“What?” I answered.
“Hey.” The person on the other end didn’t pause at my abrupt greeting. “How have ya been?”
I was halfway to clearing my throat when I froze at the voice. “Barrett.”
“Yep.”
Shaking my head, I took a deep breath. “You said you’d stop calling.”
His distinct, terribly jovial laugh was another sharp sound pulsing through my skull. “We both know I’ve never been the best at keeping my promises.”
My jaw locked, hand curling tighter around the phone as I gritted out my next question. “Why are you calling me?”
“Not for any sort of courtesy call to see how you are—that’s for sure. I’m back in the area, like I told you I would be. I was thinking ’bout ya.”
“Isn’t that nice?”
“It’s bad for my goddamn peace of mind, but I do, so don’t tell me I shouldn’t. I figured I’d give you a call and see how you’re doing back stateside these days.”
How am I doing?
I swallowed. It would’ve been easier to gulp down sand. “When did you get back?”
“About two weeks ago. Most of us are on leave for the next month. Maybe anyway.”
Most of us.
Might as well of been none of us.
“It would be good to see you. We should go out and get a round at the Bar on Main tonight,” said Barrett.
I picked at my sweatpants as I sat. The homemaker was right. There was a stain on one leg. I had no idea how or when it had gotten there. “I’m good.”
“Come on. You know you liked my stories while you were laid up. Who else would’ve talked to your grumpy ass?” Barrett paused when he noticed I still wasn’t laughing with him. “Don’t be like that, brother.”
“I’m not your brother.”
“Sure you’re not.” He wasn’t deterred. “One drink. That’s it.”
I sighed, looking around the room I’d sequestered myself in. It was a wreck. “One drink.”
“I’ll be there at seven.”
“Seven.” I hit the End Call button.
Once, I would’ve answered that phone and immediately been in my car for Barrett. Now, I wanted to scream.
I clenched my fists as I shut my eyes and threw my phone on the bed. I started to pace again, my feet trailing back and forth over the cold floor that the homemaker had also helped the construction crew stain to meet their deadline before they left. Even they had been surprised at how good of a job she did.
“A real pro,” the lead guy, Frank, I thought, had said.
I hadn’t even thought to ask him for his name. Or talk to any of them at all.
I’d wanted to be alone. And I was alone now. Pacing. Walking. Because I needed to breathe to walk.
“Deep breaths,” the psych had told me on base after I got back and was still in the hospital, ready to be cleared after they pulled about eight different kinds of metal from my leg and the side of my body. “When you’re overwhelmed, that’s all you need to do. You have no other assignment or post to worry about, but taking deep breaths right now.”
They forgot to tell you that, sometimes, it didn’t matter. Sometimes, you couldn’t breathe anyway.