In with the New Baby

“Look, if you don’t want to be serious…” she starts to say.

“I do,” I insist.

“Well, I think it’s best if we just wait a while so you can make these decisions. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t even care what decisions you make but if we’re going to be anything serious, you should at least feel comfortable telling me about those decisions. And letting me into your life and what’s going on, you know?”

“I understand.”

I don’t know what else to say. She’s right – I shouldn’t toy with her heart. A big part of me wants to give up everything for her. My fighting career. My inhibitions about going to Texas with her. My fears about my past.

But I’m not used to being vulnerable with anyone. I haven’t let my guard down to be with any woman, ever. It was why I’d always preferred one night stands and no-strings-attached relationships.

Things with Amanda are different. But I’m still not sure how to navigate it all. I’m so afraid of fucking up. And it seems like that’s what I’m doing, anyway.

Sometimes I wonder why I even tried, knowing I’m not relationship material. But then when I look at Amanda, I know why: Because I love her. I just have to sort my shit out and figure out how to become good relationship material. Not for just anyone, but for her.

Chapter 22

Lincoln

The next day, I pick up the phone and decide I’m going to call Damien and ask for that official referral to Dr. Mack. I need to get some things right in my life so I can be the kind of guy Amanda deserves. I may have a lot of money and fame, but I want to have peace and security, too.

First, I decide, I’ll quit fighting. I know that Amanda doesn’t approve of it as my physical therapist, let alone my girlfriend, and all my doctors have advised me to stop. I want to be in good physical health for Amanda.

Second, I’ll go to Texas with Amanda. I won’t have to see my mom or talk to her or face my old demons. I’ll just go meet her family and have a fun vacation with her over the holidays.

Third, I’ll do this thing that Damien has been bugging me to do, about getting treatment with the psychiatrist. Or psychologist. Whatever Dr. Mack is.

I know I have issues from my past. Dating back from before I was at war, even. My childhood was pretty traumatic due to my mom.

And even though I hate these new-fangled definitions that doctors use to diagnose everyone with everything and pump meds to them constantly, maybe there’s something to this “PTSD” thing. Post traumatic stress disorder. I guess it could actually be a thing. Who knows? Maybe Dr. Mack can help me figure it out.

So, I tell myself that today’s the day I become a better person, and pick up the phone to dial Damien. Instead, though, I see that I have a voicemail. It’s from my mother.

My mother.

Wow.

It must have come in when I was at the hotel with Amanda, and had my phone off. It had run out of battery and died, and I hadn’t charged it until just now, since I’m back at my house.

Why the fuck was my mother calling me?

In the past, she’d send letters full of guilt trips, saying she missed me and why did I have to ignore her and can’t we get together? But the few times I had returned to Texas since I’d left as a teenager for the SEALs, she had only wanted money from me. She never could kick her bad habits or addictions for longer than it took to write me those stupid letters.

So, the fact that she called me is strange. Let’s just say she’s not the telephone type, or at least not when it comes to me. She hates to talk to me about anything serious because I just call her out on things she wants to ignore.

Despite my better instincts, I push “play.”

“Hey, Lincoln, it’s Ma.” Her voice sounds the same, yet different. It’s still high-pitched and kind of nasally. But it sounds stronger now, steadier, whereas it used to waver and crack. “I know it’s been a while and I can understand if you don’t want to talk to me, if you don’t trust a word I say anymore. But I wanted to let you know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there for you in the past, for not protecting you. You grew up into such a strong man, and I’m proud of you, but I’m sad that you had to protect yourself so much, because I didn’t. Please call me if you want to talk. I love you.”

That’s it. The message was over.

I know I should feel happy that my mom apologized. She’s never come out and said those words before. She seems completely genuine.