Chapter 39
THE REQUEST
ZEKE
Whittenburg scowled as he looked out into what was affectionately known as the Sink Bowl, or rather the open office area where soldiers in my unit gathered and tried to be productive.
After Maggie’s incident a few months ago and the resulting doctor’s appointments that followed, I’d been remanded to desk duty, essentially working in a role similar to that of an administrative assistant for the entire chain of command.
It was dull work, mostly busybody stuff to keep me doing something, but I didn’t mind.
Taking care of Maggie mattered more than the Army’s mission.
I already knew from Whittenburg’s face as he searched through the motley crew assorted in the office that he wanted to see me.
Emails from General Leggett became more and more frequent as time went on, and the more I steadfastly ignored them, the more he directed them to Whittenburg rather than myself.
It was only a matter of time before Leggett took things one step further.
“Hayes!” the staff sergeant snapped. “Where the hell are you?”
It would only get worse the longer I held off. I popped up from my makeshift desk in the corner and waved. “Right here, sir.”
“My office-NOW!”
“Yes, sir!”
I scurried into his office and automatically shut the door behind me, keeping my head down.
So far I’d been more focused on Maggie than anything else and I barely knew the soldiers in my unit.
Learning that I had a one star general back Stateside who dictated my entire career wouldn’t exactly earn their respect, and it was unlikely that Whittenburg had anything positive to say.
I finally had Army leadership who wanted to move me along in my career simply because they believed in professional development, yet I sat at a desk and barely did any work.
Leggett would hardly let that go unnoticed.
“Care to tell me why I received a phone call at four o’clock this morning from General Leggett, Sergeant?” Whittenburg leaned back and bobbed in his office chair, gazing at me sternly from behind his desk.
“I will reply to the general’s inquiries in due time,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even. The last thing I needed was a permanent counseling on my record about insubordination because Whittenburg thought I yelled at him.
“No, Hayes, you will reply to them right now!” barked the staff sergeant. “I haven’t had the honor of meeting General Leggett, but I’ll be damned if this is the impression I give him! You’re making our entire unit look bad.”
I nodded. My back stayed ramrod straight and I kept my gaze focused on the bookshelf above his left shoulder. “Yes, sir. I’ll go out to my desk now.”
Whittenburg grunted his dismissal.
All of Leggett’s emails contained chastisements that let me know as soon as I accepted accountability for my actions, he would authorize another reassignment back to the United States.
Leggett anticipated his own orders to come soon for Washington, D.C.
and he wanted me to follow. He seemed to think I would jump at the opportunity to work so closely with him.
The truth was I hadn’t answered because I found the anonymity to be refreshing.
This was the first time I had any real distance from him and his influence, and I kind of liked being in charge of my own fate.
Yes, the Army still owned me and determined what I did and when, but I no longer felt like I had to run interference between Leggett’s orders and my chain of command’s.
I could simply be another cog in the machine without a spotlight to keep me in line. The Army wasn’t so bad like this.
Plus, I had no desire to move now that Maggie finally received the treatment she needed.
Ever since that night I’d beaten myself up over all the signs that I now saw clear as day about her eating disorder.
I should’ve helped her sooner. I should’ve made her see herself the way I did, with all the beauty and laughter and goodness she had to offer.
It was like I let her down at the first real test of our marriage, and I wasn’t the kind of guy who accepted failure so easily.
Maggie would get better or I would die trying to make her.
My therapist, an older veteran named Chuck, frequently told me that I had obsessive-compulsive tendencies when it came to Maggie. That was about as much progress as we had made since our first session.
Dear General,
Everything is fine here at Humphreys. My wife and I have assimilated well into the unit and the community at large. Good luck with your relocation to the Capitol.
Sincerely,
Sgt. Hayes
Short and simple. Direct, leaving little room for interpretation. Nothing Leggett could manipulate into holding against me, yet respectfully removed enough to maintain distance. I sent it off before I could second guess the decision and returned to my work.
Ever since Maggie left the hospital, I had worked through my lunch hour so that I could leave earlier in the day. I tried to text her periodically, keeping the messages light and fun, but also checking in. That was the only way to maintain my own sanity.
Watching the doctors in the emergency room assess her, discussing the possibility of hospitalizing her at a treatment facility, broke something inside of me.
I hadn’t felt well since then. Any time I closed my eyes, I re-lived the moment I found Maggie on the floor in the bathroom, and all the panic came rushing back.
We both carefully danced around the subject when we were at home.
Maggie tried to eat something every night when I cooked dinner, but it was fairly obvious that she found my hovering afterwards to be an annoyance.
After learning how she forced herself to throw up, I didn’t trust Maggie to keep food down, though.
We would then spend the rest of the evening in some sort of silent standoff where we each pretended the other didn’t spy on our every move.
Maggie looked for any opportunity to escape to the bathroom unencumbered and I tried to stop from so much as blinking in case she hurt herself again by purging.
By early afternoon I managed to exhaust everything on the to-do list from my superiors and Whittenburg said I could head out for the day.
I stopped at the commissary to grab Maggie a bouquet of flowers.
She probably saw it as a bribe, but I only meant to thank her for committing to therapy.
I made sure that there was a fresh bouquet after every session.
Maggie sat on the couch with a laptop balanced on her lap. She flashed me a wane smile when she spotted the lilies in my hand.
“You don’t have to keep doing that, Zeke,” she said. “I promised you I’d go to therapy and I meant it.”
“I believe you.” It came out as a reflex, though I meant it wholeheartedly. But I longed for us to return to the happiness we had before. Everything between us felt strained now.
Maggie stood and took the flowers from my hand, heading into the kitchen to replace the slightly wilted bouquet of daisies from a few days prior. “I’m serious. I know I scared you and I’m really sorry.”
I nodded, unsure of what to do. This was always the point of the conversation where one of us would suggest a mundane activity like watching a movie or working on a puzzle until dinner time. “So…how did therapy go?”
“Good, I guess. Barb says we’re making progress, whatever that means.” Maggie offered me a cautious smile. “And I managed to eat everything you left me for lunch today. It’s the first time I’ve done that.”
Beaming, I pulled her to my chest for a hug. “That’s so great! I’m proud of you!”
“Yeah. Me, too,” Maggie said sadly.
We stood like that, chest to chest, arms entwined around each other’s waists for several breaths. Hope filtered through the cracks of my heart. This almost seemed like the old version of us and I didn’t want to jinx it.
“So Barb made a request,” Maggie finally whispered. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel the tension in her body as she held her breath. “She wants to do a few couple’s sessions with us.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t considered couple’s therapy since we still didn’t seem like much of a married couple.
We maintained our separate bedrooms and our distance.
This was the most I’d touched her since the day Maggie came home from the hospital.
The beast that used to roar at claiming my Shiny Girl had long since hibernated.
After several long moments, Maggie peeked up at me. “What do you think? Are you willing to go?”
“I’ll do anything for you, Trouble.” It took all my effort to keep my voice light and carefree.
I didn’t want to admit that I barely thought of her as my wife now.
Somehow in the course of the past three months I turned into Maggie’s keeper rather than spouse.
And she gave me no indication that I should hope for it to change. “Whatever you need.”