John
Hailey returns a few minutes later. “Ensign Bidlack is here. You ready?”
“Yeah.” I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I tuck my uniform hat under one arm and hold my crutches with the other hand.
Hailey props open the door and then comes for me, pushing my chair into a corridor lined with doctors, nurses, physical therapists and other hospital staff who break into applause at the sight of me.
Several of them are in tears as I go by.
I’m blown away. I can’t believe they did this, especially since I was a raging asshole to many of them over the last couple of months. That doesn’t seem to matter now as they give me a send-off I’ll never forget.
The sound of their applause follows me all the way to the elevators.
I look up at Hailey and catch her wiping away tears. “You did that.”
She shakes her head. “Everyone wanted to be here for you.”
“Thank you so much.” My voice is gruff with emotion. I’m like a live wire these days, experiencing so many emotions in the span of a day that I can barely process them before another day is upon me with a million new emotions. And this day promises to be the most emotional one yet.
In the lobby, we meet up with Ensign Bidlack, who shakes my hand and thanks me for my service before loading me into the handicap-accessible van. This is my life now, I think as I’m raised into the back of the van on a lift.
I immediately reject that thought. It’s my life until I get used to the prosthetic and can stand for more than a few minutes at a time.
The chair is temporary, as are the crutches.
My PT team tells me I’ll be able to run, ski, ride bikes and do all the things I used to before I became an amputee.
It’s hard to imagine that when I’m still working on standing, but they know better than me what to expect.
On the ride to the hotel, I soak in the scenery, hungry for the sight of familiar landmarks in San Diego, the place I’ve lived longer than anywhere else in my nomadic life. Ava and San Diego are home to me.
We arrive at the Fairmont Grand Del Mar, and the memories come flooding back.
We’d had to vacate our apartment for three days while it was painted, and I surprised Ava with a mini-getaway to the five-star hotel.
I’m unprepared for the rush of emotions that overtake me as the Spanish details come into view, reminding me of being here with her.
Something like that never would’ve made me choke up before, but now…
“Captain?” Bidlack has the doors open. “Are you ready, sir?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” After he’s lowered me to street level, I say, “Straight to the elevators. Don’t stop for any reason.”
“Yes, sir.”
Muncie took care of checking me in under his name and instructed Bidlack to pick up the key before he came for me. I don’t want anyone to know I’m here, so I keep my eyes down and my gaze averted, hoping no one will recognize me. We get as far as the elevators when a woman gasps.
“You’re that Navy SEAL!”
“Ma’am, please give Captain West his privacy,” Bidlack says, shocking the hell out of me.
“Of course,” she says, backing off. “My apologies. Thank you for your service.”
Bidlack rolls me in, and the doors close behind me.
I look up at him. “Well done, Ensign.”
“Commander Muncie told me he’d have me demoted to seaman apprentice if I let anyone bother you.”
That makes me laugh. Good old Muncie. I owe the guy after what he’s done for me these last few days.
“He wasn’t joking,” Bidlack says earnestly. He’s so young. I don’t recall ever being that young—probably because I wasn’t.
When we arrive on the floor, he backs me out of the elevator and steers me toward the room. The suite is just like the one we had the last time we were here.
“Is this to your liking, sir?”
“Yes, thank you, Bidlack.” I point to a chair. “Let me sit there, and then stash the wheelchair in the bedroom if you would.”
“Yes, sir.”
When I’m settled in the chair with the crutches propped against the arm, he rolls the chair into the bedroom and out of sight.
Someone knocks on the door, stopping my heart. It’s not time yet. She shouldn't be here yet.
Bidlack goes to admit a room service waiter who delivers a pitcher of ice water. He brings the pitcher to the table, pours me a glass and leaves a second empty glass next to the pitcher. That’s for Ava.
Ava.
God, Ava… Hurry. Please hurry. I need to see you so badly.
“Commander Muncie thought you might appreciate the water. He said to order anything else you might want.”
“The water is good. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Not now.”
“You have my number to call when you’re ready to return to the hospital?”
“I do.”
“I’ll wait for your call, sir. And may I say while I have the chance that it’s an honor and a privilege to have met you.
” He salutes and spins to leave before I can raise my arm to return the salute.
I can’t remember the last time I was saluted.
The courtesies we take for granted here in the States were the least of our concerns in the field.
Ava’s flight is due to land in the next few minutes. It’s a thirty-minute ride from the airport to the hotel. Muncie is supposed to text me when they land. I take my phone from my pocket and hold it in my hand, staring at it until it comes to life ten minutes later.
Landed. The fiancé is with her…
“Fuck. No.” I text him back. Please ask her to come to me alone.
I’ll do what I can.
Give me a heads-up when you’re close.
Will do.
I want to be standing when she comes into the room.
The half hour passes so slowly, I wonder if the clock is moving backward instead of forward.
I stare so hard at my phone that my vision blurs.
After nearly six years, the last thirty minutes are the most difficult because I know she’s close—closer to me than she’s been since the last time I saw her.
The phone lights up with a text from Muncie. Lobby. She’s coming alone.
I put the phone in my pocket and reach for the crutches, straining to pull myself up with muscles that don’t work the way they used to. Something that once would’ve been so easy now takes all my strength.
I keep most of my weight on my good leg and grasp the high back of an easy chair until I have my balance. I carefully prop the crutches on the front side of the chair, keeping them in reach. I brush the wrinkles out of my uniform as my heart pounds and my mouth goes dry.
With my gaze fixed on the door, I wait.
Ava
Muncie hands me a key card and the room number. “He won’t be able to answer the door, so use this.”
“Why can’t he answer the door?”
“He’s not really walking yet.” He hesitates, seeming to decide something. “It was vitally important to him that he be able to stand before he saw you. That’s all he can do so far. Eventually, he’ll be able to do everything he did before, but right now… Standing is a huge accomplishment.”
As I take the key card from him, I realize my hands are shaking. I glance at Eric. Ever since Muncie told me John wants to see me alone, Eric hasn’t said a word. His body is so tight with tension that I’m afraid to touch him.
Muncie hands him a key card for a room on another floor. “Your bags will be delivered there. Whenever you’re ready,” he says to me, “you can go on up. Captain West is waiting for you.” He walks away.
Captain West is waiting for you.
It’s surreal that John is in this hotel waiting to see me and that he chose this of all places for our reunion. I don’t tell Eric that we’re here because John and I once spent a beautiful weekend here while our apartment was being painted.
I look up at Eric. “I’m going to go now. I’ll meet you at the other room after?”
He nods and places his hands on my shoulders before leaning his forehead against mine. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know what I am. You?”
“Same. I wish I could go with you.”
“I do, too, but it might be better if—”
“I understand. Don’t worry. Just go do what you have to do and come to me after, okay?”
“Okay.” I have a lump the size of Texas in my throat.
“I love you, Ava.”
“Love you, too.” I’m afraid to move, afraid to leave him, afraid to see John and confront the painful memories. I’m afraid to breathe.
“Go while I still can let you.” His hands drop to his sides, and he takes a step back.
I want to cling to him, beg him not to let go, but I can’t do that to him. This is already excruciating for him. I try to imagine how I would feel if we’d come here so he could see Brittany. I wouldn’t be able to handle it, certainly not as gracefully as he’s handling this.
I swallow the lump in my throat and force my feet to move, to walk toward the elevator, to push the Up arrow, to get into the car and push the number I need. I keep my gaze down so I won’t see Eric, but I know he’s watching me.
I feel shredded by his pain. This is killing him, but he came with me anyway, held my hand for six hours on the flight and left me only when he had to.
I thought I understood the word agony, but I’ve never experienced the emotion as acutely as I do right now, watching the numbers ascend on the panel above the doors. Each number takes me closer to John.
The doors open and nearly close again before I notice and step forward to get off.
I panic for a second, thinking I’ve forgotten the room number, but then I remember and follow the arrows.
Standing in front of the door where John waits for me, I’m unable to move or breathe or think or do anything other than stare at the door.
He won’t be able to answer the door…
Standing is a huge accomplishment.
I hold the key card up to the black circle on the door and watch the green light come on. Green means go. I push open the door.
He’s standing about ten feet from me.
The first thing I notice is the uniform.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t the stark reminder of why we’re here, why this happened, where he’s been, why he had to go.
In the span of seconds, my eyes travel from his chest to his face, and then I’m crying and moving toward him, drawn to him the same way I’ve always been.