Second That Emotion
by Latikia
Copyright © 2006
Chapter 13
I was evac’d the next day to
The first thing I noticed was the heavy wire mesh on the outsides of the windows. I guess they worried about someone jumping out in a fit of depression or maybe tossing someone else out in a fit of anger. The half of the floor I was going to be on had one big bay area all the way at the back filled with beds, like the old style hospitals always had. Not even semi-private. Almost like the old open bay barracks. The other half was for patients that had to be restrained full time. I was wheeled to my bed, sandwiched between a much older man in his fifties who snored like a buzz saw, and one about my own age who never seemed to blink. Neither one was very talkative, which suited me fine. I was given the standard welcome by the ward boss, a male nurse, Captain Rossi, who informed me about the rules and schedule. I had my vital signs taken and the results were noted on my new official chart while he talked.
“Once you’ve been seen by one of the staff psychiatrists they’ll let us know what your status is going to be. If they agree, you’ll be allowed freedom of the hospital and the grounds during regular hours. Until then you’re pretty much confined to this floor. Meds are distributed three times a day; meals are brought to your bed. Along with the first generic meal will be a check sheet. You can request what you like from off the list, if you don’t have dietary restrictions. If that turns out to be the case you have to suffer with what the doc’s say you can have.”
I nodded my understanding.
“There’s a dayroom just outside the main bay with a TV, some books and games. A latrine and showers just down the hall from that, semi-private rooms along the sides, those are mostly for the female patients and patients under watch. If the door is closed, stay out. If it’s open, you can visit if you want. Under no circumstances are you to close the door if you are in there with a female patient. At the end of the hall, outside the double doors are a couple more toilets and the elevators and the doctor’s offices. You’ve seen the nurse’s station. There is always someone there, either the ward nurse or a medtech. Patients are not allowed to use the phones at the nurse’s station. There is a pay phone next to the nurse’s station and another out by the doctor’s offices.”
“Is there a gym or a weight room somewhere around here?” I asked.
“Sort of. On the floor above us is a large open bay that used to be for calisthenics. It’s got some big flat pads; you know the kind they use for wrestling? And I think there might be a heavy bag up there. But that’s about it. No weights. For that you’ll have to be sent to physical therapy.”
“I’d really like to start running again. I used to run several miles a day before I got sent to Saudi.”
“Is that where you got shot?”
“No.
Captain Rossi did a quick scan of my chart. “Hmmm. Okay, you’re supposed to meet with Colonel DeBerg at 1400. After that, based on what he tells us, you’ll be assigned to a group. The groups meet every morning at 0900 with their own doctors. At 1000 we have a floor meeting. The patients elect their own officers, president, vice president, secretary. They make decisions about non-hospital related activities, like field trips to the Mall, museums, bowling, picnics and the like. When the weather gets warmer we allow patients off the hospital grounds to the Base swimming pool. If you’re authorized by your doctor you can go to the Base Exchange, or the movie theater. You’ll get used to the schedule pretty quick.”
“How many others are there on this ward right now?”
“Ten at the moment. Eight are more or less resident, including you. That changes from time to time. We get temporary patients in and out of here all the time. Most of them are being moved between hospitals all over the country. Quite a few get sent here because they’re seeing doctors or getting tests run over at Annapolis. They have more modern facilities and equipment than we do here, but their bed space is limited.”
I said thanks and let the man get back to his work. I stretched out on the bed and drifted off to sleep. A medical technician woke me up a few hours later and wheeled me down the hallway towards my 1400 appointment with Colonel DeBerg.
Air Force Colonel DeBerg was a big man with thick black hair that had started graying. He looked to me a lot like a bigger, older version of my brother. His face was ruddy and bronzed, reminding me of pictures I’d seen in books of old time sailors.
“Good afternoon, Sergeant Blacktower. I’m Colonel DeBerg.” Colonel not Doctor. I got up out of the wheel chair and stood facing him.
“Colonel.” He didn’t like that I was taller than him, I could see that in his eyes. I made him uneasy.
“Step in and have a seat.” He ordered, waving me into his office. I walked in and stood beside one of the chairs in front of his desk. He followed me in and shut the door then took a seat behind the desk. I sat down and waited.
“Sergeant, questions have been raised about your willingness to continue in military service.”
“Willingness, colonel? I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
He eyed me for a few seconds.
“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? Your mental stability is in doubt. I’m informed that you talk to yourself, no…that you have animated conversations aloud in which you take both sides.”
“That’s probably true. I can’t be sure. I was wounded and bleeding, injected with morphine, dehydrated, hadn’t been eating well, sleep deprived and suffering from heat stroke. Also physically exhausted and trying to keep from being captured or killed. I’m pretty sure I was also delusional. Of course, I could have imagined that.”
“How are you feeling right now?”
“Physically, my hip hurts like hell, but not nearly as bad as before. The painkillers help. The scratch on my shoulder hardly bothers me at all. I tire easily, but that probably won’t last much longer. Mentally, I’m having some difficulty keeping focused. I never used to have that problem.”
“Your file says that you were on a classified mission when you were wounded, a combat mission.”
“I didn’t shoot myself colonel.”
“No…I didn’t mean to give that impression.”
“It’s an awkward question, I know. Yes, I killed men.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No, not at all. No guilt, no remorse. I had a long talk with myself on the way back about that very subject. I have ethical and philosophical problems with the justification and rightness of killing, but not with the necessity.”
“Would you do it again, if your commander ordered you to?”
“My Colonel didn’t order me. He asked me to go. I agreed with his reasons for selecting me over the other men, so I went. I spoke with him before they sent me to Germany and I told him then that I couldn’t do that kind of thing again.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Colonel, I worked in Army CID for two years before I was transferred to a combat intelligence unit a couple of months ago. I never trained for the mission I went on. I’ve never been to Combat Infantry School, or survival school, or sniper school or anything like that. I was trained to be an analyst and an interviewer; a criminal investigator. Do you remember in the news a few months back about a couple of shootings that happened in Maryland; an army Lt. with a rifle shooting at people on the street from his apartment? And a man in a police station who took the gun from a cop and held him hostage?”
DeBerg nodded. “Yes, I remember hearing about both of those.”
“I killed those men. That’s when I was transferred to a unit headed for Saudi Arabia.”
“So taking a life is not something new to you?”
“No. I learned to hunt when I was thirteen. The act of killing does not bother me. I’m good at it; far too good, if you want my opinion. But it’s not what I want to do with my life.”
“Alright, Sergeant, that’s enough for now. I’m going to schedule you for some additional evaluations and medical tests. Once the medical tests are complete and your regular physician releases you, you’ll be allowed full freedom of the hospital and weekend passes off base if you want them. I’ll see you when the other evaluations are completed.”
I had been dismissed, though politely. I stood up and left his office. Leaving the wheel chair in the hallway, I walked back to my bed in the bay and lay down.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. A quick retirement from the Army and I could get on with my life.
Never, ever underestimate the perversity of the military bureaucracy.
That night, after the dinner meal (and they say MREs are a lousy substitute for food), I wrote a short letter to my sister.
My dearest Izzy,
Pay no attention to anything you may have heard from the Army or the DoD about me being missing or killed. I’m alive and kicking. A little perforated, but otherwise fine and back in the US.
I’ll be here at Walter Reed until the military makes up its collective mind what they want to do with me. If you want to come see me, you’re more than welcome. If not, I understand.
I realize that I’ve been insensitive to your feelings for far too long. Part of that was me paying too much attention to feelings and not enough to actions. Part was me being stupid and selfish and unwilling to share my feelings with you. It’s been far too easy for me to take for granted that you know how I feel, just because I knew how you did.
I’m so sorry for that. More than you can imagine, I think.
In any event, I have no guilt or regret for what was. Only fond memories and love. Always love. You saved me from myself once and one day I hope to repay that debt, if you’ll let me.
Your loving little brother,
Ike
I sealed the envelope, addressed it care of my father and gave one of the nigh medtechs five dollars to mail it for me. No way was I trusting it to the military psych censors.
The next morning I attended my first ‘group’ session.
If you’ve never been to a ‘group’, I highly recommend it. There’s nothing like sitting around for an hour listening to other people talk about their problems, and you have no choice but to stay and listen.
Yeah, I could have tuned them out. I’m pretty sure at least two of them did just that on a regular basis. There’s supposed to be some kind of ‘shared group dynamic’ that allows the individual to spill their guts without fear of mockery or recrimination.
There were five men in my group.
One was a skeletal Navy Lt. Commander named Walt, about my
height, but half my weight, who looked like an escapee
from
One was a young Air Force Senior Airman named David who’d had problems with his superiors and tried to transfer to the army, but had been denied. He’d taken a .22 pistol and tried to kill himself by pressing the barrel to his belly-button and pulling the trigger. The doctors were still in the process of putting his mangled guts back into some kind of working order, and processing him for court-martial. He had become a radical pacifist.
One was a middle aged Air Force analyst, a Master Sergeant by the name of Tim, who had been working on recon photos in Korea, when he snapped and tried to throw several large metal file cabinets and his Korean associate out a window that didn’t exist. He was so heavily sedated and drugged with anti-depressants that he made a dead turtle with two broken legs look speedy. He’d been diagnosed with an unbalanced brain chemistry leading to manic behavior. The doctors were feeding him drugs to stabilize his brain and give him back some semblance of normalcy.
The fourth was a short, bull chested Marine Captain named Auggie. Auggie was unusual in that he appeared to be calm and controlled, even charming, most of the time, but had a hair trigger temper that he couldn’t control. Apparently this hair trigger had gone off one time too many, even for the Marines to put up with. If the docs couldn’t fix him with therapy or drugs, he was on his way to a VA ward somewhere very much like this one, maybe for good. Auggie was also sedated most of the time, but I’d been warned by Captain Rossi not to assume anything, because when Auggie went off, he’d target the largest person around.
And I was number five. The new guy. So naturally our ‘group moderator’, an Army 2nd Lt. by the name of Janice Watson, decided to have me do a gut spill for the group.
“Ike, you’re new to the group, so why don’t you tell us a little about yourself and why you think you’re here?”
No one in these group sessions was ever addressed by their ranks, only first names. I suppose the idea was to be more informal and less threatening.
I gave her a cockeyed look, but shrugged my shoulders.
“My name is Ike Blacktower, and I’m here because the Army is trying to decide if I’m mentally unstable enough to be retired.”
“Sounds familiar.” Auggie joked.
“Why does the Army think you’re unstable, Ike?” Lt. Watson asked, moving the interview along.
I smiled at her. “Lt., I’m not sure how much of what got me sent here is classified and how much I’m allowed to talk about. You might want to talk to Colonel DeBerg and find out for both of us.”
Her eyes widened a tiny bit then she relaxed and sat back. “An excellent suggestion. I’ll do that right after ‘group’.”
Our ‘group session’ was being held in the open bay area; one bed had been shoved against a wall to make room for the semi-circle of chairs we sat on. The double doors to the bay had been closed for the purpose of the group meeting, but they slammed open and a stark naked woman came tearing in, looking like the hounds of hell were hard on her heels. Her eyes were hugely dilated, her lightly tanned skin was sweaty, her dirty blond hair was tangled and matted and looked like an overused mop.
She might have been pretty; it was hard to say for sure. I noticed her breasts were heavy and the skin of her belly was loose and sagged a bit, which detracted from her overall appearance. I put two and two together quickly. This woman had just recently given birth.
She started climbing over the beds then diving under them. She got to a wall and tried to climb out. When that didn’t work she began looking for a place to hide.
I looked quickly towards Lt. Watson, wondering what she planned to do. She was frozen, with amazement or confusion or something, but she was out of her depth at the moment.
The others in my group, with the exception of Auggie, were watching with interest, but they weren’t going to be any help. Auggie was watching the woman with more than interest on his face.
Where in hell were the techs or Captain Rossi?
Auggie started to get up.
“Stay put. She’s scared enough without you making it worse.” I growled at him.
“Shut your trap, snowman! I’ll damn well do what I like.”
I linked with him. Yeah, his trigger had gone off alright. Rage was building, running neck and neck with lust to see which could fill him first. I linked with the naked woman. She was a mass of fear, terror, and loss. I funneled her emotions into Auggie, full blast.
He whimpered and crawled under his chair, shaking like a leaf. I cut the link to Auggie and turned my attention to the woman. I started sending her feelings of peace, contentment, love and compassion.
I got to my feet carefully, my side still stiff and sore, and began to walk slowly towards her.
“No one’s going to hurt you. You’re a little confused and lost is all. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
I spoke softly, like I would have to an abused dog, with gentle relaxed monotones and no surprises. I kept sending as strongly as I could, just to her. She’d backed herself into a corner, like a trapped rat and was frantically searching for a way out.
I heard movement behind me, feet skidding to a stop.
“Nobody move! Just stay put for a few minutes.” I ordered, keeping my eyes on the woman.
“Come here, honey. I’ll help you find what you lost. I’ll keep you safe.” I pushed love and safety at her as hard as I could while I moved closer and closer. I got down on my knees when I was about five feet away from her.
“Come on. It’ll be alright.” She launched herself out of the corner and into my arms, wrapping her self tightly around my body and started crying. I held her close and rocked her back and forth like a small child, rubbing one hand across her back and shoulders.
“It’s alright now, you’re not lost anymore. I’ve got you. You don’t have to be scared.”
I held her and rocked her until she stopped crying and fell asleep. Reaching out I tore a sheet from the nearest bed and wrapped it around her body. Then scooped her up and got to my feet. Turning around I carried her towards the small crowd that had gathered at the double doors.
Colonel DeBerg, Captain Rossi, six medtechs and some of the other residents of the ward were all standing there.
“Someone want to tell me where the maternity ward is?”
Captain Rossi and two of the techs took her from me, put her on a gurney and wheeled her off down the hall.
Colonel DeBerg gave me an odd look. “Well done, Sergeant. Very well done. You missed your calling, I think.”
I shook my head. “Not so much missed as left, Colonel. I was pre-med in college before I dropped out and joined the Army.”
“Something of a Horse Whisperer too, eh?”
“Something like that.”
He nodded. “Lt. Watson, walk with me, would you?”
Colonel DeBerg and Lt. Watson left, putting an end to my first ‘group’. But I had one more thing to do.
I turned and headed towards Auggie, who was finally getting out from under his chair.
I sat down in the seat I’d been in when the mess started.
“Auggie, I understand that you have problems with self control. What you need to understand is that I have a problem too, and you’re making it very hard for me to keep my problem from becoming your problem.”
“Don’t take that tone with me, sergeant!”
I sighed. “Come on then.” I got up and started walking towards the elevators. I didn’t hear footsteps behind me. I turned around.
“Do you want your shot at me or not, you cocksuckin’ mini-bitch?”
Auggie was on his feet in a flash and followed me down the hall. Colonel DeBerg and Captain Rossi were standing by the elevators when the two of us arrived.
Rossi cocked an eye. I shrugged slightly. “The Major and I are going up to the gym for a couple of minutes for a little chat. We’ll be right back.”
“One of us will be.” Auggie snarled. DeBerg started looking a little panicky.
“Don’t worry, colonel. No broken bones, no bruises, no blood and no dead body. I swear. I might even be able to help Auggie with his anger management.”
The elevator door slid open and Auggie and I got in and went up one floor. The door opened on a wide, mostly empty room with closed doors in three of the four walls. There were light blue padded mats piled in one corner, and a large ‘heavy’ bag hanging from the ceiling on a chain.
“How do you want to do this, you gutless albino, with or without rules?”
“Whatever makes you happy, Auggie.” I’d kept the link between us active. As soon as he stepped out of the elevator I leveled him with a river of pain. Pure agony, the absolute worst I could pull up from within me.
The man shrieked, falling to the floor and going into convulsions. I straddled his legs and held his arms to keep him from injuring himself.
“Auggie? Can you hear me?” I eased up on the amount and level of the feeling I was sending down the link, just enough so that I could tell he was aware of what I was saying to him.
“Can you hear me now?” He nodded his head, eyes filled with tears.
“Good. Listen to me very carefully, because I never want to have this conversation with you again. You will not lose your temper around me ever again. Understand?” He shook his head. I fed him several hours of internal bleeding in an instant. “Do you understand me?!”
“Yes! I understand you!” he cried like a small child.
“You will not lose your temper ever again with anyone. Because if you do, I’ll kill you. Eventually. See, that’s why I’m here. For killing. Well, not really. Because I don’t want to kill anymore. But the Marine Corps owes me a life, and if push comes to shove I bet they’d gladly trade yours for the one they owe me. So let’s try real hard not to have a repeat performance, okay?”
Auggie was weeping and leaking snot from his nose.
I hit him with having his toes cut off and the stubs burnt to stop the bleeding.
“OKAY?”
“Yes, sir.” he gasped weakly. I got up off him and called for the elevator. I cut the link and helped him to his fee.
“Just so you know my name isn’t ‘snowman’ or ‘whitey’ or ‘albino’. It’s Ghost. Now come one…let’s go get something to drink.”
Auggie and I stepped off the elevator and walked slowly back to our ward. The resident’s meeting was due to start in ten minutes. While Auggie went to wash up I stopped off at the nurse’s station.
“Hey, Captain…can you spare me a couple of gauze pads and some tape?”
Rossi came out of the office area behind the station.
“I thought you said no broken bones and no blood.”
I opened my pale blue hospital top and showed him the pads over my hip. All the exertion had started them leaking again.
“Auggie’s fine, but I think I need a little repairing.”
Rossi knew his business. Quick as a wink he peeled off the old bandages, checked the wounds and stitches for tears and infection, then applied new ones.
“Are those bullet holes?” I heard a soft, melodious voice beside me ask.
I looked down into her face. It was a pretty face. Big brown eyes, small delicate nose, dark brown hair down past her shoulders. She smiled up at me and I swear it got brighter in that hallway.
“Actually its just one hole. But yeah, it’s a bullet hole.”
“You didn’t shoot yourself?”
“No ma’am. I’m a much better shot than that.” She smiled again and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Just for the record, though…I’m firmly against the right to arm bears. Those furry bastards are pretty good shots.”
She laughed. Not a big laugh, it wasn’t a very good joke, but a nice sweet laugh. She ran her eyes over my chest.
“You’re very pale.”
“Yes, I know. I was born this way.”
She nodded her head. “You have nice muscles. And your skin is very pretty. Like a marble statue.” She turned and walked off towards the dayroom where the resident’s meeting would be held.
“Thank you.” I said to her retreating back.
Rossi finished patching me up, and I closed the snaps on my top. “Thanks Captain.”
“Don’t mention it. What happened with you and Auggie?” he asked.
“We talked. I explained to him that he wasn’t the big dog he thought he was and that if he didn’t want to get bit he’d mind his manners. I don’t think he’ll be a problem from now on, but I’ll keep an eye on him…just in case.”
“You’re an interesting guy Ike. Confusing, but interesting. Better get going or they’ll start the meeting without you.”
Eleven people were in the dayroom, either sitting down already or looking for someplace to sit. Everyone but Tim and I were wearing civilian clothes. Couches and chair were rapidly filling up and soon there was no place left but the floor. I didn’t feel much like sitting anyway, so I leaned up against a wall and listened.
There were three people on the couch next to the main window, and they took control of the meeting.
“Is everyone here?” the young woman who’d spoken to me out in the hall asked.
Captain Rossi had followed me in and shut the door. “Everyone except David. He has an appointment with his doctor.”
She nodded and made a couple of notes in the big accounting book on her lap.
The older man sitting next to her, the one who snored like a buzz-saw, spoke.
“The first order of business is elections. I’m being released tomorrow, so we have to choose new officers. Any nominations for president?”
There was some muttering and then the girl next to him raised her hand.
“I nominate him.” she said softly and pointed at me. Everyone in the room turned and looked where she was pointing.
I shook my head. “No thank you.”
Captain Rossi chuckled. “Sorry Ike. You can’t refuse to be nominated. House rules.”
“Ike has been nominated. Do I hear a second?” Buzz-saw intoned.
“Second.” This from Auggie. That surprised me some.
“Any other nominations for president?”
“I nominate Walt.” I said. The girl on the couch gave me an odd look, but smiled.
“Walt has been nominated. Do I hear a second?” Walt, in a chair off to the side, grimaced.
“I second.” the girl said. Her voice was smooth and easy on my ears. I could have listened to her talk all day long.
“Any more nominations?”
There weren’t any. “Okay, by show of hands, all in favor of Ike…” Every hand in the room went up, including Walt’s, except for mine. “…all in favor of Walt?” I raised my hand.
“Ike is elected.” Buzz-saw got up and motioned for me to take his seat. As our paths crossed he whispered, “All you have to do is run the meeting and keep things calm. You’ll do fine.” He went over and took my place against the wall. I took his place on the couch.
I looked around the room. “Do we need to fill any other offices?”
The girl looked up at me. Her head didn’t quite reach my shoulder. “Not today. Usually the vice-president gets elected to fill the president’s slot and the secretary moves to the vice-president and like that.” She shrugged.
“Okay then. I have no idea how you usually do things at these meetings. I’m familiar with Robert’s Rules of Order, so I guess if I’m running the meeting we’ll use them. Do you read the minutes of the previous meeting?”
The girl nodded. “The last meeting was
yesterday. Started at
“Thank you, madam secretary.” She grinned at me. “Motion that the minutes from the last meeting be accepted as read?”
Several voices seconded the motion.
“Seconded and carried by acclimation. Is there any old business?”
Captain Rossi stepped forward and talked for a bit about the books and games, then read off a list of scheduled appointments people had for the day.
“Thank you Captain. Any other old business? No…okay, any new business?”
Rossi raised his hand. “Yes, Captain?”
“I think it might be a good idea if the new president introduced himself.”
I sighed. Looking around the room I could see interested faces leaning towards me.
“My name is Ike Blacktower. I’m an Army sergeant, and I used to be with the CID. Criminal Investigations Command. I was transferred a few weeks ago and attached to a unit that was sent to Saudi Arabia. While I was there I went on a mission and I was wounded twice and evac’d to Germany and then back here. I’m not as old as I look, but I am always this pale, so don’t expect me to be going with you to the pool.”
No one said a thing, but there were a few quiet laughs.
“Now that that’s out of the way, any other new business?”
Captain Rossi stepped forward once more.
“If anyone wants to request a weekend pass, please get them in to me by Thursday noon so I can have your doctors sign them.”
That pretty much put an end to the meeting.
“Motion to close the meeting?”
“Second!” from nearly everyone.
“Seconded and so moved. Meeting adjourned at 10:35.” I said after looking at the clock in the iron cage on the wall.
People got up and began going about their daily routine. Some came over and said hello, introducing themselves and then taking off.
I was left alone in the dayroom with the dark haired, dark eyed girl still sitting next to me.
“I’m Lilly.” she said. “You’re very tall.”
“I know. I was a six footer when I was thirteen.”
“Did you play basketball in school?”
“No. I’ve never been much for sports. I was on the soccer team and I did a lot of running, just for fun.”
She nodded her head slightly, looking at my hands.
“You’re married.” she said.
I looked down at my hands, seeing for the first time the gold ring on my finger. I’d forgotten it was there. All this time and I’d blanked it out of my mind.
“I was, yes.”
“Does it hurt to talk about it?”
I thought about that for a moment. It always had before. Any time I would remember Carlie there had been pain. But since my time in the desert there had been less pain and more fondness, more love in my thoughts of her and our time together.
“It used to. Constantly. Just thinking of her was like having my heart torn out. After I got shot I had a lot of time to think about things. I came to understand that nothing cures the pain of loss, but Time is like a drug that dulls the edges of the pain and makes it easier to live with.”
“I wish I could feel that way.”
I looked down at her hands. Wedding and engagement rings on her left hand.
“Your husband?”
“No, my babies. I had two, a boy and a girl. Both died when they were a year old. The doctors say it was a genetic birth defect. My husband…”
She started to cry.
I sat there with her as she leaned against me and cried into my shoulder.
Lilly struck me as a very troubled woman. She was obviously older than I was, and after losing two children was also far more worldly. Her being there on the ward told me something as well as the way she’d said ‘my husband…’
Her sobs quieted and she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“My wife was pregnant when she was killed. They were in a car crash.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Sorry should be for things we do, things we have control over. Guilt should be the same way.”
“But if the doctors are right…if my husband is right…the reason my babies died is because of something in me.”
“Maybe it is. And maybe it isn’t. You need to remember that it takes two parents to make a baby. The problem could just as easily be in him as in you. Or it could be a combination of the two of you.”
I reached around with my arm and gave her a little hug.
“Someone very wise told me that we are all born into this world thru pain and suffering. That life is pain. Love is what makes life worth the pain. Don’t throw away life or love out of fear of pain.”
“I miss them so much.” she moaned.
“We always will.”
I gave her another hug then lifted us both off the couch.
“Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”