Page 5 of Buddy System

It’san eight-hour drive from Walter Reed to my hometown, but I’m grateful for the trip. We pass countryside, cities, andmany, many little towns on our way from Maryland to Kentucky. I breathe a little easier when familiar scenery appears out my window.

Finally, our truck turns the corner, and we’re driving down Main Street in Honeybee Hollow, where I was born and raised.

The town has always been filled with great people—the kind who’d give you the shirt off their back if you needed it. In the past several years, however, the town has had something of a renaissance. We’re on the map! We’re known throughout Kentucky (if not the whole country) as the best small town to live in. This is mostly thanks to the Lassiter family. Their son became our tremendously popular mayor and then the youngest-ever governor of Kentucky, and their daughter brought industry back to the town when she bought an abandoned factory and gave people jobs again—makinghats, of all things! Those fancy hats of hers sell all over the place now, and with the Kentucky Derby fashion tradition, her original designs are sought after by all the ladies.

But it wasn’t just Madison and Tanner Lassiter who made our town the best. Town pride soared when everyone saw what those two talented young folks could do, and others started figuring out how they could make a significant difference by giving back to the community. We now have a small but thriving business district that includes all the regular stores like Piggly Wiggly, a hardware store, hair salons, Sock Hop—the best hamburger joint in America—plus a nice hotel, a fancy art gallery, restaurants, a coffeehouse/bakery, antique shops, a couple of bookstores—one just for kids—and a whole slew of trendy boutiques. People have opened up bed and breakfasts in historic buildings and older homes. We have a couple of popular bars where you can listen to live music. One features rockabilly and bluegrass, and it’s frequented by the older residents ofthe community who’ve been here for generations as well as a younger crowd looking for “authenticity.”

The other tavern is more eclectic with a mix of rock, pop, country, and Friday night karaoke. We even have a nature camp just outside of town where corporations send their employees for retreats. Tour buses bring people to town for day trips once in a while, and some of the day trippers end up moving here. Our economy is booming. But even with all this new stuff going on, we’re still a small town; maybe the greatest small town in America, but a small town, nonetheless. Everyone supports the high school’s sports teams, and we have very little crime.

One of the best things about Honeybee Hollow, in my opinion, is its sheer beauty. Sitting at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains, the scenery is incomparable. The air is pure and just makes you feel healthy—even if your head may be filled with demons trying to snatch away your happy thoughts. The best mood enhancer I know of is taking a hike on one of our nature trails. Or fishing. I love to fish right in my own back yard. That might be a challenge for a while with only one functioning arm, but I’ll get better. As for my other hobby…well…I don’t want to think about my artwork. I may never get to do that again.

My family runs a garden center, and it’s been thriving now that town pride is at its highest ever. Except for the years I was in the Army, I’ve worked for them since I was a teenager and enjoy being outside, doing the heavy lifting, and advising people on what to grow.

That is, I used to do the heavy lifting. It’s a lot harder now. I don’t mean to sound like a whiner. I’m as happy as can be that I made it home after that fiasco in Afghanistan.

So why was I itching to leave such an idyllic town in the first place? My parents are uber patriotic and even named me for an obscure vice president they admired. Schuyler Colfax (they made my name easier to spell, thank heaven) served underPresident Grant and was one of the original abolitionists with an interesting life our history books have mostly ignored. I don’t think my family’s actually related to him though. Anyway, my daddy inspired in me a strong love and duty to country, so I enlisted in the Army after graduating from college. I’d never been out of Kentucky, so I thought I could see the world and maybe learn a trade that I’d enjoy.

I did not learn one. I don’t regard shooting people as a marketable skill. So thank heaven for my grandparents and the property I own. I won’t ever go hungry thanks to their generosity.

Like a dumbass, I didn’t count on us being shipped off to Afghanistan so late in the game. We could have been deployed anywhere at any time, but this was a shock after believing the war there was over. Levi and I were supposed to be almost done with the Army! I’m both thankful he was there with me and sad about it at the same time. I owe him my life for his strategic maneuver that shielded me from gunfire, but I’m sorry as hell he got himself shot because of it.

Months go by.I settle back into life in Honeybee Hollow. At first, it’s rough with my arm and the slower pace of my small town, but I get through it. The biggest issue isn’t my injury, or the PTSD, or even the feeling like everyone else around me has moved on with their lives and I’m still stuck in the same place. No, the biggest pain for me is the absence of Levi. He hasn’t called, texted, or written. I’ve tried everything I can think of to get in touch with him, to reconnect, but it’s been radio silence.

I just wish to God he was still in my life. I miss him so badly, it’s a physical ache. I was worried for a time that I’d lose my arm,but the loss of Levi is like phantom limb syndrome. Pain in what is gone.

Finally, after about six months of silence, I can’t take it any longer. Fort Campbell isn’t so far away, and he lives in Hopkinsville, which is just north of the base. I call my parents to let them know I’ll be gone a little while and won’t be available to help them at the garden center. They’re totally understanding considering what I’ve been through. My parents are the best.

I leave at the crack of dawn the next day, armed with a thermos of coffee for the drive.

Chapter

Five

Brooke

Livingwith Levi isn’t like it used to be. After his discharge from Walter Reed, we came back to our little house in Hopkinsville and tried to act as though we were fine.

We weren’t. We aren’t.

Levi can still be his sweet self—mostly. He spends a lot of his time at physical therapy appointments and is religious about his exercises when he’s at home, so he’s looking good. He’s affectionate to a point, but he makes me feel more like a loyal pet than his wife. By that I mean the passion has dried up, and we’re not havinganykind of sex. I’ve tried talking to him about it and not talking to him about it. I’ve tried sexy clothes and lingerie. I’ve tried creating a “mood.” Once I even tried jumping his bones pretty aggressively in bed; that pissed him off more than anything. I wanted to die of embarrassment when he rebuffed me.

I know we have to alter some of our “activities” while he’s still healing, and I’m perfectly happy to cater to those needs bylowering expectations and changing positions. But I just…need…him.

He claims he’s not in much pain, or we could chalk it up to that. Maybe he’s in more pain than he wants to admit. Probably.

I’ve researched everything I can think of, and finally—when Levi refused to go—I saw a therapist myself. By all accounts, Levi’s trouble appears to be psychosomatic. I’ve seen a little evidence of morning wood, though Levi wouldn’t admit it. He’s definitely suffering from PTSD and depression, and there is very little I can do other than try to maintain a healthy atmosphere for him so he can relax, and I pray that he eventually gets over this phase of his life.

“You need to move on, Brooke,” he tells me when his demons are hounding him. “I’m no good for you as a husband. You need someone better.” Then other days, he clings to me like I’m a marsupial mother, and he breaks down and begs me, “Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

And I promise him. Because I’mnotleaving him. I love this man with every bit of my heart, and I know that somehow we’ll get through this and be better when we get past it. I just wish I could get him to discuss more of what’s eating him up inside. Also, we’re both thirty-three, and I’d like to have kids before too long, but I sure don’t see that happening at this rate.

“Why don’t you contact Skyler? Talking to him might be exactly what you need. I’m sure he understands what you both went through better than anyone.”

“I don’t want you leaving me for him,” Levi snaps, rather incongruously.What?

“Why on earth would you even think that, Levi?” I have to admit, the guy is a major hottie, and I couldn’t help but notice how attractive and polite he was whenever we’ve spoken. But seriously? Levi is worried I’d leave him for his best friend? Iwrap an arm around him and lay my head on his shoulder. “I loveyou, Levi,” I tell him.

“I know you do. So maybe you should just fuck him, since that’s all you seem to want lately.”

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