Joy and Tiers by Mary Crawford

worst thing is coping with the death of the other members of my unit. They were under my command, and I was responsible for them. They died because of decisions I made that day, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. I think that changed me probably more than anything else.” 
    “I know that you laid your life on the line as a soldier, but it’s still on the line every day as a law enforcement officer,” Heather continues. “I think if I had gone through what you went through, I would be curled up in my bed like a pill bug and never want to leave it. The fact that you still go out and serve the people every day is astonishing to me, and I respect you so much for it.” 
    I swallow hard and shift in my chair. I fight the urge to run from her gentle, well-meaning words as they continue to rain down. They’re meant to be as soothing as a summer rain, but they burn like acid. They make me flinch.
     “I’ve been told by other soldiers,” she continues gently. “There’s a cost of war and if you did your best, it’s part of the risk,” she goes on, with a look of sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sure they don’t blame you.”
    I hate the pity. Everyone gets the same look. In the space of half a conversation, I’m suddenly half a man. If it’s bad for me, I can only imagine what it’s like for the driver of that convoy, Jason Fletcher. He came out of the ordeal as a double amputee. Trevor Black ended up maimed too.
    “I wish it were that easy,” I answer in a harsh whisper. “You didn’t see those guys when they died. I held one kid, barely old enough to shave while he drew his last breath. Another guy in my unit was two frickin’ days from retirement. His daughter was going to have a baby. Their lives were lost because I trusted the wrong people. I can never take that back.”
    “Did you make that decision all by yourself?” Heather asks softly. “I didn’t think the military worked that way. Don’t you decide things in duplicate and triplicate?”
    “Well, yes; there is that. The Army specializes in redundancy. No, I didn’t make the decision alone. You can’t take a piss without paperwork. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was responsible for those men.”
    Heather scoots back her chair, walks over to me, and gives me a gentle hug, resting her cheek against my shoulder. “I’m sorry you feel that way. It must be a terrible burden to carry. However, I know you to be a decent guy, and I’m sure you didn’t put your men in harm’s way on purpose. I’m sure they knew that too,” she murmurs, her words muffled by the corduroy fabric of my shirt.
    “Thanks so much for saying that. It’s just something I need to work through.” I say, wrapping my arms around her and giving her a gentle hug.
    “Are you ready for lunch?” I ask, more than ready to change the topic to happier things. “The guy at the Greek Deli said I bought the best stuff on his menu. I’m eager to see if you agree.”
    “It looks phenomenal, and I’m eager to try it. How did you know that gyros are my favorite food?” she asks, as she opens each container to examine the contents.
    “Honestly, I didn’t,” I admit. “It was just a lucky guess.”
    “Well, you should go buy a lottery ticket because you were spot on.”
     

     
    “We’re going to do what?” Heather asks, alarm making her voice squeak at the end of her sentences. “That’s close enough for the horses to see us.” 
     “Well, I doubt that they’ll be keeping score,” I grin. “You can still cheat at croquet if you want to. They won’t tell on you.”
    “Can you get them off of me if they decide to attack?” she asks. Her panic is setting in.
    I smother a laugh and reassure her, “Heather, I’ve been leading horses around since I was about four years old. There isn’t a horse I can’t handle. If one of them got a wild hair up their butt and decides to do something totally out of character, I can handle it. I