Page 30 of Doing Life

He hooted. “Tell me about it.”

“You got this. Stanley, you want another beer?”

“Please.” The voice that answered was deep and creaking like an old gate. That sounded painful.

Stanley had been devastated. Half of the man’s face looked like it had been fucking melted and then patched back together with a trowel. It was tough as hell not to stare, but he also didn’t want anybody to think he was avoiding the man. “God, this is hard,” he admitted in a whisper.

Lance nodded as if he got it, one hundred percent. “Stanley’s new. You’re the first person that we’ve invited over. I trust you.”

His eyes went wide. “No pressure.”

“You’re a good guy; you’ll be fine.”

God, he hoped so. He had Lance’s trust. He wasn’t going to lose it.

They managed to get two iced teas and a beer wrangled,and they headed back out to the front room. He handed Stanley the beer with a nod. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Stanley met his gaze, those eyes a bright, clear green. “I know what it looks like…”

“It looks sort of like you melted. I’m proud that you’re out here. I don’t think I would be.” It was a stupid thing to say, maybe, but it was the truth. So he said it. “What are we watching?”

“The Hallmark Channel.”

Sloan blinked at Brick. “I’m sorry—what?”

Dan, the house mother, nodded to him, grinning wide. “It’s the perfect thing. No explosions. No fights. Easy enough to follow for those of us who can’t see or hear very well. When we’re all together this is simple.”

“You have to meet people where they are, right man?” Chris winked at him. “Everybody’s gotta meet where they are.”

“Rock on. Somebody catch me up so that I know what I’m dealing with here.” When in Rome and all, right?

It turned out it was a cute, silly little murder mystery with this lady who was like a professional dog walker or something?

By the end, they were all laughing as they guessed who did it.

It surprised him not at all that Lance was the one who got the bad guy right.

By the time they were done with the movie, the pizza was there, and they were all a little easier in their skins.

Sloan was going to have to get the Hallmark Channel because he could watch this at night when he couldn’t sleep and not have to worry about explosions or gunfire waking him up. He loved it.

Lance was at ease with these guys, and Sloan got it. Got why the Rocking W folks were doing these house rentals. Thecamaraderie was real, and no one had to worry that someone would be wigged out by what they looked like.

There was way more laughter than he’d expected, and Sloan realized how weird it was to be among civilians all the time. Even for him.

“Do you all think it ever gets easier?” he asked. “Out on the economy, I mean.”

Dan nodded to him. “It does. It takes a long time though. I wasn’t in long—six years, and I’ve been out for ten. I have to say it feels normal now. But I work with military folks all the time. Lots of Army. Some Marines. Had a couple of sailors, a few airmen, so I’m surrounded. But yeah, it does get easier.”

“So do the dreams.” Brick stared at him, dead on. “So do the dreams.”

Sloan glanced at Lance. Surely Lance hadn’t said anything. That wasn’t for public consumption.

Brick shook his head. “Nobody said anything, man. I do know that you were behind Lance here. And I do know that you lost people, and you saw shit.” Brick gave him a shit-eating grin. “Lance here, now. He can’t say that.”

“Oh, you are a fucker,” Lance shot back, those poor eyes rolling like dice. “You know, I can see a little bit on the edges. But I don’t remember what happened. I remember a flash and that’s it. Then I remember waking up into hell.”

“I remember it all,” Stanley croaked. “I swear to God, I remember every second. I just want to not remember.”

---