Ask, Tell, page 22
desperate to discuss it and I’m going to have to tell him
eventually, so why am I stalling? Maybe by keeping it all to
myself, it makes the issue less real.
Mitch has to rush off to rounds. I spend ten minutes
unpacking, leave Amy’s gifts on her bed then head to the
main hospital building where I greet everyone cheerfully. We
chat about my leave, my hair and I give them news about
what was going on back home.
There’s always a wistful quality to people’s questions
about home. I know I’ve done the same thing when talking
about someone’s time away, as though you could absorb
some fragment of being there by talking about it. I find Amy
scrubbing out of a surgery and the moment I’m in range she
grabs me tightly by the arms.
“Sabine.” She drags my name out. “My God. You are the
absolute best fucking thing I’ve seen all year.” She is
shaking me furiously, emphasizing each word with a jolt. I
grin as my head jerks around. When she’s done pretending
I’m a martini, Amy hugs me. “You look fucking amazing. So
much better. How’re you feeling?”
“Wonderful.”
“Ready to get back to it?” Amy releases me and pulls her
cap off.
“Absolutely.” I itch to get back to work. I need to put my
hands on a patient. I need to fix something and most of all, I
need a distraction from my jitters.
“Good. You can help me do rounds then maybe I can eat
some fucking lunch.”
The afternoon sees an influx of casualties and I slide right
back into work, filling the days until Rebecca’s return. I’m
pleased it’s busy because I know that if I stop to really think,
then despair about our fledgling relationship will creep in.
The bite mark on my hip has almost faded, as have the
scratches. I hope it’s not a metaphor of what we had fading
away. Don’t be ridiculous, Sabine. Stop trying to make
everything have some hidden meaning. It’s your skin
healing and nothing more.
* * *
Mitch and I manage to work out a few times and he finally
fills me in about the guy he met while he was in Qatar. He
has received a number of emails from him and they plan to
get together again when they are both stateside. I’m so
happy for him that I cry and he laughs at me, but I can tell
he is touched. He lacks friends outside of our immediate
circle here and even if nothing romantic comes of it, this will
be such a boon for him.
“What’s his name again?” I ask.
“Mike,” he says proudly.
I snort. “Mitch and Mike. It sounds like a really shitty
sitcom.”
He flicks me.
I almost tell him my secret a number of times, but
something always makes me swallow the words. Perhaps I
don’t want to step on his new friendship, or maybe I’m
afraid to verbalize and admit how important this thing with
Rebecca is to me. How important she is to me. She gave me
back the lost piece of myself and I’m frightened if I open my
mouth to let him know, it will somehow be taken from me
again. Such a stupid, irrational thought.
The night before Rebecca is due back, I sleep surprisingly
well. I have already decided not to go meet her transport
when it comes in because under ordinary circumstances I
wouldn’t, and I have to pretend everything is still ordinary.
Another small group of patients comes through early in the
morning and I spend the day trying to save the life of a
soldier injured by an IED blast.
Both John and Amy are with me, three sets of hands
jostling for space and hurriedly controlling the hemorrhage.
We leave him in the best shape we can, but he will need to
go under again tomorrow or the following day for another
round of surgeries before he can be moved on. Amy signs
his chart. “I am fucking starving,” she grumbles, handing it
off to me.
Her blunt declaration makes me smile. I glance at the
time. It’s nearly half-past one and we still haven’t eaten a
real meal today. There has been no sign of Rebecca. Keane.
Colonel Keane. Get it into your head, Sabine. “I’ll come with
you.” I flip through the pages, sign my name and stretch out
to pass the chart over to John.
“Sold.” Amy pops a gun finger at me. “So long as you find
me an orange.” She barges out of the theater with me in
tow.
I know Keane is back. I catch sight of her walking past the
doorway while I’m typing reports but she keeps going,
looking straight ahead. She’s had a few days, maybe she
regrets it. Maybe she has changed her mind. I feel as
though I’m in an elevator with a broken cable, the floor
falling out from underneath me. I try to dispel my doubt. Her
words and actions were clear. It’s your insecurity, Sabine.
Stop thinking about it.
We don’t speak until later in the afternoon. She joins me
outside where I’m running solo laps, trying to work off
nervous energy. I stop, come to attention and wait for her to
approach me. “Colonel Keane.” I put just the right amount of
respect into my greeting and congratulate myself for
keeping my eyes on her face. You can do this! You are
strong, capable and you just looked at her tits. You suck,
Sabine.
“Captain Fleischer, good afternoon. May I join you?”
Rebecca smiles as she asks the question, knowing I could
never decline.
“Of course, ma’am, but I’m afraid I was just going to start
a cooldown lap.”
“That’s fine, Sabine. Honestly, I’m a little jet-lagged,” she
admits in a tired voice. She begins to walk and I fall in
beside her, careful to keep distance between us. I glance
sideways. The corner of her mouth is lifted and I see her
cheek dimple. She finally turns her head, flashing a cheeky
grin. “How was your leave, Captain? Did you manage to
resolve anything?”
My heart stutters and I respond with a broad smile. “Yes
ma’am, as a matter of fact I did.” I keep eye contact and
raise an eyebrow. “May I inquire about yours? I heard you
took a break. Did you enjoy your time away?”
“Indeed, thank you. It was very relaxing and also quite
informative.”
We laugh at our private joke and some of my anxiety
settles. At the far corner of the track away from the
buildings, Rebecca turns to me without breaking stride. “I
missed you, Sabine,” she murmurs.
I pause, aware of the lump in my throat. “I’ve missed you
too.”
We exchange a tender look and instantly I know all my
doubts and fears are baseless. There’s so much I want to
say but before I can open my mouth, she tells me
regretfully, “I do have to get in. I’ve got a meeting with
Burnett but I just needed to see you. In case I don’t talk to
you during work tomorrow, I’ll meet you here at the same
time and we’ll talk.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“As you were, Captain.” She winks at me then peels off,
leaving me alone. She walks across the dirt and into the
building. My eyes are on her ass the entire time.
* * *
The days blend together as we reconnect. We run every
afternoon, discussing everything from surgery to books and
movies. She asks about my family and I oblige with details
of Jana’s latest dating disasters. All the things we ran out of
time for in the short time back home are now laid out bare.
The more we expose ourselves to each other, the more I
find myself falling in love with her. We haven’t said it yet.
I’m afraid to. Afraid to admit it when we are still so fragile.
We keep at least a foot between us at all times but when
we stop running each afternoon and I see her, sweaty and
panting, I think of the way she looked each time we made
love and I’m desperate to touch her. My body aches with my
desire to hold her, to make her scream my name again.
Judging by her pained expression as she watches me
watching her, it would seem she feels similarly.
Each run ends with us no closer to a resolution than when
we began and I have to take myself to the showers to relive
her touch over and over again. We do not touch at all, not
even when I am called into her office and the door is closed.
“You drawin’ pictures on your reports?” Mitch asks me at
breakfast.
I look up from my plate. “What do you mean?”
“All them meetin’s with Keane. You gotta be doing
something wrong, Sabs.”
Shit, shit, shit. I take a bite of toast, trying to think of a lie.
“Oh. No, uh…I saw a thing about those trials they did earlier
this year. You know, the different clotting preps? Thought
she’d be interested.”
He looks at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted a second set of
ears. “Since when were you interested in clinical trials?” The
incoming alert saves me from having to say anything
further.
If Keane and I operate together she is cordial, almost
standoffish. I recognize the way her fingers always twitch to
rub thumb and forefinger together whenever she is cold
toward me. It’s the same thing they did in the dusky light
when we spoke on the bench. I catch her looking at me
during group meetings and across the lounge.
Despite our physical distance I’ve never felt closer to her,
yet we still have no solution. We contemplate a number of
options—like asking for a unit transfer for one of us,
sneaking around and risking getting caught, being
discharged, waiting my service obligation out and being
miserable under DADT, and everything in between.
I drift to sleep trying to think of ways I can fix this and I
wake up empty. The whispers about changes to Don’t Ask,
Don’t Tell are becoming louder but Rebecca and I agree that
even if it comes into effect before I leave service it will do us
no good. She will always be my superior. Unless I ask for
that transfer. And then we will be apart.
We even discuss my idea that I would extend my contract
—the very same thing I fought about with Vic. But there’s
still no certainty there, either of us could be moved at any
time. Even if we aren’t, both of us staying in the military
means we will have to deny our feelings and that is a
miserable idea. Everything goes around and around in
circles. There is no easy or good solution. I know I’m being
selfish and childish, wanting everything to work out without
any of the hard or annoying things in the way. It’s just so
hard not having a game plan, or one that makes any sense.
Rebecca listens as I work through my thoughts out loud
but doesn’t push me one way or the other. Put simply it
comes down to deciding what’s worse—a year apart every
deployment, working in different locations, or working
together knowing we’re breaking the rules and trying to act
like we’re not lovers.
I force myself to be upbeat. “Maybe I should just stand on
the table at breakfast and shout ‘I’m gay!’ Problem solved.”
She laughs. “I’m sure that will end well.” Then she hints at
a possible solution. “You know, I could leave the army. My
obligation is long over.”
I stumble, almost tripping. “Really?”
In the end, both of us agree that’s not a good solution
right now. Despite our feelings, everything is too new, too
unsure. We agree I need to fulfill my contractual
requirements to clear my college debts and we can start
properly when I am out. Perhaps she will also retire then.
Rebecca lets out a helpless groan. “I just cannot think of a
way around it. Not one which won’t risk our jobs and
reputations, or disappoint your family.”
“I know,” I whisper.
When we get home in a few months, we’ll talk more in a
neutral place away from the thing that’s causing the issue.
Maybe it’ll bring some clarity. I’ve made it clear that for me,
leaving things the way they are feels like the better of a
bunch of bad options. I don’t think I could stand being
transferred away from her. But then the thought of at least
four more years pretending there is nothing between us fills
me with distress so deep that I wonder if I can do it.
Rebecca meets me just before sunset one afternoon,
inside the running track where I am stretching. I jump to my
feet. “Come to help me with my hamstrings, Colonel?”
She smiles wistfully at me. “If only. Are you ready to go?”
“Always.” I pull my cap on to keep my bangs off my face.
We run silently for almost four laps before she speaks. She
is distraught. “I wish I could make this work. I’m so sorry,
I’ve tried. We’ve both tried. I’ve barely thought of anything
else, Sabine.”
I swallow, trying to think of something to say. I can’t. I look
at the ground as I run.
Rebecca’s voice cracks a little. “I hate it,” she spits out. “I
hate not touching you and pretending I’m annoyed with you,
because if I don’t do it this way, then I’m scared I might slip
up. Every night I go to bed thinking about you, Sabine. The
way you taste and feel. Every look and every touch. It’s
driving me fucking crazy.”
She slows and I stop jogging to walk beside her. My chest
feels tight and it has nothing to do with running. I rub my
palm over my sternum. “Do you want to forget it all
together?” My voice is soft. I can’t look at her because I’m
too afraid if I do then she might say yes, it’s all too hard and
she wants to throw it away. My heart beats sluggishly.
“No,” Rebecca says immediately.
I let out a breath. “Me either.”
“I just want it to be different. The way we know it can be.
The way it will be.” She looks sideways at me and I catch
her eye. It’s getting dark. We begin to walk off the track
toward the barracks. “It can be, Sabine, but we just have to
wait and try to find some way to make it through together.”
She is right. The only way is to wait. Can I do it? Every
moment without her, I feel as though something dims
within, like a few of my cells dying off. Not such a big deal
now, but if I lose enough will I lose myself all over again?
As we stroll I stare at the ground. There it is. We’ve made
a choice. We wait years, hiding under DADT and army
expectations, and hope we can make it. My family and our
careers are facing off with our life together. What is more
important? There is such an awful taste in my mouth. This is
a fucking horrible decision to make, and a horrible situation
to be shoved into because of policy. I swipe my palms over
my eyes. I feel completely defeated.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I rise before dawn after a restless night, waking constantly
to think about Rebecca. Knowing she is in bed so close to
me but untouchable is torture. Today I’ll go to Fermo, a
nearby camp, and spend the day stabbing the arms of
soldiers with their yearly influenza booster. It’s easier for
one of us to spend a day there, than for them to transport
troops back and forth to the hospital. A nurse usually
administers vaccines, but I asked Rebecca to let me go this
time. I need to think about something other than our
relationship, and I imagine a day with a little bit of distance
will help.
I leave without saying goodbye to anyone. The halls are
quiet. Everyone is most likely asleep after our late surgeries
last night. When I pass Rebecca’s door, I almost knock but I
don’t know what I would say should she open it. I hoist
medkit and cooler bags up onto my shoulder and walk
outside into the surprisingly crisp September morning air.
Our room was too dark to see when I left and I didn’t want
to wake Amy by turning on the light. I give myself a look
over, check my rifle and sling it back behind me. It bumps
against my ass and I keep wanting to turn to see what’s
touching me. We always carry our pistols, but our rifle is
required as well when we’re moving outside the wire. I tug
my pistol from its holster, double-check the safety then
reholster it. Everything is in order. Not a bad effort for a
night op.
A single vehicle arrives at o-five thirty as the sun begins
