Chapter Two
Lemons, Not Grenades
Sammy
I ran my thumb over the ridge of the ancient picture frame. It had survived the nineties, all of our reassignments, and my parents’ divorce. I smiled at my own stupid sentimental ways. They’d been divorced for a few years now, so why did I lug that picture around?
In my heart, I knew why.
It was my only really vivid happy memory from childhood. I wasn’t a person riddled with trauma. It wasn’t so much that things happened to me, but rather around me. My father was in the military when I was growing up. He had been since before he and my mother married. He enlisted, married her, and rushed off to basic. In that order, and just that fast.
It was the tune of their marriage and my youth. We moved constantly. My father was often deployed, and when he was home it was only long enough for them to fight until one of them threatened to leave. They’d spend the last few days in bed together making up, and she’d have news for him a few months later.
Every. Damn. Time.
We were a family of seven once, for the love of God.
Who can afford that? I’m not talking about financially, I mean mentally, as an army wife. I realized not all army wives had the experience she did and sighed.
I set the picture down, my gaze lingering on little Ruby until my eyes misted and burned with the threat of tears. She’d touched us all with her arrival, and two years later, her loss had shattered us as a family.
Two years. That was all that we were sisters. It was crazy to even contemplate, considering how bad her drowning still hurt.
Two years and three weeks.
I shouldn’t even know the exact number of days she was given on this Earth; I was only nine at the time.
And yet, we all knew it.
Everyone.
The neighbors. The funeral home staff. And, most especially, the police that came every time our parents fought in the years that followed. They were all aware of that number, too.
They screamed it at each other, mid-argument regularly. It meant everything, and nothing. A blow. An accusation. A means of shock and awe that took the dispute to a whole new level. One that could be felt, even if it was etched in silence.
Man, I didn’t miss home.
I missed my brothers. I missed mom and dad, too, individually, not together! The military had been my saving grace. It allowed me a fresh start without all that tension. A place to breathe where no one knew that my family was haunted by a two-year-old, or that my father was the president of a one percenter motorcycle club.
The club’s shadow was heavier and thicker than the grief and their marriage combined. It left me isolated. Guys my age were afraid of me, since the club made sure everyone knew– hands off Ziggy’s daughter.
My phone rang, ripping me away from my somber thoughts. I recognized the number to Medical and swiped for the green. I was expecting my test results, and didn’t figure it would take more than a moment for them to say, “See you next year.”
“Is this Sergeant Samantha Nash?” a somber voice on the other end asked.
“It is,” I confirmed.”
“Great, this is Kayla with Medical. Your results are back. It looks like you’re positive for squamous cell.”
“Squamous cell,” I repeated, a question hanging in my tone.
“Yes. HPV.”
My eyes bugged as I tried to recall what the letters stood for.
“You’ll need to come back on Tuesday for a follow up and scheduling. In the meanwhile, I’ll find out if the doctor wants you to come in and provide a list of your past partners at your convenience.”
“Uh,” I closed my eyes as my cheeks heated.
There was no way in hell I was going to march into Medical to discuss my body count.
“No.” I cleared my throat.
“I’m sorry?” She sounded surprised.
“Ah… There is no need for all of that. I’ve only had one partner, ever.”
“Oh.” The surprise seemed to stretch.
“Yeah. His name is Bill Parker, Corporal Bill Parker.”
“That’s unfortunate,” she murmured, so low I wasn’t sure I heard her.
“What?”
“I said, the doctor will see you on Tuesday then. Give us a call back if you have any further questions or needs. We’ll see you then, okay?”
All I could do was blink and stare at the phone when she hung up before I could answer.
Call ended, it read.
“No shit.” I set the phone down and groaned as I glanced back at the picture of my family.
I’d considered telling them about Bill on my next visit. We’d only slept together once, before he went to his sixteen-week training, so I wasn’t sure if it was serious enough or the right time. We’d been seeing each other for a while before that, and he called regularly since he’d been gone, so the idea had been floating around more recently.
I couldn’t even wrap my head around what had just happened. I sat down and stressed over whether it would take me off duty, or what it would mean if I needed excessive treatment. I didn’t even know how someone treated a thing like HPV.
I swiped on the Google icon, but before it could load, Bill’s name flashed across the screen and the phone vibrated in my hand.
I sucked my teeth, unsure if I wanted to answer it or not. I didn’t know how to talk about something like that, let alone over the phone.
I swiped it green, and he roared long before I got the phone to my ear.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Wh–?” The word died in my mouth.
“You gave my name to Medical? Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Wh– what the fuck was I supposed to do, Parker?”
“I don’t know. Not tell the clinic where my wife is a nurse that you gave me some shit!”
I nearly choked on my own breath. So many things collided on the tip of my tongue that I couldn’t spit any of them out!
Wife?
Fucking wife!?
Gave him some shit?
I gave him my virginity!
“Congratulations, dumb ass. She’s taking us both for formal fraternizing charges. She’s divorcing me and setting fire to both our military careers. We’re fuckin’ done.”
Tears stung my eyes and I have no idea how I managed to hurl the question past the lump in my throat, but I squeaked out, “Me? You never said you were married, asshole!”
“Well, as I said– I’m not going to be for much longer. Thanks.”
He hung up on me, and I flinched like I’d been slapped.