8. Lincoln
8
LINCOLN
Wind whipped all around me when I stepped out the door on my way home for the night. With the holidays over, the patients needing urgent care were back to a manageable level, where we were didn’t have to work twelve-hour days multiple times a week, even if flu season had kicked into gear. Tonight, it was my turn to leave early.
The cold January night made its way through my coat. It normally wouldn’t bother me, except the wind made it feel even colder. There was something frigid about the air that blew off the ocean. I picked up my pace, unlocking my truck, and climbing in as soon as I got the door opened. Just because I’d dealt with much worse growing up, didn’t mean I enjoyed being cold.
The moment the truck started, I cranked the heat and shoved my hands in front of the vents. Once my fingers didn’t feel so frozen, I put the truck in gear and headed down the road toward my favorite pizza place. No need to cook on a Monday night if I didn’t have to. Besides, it wouldn’t taste very good, even if I tried.
With a pepperoni and sausage pizza on the passenger seat, and a pack of Reese’s Pieces for dessert, I turned into the lot for my building, more than ready to chill in front of the TV for the rest of the night.
After a brief elevator ride, I finally closed the door of my apartment, dropping the keys by the door. I took the pizza to the kitchen and placed it in the oven, turning it on low to keep it warm while I showered.
The warm water loosened the tension in my muscles from racing around all day. Instead of seeing more at-home accidents like we did during the holidays, we were seeing the start of flu season. In a loose pair of sweats and a Navy T-shirt, I wandered back into the kitchen. I placed a few slices of pizza on a plate and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
My favorite recliner called to me. As I settled in to eat and watch the Sandpipers, Espen’s football team, my phone buzzed from my pocket. It had been the first time in years that they’d gotten a Wild Card spot and I’d been excited to watch the game. I set my plate on the table next to the chair before sliding my phone out of my pocket.
The minute I saw the name on the screen, I grabbed the remote and lowered the volume. Why? I didn’t know. It wasn’t like he was going to hear the Sandpipers’ game in the background, and it wasn’t a big deal if he did. Somehow, I knew whatever was in that text message would require a decision to be made. One I wasn’t sure I was ready to make.
Five days had passed since my dinner at the D’Agostinos’ house. The night had started out a mixture of awkward and interesting, to say the least. Devon seemed to clam up every time I was around. I supposed that was my fault. I’d basically turned him down twice already, even if the second time it was implied.
How was I supposed to explain to him why I didn’t want to go out?
I sucked in a breath and opened my phone to read the text.
Devon: What are you doing tomorrow night? Want to come to a Jetties game?
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Normal people would jump at the chance to watch a live hockey game, with an invite from the team’s star. But I wasn’t a normal person. I measured everything by the risk to my peace of mind. Dr. Dawkins wanted me to push myself, except I didn’t think even he would want me to go that far. I avoided loud noises and flashing lights for a reason.
Were they a trigger of mine? Honestly, I had no idea. Nor any intention of finding out. My first therapist had suggested avoiding the well-known triggers from the beginning. Even though I hadn’t stayed with him, that piece of advice had stuck with me. One less thing to worry about, and it gave me the chance to find actual triggers to my PTSD that I’d deal with on a day-to-day basis.
Me: I can’t, but thanks for the invite.
After I hit send, the guilt settled in. Seeing the way Devon acted the few times I’d been around him; I was sure it took a lot of courage for him to ask in the first place. And here I was being the asshole and turning him down every time without any more of an explanation. I pushed the pizza to the side and ripped open the bag of Reese’s Pieces.
Besides Dr. Dawkins, who would give me a hard time for turning Devon down in the first place, there was one person I could call and talk all this through with.
I dialed Madison’s number and waited for her to pick up, hoping she wasn’t working tonight. When the phone connected, I breathed a sigh of relief. The guilt would keep me up all night if I didn’t find a way to deal with it.
“This must be good if you’re calling me during a Sandpipers’ Wild Card game.”
“Well, hello to you too.”
She laughed. “What? It’s the truth. Now give me the gossip.”
“I need your help.”
“Whatever you need, say it and I’ll be there.” Madison and I might mess with each other a shit ton, but we were both there for one another. Any time, any day. Gone was the sarcastic tone she had when she answered the phone, and in its place was my serious, ready-to-fight-off-the-world sister.
“Devon…” I trailed off, not sure how to exactly explain any of this. I’d already told her about him asking me out and turning him down while I’d been home. Then, there was dinner at his parents’ house and tonight’s invitation.
“Oh. Did you decide to go on a date with him?” She tried to hide the excitement in her voice, but if there was one person she couldn’t hide anything from, it was me. Just like I couldn’t hide things from her.
“Not exactly. Last week, Natalie invited me to dinner. I thought it was a post-holiday work dinner, but it turned out to be just me, her husband, her, and Devon.”
“So, she’s trying to set you up?”
“Seemed like it.” I popped some of the candy into my mouth, savoring the peanut buttery flavor.
“Seemed like it? Or was it? Jeez, Linc, you know the difference.”
“Okay, fine, she was trying to set us up.”
“How did that go?” I shook the bag next to the phone. “Ah, so a Reese’s Pieces kind of night. Let’s talk it out then. What’s the problem?”
“Besides me turning him down?”
“Of course. I know you already did that. Except you wouldn’t be calling me if there wasn’t more to the story.”
I ate a few more of the candies. “Devon’s a nice guy. Super shy, but he started to come out of his shell that night at dinner. Then, tonight he asked me if I wanted to go to tomorrow night’s game…”
“And you said no.” It wasn’t a question. She knew what my answer would be. Nothing would get me inside a hockey arena. “Did you suggest something else?”
“No. I only told him I couldn’t go and thanked him for the invite.”
Madison groaned. “You can’t stay celibate forever.”
“I’m not celibate.”
“Eww, I do not want to know about your hookups from an app. You need more than that in your life. You need someone—”
“I don’t need anyone.” I sat straight up in the chair, pushing the footrest down.
“Lincoln, everyone needs someone.”
“Nobody needs to deal with my baggage.”
She blew out a heavy breath. “You call it baggage, but it’s not. It’s part of who you are, and anyone who loves you won’t see it as baggage either. It doesn’t have to be about you using them as a crutch. It can be about having someone to talk things out with, to share the details of your day. What is hiding from the world going to get you?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “Now you sound like Dr. Dawkins.”
“Really? What did he tell you?”
“That I need to stop hiding and open myself up to more in life.”
“Wow, I feel super smart right now.”
“Madison,” I growled. “Not helping.”
“Maybe not. You don’t seem to be listening to him if you’re still telling Devon no. It’s Devon D’Agostino for god’s sake.”
“You know I don’t care about that.”
“I know, but I’ve seen him and he’s hot as hell.”
I chuckled. It wasn’t the first time my sister and I compared notes on hot guys. “He really is.” A few moments passed and the same guilt and fear—yes, I was ready to admit to being afraid—consumed me. “I don’t know how to tell him.”
“About the PTSD?”
“Yeah.”
“Be honest. That’s all you have to be. If he’s really interested, he’ll accept it for what it is, and you can go out on a date. If not, you know that Devon isn’t the right man and can keep looking.”
I didn’t want to tell Madison that I wouldn’t be looking anywhere. The only reason I was considering this were her and Dr. Dawkins’s words running on repeat through my head. I couldn’t keep hiding anymore, even if I was afraid of what the outcome might be. Didn’t mean I was sure about saying yes to a date with Devon. He at least deserved to know why I kept saying no and maybe, if I couldn’t bring myself to date anyone, we could be friends.
“I’m going to call him. I don’t think this is something you tell someone through text.”
“Absolutely, but, Lincoln?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to hear all about your first date.”
A smile pulled at the corner of my lips. “Deal. And thank you for listening.”
“Anytime. You know that.”
And I really did.
I said goodbye to my sister, then stared at my phone for a little while longer, trying to imagine exactly what to say to Devon. When I realized that the perfect words were never going to come, I hit dial and would just let things fall where they may.
It took a few rings before Devon’s smooth tenor came over the line.
“Hello?” he asked hesitantly.
“Hi, Devon. It’s Lincoln.”
“Hi. You… You didn’t have to call. I saw your message. It’s—”
I cut him off before he could continue making excuses for me. “No, I needed to call and explain. I should have told you this the first time you asked me out, and I didn’t because I’m afraid.”
“Afraid?” It was easy to hear the confusion in his voice.
I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning back in the chair. This conversation was never easy to have, but he deserved to know. My pulse raced. “I don’t know how much you’ve heard about my life before I came to work with your mom at the urgent care, but I was in the Navy. A Navy medic stationed overseas.”
“My mom never said anything.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. She knows I’m a really private person. You see—” Sweat slid down my temple. “I have PTSD from my time there.”
“Shit,” he whispered under his breath. “The lights and sounds at the game… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t know and I didn’t tell you.” The tightness in my chest eased a bit. Not completely though. “But I figured you deserved to know why I kept turning you down. I haven’t had a date in more than two years.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’ve been in therapy for the past two years, learning how to deal with my issues.” I drummed my fingers on the arm of the recliner, reminding myself to breathe.
The easy way we spoke at his parents’ house came through slightly. “Okay, so hockey games are out, but does that mean dinner is completely off the table?”
I wanted to give him an answer, I really did. I just couldn’t. My nerves were completely shot from everything I already told him. It may have been only a small confession, but there were very few people I’d admitted that to.
“Can I say I’ll think about it?”
“Of course. If you decide you want to go out, I’ll find a quiet place where we can relax.”
“I appreciate that. Give me a couple of days, this is all so new for me.” It didn’t escape me how accepting he’d been from the first words out of my mouth.
“Take all the time you need. I mean it. I don’t want to pressure you about this. And if you decide you don’t want to, that’s okay too.”
“Thanks, Devon. I’ll talk to you later.”
“‘Night, Lincoln.”
After I disconnected the call, the weight that had been sitting on my chest eased a bit more. I still had to decide about a date with Devon. Not a simple answer. The one thing that made it a little easier was knowing that Devon understood exactly what he was getting by going out with me.
I grabbed the remote and turned the volume back up on the game and reached for the pizza. The bag of Reese’s Pieces was already empty and I needed real food in my stomach. The game played in the background, while all I could think about was Devon.