Page 32 of Deathtoll
“Is that where you were stationed?”
He shook his head. “Fort Bragg.”
“How many tours?”
“Three. Two in Iraq, one in Afghanistan. Joined at eighteen, deployed right after, back-to-back.”
“Thank you for your service. We are honored to have you here.”
He didn’t respond, just watched her with a quiet intensity as she unlocked her office.
Three patients were gabbing at the end of the hallway, two men and a woman. The woman laughed loudly at something. One of the guys patted her on the shoulder. Ian turned his back to them and shook his head, as if the loud chatter was a swarm of flies buzzing around his ears.
“Mind if I close the door?” he asked.
“Of course not.”
Kate hung up her coat and bag, then dropped her phone onto her desk. She’d set aside an hour for paperwork that morning, so she didn’t have an appointment right away. She could afford to spend some time with Ian. He’d come this far; she didn’t want him to change his mind and leave.
“I’m glad you’re here. I think sometimes soldiers find it difficult to ask for help. You’re supposed to be strong, the strongest, warriors. You’re supposed to be defending others.” She kept smiling. “But asking for help is not an admission of weakness. Just the opposite.”
She turned to her pod coffeemaker that sat next to the printer. Sometimes she didn’t have enough time to run to the cafeteria for a cup between patients, so she finally bought herself a machine. “How about coffee? I only have one kind, breakfast blend. Is that all right?”
“Yeah.” He stepped over to the treatment room to peek in.
She popped in a pod, then filled the water reservoir and set one of her mugs under the spout. While she waited for it to be filled, she said, “Feel free to sit anywhere you’d like.”
She had two visitor’s chairs in her office, although she only ever had one patient in there at a time. She had two chairs because sometimes just offering people a choice set them at ease, made them feel as if they were in control.
“Sugar and cream? Powdered creamer, actually.” She held up the box. “I’ve been thinking about buying one of those small dorm fridges, but I haven’t had a chance yet.”
“Black.” He paced the small room instead of sitting.
Kate set the mug on his side of her desk, then popped in a pod for herself. “You’ll like Hope Hill. We do pretty good work here. Okay, I might be biased.” She gave an easy laugh as she bent down to plug in her laptop. “How much do you know about our programs?”
He clenched his jaw, unclenched it, the muscles in his cheeks tightening, then relaxing. He was watching her every move, monitoring every foot of space around them, as if expecting a surprise attack to materialize from thin air. “Saw people talking about it in an online vet group.”
“Then you probably know we use nontraditional therapies in addition to traditional methods. Massage therapy, acupuncture, reflexology, ecotherapy, the works. Would you be open to something like that?”
He shrugged again. “A couple of guys online swore you helped.”
“I’m glad. It’s nice to know people leave here feeling healed.” She smiled, but he didn’t smile back.
Desperation filled his eyes, his face too tight, his muscles too tense for just a basic conversation.
Kate turned her back on the coffee, giving Ian her full attention. “All right. Let’s look at your paperwork.”
“I don’t have any.”
His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides. He was close enough to grab her across the desk, although she didn’t think he would. But maybe because of his size, she felt him looming, and she wished he would sit down and calm down instead of getting visibly worked up.
Kate calmed her own speeding heart first, seamlessly moving into yoga breaths, to change the energy in the room.Deescalate. Make him feel safe.“No problem. We can just talk. Like I said, Murph is the paperwork guy anyhow.”
Ian’s chest heaved as if he’d been running. He stared at her for an uncomfortably long moment, then went back to pacing, but kept his eyes on her. “All everybody ever cares about is the paperwork and the damn VA.”
“We care about our patients. I promise you that. But here’s the thing. You know how healthcare works,” Kate said in the most apologetic tone possible. “It’s layers of bureaucracy on top of bureaucracy. Places like this? We have to have a referral.”
When he stepped toward her again, she hurried to add, “If you don’t have the papers with you, I can get that done right now. Just takes a phone call.” She nodded toward her phone, not quite daring to reach for it. “What do you think? Then we can move on to the important stuff.”
