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Hearing the gentle waves rolling ashore in the distance, a relaxing breath escapes me. I pull Taylor snugly under my arm, enjoying the rare moment of closeness we get to share while we’re both home for a short leave.
I remember the day we met and smile knowing it’ll forever be etched in my brain. This woman had some serious attitude, and was on a mission to prove herself amongst the all-male team she is now a part of; a team working alongside my own on one of many top secret missions we’d work together on in the years to come.
My fiancé leans forward, looking at me. “What are you smiling about?”
Kissing the top of her head I squeeze her saying, “You.”
“What’d I do?”
Chuckling when she squints, I admit, “I was thinking about our first meeting, you know…when you tried to put me in my place.”
“What do you mean tried? As I recall, your teammates razzed you to no end once I left.”
“Okay, okay, let’s just say we put each other in our places and leave it at that.” She elbows me as we bust out laughing.
Having ‘Type A’ personalities, it was inevitable that we’d clash, and we most definitely did. Little did we know our pig-headedness would force us closer together instead of pushing us apart.
After our commanding officers made us work scenarios together to keep us from arguing, one thing led to another and we couldn’t imagine our lives without each other.
Once our daughter, Emilee, was born a few years later, Taylor requested to be reassigned to another team. She wanted more time in the United States to be a bigger part of our little girl’s life, especially with me frequently getting deployed overseas at a moment’s notice.
It meant a lot to her to try and give our girl as normal a life as possible in between top secret missions and on the job training while in the Navy.
Taylor struggles at times since she no longer has her family around to make memories with. Her grandparents died one year apart before I met her, and three years before our daughter was born, her parents died in a multi-vehicle crash during a bad snow storm. Being close to each of them, she had a hard time managing so much grief in a short time.
When Emilee was eleven, she started acting out in school causing added stress for my parents. Taylor said it was time to change careers to give our daughter stability and to take pressure off mom and dad.
Putting feelers out for a job in neighboring communities, she was offered, and happily accepted, an investigative position with the State Attorney’s Office. She couldn’t wait to have a regular mother-daughter relationship with Em without being pulled away at the drop of a hat.
“So why did you agree to do one last mission before coming home for good?” I ask
her. “You know Emilee can hardly contain her excitement about having her mom in Bliss Cay full-time, not to mention how thrilled my family is.”
Settling against my chest, the regret in her words is obvious. “They all but guilted me into it. I was reminded of how some of their missions were put on hold since they’re short staffed, and if we can’t pull this one off next week, some bad things are going to happen. When I explained that my new job starts in a few weeks, they assured me it’ll be a short trip.”
As her hand caresses my chest, I grin. “It better be. I think our daughter told the entire staff at school you’re moving back. Practically everyone I’ve seen the last few days said they’re happy for her to have you home again.”
“That sounds like our girl,” she beams. I kiss her beautiful lips savoring our time together, knowing I’ll be leaving tomorrow to prepare for my next mission.
“I’m really excited about this new chapter in our lives, Tay. My plan is to take leave more often so we can make more memories as a family before our daughter thinks it’s not cool to spend time with her parents anymore.”
She giggles while placing her head against my shoulder and admitting, “There’s nothing I’d like more, babe.”
Resting my head on hers, I close my eyes when gunshots ring out. I reach for Taylor to pull her onto the ground and out of harm’s way but all too suddenly—she’s gone. Stretching my arms as far as they’ll go to find her, I realize I’m not on the porch anymore, but lying next to the bed in our room with blood covering my hands.
“Noooo!” I yell out, the word vibrating through me as if in slow motion. Hearing the bedroom door open, I scurry onto my knees to the side table and search for my weapon. I have to protect her, I have to protect Taylor!
But before I can find it, the light comes on and I hear my little girl say, “Dad, what’s wro
ng? Are you okay?”
“No—” As my head swings back and forth, the cobwebs clear and everything begins to make sense. “Yes, I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. I’m okay. Go get ready for school.”
With her eyes wide, she’s looking at my hand inside the drawer where I used to keep my firearm. “You had the same nightmare, didn’t you? You can’t keep doing this to us, dad!” She turns and runs to her room, slamming the door.
I run after her but the door is locked. “Don’t be ridiculous Em. Please open the door so we can talk.”
“You’re having nightmares again, aren’t you?” She yells through the door. “You need to go back to the therapist.”
“Honey, you need to open the door so we can talk. You have nothing to be afraid of, the gun is locked up in the safe, remember? I keep it there since I retired.”
As I make breakfast, Em stomps into the kitchen as Ariel, Emilee’s dog, trots next to her. She sees me and her entire hind end starts wagging, clearly unable to contain her excitement.
Squatting, I rustle her fur. “Well, good morning to you too.”
My daughter hardly speaks even when I try talking to her during breakfast, and her attitude doesn’t get any better on the short drive to my parent’s house.
When I turn the truck off, she jumps out and slams the door. Releasing a huge sigh, I get out and follow her into the house where I see mom hugging her before Em disappears into the living room.
“It looks like your morning isn’t starting out well?” Mom asks as I follow her into the kitchen.
I pace around the island. “If that girl keeps this up, she’s gonna be grounded for the rest of her life!” I vent, raking my fingers through my freshly cut hair.
“Son, you need to give her time to adjust,” mom reasons as her eyes follow me around the room. “Emilee’s not used to having you around all the time. It’s going to take a while for you two to figure things out so you don’t push each other’s buttons all the time.”
Pfft. “I’m not sure I have that much time left.”
“Oh, she’s just blowing off steam. You of all people know she still struggles with what happened to her mom and then you. Try putting yourself in Emmy’s shoes. That sweet girl has had to deal with too much grown up stuff all while coming of age without either parent here to lean on.”
The truth in her words stop me in my tracks, cutting deep. “Geez, thanks mom for making me feel worse than I already do.”
Easing next to me, her arm slides under mine pulling me in for a squeeze. “Oh honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m only stating a fact.”
“No, you’re right. When Em infuriates me, it’s like all rationale disappears.” Forcing a breath out, I confess, “I can’t imagine not having you and dad around to help me through all of this. I—I don’t think I ever told you that.”
“It’s not necessary, your father and I know you appreciate us.”
“We sure do, but as your mother said, there’s no need to thank us. You’re our boy and we’ll always be here for you and Emmy,” dad reiterates, patting my shoulder from behind.
“Hey dad, I didn’t hear you come in. You know, I’m starting to feel like I’m not the father Taylor would have wanted me to be,” before my emotions get the best of me, I say, “I don’t want either of you to think I take any of this lightly. With everything you’ve done for us since Taylor—”
“—We know honey, don’t give it another thought,” mom grins.
My father adds, “You know your sister has chipped in quite a bit the last few years. Kyle and Nikki like having their cousin around.”
“Yeah, Sloane told me. I’m glad Em gets to grow up with her extended family. It’s something Taylor and I wanted for her. I’m hoping their manners will rub off on my daughter. With her intentionally pushing my buttons and me trying to adjust to a new schedule, I’m not getting much sleep.”
Mom grabs three mu
gs, sets them on the island and pours each of us coffee as dad points to the chair closest to me and sits down across from it. After dad updates me on his last doctor’s visit from his fall, I have one more cup of coffee before heading to work.
Em’s attitude floats through my head as my phone rings. “Mornin',” I grumble into my truck speaker.
“What’s wrong?” Sloane, my sister, asks.
“Why do you assume something’s wrong?”
“Well, for starters you didn’t put a good before the mornin', and second, I know that tone all too well, you’re my baby brother, remember?”
“Yeah, well it’s hard to start the day right when your kid wants nothing more than to pick a fight with you. And uh, I didn’t sleep well either which didn’t help the situation.”
“Nightmares?” That’s the reason we’re closer than most siblings, she knows me better than our mother and doesn’t hesitate to call me out.
“Yeah.”
“Taylor?” She pries, despite already knowing the answer.
“Yup,” I sigh. “Why can’t I sleep peacefully like most men do?”
“Because most men haven’t been through one iota of what you have. When you’re ready to face it head on bro, it’ll be easier to process what happened, which will allow you to move on.”
My sister knows all about the battle scars of military life, having retired just two years ago with twenty years of service to enjoy life with her husband and kids.
“But it’s been three years. Why can’t I talk about it without dripping with sweat and feeling like my heart’s going to explode? ...
