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Jared
Idon’t work Saturdays, instead spending the time with my son, but I left my phone in my desk drawer, so I have to head in to grab it before we go to the park. Despite being early, the air is already hot today, so I pack his hat to keep the sun off his head.
Cooper sits in the back in his car seat, singing out of tune to himself, and I can’t help but smile. The kid is tone-deaf and he’s making my ears bleed, but I still find it adorable.
I stop at the lights as traffic backs up and peek up at him in the mirror. This kid is my world, and everything about him makes me want to be a better person, the perfect dad. I have no idea if I achieve this, but I do my best to be Mom and Dad rolled into one because I’m all he has.
A car suddenly backfires and I jolt in my seat. Fuck. My mind clouds as I’m transported back to the sandbox. Noises assault me, the sound of gunfire fills my head and the smell of blood is strong in my nose.
Not now. Not here. I shake myself and try to come out of this waking hell. It’s been a while since I last had a flashback, so long I thought I was done with this shit, but as my heart rate picks up speed, I’m not sure this one is going to let go of me easily.
My chest heaves as I’m hit with wave after wave of visual and mental torture. I can feel the steering wheel beneath my hands, so I know it’s not real, but breaking through the hell I’m seeing is not easy.
Fuck.
I need to come back to the present and I need to do it now, for my son.
It’s this thought that has my hellish waking nightmare diminishing.
Beeping fills my awareness as the memories start to fade, as reality starts to come back to me.
Then a small voice saying, “Daddy?” brings me fully back into the present.
I ignore the car horns and the fact drivers are maneuvering around my stationary vehicle to go through the now green traffic light. I just focus on my son in the rear-view mirror. Even as little as he is, he knows something is wrong.
I shake myself internally and force a smile.
“It’s okay, kiddo.”
I don’t know if I’m saying that to appease him or myself, but it works enough to get me moving. I hit my turn signal and carefully move through the crossing, turning onto the smaller street that leads to the garage.
When I pull into the garage’s parking lot, my heart rate is almost at normal levels, and my attention is snared by the small crowd of people outside the antiques store. It’s Nia’s big opening today. Right. I forgot about that.
I pull into a space near the workshop and Beanie comes out to meet us. He wipes his hands on a rag as he approaches the car, his coveralls stained with engine oil.
“What’s up?” he asks as I climb out of the vehicle. He double-takes and his brow draws together. “You okay, boss?”
I groan. “Don’t call me that, jackass.” I don’t want to get into the fact I had a flashback with him—we all have our own demons from our time in the Army—so I ignore the question.
Beanie lets it go, thankfully.
“You’re the boss, J-Dog. What else would I call you?” He grins at me and relief floods me that we’re not going to be forced into a heart-to-heart chat.
“Asshole,” I mutter. He knows how much titles annoy me. After leaving the Army, I thought I’d left all that behind, but Bean knows how to get under my skin.
He doesn’t care. He’s already pulled the back door open and is greeting my kid like a long-lost buddy.
“Hey, C-man, how’s it hanging?”
Cooper giggles. “You’re all dirty, Uncle Beanie.”
“I’m working on an engine, little man. Maybe we should put you to work.”
He giggles again. “We’re going to the park.”
“Nice. Maybe next time, huh?”
“Maybes.”
