3. Time To Go Home
3
TIME TO GO HOME
JANUARY
S ummer hurt all over. Her eyes were dry and itchy, as was her throat. She wanted to roll over and sleep more, but someone called her name. There was a male voice that sounded clear, almost as if it was inside her head and a female voice that was soft and distant. There was also a ringing in her ears that wouldn’t stop. She forced her eyes open with a groan.
Her mom sat close, her dad stood behind her, and Griff smiled from the foot of the bed. She glanced at her parents and then stared at her friend. He stood tall and handsome. His hair was clean, and so were his fatigues. He didn’t have a bruise, cut, or blemish on him.
“Griff, you’re okay,” she mumbled.
“I’m fine. It’s you we’re worried about,” he answered.
“Honey?” her mom asked, her voice laced with concern.
“What happened?” Summer asked the room in general.
Her dad answered. “Your convoy was hit. You’re in Germany.”
“Why are you here?” she asked next.
Her parents’ countenances fell .
“Summer,” Griff reprimanded her. “They love you and are here for you. Don’t be rude.”
“I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” Summer reached for her mother’s hand. “I’m just surprised you’re here. It doesn’t look like I was hurt too badly.”
Tears filled her mom’s eyes. “No, thank the Lord for that. But they were concerned about…other things. Do you know how long you’ve been here?”
“Um, no?”
Her dad reached around her mom to rest a hand on Summer’s shoulder. “It’s been two weeks.”
Summer tried to sit up. “What? Have I been in a coma?”
“No,” her mom whispered.
She looked between her parents, occasionally glancing at Griff. “What’s going on?”
“There’s nothing to worry about. Your body is healing well, and you’re more lucid today than you have been,” her dad said.
“What do you mean?”
This time, her mom patted her hand and smiled. “You knew who we were. That’s an improvement.”
Summer turned to her friend. “Griff, what are they talking about?”
“Your brain struggled with what happened. When they told you how many of us didn’t survive, it made things worse. At first, you didn’t talk and would only speak to us. I’m the only one that stayed, so things should be easier now.”
Before Summer could ask what he meant, her mother sighed and said, “Honey, Griff is gone. He didn’t make it.”
“But he’s standing right there.” Summer pointed.
“No, sweetheart, he’s not,” her dad said gently.
“But I see him. Why are you lying?” Summer struggled to the edge of the bed, pulling her IV lines with her. Two nurses entered the room. She directed her next question to them. “Do you see him?”
“No, ma’am,” one answered.
“I’m not crazy,” she yelled. Her feet hit the floor, and she stood on shaky legs. “Griff, tell them. ”
“But they’re right,” he said. “They can’t see me. Only you.”
“Why?” she wailed, and all the strength left her body.
The nurses caught her as she sunk to the floor. They helped her back into the bed, and one gave her a shot of something that felt like ice in her veins.
“This will calm her down. Dr. Mueller will be in to talk to you soon.” The nurse waved the other one out of the room. “Let us know if you need anything.”
“When will they send her home?” her father asked.
“Dr. Mueller will discuss that with you. We need the bed, so she’ll be transferred to base housing this week.”
“Thank you,” her mom replied.
Summer lay in bed and wondered if she was crazy. Griff was right there. She could see him. She could hear him. In fact, she could hear him better than everyone else.
“What’s wrong with my ear?” she asked as she tugged on the left one.
“Ruptured ear drum. It will take a couple of weeks to heal, but eventually, you should be fine.”
“Oh.”
She took an inventory of her body for the first time since waking. One arm was in a cast—how did she miss that—her ribs felt bruised, and her left side was itching like crazy. Otherwise, she wasn’t bad off.
“Why do I itch?” she moved to scratch her left arm, but her mom stopped her.
“That’s the skin grafts for the burns. Don’t scratch. I hate it when they tie your hands to the bed rails,” her mom answered.
Summer’s heart pounded uncomfortably. She had two weeks that she couldn’t remember, a friend talking to her that everyone said wasn’t there, and she’d been tied down. Her breathing quickened, and adrenaline flooded her body, but before she could try to move, the medicine kicked in. Her fight-or-flight instincts fizzled, and she sagged into her pillow. Part of her wanted to do something, but her eyelids fluttered closed.
“Griff,” she mumbled. “Don’t let them tie me up.”
February
“How do you feel?”
“Numb.”
Summer stared at her hands twisting in her lap and willed them to be still. They obeyed but remained clenched together as if they could keep her life from unraveling.
“How do you mean?” The man sitting across from her was in his late forties or early fifties, with a military-short haircut and piercing gray eyes.
At first, he had intimidated her, but over the last month, she realized he had a lot in common with her dad. They were both soft-spoken men who cared enough to speak the truth—like ripping a bandaid off. Although, her dad had been much quieter than she remembered. She hated the concern in her parents' eyes. They hadn’t smiled much in the month she recognized them, and the two missing weeks still bothered her.
She sighed. “I know I should feel something, but I don’t want to.”
“Summer, thank you for your honesty. Most people don’t realize how shutting off emotions is often a choice they make to protect themselves. But do you understand that by not feeling the fear, sadness, and guilt, you also deny yourself the opportunity to feel brave, happy, and confident in your abilities?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Good. Let’s talk about some ways you can open up to emotions again and how you can deal with the ones you find unpleasant.” He continued to talk, and Summer half listened.
She knew he was right, and she’d heard many of his suggestions before. This was a safe topic because of that. She nodded in the appropriate places and glanced at the clock every few minutes.
“Summer,” the therapist said. Our time is almost up for today, but I wanted to revisit your—“ he paused, searching for the right words…connection to Griff.”
“Okay.” This was one of the topics she didn’t want to discuss. She had learned very quickly to pretend he wasn’t always with her.
“Have you seen him lately?” he asked.
“No.” She made the word sound confident, even though she could see her dead friend sitting beside her on the couch out of the corner of her eyes.
Griff laughed. “You’re such a liar, Blakely.”
“Good,” the therapist smiled. “I think you’re ready to go home. You’ll be given an honorable discharge, so you won’t need to stay for the final month of your enlistment.”
Summer’s body stiffened as she went on high alert. She didn’t want to go home. Everyone would stare at the burn scars on her leg and arm. They’d ask what happened and why she didn’t come home sooner. But worse than that, she’d be surrounded by the place she once loved. There were so many memories of who she had been that she’d never be able to ignore.
The anxiety started building. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. Four counts in, hold for four, four counts out.
“Summer, what are you feeling?”
“Scared. I don’t want to go home,” she answered.
“Okay. Tell me three things you see,” he prompted.
“The window, the tree outside the window, and some small brown bird on the tree.”
“Good. Now, tell me three things you feel.”
Summer was used to this exercise, so she knew he meant feel with her body, not her emotions. “The rough fabric on the arm of the chair, my collar scratching at my neck, and there’s a breeze from the AC.”
“Good. Finally, move three body parts to remind yourself that you are in control.”
Summer lifted her arm in the air, wiggled her fingers, and tilted her neck from side to side.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you. ”
“Summer, we can’t keep you any longer. It’s time to rejoin the world, but there are options if you don’t want to go home. What is something else that you could do?”
“I don’t know.”
The man closed his notebook. “Talk to your parents and find something that you are comfortable with. You have options.”
June
Summer spent the next four months traveling all over Europe. Her parents wanted to go home, but she convinced them to let her pay for food, hostels, hotel rooms, and train fares. Summer had sizable savings from all the years of living on the government’s dime while pocketing her pay and signing bonuses. Her dad continued to work remotely for part of every day. The rest of the time, he joined Summer and her mom while they took in the sights and sounds of Germany, France, and Spain before heading north to England, Scotland, and finally Ireland.
It was an unconventional vacation, and Summer knew it was coming to an end. Her parents were restless and complained more and more about using Summer’s savings.
“Summer,” Griff’s voice pulled her to wakefulness.
“You’re not here,” she whispered. Despite her travels and frequent online therapy sessions, Griff’s ghost still woke her every morning.
“Is that any way to talk to a friend?” he laughed.
“What do you want, Griff?” she moaned.
“You know what I want. Stop hiding and go home,” he answered.
Summer slowly opened her eyes. Sometimes, Griff stood next to her bed, tall, strong, and handsome in his fatigues the way he’d always been. But other times, she saw his charred and broken body. Both hurt in different ways.
“I’m not hiding. I’m exploring the world,” she said, grateful to see his healthy form this morning.
His presence didn’t make sense. The doctors tried to convince her Griff had died instantly in the explosion. According to them, she couldn’t have had a conversation with him because of her hearing loss from the explosion. Summer refused to believe them. The memory was too vivid for her to have imagined it.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” she asked .
Griff crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles of his arms flexing. “I can’t leave until you’re whole again. You can only do that in Sugar Creek. With him.”
“You’re just my subconscious finding a voice through a memory.” At least, that’s what her therapist insisted.
“Another reason to listen to me. I’m right. You’re right. Go home, Summer,” he sounded like a broken record.
“Summer,” her mother called as she cracked the door open. They had splurged on hotel rooms at this stop in Dublin. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.” Summer sat up and rubbed the rest of the sleep from her eyes.
Their rooms connected, but otherwise, they weren’t anything special because her parents wouldn’t let her book a nicer one. The walls might have been blue or green at one time, but now they more closely resembled dirty water with a touch of dye. The bed was pushed up against one wall, without a head or footboard, and there was one small nightstand with a lamp. The best part of the room was the windows that opened onto the lively street below. Summer breezes ruffled the curtains. There was one mirror in her small ensuite bathroom that she did her best not to look into.
She hated what she saw in the reflection. Her black hair had been cut short because half had been burned. A scar peeked out of her hairline from a shrapnel cut, but otherwise, her face wasn’t damaged. The burn scars could have been worse, as she remembered how Griff had looked. Summer only had a bit of wrinkled skin along her left arm, side, hip, and leg from where the explosion had burned through her protective gear. The doctors had meticulously cleaned and tended to skin graft patches in the worst spots. So now she also sported sections of pale skin that didn’t look natural.
“We’re heading down for breakfast,” her mom said.
She knew her parents missed Sugar Creek and their friends, but they wouldn’t leave her. Maybe it was time to return for their sake. Plus, no matter how much she wished, she couldn’t put it off forever.
“I’m not hungry,” Summer murmured as she swung her legs off the edge of the bed .
“Why don’t you shower? Maybe you’ll be hungry after.” Her mother sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through Summer’s hair, which had grown almost to her chin since Christmas. “How do you feel this morning?”
“I’m fine.” Summer hoped if she repeated those words enough, everyone would stop asking her. Perhaps one day, she’d even mean it.
“What would you like to do today?” her mom pressed.
Summer sighed. Now was as good a moment as ever to take another step forward. “We should book tickets to Vermont.”
Her mom stilled. Finally, she found her voice. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve kept you away long enough. Let’s go home.”
“Sweetheart.” Her mom hugged her close. “We’ll be with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. You know that, right?”
Summer nodded. She had never felt so close to her parents as she did now. Part of her recovery during the last few months had been extensive counseling alone and with them. During that process, she had revealed the worst nightmares from her past. Sharing those dark days with them had been hard, but seeing how they drew closer, held her tighter, and always told her how strong she was had helped her believe they still loved her.
Summer had avoided her hometown for many reasons, and not all of them had been tied to Brandon. Sure, she hadn’t wanted him to see the dark place she’d gone to in her mind, but she also didn’t want the people she loved in town to see it either. Some would have pushed until she broke down and told her secrets. Then, they would have treated her differently. Her parents assured her that she didn’t have to tell anyone in Sugar Creek about it if she didn’t want to. It had been years, and everyone would think her time in the Army had changed her, not that summer trip.
They thought she should tell Brandon, though. They were confident he wouldn’t hold ‘the incident,’ as they’d dubbed it, against her and would still love her the way he had in high school. She didn’t believe that, but she realized telling him might be the only way they could find closure and move on .
“Together, Blakely,” Griff smirked and pointed a finger at her. “You have to move on together.”
Summer rolled her eyes.
“What was that for?” her mom asked.
“Nothing.” Summer had to work hard not to let anyone know she still talked to Griff. After a month of therapy, she convinced the shrink that his ghost had stopped appearing to her because she didn’t want anyone to think she was crazy. Maybe she was, but it wasn’t anyone’s business but hers. “I’ll take that shower now.”
“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs.”
The moment Summer stepped off the plane in Burlington, hope flickered to life deep in her chest. She was nervous about how everyone would look at her, but her bones, muscles, lungs, and heart recognized home—they always did—and she was here to stay this time.
That made her nervous. Would she be able to settle into life here? How would people treat her, and most importantly, would she be able to accept that life would be different? She had idealized her teen years over the last decade, and Summer wasn’t sure she could face those memories head-on and realize they didn’t belong on the pedestal she’d placed them.
She sighed as they left the airport and headed for the parking lot. A light breeze tempered the warm June air enveloping her. How she’d missed the pleasant Vermont summer while she baked in Afghanistan. This was how it was supposed to feel.
“How are we getting home?” Summer asked her dad.
“A friend dropped off the car yesterday,” he answered. He pulled up his phone and, after checking something, headed for the parking garage. “It’s on the first level near the number two pylon.”
“You have keys?” Summer asked.
Her mom dug around in her purse, pulled out keys on a sparkly pompom keychain, and dangled them in the air. “I have mine. I was terrified I’d lose them before we got home.”
“Who has Dad’s keys?” She didn’t know why it was important, but it bothered her not to know all the details.
“That’s because your job and your life revolved around knowing everything you could,” Griff said as he walked beside her. “You need to be in control.”
Summer had hoped her imaginary friend would disappear once she arrived home.
“You know you’ll miss me when I’m gone,” he laughed .
Yeah, she would, but this wasn’t normal. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. It was so hard not to speak to him out loud.
Instead, she thought, I’d rather have the real you instead of this ghost that won’t let me alone .
“Real me was a pain, too. Admit it.”
“Yep,” Summer muttered.
“What’s that, dear?” her mom asked.
“Nothing.” Summer reached for her mom’s carry-on. “Let me help with your suitcase.”
“I’ve got it. You have enough with that huge duffle of yours.” Her mom slapped her hand away.
“I should have left all of this behind.”
“We’ll go shopping,” her mother squealed. “I bet your sisters will come home for that.”
“Will they be there today?” Summer asked.
“Sadly, no.” Her dad shook his head. “They’ll try and come this weekend. Hunter might join them.”
“Not if shopping is on the schedule.” The thought made Summer smile.
“Oh, there’s the car,” her mom chirped and pointed.
After squeezing all their bags into the trunk of her dad’s small car, they drove quietly to Sugar Creek. Summer allowed herself to enjoy the beautiful landscape as they left Burlington and headed south. The sky was blue with gloriously fluffy clouds. Trees in their summer green lined the sides of the road except for when they opened to reveal rolling hills and fields. She’d catch glimpses of Lake Champlain occasionally, and mountains rose in the distance. Her eye zeroed in on Mt. Ambrose. She was almost home.
“Everyone will be happy to see you,” her mom gushed from the front seat. “I’ve updated the pastor every week, and he’s had everyone praying for you since we got word of your accident.”
Summer cringed. Accident didn’t feel like the right word, but what else could her parents call it? She understood they needed to downsize the event’s intensity in their minds. It helped that they didn’t know anyone who died that night. Sure, they’d said hi to Griff, but they hadn’t really known him. Sometimes, Summer wished she hadn’t made it either. Survivor’s guilt was no joke. The fact the whole town knew about it was even worse.
“Give yourself a break, pretty girl.” Griff appeared in the seat next to her about the same time they entered the city limits of Sugar Creek. He was dressed in desert fatigues, and Summer thought she caught a whiff of smoke. “None of us begrudge you making it out alive. Do you hate Peterson, Dewitt, or Lewis for living?”
Of course not , she thought. Those were the three soldiers in other vehicles that had been hit and managed to survive.
“There you go.” Griff smiled.
Summer rolled her eyes. They passed the dock and restaurant by Lake Champlain before taking a left and heading toward the square. There was something peaceful about the rows of clapboard houses lining the streets, their summer landscaping in full bloom. Summer had always loved flowers, and the green of all the trees still made her happy. Nothing had been this beautiful during her last deployment.
She glanced at Griff from the corner of her eye. Why was he still with her? Are you haunting the others as well ?
“No need. They went home to their families months ago. Dewitt’s getting married.”
Summer filed that away and made a mental note to contact Dewitt to see if he was really getting married. If so, maybe she was being haunted instead of just going crazy.
“You’re not crazy.” Griff chuckled. Then he continued, “This town is just as cute as you said it would be.”
Summer smiled. Yeah, Sugar Creek was the quintessential small-town movie set. The square had a mix of brick and clapboard buildings, but they were all quaint and often decorated for each holiday. Currently, the shops were geared up for the Fourth of July in a couple of weeks. Red, white, and blue buntings hung from display windows, shop owners had painted fireworks on windows and signs, and the square was decked out with flags waving in the breeze.
What stuck out the most was the people strolling along the sidewalks. School was out, so there was a good mix of young and old. Clusters of people chatted around bistro tables at one or two cafes, and others gathered at benches. Kids splashed water at each other from the large fountain in the middle of the square. She even saw two teenage boys zip across on their skateboards even though they were prohibited downtown. Everyone looked happy and without a care in the world. When had she last felt that free? She’d kept her guard up even while traveling.
“Hang in there, Summer,” Griff spoke softly beside her. “You’ll get through this, but you can’t do it alone.”
She nodded and hoped he was right.
“Did you see the signs for the summer carnival?” her dad asked as they passed the square.
She glanced behind to see a banner stretched across Main Street. The words were printed on both sides, which was a mistake since the sun currently shone through, making the words hard to read. Technically, she had now seen it, so she replied, “Yes. When is it?”
“First week of August, as always,” her mother answered.
They left the crowds behind and made several turns until they reached her parents' neighborhood. Her mom gasped as they neared the house.
“What is it?” Summer asked.
“Oh, David. Look at it,” her mother sighed.
“That says it all, doesn’t it?” her father replied.
“It sure does.”
Summer leaned forward in her seat to see what they were talking about.