The Great Escape: Kevin

{I can see it in your eyes—I know you too well. You know I can tell you’re hiding something inside.}

When I woke again, the lamp was dimmed in the room. Kevin was sitting beside me in the chair, turning over the washcloth for probably the umpteenth time.

Denise had been right about him being worried. “Kevin.”

“Right here, Key.”  I turned to look at the clock, then back at him. It was almost midnight and yet he was still sitting beside me. The thought that he was being so gentle, almost made me cry—not because it surprised me, but it made me feel even worse not telling him about taking the pills.

It reminded me of the first time. Kevin had a few days off after he returned home from Kosovo. Like usual, he walked into the bathroom with a question about Sophie, only to see me popping pills and the orange bottle sitting on the counter.

Now, I could only swallow hard at the memory. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m not—”

“What can I do?” He literally looked like he would hop up from his chair, and carry me like a knight would carry his princess to safety. It made my stomach knot up— the words on the tip of my tongue.

“You can forgive me.” My words were filled with thick emotion. It was hard to tell if it was the sickness talking right now, or me. All I knew was that I needed the strength to get the words out.

 Even in the dark, I could see the lines crease on his forehead; his expression changing from worried to perplexing.  “I can’t forgive you for something that I don’t know about. What are you not telling me?”

My mouth felt dry all the sudden as I pointed over to the dresser. “In the bottom drawer, tell me what you see.”

He looked at me warily. “Jackie—”

“Just do it.” I was near tears and I was afraid that if he pushed even more, I was going to lose it right there. I gave him the most convincing stare until he reluctantly moved from his chair over to the dresser.

His hand slowly rummaged through the drawer, until his actions slowed. I closed my eyes and listened to the silence—until he spoke again. He returned with an empty pill bottle in his hand. “How many did you take? “

“It’s not like that—”

“Then what’s it like, Jackie?” His jaw was tightened, as he held the bottle; glancing at as if it were poisonous. “Is this the reason why you didn’t want to go to the hospital?”

I sat up with uneasiness, more in irritation than I could accomplish lying down. “I’m meeting with an off-base doctor.”

“An off-base doctor?” He repeated, almost incredulously. “Jackie, why didn’t you tell me? You know what we’ve been through this once already—“

Honestly, I didn’t want to be reminded, and just remembering made me even more irritated. “I know!” I pushed a little too harshly, and then softened as I looked into his eyes. “I took them to numb the pain and anxiety when you’re deployed; to block out the fact that we’re far away from our kids, and sometimes it just me in this big empty house.”

Walking over to the bed, he sat down on the chair and ran his hands over his face. The room was completely silent, but only for a moment while he took everything in.

“You’re my rock, Jackie. I don’t think I could ever tell you that enough.  Everything you do, and everything you put up with. You practically raised our children alone, and have always kept the house together, no matter where we are.”

A tear slipped down my cheek. “I needed to hear that.” I whispered, so only he could hear it: as we weren’t the only ones in the room. Rounding the bed, he sat down beside me and wrapped his arm around me.

With a yawn, I let my head rest against his shoulder. I stared into the darkness for the longest time, when he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. My hand found his and I squeezed it, before I nuzzled in and closed my eyes.

I felt so comfortable that I didn’t want to open my eyes, but did anyway. The lamp was still dimmed, and I was a little disappointed that it had only been a couple hours since falling asleep.  

Kevin was leaning against the bed post, eyes closed. I gazed at the orange pill bottle and sighed, before quietly shutting the door behind me.  My movements were slow and deliberate as I walked down to the kitchen.

The light flickered on, illuminating the room. Running my fingers through my hair, I quickly washed my hands and decided to make some toast.  I wasn’t sure that I would be able to eat much of it, but it was worth a try.

I took it plain, sitting down at the table. I took careful bites and chewed until the toast was half gone. By time that I was finished it was now three A.M., and I was throwing the rest of my food into the trash.

Turning off the kitchen light after putting my dishes in the sink, I went into the living room and curled up with a good book and blanket—which killed another couple hours. I placed the book on the coffee table, after I could no longer read the words in front of me.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up to the sun shining through the window. I sat up and felt the house’s silence. Relief came first; then a slight sadness washed over me as I realized that today was a new day, and everything from the night before felt like a dream.

 I knew it hadn’t when I saw that I was still lying on the couch—the book that I had been reading was still there on the coffee table. The only thing that was missing was Kevin.

Peering into the kitchen, it was empty. My heart sank a little as I wandered upstairs to the bedroom—also empty. Then I peered into the bathroom and I saw Kevin shaving in the sink.

I walked into the bathroom; wrapping my arms around him, taking in his scent of aftershave and soap. At nine o’clock in the morning, I definitely had expected him to be at work.

“Morning.” I greeted, peering curiously over his shoulder.

“I woke up to find you gone. How’d you sleep?”

Nuzzling at him apologetically, I gave him a smile. “I woke up around two, so I went down to the kitchen and ate some toast—then read for a little while.”

“You do look like you’re feeling better.”

“A little. But I’m ready to do something.”

“You can do something.”

”What did you have in mind?” Letting my chin rest on his shoulder, I watched his expression changed in the mirror.

“You can go with me to your doctor’s appointment.” I frowned slightly as he turned around to feel my forehead. “Just what I thought—you’re still feverish.”

“Kevin—”

“Ah. No buts. Tell me right now, how long would you like to be feverish and stuck in this house? Pretty soon you’re going to be hunting around for your binder and making phone calls.”

“Is this about last night?”

“This about you not getting any better.”

“It’s only been a day.”

He drained all the water out of the sink, as it sucked in a whirlwind down the pipes. “You’re just lucky that Denise came over when she did. I would have taken you sooner, but you were protesting up a storm. I forgot how you get when you don’t feel well.”

As I retreated back into the bedroom, I called over my shoulder, “Oh, it’s not over yet.”