Page 108 of Sloane
“Nope. We have rules for a reason. It’s all good.”
Millie burped, and I felt my back instantly get wet while the smell of spit-up permeated my nose, effectively ending that conversation.
Chapter Forty
Sloane
“I want to go home,” I grumbled for what felt like the millionth time.
Being a major pain in the ass had worked in Germany. They’d sent me back to the States the second I’d been able to travel. The doctors at the Army’s Burn Center at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, however, were a bit more stubborn about giving in to my demands. These army guys didn’t give a shit about my rank in the Marines.
The number of surgeries I’d gone through in the last nine months were too numerous to count, and the pain could be unbearable on my bad days, but I was alive.
“One of the lucky ones”, I was told on more than one occasion.
It took me a long time to believe that was true.
Shawn O’Brien, my second lieutenant, hadn’t been so lucky. And I hadn’t even been able to go to his funeral. I knew that would bother me forever. I should have been there to pay my respects.
But I’d come to realize that I could honor my fellow Marine’s life by living mine to the fullest. And that started with going home.
I’d been verbalizing my desire—a lot. To the point I was purposefully becoming annoying. But I was ready to get back to my new semblance of normalcy in San Diego. Although I wasn’t sure what that would even look like.
One thing I did know, I had some amends to make.
“Other than the obvious physical therapy for your prosthetic, you’re in for more surgeries,” the doctor warned me.
“As long as I can go home afterward and not have to sit in a hospital room, I don’t care.”
“That’s part of the problem, Sloane,” Missy, the VA social worker chimed in. “You don’t have a home to go to yet.”
She was right. Since I hadn’t known how long my deployment would be, I’d put all my things in storage and hadn’t renewed the lease for my condo. Finding a place after returning from long deployments had been easy enough in the past, but this time I knew I was going to need assistance.
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be helping me with?”
“Since you’re not interested in the Recovery Coordination Program, it’s not that easy. I’ve put some calls in but haven’t had any luck finding you a place suitable for your condition.”
My condition. My condition was I was a fucking Marine.
Period.
End of story.
I might be a little broken right now, but I’d been putting my time in so someday soon I wouldn’t have to be dependent on anyone.
“Can’t I just crash at a hotel until something becomes available?”
“You can’t live by yourself, Sloane. Not yet. And certainly not in a hotel.” Missy’s phone beeped. “Excuse me a moment.”
After she left the room, the grey-haired doctor said quietly, “I’m sorry, Captain.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“It’d be different if you had a wife or roommate who could help you at home and bring you to your appointments,” Dr. Noland said.
“Like I’d want to saddle a wife with this.”
“Have you thought about staying with your parents?”