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I close my eyes, breathing deeply, willing myself to relax. I’m safe now. No one can hurt me.
“Has she always fired her gun?”
“Not at first. It’s gotten a lot more intense lately, though.” She glances worriedly at me. “Sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. I want you to tell her. You see what I do when I’m at my worst, so if I need to be committed to protect Mark, let’s do it.”
Linda gives me a questioning glance. “I remember we discussed your friendship with Mark in prior sessions. Why would he need protection?”
“Because he’s living with me. He was badly injured in Afghanistan and just got out of the hospital a few days ago. I had an episode my first night back, and he overheard me. When he came to check on me, I nearly shot him in the head.” My eyes fill with tears. “That’s why I’m here. I’d never forgive myself if –” My throat tightens in fear.
Lila squeezes my hand, and it helps me find my voice. “We talked about it afterwards, and he suggested I give my gun to him at night and let him keep watch so I can feel safe. He insists he sleeps fine in the daytime. It’s only been two nights, but I think it’s helping. I’ve had the dreams, but when they start, he talks to me, and both times, it’s stopped them.”
She turns to Lila, her expression pensive. “Do her episodes often occur at the same time?”
Lila nods. “Almost always between three-thirty and four. Once in a while it starts earlier if she’s had a bad day or she’s more stressed than usual.”
Linda shifts her attention back to me. “I’d like to try a two-step approach to break your cycle of night terrors. First, I’d like to prescribe something to help you sleep. The second thing I want to try is called ‘anticipatory awakening’. Essentially, we disrupt your sleep pattern by waking you up for a few minutes shortly before you’d normally experience the nightmares. Have Mark wake you around three o’clock. You need to be awake enough to talk to him for a few minutes. Sit up and have a glass of water or walk around. Engage your mind. After that, lie back down. The sleeping tablet should let you fall back asleep, but because we’ve reset your internal clock, we can hopefully stave off the nightmares.”
I stare. “You don't think I need to be committed?” Beside me, Lila huffs in exasperation.
Linda chuckles, her laughter as rich as her voice. “No, Charlie, you don’t need to be committed. I don’t believe you’re likely to hurt yourself or anyone else.”
My eyes widen as my voice rises an octave. “Weren’t you listening? I almost shot Mark in the head. How am I not a danger to everyone around me?”
Linda’s tone turns serious. “You aren’t a danger because you recognized the potential for a bad outcome and took steps to prevent that. You chose to relinquish your weapon and embrace vulnerability to protect Mark.”
I frown. “‘Embracing vulnerability’ is an overstatement. I’m not embracing it, but I won’t risk Mark’s safety.”
“Fine,” she agrees, “embracing may be overstating things, but you’re intentionally choosing to be vulnerable at a deeply personal cost. That speaks volumes. You’re prioritizing his safety over your feelings of security.”
I study her dubiously. “You’re sure?”
She smiles again. “I’m positive. You don’t need to be committed. We just need to help you work through your trauma. You’re a strong woman, Charlie. You can face this.”
Lila and Linda are sincere when they tell me I’m strong.
I just wish I were half as strong as everyone says I am.
MARK
Charlie and I settle into a comfortable routine over the next couple of weeks. Every morning, her alarm goes off and I put down whatever I’m doing to say good morning. She goes upstairs and brushes her teeth while I start the coffee. We eat breakfast together, and then she goes to work and I sleep until one or one thirty.
Every weekday at three, I go to the clinic and work with Tom for an hour, strengthening my body in preparation for osseointegration surgery. I follow PT with a soak in the whirlpool and an upper body massage. After that, I tackle more exercise. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Lila and I do Pilates in the living room. Lila banished Tucker from watching our sessions unless he’s an active participant because he made fun of the poses. After the first week, I was convinced she was torturing me just to prove that they weren’t “wimpy girl workouts”. They’re every bit as taxing as anything I do with Tucker and Tom, focusing on muscle groups I’m unaccustomed to working. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I do strength training with the guys. The combination is effective. I’m rebuilding muscle and getting stronger faster than I expected.
I can’t wait to have this surgery so I can look normal again.
Working out with Tucker and Tom at the house is fun and challenging. When Tucker’s exercises need to be modified for my injuries, Tom adapts them to work with my body instead of against it. I really like Tom. He’s not military, but he’d have done well in the service. He’s a natural leader and a genuinely nice guy, coaching boxing at a center for disadvantaged youth and fostering dogs for the local animal rescue.
While we work out, Lila and Charlie chat and make dinner. Some days, Maya comes over after school, and she and Tom join us for dinner. Maya’s astonishingly outgoing and comfortable around adults for someone so young. I was initially nervous around her, worried she’d be freaked out by my leg. Maya proved Lila’s right – I know absolutely nothing about women, young or old. My missing leg didn’t make the least bit of difference to her. I found this out when she told me all about Eddie, her three-legged cat.
“He lost a leg, and he’s fine. You’ll be fine, too,” she said, her springy curls bouncing as she nodded. Then she’d grinned. “If you want, we can let Bella chase you to build up your speed. It did wonders for Eddie.” Lila and Charlie dissolved in giggles at the image of me racing on my crutches to escape an overgrown, slobbering puppy.
Dinners when we’re all together are always an event. Lila’s an incredible cook whose love language is food. When it’s just Charlie and me, we keep it low key. She’s a good cook, and I can hold my own, but we stick to simple meals with enough leftovers for lunch the following day. We spend every evening together. We cook together (unless it’s a Lila day), clean up together, watch movies and have snacks together, even fold laundry together. Even bedtime has a routine. Charlie showers upstairs and hands over her gun when she returns. After her mirror massage magic, she goes to sleep with her back against my side. It’s very domestic, and I enjoy it more than I’d ever thought possible.
Our arrangement seems to be benefiting both of us. My phantom pains have diminished considerably, and her nightmares have gotten better. I’ve started doing as her psychiatrist suggested and waking her up a little after three. She gets out of bed, drinks a glass of water, and talks with me about random things for a couple of minutes before going back to sleep. Occasionally her nightmares start earlier, but now I know what to watch for – twitching, fluttering eye movements, or upper body spasms. If that starts, I speak to her in a low voice, saying the same things over and over: “I’m here, Baby Girl. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Once the tension leaves her body, I’ll stroke her hair until she falls back to sleep.
This arrangement is working out better than either of us anticipated. She’s keeping my phantom pain at bay, and I’m staving off her night terrors. I’m so glad I have Charlie. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
