as he came to something he had to pay more attention to but he kept his even one two gait.
“Okay,” Hannah said, her voice following Ava down the ring. “You’re nearing the end of the center aisle. Make a left turn and come down the outside. You’ll come to the low cross bars midway down.”
Ava felt a little tickle in her belly. She’d walked the entire course before she ever got on the horse today so she had a sense of where everything was set up, how high the cross rails were. Not so high that Banjo would have to jump over them, but he would have to pick up his feet to high step which would change the rhythm. Not an Olympic worthy jump by any means, but it was something she’d never done before, and a challenge.
“Good. Heels down, close your legs. Strong back, chin up.”
At Hannah’s direction she made a conscious effort to drive her heels farther down in the stirrups and squeeze her calves to the horse’s sides.
“Cross bar coming up in three, two, one.”
The horse’s gait changed but she was ready for it.
“Beautiful!” Hannah called out. “Keep posting straight ahead toward me. Okay. Start a gentle turn left, ninety degrees in three, two, one.”
The horse was so familiar with going around this ring, he could probably do it without her, but Ava guided him, posting up and down in time with his trot. She made the turn with a light tug on the left rein and a slight shift in her leg position. Hannah also moved so that her voice was still in front of her as she made the turn.
“Bring him to a walk. Great job.”
By the sound of Hannah’s voice, Ava judged her to be about six feet ahead. A few more steps and she drew the horse to a full stop.
“You’re a natural,” Hannah said, patting Banjo’s neck. “How did it feel?”
“Great. I think I confused him a little when I made the turn just then.”
“I couldn’t tell. But if you felt it, try to focus on sliding your outside leg forward a hair while squeezing more with your inside calf.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s pick up a trot and go through the same thing again.”
By the timeLuke had picked up the supplies he needed and made it back to the barn, it was after three. He could still get in maybe four hours before it got too dark. Then he’d switch to inside work. And hope he could get to sleep before the sun rose.
A lot of guys got in the habit of staying up late to avoid sleep and dreams and then sleeping all day. Made it hard to hold a job that way. That wasn’t him or he’d been determined it wouldn’t be.
He parked outside the barn and got out, almost leaving his truck running while he grabbed the specs he needed from the office, but turned off the ignition at the last second in case Hannah had a chore for him. He lived for chores. The more the better.
The warm air blew his hair off his forehead and he took in the blue sky and again thought of Ava with eyes that didn’t see him. And wasn’t there something appealing about that? That she couldn’t see him. Even in the short time they’d spent together, it had felt like a reprieve. That if he was indeed marked by war, she wouldn’t see it.
Before he made it inside the barn, he heard Hannah calling out instructions in the riding ring and changed direction to watch. It wasn’t a child in the saddle, it was an adult and not just any adult, he realized as he reached the fence. An unmistakable pale braid hung mid-way down her back from under the riding helmet.
Hannah stood several yards away from horse and rider. There was no lead rope, no lunge line as he’d seen her use with the McKinney kids who came out for lessons. This was Ava, riding around the ring on the giant chestnut. He propped his foot on the bottom rung, watching intently.
“Your balance is great,” his sister was saying. “Focus on driving your heels down just a little more, engage your core and you’ll be ready for the jump when it comes.”
Jump? What the hell? He dropped his foot back to the ground, poised to jump over the rail.
“Keep coming around and I’ll count you off as you go over the ground poles. Okay get in your two point.”
Ava raised her bottom out of the saddle, body tilted forward, back rod straight, her heels indeed down as Hannah had said. She held her position as the horse trotted over three poles on the ground then went over the cross bars. It wasn’t more than two feet but he held his breath.
Damn. She looked like she’d been riding her entire life. Maybe she had, but how the hell did she do it?
“That was great,” Hannah said. “Let’s end there. Good job Ava, great form. And good job Banjo.”
Hannah and Ava both patted the horse’s neck. When Hannah began leading them in his direction, Luke stood stock still. He should retreat to the office, get what he came for and get gone. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
This was a different Ava than he’d met at the reception. And he was just as interested in this jeans and T-shirt version. The wide smile on her face and the slow rhythmic rocking, rocking of her body atop the brown gelding held him. He had a flash of her straddling him, her long hair hanging down, her body rocking, rocking.
Shit. Ava might not be able to see him, but his sister could and she was looking right at him, her eyebrows raised, and a curious grin. Luke made a hasty retreat to the office.
“Hey,” Hannah said, joining him in the office.
“Hey. I forgot to get the specs for the appliances.”
“Right. Sorry.” She shuffled through a stack of papers on her desk then snapped her fingers and walked to the dented file cabinet. “I’m actually very organized.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” As she pulled open the drawer and rifled through folders, Luke heard the clip clop of horse shoes on the cement barn floor.
“Forget it. I can come back. Finish up with Ava.”
“I am finished. Ava’s got it from here, and…. Got it.” She handed Luke an envelope. “Stephen said he’ll help you this weekend, but I told him you wanted to see them now. Oh, hey, before I forget. Have you seen Tom the cat recently? I haven’t seen him in days.”
“No, sorry. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
The office phone rang and Luke gave her a wave goodbye. The open barn doors on his left, led to his truck—he was just feet away. But halfway down the aisle to the right was Ava. He could say, hi. He could go. He glanced down at the finger tapping a fast beat on his thigh.
Who the hell was he kidding?
He turned right.