Dani walked along the beach after the first session of the retreat. It wasn’t warm enough for swimming, and the brisk breeze whipped her long hair back from her face as she followed the wave line. Waves crept close to her sneaker clad toes and then rushed back to join the swirling mass of ocean beyond, mirroring the motion of her thoughts. So many ideas were swirling in her mind. As soon as one would surface, she would ponder it a moment before it receded and another took its place.
I feel lost. What do I want to be when I grow up? What am I qualified to do? Do I want just another job or do I want to do something I’m passionate about? What else do I want in my life besides work? A man? A family? Something else? What would that be? Where do I begin? Get a life. Build a life. I’m certainly going to try.
Overwhelmed, she climbed the short cliff carved by waves and time and found a dry spot to sit among the tide pools. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her mind, breathing deeply, pushing any stray thoughts away until her pulse calmed and anxiety flowed away. She carefully reviewed the morning session, looking for clues.
Jamie had paired her up with Angela, a stay at home mom who was trying to find a path now that her children were away at college. Their task was to listen to each other explain their frustrations and help mirror it back to clarify what was making them unhappy.
“So, you’re an empty nester, huh?” Dani asked.
“Emphasis on empty. I gave up working when baby number two came along. My whole life revolved around taking care of the kids and the house and my husband. I know we’re supposed to be all liberated, but honestly, I loved that life. That was my choice. I loved being the driving force for our family life. Now that’s gone, and I just feel empty.”
“I can’t say that I know how it feels to have children and see them move out, but I can definitely relate. I was the primary caretaker for my Aunt Helen. I left my job in Houston to move up here and help her out. She passed away from cancer a few weeks ago, and I feel empty without someone to take care of. It’s like I’m treading water in the pool, just waiting for a reason to swim.”
“Well, it seems like we have that in common. I hate feeling useless. I keep thinking I should do something that I enjoy, but it’s been so long since I got to do something just for me that I have no idea what I like any more.”
“I hear you saying that you want to do something you love and something useful, but that you haven’t had time to find your passions outside of raising your family.”
“That about sums it up. If I’m hearing you right, you enjoy being helpful, too. And that you are looking for a new avenue to utilize your care-taking talents.”
Figuring out what she wanted to change was the easy part. The next step was more difficult. By being clear about what things she was searching for, she could set detailed plans to attain it.
“Your homework,” Jamie had said over the chatter, “is to describe your ideal outcomes. Now that you know the need you are trying to fill, think about what it might take to fill it. Instead of immediately focusing on, ‘What do I want to do?’ visualize how you feel, what drives you, fulfills you. How would you feel ideally at work? What do you want to get from your work, aside from a paycheck? When you picture yourself happy, what is making you feel that way? Take notes in your journals and we will share when I see you tomorrow.”
Dani opened her eyes and studied the tide pool nearest to her. She saw barnacles, small seaweeds, an anemone, and a tiny crab in the small pool of seawater trapped up on the rock. This miniature habitat, trapped by circumstance and the caprice of a wave, would have to survive together until the next high tide released them from their confinement. For the mobile animals, this was a chance to eat in a calm environment before heading back out into the buffeting waves. The fixed elements depended on the nutrients washed into the puddle on the tide, replenished daily. It amazed her to see how this odd fusion of creatures, came together in endless combinations, and managed to coexist and meet their needs for life, day after day.
But wasn’t that what life was about? Finding a way to work and live together with the people fate threw your way? Building relationships that fulfilled your needs until the next wave came along and shook things up? She mourned the wave that took Aunt Helen away, but still found herself oddly optimistic about what the next wave had brought in.
Feeling a little shaken herself, Dani turned her gaze out to the ocean and picked up her phone. Before she registered her intent, her fingers had dialed. Nick answered on the second ring.
“Hi. Have you got a minute?”
“Sure, Dani. What's up?”
“I need help with my homework.”
“Oh, God. It's not calculus, is it?”
“No, just deep life questions.”
“Fire away. I’ll do my best.”
“I’m supposed to figure out what will fulfill me in a new career? What about it would make me happy?”
“And what was your old career?”
“Accounting. I was good with numbers and fell into it, but I can't say I had a driving passion for it.”
“Does anyone have a driving passion for accounting?” Nick quipped, pulling a laugh from her.
“You'd be surprised. There's a lot of satisfaction in a balanced spreadsheet for some people. But not enough for me to go back. If I get to start over, I want to do something else.”
“OK, well, what did you like about it?”
“I loved the challenge of constantly learning new things, new rules, new procedures, and making the numbers behave.”
“OK, so new challenges and following the rules. Are you sure? I totally had you pegged as a rebel.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“The problem I see is that you are a bright and well educated woman. You have too many options to choose from if you look at this as a career search. What is going to make this a calling? What will make it special to you?”
“The satisfaction of doing something well, an opportunity to learn new things and try new skills, avoiding boredom…” she twirled her pen above the doodles framing her notes.
“You can get all of that from a crossword puzzle.”
“I just want to be useful, helpful. I want to make difference in someone's life.” Saying the words aloud was powerful. That was a valid motivation. She found tremendous satisfaction in helping her aunt and their community in the building. Helping others, while challenging herself to continue to learn and grow and succeed, was a worthwhile reason to work.
“I can’t think of any better reason to go to work in the morning than to make someone’s life better. And after all, helping people seems to be firmly in your wheelhouse. You’ve helped everyone in this building at one time or other. As they’ve made sure to tell me when they casually dropped by. All of them. Some, twice.”
“Oh goodness. Inundated, are you? They mean well. So, I am going to be a helper. Now if I can just figure out what I can do, and who I can do it for, I’ll be all set.” Dani groaned over the Herculean task.
“Hey, have a little faith. Just look how much better my life is, and I’ve only known you a few days.”
“You think I've made your life better?” she shyly probed.
The other end of the line went quiet for a moment, before Nick finally replied. “You have no idea.”
The silence on the line returned, and Dani wanted nothing more than for him to keep talking. She enjoyed the deep rumble of his voice melding with the rich sound of the ocean waves breaking, soothing her jittery nerves. She definitely wanted to know more about how she’d made him feel better. But she remembered their friendship vow, and she let the comment pass, even though it went against every instinct.
“That must have been a really excellent batch of chocolate chip cookies,” she teased. Nick’s laughter rolled over the line.
“They were OK. Something was a little off. I think you should try another batch when you get home, just to make sure your recipe is right.”
“Nice try. You only get one plate of welcome cookies per move.”
“Damn. Well, it was worth a shot. Did you get what you needed for your homework?”
“Yeah, I think I did. Thanks, Nick. Talking it all out really helped.”
“I accept payment for homework help in the form of brownies or pies…”
“Fair enough. I’ll hook you up when I get home. Have a good night.”
“You too, Dani. Feel free to call back if you need any more homework help. I’m happy to work for food.”
She hung up the phone laughing. Grateful for the mood boost and his help in clarifying her goals, she stood and brushed the sand from her seat. The tide was coming in, and soon her tide pool friends would be submerged for the night. She gathered herself and began the hike back to the retreat. At peace with her recent revelation, she let her mind rest and simply enjoyed the beauty of the redwoods surrounding her.
Saturday evening, Nick was settled on his couch watching the latest comedy special on cable, when a knock on his door interrupted his solitude. He peered through the peephole and saw Lt. Colonel Jones and Mrs. Betancourt standing outside in the hallway. He shut off the television and opened the door.
“Good evening, Nick. We saw your car parked outside and took a guess that you were home. If you don’t have any prior engagements, we’d love you to join us for dinner tonight.” Mrs. Betancourt looked up at him, eyes full of hope.
“Nothing fancy, son. Just a walk down to the local Chinese restaurant,” the retired army man added.
Nick was wary for a moment. This invitation would require leaving his apartment, walking down the street, sitting exposed in a restaurant for upwards of an hour. So many potential triggers. The hair on the back of his neck stood up with tension. He took a deep breath. He reminded himself that he’d been feeling pretty good all day, especially after unloading to Jack that morning. He could consider this a test. He wouldn’t be going that far from home if he needed to get back quickly. He told himself he didn’t want this pair walking anywhere on their own and a man needed to eat after all, but the truth was he’d been feeling lonely and isolated cooped up in his too-quiet apartment. Here was a perfect opportunity to get out for a bit. He’d need to know the local Chinese take-out place at any rate. Evaluating his options, Nick decided that the show was worth missing.
As he struggled with his decision, his cell phone rang in his pocket. “Excuse me a moment.” He glanced at the display and answered it when he saw Seth’s crazy mug shot smiling up at him.
“Hey man, how’s it going?”
“Great! I met a couple of my neighbors, and we’re going out for drinks tonight. You game?”
Just the thought of hitting a bar and trying to do small talk with women had the butterflies he’d suppressed begin fluttering in his stomach again. All of the potential triggers in that situation sent a shudder down his spine. Given his options, he’d take the elderly couple and Chinese cuisine in a heartbeat.
“Actually, I met some of my neighbors, too. We’re on our way out to dinner now. Maybe another time?”
“You lucky shit! You hooked up with the hottie across the hall didn’t you? Well, that didn’t take long! Alright, I won’t hound you tonight, but we should hang out soon.”
“Sure, man. Soon. Gotta run.” Nick didn’t bother to correct his friend’s assumption. After all he had met the hottie across the hall, and though he wasn’t going out to dinner with her tonight, he had eaten with her before. Explaining would only muddy the water and end up with Seth pushing him harder to come out. His justifications didn’t ease the feeling that he’d just lied to his best friend, but he’d rather not explain that he preferred spending time with a couple of 90 year olds than with fun single people his own age. He disconnected the call and dropped the phone into the pocket of his shorts. He turned back towards the door and the two beaming seniors waiting for him who had clearly overheard his conversation.
“I’m starving. Shall we?” he asked locking his door behind him.
The Golden Dragon was a five-block walk, and Nick kept a careful watch on his companions. The older couple seemed to manage it fine, though at a snail’s pace. They clearly weren’t letting anything stop them from getting out and about. Nick took advantage of the slower pace to continuously scan his perimeters and avoid being surprised at corners and alleyways. Rooftops, windows shaded by blinds, dumpsters, every potential threat seemed magnified, and he jumped at any unexpected movement. He’d thought he was hiding it well, walking behind them. But Mrs. B. and the Colonel pulled him up between them after two blocks, and pointed out various local landmarks and shops along the way. They greeted several other pedestrians as they made their way to the restaurant, and pulled Nick into the conversation.
“We are right here with you, Nick. You are safe.” Mrs. B. patted his arm with her tiny hand and he felt remarkably comforted. Comfort was not something Nick usually felt in the company of strangers, and yet with this unlikely duo he felt as if he were walking down the street with grandparents he’d known his entire life. The fact that he hadn’t known his own grandparents at all made the feeling all the more unique.
Even the hostess at the Golden Dragon greeted them warmly.
“Colonel! Mrs. B.! It is so good to see you." A small Asian woman came from behind the hostess stand.
“Mrs. Lin, this is our new friend, Nick.”
"A friend of yours is a friend of mine. It is a pleasure to meet you. You know, these two kept us in business when we first opened this location. We have been friends a long time. Come, I have your table for you."
Nick followed to a square table in the back of the room. With the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention, his eyes flicked to every corner of the restaurant, and he could feel his shoulders creeping up towards his ears. Mrs. B. sat on one side of the square table for four facing the kitchens on an angle, and William sat on the other. Nick chose the seat facing the door, next to the Colonel.
Mrs. B. smiled at him. “My Charlie had a thing about that, too. I thought he would give himself whiplash whenever we’d enter a room. He’d always request a seat in a back corner of the restaurant. At first I thought he was being romantic, until he panicked one night in a packed restaurant, and we had to leave. I asked him what the problem was, and he explained all the back booths were taken and he couldn’t sit for an hour exposed in the middle of the floor. So much for my budding romantic. We went for fast food all dressed up that night.” She smiled, clearly at peace with the memories left by her late husband.
“I still need to sit where I can see the exits, too,” said the Colonel with a smile. “I get the creepy crawlies on the back of my neck when I can’t see the door.” Nick grimaced as he realized that he wasn’t hiding his anxiety as well as he thought.
Just then, their waiter came to take their order. He introduced himself as Ben Chu, and shook Nick’s hand. He chatted casually with the older couple and updated them on the basketball career of his sixth grade daughter, before asking, “The usual or something different tonight for your guest?”
“Let’s go all out tonight and eat like kings! I’m sure Nick here will be able to put a dent in whatever Chef Lin feels like making for us. We’ll leave it up to him. Unless you have any favorites?”
“Well, what is your usual?”
“One order of combination fried rice, and two egg rolls.” Kathleen said with a smile. “It’s just enough for the two of us, but I think we’ll need something more substantial tonight.”
“Let’s build on that, and see what else Chef Lin has in store for us!” Game for an adventure, Nick hoped that he wouldn’t later regret the impulse. As the waiter left them, Nick asked the question that had been turning in the back of his mind since he’d opened his door.
“Did Dani ask you to talk to me?”
“No, dear, she didn’t. We have eyes and experience. We put two and two together on our own. How bad is it?” Mrs. B.’s gentle voice invited confidences, and promised discretion.
Grimacing, Nick pondered how much to tell them. He didn’t feel like he could evade the question completely, since they had already guessed and were looking him with such knowing eyes. Given that those eyes also showed compassion without a hint of pity, he opted for the truth.
“Not great. Panic attacks, nightmares, anxiety. It’s not anything special.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong, son.” The Colonel cut him off. “It is special, and it’s important, because it’s happening to you. Just because it’s a common reaction for soldiers just back from the front doesn’t lessen the impact in your life or the importance in getting some help. Back in my day, we called it shell shock and a lot of good men suffered for a long time because they didn’t know what was wrong or how to fix it.” The Colonel's matter of fact tone brooked no argument.
“We hope that you’re able to get the help you need, for your sake. I was able to help my Charlie through it by sheer luck, but professionals are so much more knowledgeable these days. Oh look! He did the Peking duck! You’re in for a treat, Nick. Chef Lin only does the duck a few times a year.”
Ben began bringing dishes laden with the house specialties to the table. Nick discreetly slid him a credit card. He would eat for the week off these leftovers. His new neighbors had adopted him and were determined to help him out. He appreciated the effort but he could better afford the meal than they could. He was smiling at their banter, and that surprised him. By all rights, he should be annoyed at their interference. Whenever any of his army buddies tried to give him advice on any subject, he either snapped at them or clammed up. What was different?
“So, Nick, tell us about your family.” Mrs. B. broke into his musings.
Caught off guard, he flippantly replied, “There’s not much to tell.”
An expectant pause followed as the couple waited for an explanation. Maybe that was it, that steady quiet patience that made him spill his guts. Nick sighed and decided, in for a penny, in for a pound.
“My parents were both only children, and my grandparents passed away before I was born.”
“Are your parents close?”
“No. I never knew my dad. He knocked her up and never looked back. It was just me and Mom growing up. And then she died of breast cancer when I was sixteen.”
“Oh, you poor boy! What did you do?”
“I survived. I’d been the man of the house for a long time, so I knew how to take care of myself. My buddy, Chuck’s family let me crash on their couch, applied to be my foster parents so I could stay and finish high school.”
He trailed off, remembering those bittersweet days. Chuck's dad did home remodeling and custom carpentry built-ins. Nick had pitched in with the family business to help earn his keep. He’d sanded and stained until his hands were permanently maple toned. He’d even gotten a chance to learn to use the power tools in the workshop tucked away in the basement near his bedroom. He’d had access to wood whenever he needed to clear his head. It had been an unexpected gift at a time in his life when gifts were scarce. He'd had peace and stability in his grasp, but then high school had ended and real life had reared its ugly head.
“What brought you into the army, son?”
“I joined ROTC out of high school, so I could afford to go to college. I learned how to trust my instincts and how to be a leader. I graduated with degrees in political science and military history. Once I started my career in the army, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. My unit became my family.”
His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he remembered the pain of losing yet another member of his “family.”
“When I let my unit down, I knew it was time to get out.”
The older couple listened to every word, offering silent support without pity. He was grateful. He didn’t think he could stand it if they felt sorry for him. Was this what extended family felt like? He had imagined grandparents at Christmas as a kid, bringing cookies and presents. He shifted the image to include Chinese food and kind smiles. It still fit.
Mrs. B. reached over to rest her slim wrinkled hand atop his larger brown and weathered one. “Nick, I am glad that you decided to share your story with us. I know tough times can be hard to talk about. We have been there, and we are here to remember. You’ve got us now, if you want us.”
Although Nick had picked the unassuming building by Google search, he suspected that fate had played a hand in landing him smack dab in the middle of his very own vet support group. Instead of feeling smothered and overwhelmed by their interest though, he was strangely comforted.
The conversation turned to favorite meals abroad. As the older couple reminisced about their culinary adventures in the other countries they’d lived in or visited, Nick processed their well-meaning nudges while eating some of the best Peking duck he’d ever had.
He’d gone to one dinner and walked away with so much more than a full belly. A concerned uncle, caring grandparents, a bossy mother hen…and all because of Dani. She was the thread that held this web together. A warm flood of…gratitude swept through him. Did she know her impact? Did she do this for everyone in the building? Leave it up to Fate to hand him everything he’d ever wanted, wrapped up in a bow, and then tell him he could look but not touch. Fate could be a real bitch sometimes.
Nick rejoined the conversation, sharing his memory of his first meal in Germany on the way home from his first tour in Afghanistan. The good food and easy conversation helped him regain some balance and enjoy the evening. He decided that as soon as he got up in the morning, he’d check out the sites Dani had left for him. She had taken her offer to help him seriously. He should do the same. Obviously it was time, if perfect strangers were able to see he needed help. With the surprising support system he’d fallen into, he grasped a flicker of hope that he might actually beat this. Remembering Dani’s sunny smile and calm support, Nick felt a bit of the sadness pull back. He realized it was because he believed her. For the first time in a long time, he believed he’d get better. He believed he could beat this.
As he walked back to the apartment, flush with his new sense of optimism, he heard a child crying. He looked around trying to locate the source of the sound. Mrs. B. and the Colonel paused as well, casting him a curious glance.
"Can't you hear it?”
“Hear what, Nick?”
“The kid crying.” He took a few deep breaths to try and steady his nerves. His heart wanted to race out of his chest. He reminded himself that he wasn't in Iraq any more and that he was not going to walk into an IED attack on a street corner in Menlo Park. With his eyes closed, he was able to better focus on the sound and turned towards the alley. He could do this. He willed the tingling in his arms to go away. “Wait for me a minute. Please?"
"Sure, son. We'll be right here."
Nick followed the sound down the alley to a trash bin behind a restaurant. Cautiously peeking around the edge of the bin, his mind flashed to gruesome images of war, filling in horrible reasons that a child might be crying. He reached for his sidearm, and found the space at his hip empty. Nick blinked rapidly to clear his thoughts and focused on the tiny wiggling body making that pitiful noise. Not a child, a dog with his head stuck inside an old cardboard delivery box. Thank God.
He approached the pup carefully, speaking softly and letting the pup know everything he was doing. He lifted the dog into his lap and pulled the cardboard aside so he could wriggle his head back out.
"Well, what's your name, little guy?”
The only response Nick got was a frenzied attempt to lick his face.
“Nope! Not until we've gotten you cleaned up. No collar, huh? You seem pretty comfortable with humans. I bet someone is missing you."
Picking up the small dog, Nick carried him back to the sidewalk where his new friends were waiting.
"This little guy had his head stuck in some trash. I'm going to take him home and get him cleaned up. Maybe you guys know a vet where I could check and see if he's chipped?"
"Sure. There's one I use for my cats not too far from here. You can take him by in the morning.”
“Looks like we’re having a sleepover, Taco.” Nick took stock of his reaction, and was proud that he’d held it together. He’d been close to a meltdown, but he’d pulled himself through it and rescued this dog. Maybe he wasn’t as bad off as he’d thought.
“Taco?”
“Well, he's small and likely part Chihuahua mix. We found him behind a Mexican restaurant. It seems to fit. We’ll find out your real name in the morning." Nick cradled the tiny dog in his strong arms as carefully as baby, but as firmly as a football, since the little guy really wanted to show his appreciation with chin kisses that smelled like rotten meat.
“Ugh. Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”