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“You should have called,” she said. “Which sport?”
“He came in fourth in the shooting event.” Her mom patted Joe’s shoulder. “And he was second during the trials at West Point.”
She remembered her mother mentioning a trip to West Point during one of their weekly calls back when she was living in Portland. But she’d been trying to adjust to having Hero in her life, and struggling to fix her crumbling marriage.
“It was fun,” Joe said. “Good to be part of a team again. Next year, I’m going to enter the track and field events. I just got a new prosthetic designed for running. My times are even better than with my real leg.”
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” Mr. Rodriguez announced to the table.
“I don’t know about that, Daddy,” she said softly, her smile vanishing. “I haven’t felt strong in a long time.”
Saying those words out loud, to her father, Lena felt as if the determination that she wore like body armor had been stripped away.
“I know, Lena, but you will be,” her daddy said, his voice resolute as if she could erase her fears though sheer willpower. If only it worked that way. If she could wake up one day and push the fear, the hypervigilance, and the depression away, burying it in a game of mind over matter, she would.
“Tomorrow you’re going to receive the army’s third highest honor,” her father continued. “And then maybe you’ll consider going back. The army has resources for soldiers suffering from a little anxiety.”
“Daddy, I didn’t leave my house for three months. I pushed my husband away, my friends, everyone. I need a dog at my side to get through the day,” she said, her voice rising with every word. “Tomorrow, I might run the other way when I see the stage and the crowd of people. I don’t have a little anxiety. I’m buried in it. It’s been suffocating me for months.
“Now that I’m finally on my way to a semi-normal life, a fresh start, no, I don’t want to go back.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t do it, Daddy. I’m sorry. I’m still alive, but I’m not strong. Not anymore.”
The table fell silent, the three members of her family staring back at her. Her fingers brushed Chad’s thigh as he raised his hand, signaling the waiter.
“Can we take ours to go?” Chad asked when the server appeared at his side.
“You’re leaving?” her mom said, her tear-filled eyes wide with surprise.
“I just remembered a call I need to make,” Chad said. “Business stuff.”
“What line of work are you in?” her father demanded, his eyes narrowing on Chad before glancing at her. She debated running to the truck now that she’d delivered the speech that had been building inside her for the past year.
“Helicopter logging,” Chad said with a smile, as if this was a logical reason for an abrupt departure. Under the table, he took her hand and squeezed.
“I’m just starting out really,” Chad continued. “Before that my siblings and I ran the trucking company founded by my grandfather. We hauled timber mostly.”
Chad kept talking, filling the void as they waited for their to-go bag. But Lena tuned him out, her father’s words echoing in her head.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
But what if tomorrow, on that stage, she turned into a puddle of weakness? What if it pushed her close to the point that she wished she’d given her life when she was at her strongest? What if even for the brief time it took to receive the award, she thought about giving up on herself?
Lena stared at the seventy-pound dog anchoring her to the chair when she wanted to run as fast as she could away from this restaurant, her family, and these feelings. If she gave up, there would be no one left holding on to the belief that one day she could reach out and touch normal again.
“Lena, are you ready?” Chad asked.
No one except him.
Chad pushed back from the table, a take-out bag in one hand. “I really do need to make that call.”
“Yes.” She nudged Hero and he hopped off her lap. Taking Chad’s free hand, she stood, allowing him to lead her toward the door. But with each step the isolation mounted.
She couldn’t count on the pretend boyfriend holding her hand. Their relationship was for show. She needed to rebuild her life on something solid. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched her family clustered together—three people at a table set for five. Maybe once upon a time, they had been her foundation. But now they wanted strength from her, not weakness. And she couldn’t deliver.
Lena stepped out into the cool fall night. Darkness had descended on the sleepy little Oregon town near the army base. Chad beat her to the truck, opening the passenger side door for her.
“So what do you think,” he said. “Did I make a good first impression?”
His teasing words were like a crutch, there to prop her up when her world started to crumble.
