4. Lincoln
4
LINCOLN
Loud beeping came from beside my head. I reached up and smacked my hand around on the nightstand, trying to make it stop. When I was finally able to wrap my fingers around my phone, I shut off the alarm and groaned, the sound echoing off the bare walls. Almost two years in the same place and I hadn’t bothered to decorate much of the space. There wasn’t anything of value I wanted to hang on my walls.
I sat up slowly and moved my feet over the side of the bed. With all the aches and pains I had in the morning, I might have well been in my forties, not a mere twenty-eight years old. Every morning was the same. Movement helped, especially in the winter when the cool air made my muscles tighter. I did some of the exercises I learned when completing the physical therapy for my leg and shoulder.
The streetlights were still on, lighting up the still dark pavement. Why I forced myself out of bed at six in the morning to work out was beyond me. Although it was better than trying to do it after my shift at the urgent care, when all I wanted to do was come home and relax. Knowing it was the only way to stay in shape, I forced myself to stand and head for the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later, I was at the community center changing to get into the pool. The bag I packed the night before waited in my car for the ride up to my parents’ house after work. Since I only had to work a half day, I figured it was easiest to leave right from there to make the six-hour drive home. Then I’d have the entire weekend to catch up on some sleep and eat a few home-cooked meals. Frozen lasagna and chicken got old after a while. Nothing could beat my mom’s cooking.
Swim goggles on, I dived into the pool, letting the repetitive movements take me out of my head for a little while. This hour of the morning, only one other lane was in use, something I learned early on when I started coming to the community center to swim. The scars on my back weren’t something I wanted people to see, so the first time I swam here, I’d left my shirt on, making it hard to complete the strokes. Once I figured out the time with the fewest people, it became easier to remove my shirt to swim. That, and when someone was in the pool, their sole focus was on their breathing and form. Not the person in the lane a few down from them.
Each lap brought me a little bit back to center. The burn of my muscles, the racing of my heart. It made me feel a little more normal. No worries about my leg, or nightmares. Just me and the water. Every move redundant. Most people wouldn’t enjoy the simplicity of repeating things over and over again, but for me, it was a lifesaver. It gave me something to focus on instead of letting my thoughts spiral out of control to places I didn’t want to visit.
Climbing out of the pool always brought me back to the present. The place where I had to focus harder on keeping the demons at bay. The longer they stayed locked up in my mind, the more I felt like I might finally be free of them one day. My therapist, who I’d seen last night, was happy with the progress I was making, but still worried I was closing myself off too much from the world. He reminded me that only those committed to the work it took would have a chance of getting to the point where their PTSD symptoms didn’t rule their lives.
I reached for the towel I’d set on the chair, drying off just enough that I wouldn’t track water through the locker room and into the shower. Clean and dressed for work, I drove over to the urgent care, excited that this would be a short shift. I enjoyed my job, but it had also been a while since I’d seen my family. We were close. We always had been, even before I’d enlisted in the Navy.
Moving away from them after my discharge had been hard, but it was something I had to do if I was ever going to stand on my own two feet again. Two years later and I was thriving in Espen, something that wouldn’t have happened in Massachusetts. I would have relied too heavily on my family to get me through the day and wouldn’t have put the work in, even if I had many more miles to go. Healing from the mental scars was a bigger process than healing from the physical ones.
When I stepped in through the back door and saw all the rooms filled, I knew I was in for a chaotic six hours. The benefit was that the time would fly, and I’d be on the road home in the blink of an eye. I hung up my coat and dropped my lunch in the fridge in the break room and went straight for Donna, who would tell me where I was needed.
Hours later, I sat down at one of the computers to enter some additional patient information and looked up at the clock. Two hours to go. It had been nonstop since I arrived. Something about the holidays always brought more people in. Not just for injuries, but for illness too. No one wanted to be the person who missed the holiday party for the sniffles. I pulled up the patient’s chart and filled in the missing information.
With a little bit of a lull, I walked up to the front desk to see if there was anything Donna needed. That was when I noticed Devon walking through the front door. He smiled at me as he walked up to reception.
“Hi, Lincoln.”
“Hey, Devon. You know your mom isn’t working today, right?”
His gaze darted over my shoulder then to my left. “Yeah, I was…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I was hoping to talk to you. Are you busy? I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
“No, not at all. Just checking on Donna and the waiting room.” I waved my hand in the direction of the door. “Why don’t you come on back?”
Devon nodded and I moved around from behind the front desk to meet him in the back, away from prying eyes. In a suit, with his jacket unbuttoned, he looked stunning. I could see the definition in his chest beneath the fabric of his button-down shirt. He stepped in front of me, his gaze lowered to the floor for a moment before he brought his head up and looked me directly in the eye.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Before I could say a word, he rushed to continue. “You don’t have to tell me right now. I can’t stay. I have a flight to catch.” He slipped a paper into my hand. “That’s my number. Text me when you can. No pressure. I just… Well, I wanted to ask you, so…” He shrugged. “I’m going to go.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the door.
As quickly as he asked me out on a date, Devon scurried back into the waiting room and out the front door.
Well, fuck.
What was I supposed to say to that? I looked up at the clock. There were still ninety minutes left of my shift. Enough that I didn’t have time to unpack it all and deal with exactly what to say to Devon. I slipped the piece of paper into my pocket, shoved those thoughts into the back of my head, and locked them up tight. Something I’d grown really good at over the last year. I grabbed the next file from the list and called the patient back.
I discharged the last of my patients about twenty minutes after my shift ended and went straight for the break room to grab my stuff. Luckily, I’d been busy enough to push my problem with Devon to the back of my mind. I’d change and shower once I got to my parents’ house. Scrubs were a comfortable way to make a long drive anyway. With one last wave to the doctor and nurses still on duty, I walked out into the cold afternoon air. There were a few fluffy white clouds and the sun sitting high and warm in the sky. It was a nice change from the clouds that covered the sky on most days in the winter. Such a tease when it looked like it might snow but barely did.
I started out of the parking lot and turned my truck in the direction of the highway. As I passed the Jetties’ arena, I remembered Devon stopping by earlier and the piece of paper with his number on it in my pocket. With a long drive ahead of me, what better time to unpack all the shit that came with that number.
Besides the fact that I worked with his mom, I also had to think about Devon being the type of man looking for a relationship. You could see it in his eyes. The way he carried himself. He asked for a date, not a hookup. There was no way I could go out with him. I had enough baggage to fill a 747. It was why I stuck to one-night stands, when I did decide I needed more. Those men knew I was only there for one thing. And it wouldn’t include anyone seeing me completely naked or from the back. No one needed that sight in their mind while they were trying to orgasm.
I ran a hand through my hair. There had to be an easy way to turn him down. It really was about me, no matter how cliché that sounded. I didn’t date because I refused to be a burden to anyone. Nothing could be done about that number until I arrived at my parents. No way would I text and drive. Which left me focused on the road ahead.
Hours later, I pulled into my parents’ driveway where I saw not only my parents’ cars, but my sister’s as well. Just what I needed when I still had to find a way to let Devon down easy. Madison and her sixth sense when it came to my life would dive right in and try to convince me to say yes. I shoved my phone into my pocket and stepped out of the truck. The windows still had the candles in each of them. Christmas lights hung from the roof, lighting up the front yard. I grabbed my bag and went to the front door.
The second the door opened, Madison was on me. “Lincoln!” she yelled as she wrapped her arms around me. “I missed you.”
I dropped my bag and hugged her tight to me. “Missed you too.”
I pressed a kiss to her head. When I was injured overseas, Madison took it the hardest, from what my parents had told me. She refused to leave my bedside once I returned to the States. Pushing me through therapy, then stood by when I was medically discharged trying to find my way in a world I never expected to live in.
She held me for a moment and stepped back. “I wish we didn’t go so long between visits.”
“We’ll find a way to make it happen more often this coming year.”
She plunked her hands down on her hips. “You said that last year.”
I chucked her under her chin. “Yes, but like you pointed out when we talked the other day, I only go to therapy once a week now. Maybe it’ll be even less and easier to travel.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, then smiled, wrapping her arm through mine, directing me toward the kitchen. “You do have a point. And you’re here now.”
“That I am.” My mind wandered to Devon for a minute. I tried to push the thoughts down quickly to keep her from seeing anything on my face.
Madison pulled me to a stop. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “Nothing’s wrong. Just need a shower.”
She studied me for a moment. “I don’t think so, but since you worked today, I’ll let it go for tonight. But I’ll get you to tell me while you’re here.”
I almost groaned, but she started us forward again into the kitchen. Mom and Dad were moving around, getting everything ready for dinner.
Dad held his hand out to me. “Glad you made it safely.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I took his hand and he pulled me into a hug.
“My baby, Lincoln.” Mom dropped the towel in her hands to the counter and wrapped her arms around me. Like Madison, I had at least half a foot on her too.
“Hi, Mom. You do remember that I’m older than Madison.”
“By like two minutes,” I heard Madison mutter behind me.
She patted my cheek. “Trust me. I remember. Are you hungry?”
I glanced down at the scrubs and jacket I still wore. “Yes, but do I have time for a quick shower first?”
“Of course. We’re just having spaghetti.”
I glanced around the room. “No Kevin?”
Dad walked by with a bowl of salad. “He had to work tonight, but he’ll be over tomorrow to celebrate Christmas.”
I nodded. “I’m going to take my bag up to my room and get a shower. I’ll be down in a few.”
“Take your time.”
“Yeah, take your time,” Madison said, popping a piece of bread into her mouth. “More for me.”
“Like you don’t have a house full of food of your own.”
“But I can’t harass you from there.”
I rolled my eyes and left the room chuckling. Back in the foyer, I grabbed my bag and climbed the stairs to my childhood bedroom. When I got there, the first thing I did was set it down and pull out my phone. The small slip of paper Devon handed me earlier fell to the floor. I picked it up and dropped down on the end of the bed.
Deciding the direct approach was the best, I typed in his number and started to text.
Me: Devon, it’s Lincoln. Thank you for the invite to dinner, but I can’t right now.
I read over the message a few times before hitting send. Hopefully, it didn’t cause an earful from Nat at work when I got back. She knew I’d been medically discharged and saw a therapist for PTSD, but that was it. She didn’t know what actually happened that night when everything changed.
I dropped my phone onto the bed and grabbed my clothes, heading straight for the shower in the hall. I was only here for three days and wanted to make the most of every minute.