Phoenix

"Bri, I'm just a spirit. I just had to see you. I have to tell you something."

"What? Are you okay? Are you in Heaven, what..."

"Bri, I'm fine. Yes, I crossed over to the other side."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you that I love you, and I want you to move on. Craig Jackson, he's a good man, Bri. He cares about you. He can take good care of you, the way I would have."

"Ethan," I reach out to him, "I miss you so much! I need you!"

"My time on this side is over, my love. You need Craig now, and he needs you."

"He said the same thing! Ethan, I don't understand."

"You will, Brianna. I promise. I have to go now."

He gets up.

"Ethan! Ethan, wait! Don't go! Please! Ethan!"

"Ethan!"

I sit straight up in bed. My forehead is full of sweat. I glance at my phone. It's 2:39 in the morning. I was dreaming. I fell asleep after all! Ethan...

I feel the tears starting. No, no, I am not doing this tonight! I turn on YouTube and I find a video of jazz music over ocean waves. It's perfect. I lay back down and listen. It doesn't take long for the music to do its job.

Rehab is difficult, but I know it's necessary if I want to return to work for the next school year. Jack and his team not only have me walking, they have me going up and down a platform of stairs, riding a recumbent bike, pulling myself up on a rope, stretching, and kicking a ball with my feet. They do massage me at the end of each session. One thing that I do look forward to is once the doctor clears me is therapy in the warm water pool. I keep my eyes on that prize.

At the end of each day, I am exhausted. Sometimes I sleep through dinner and don't wake up until the next day. This evening, I have just enough energy to get into a nightgown and get into bed. I don't even take off my favorite robe.

"Sleepyhead, wake up."

Someone is gently shaking my shoulder. Then that same person begins rubbing my arm. I open my eyes to see who it is. I suspect that it's my aide coming to take my vitals.

"Craig!"

I push myself into a sitting position and hug him.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't come before now. Work has been absolutely crazy! I've had to cover extra since I've had some of my team out sick. I just came from a seventy-two hour stint."

"Three days? Why aren't you home in bed?"

He smiles.

"I had to see you. Besides, I brought you something."

He hands me a white paper bag. I peek inside.

"OMG! No, you didn't!"

"I did. I heard that you haven't been eating dinner, so I figured I'd help you out."

"How did you know that?"

"Oh, I have my sources."

He sits down across from me. I pull the chicken wrap and the waffle fries from the bag. I take a bite of the fry. The food here isn't bad, but nothing could compare to my favorite meal from one of my favorite fast food joints.

"Mmmm, oh man, that's the best thing I have eaten in weeks! I'm sure that I've lost fifteen pounds since I've been here."

"You're still beautiful."

My face flushes red, I'm sure of it. I'm spite of me starving, I still eat like a lady, even though I am tempted to gobble it all down. The peppermint milkshake that I wash it all down with is divine!

"Now I'm stuffed, but happy."

"Up for a walk?" he asks.

"Yes!"

Craig grabs my slippers, which have a non-skid sole and slides them on my feet.

"Your magic slippers, my princess."

He takes my hand and helps me up. The walker is right in front of me. I grab it with both hands.

"I hope I can graduate to a cane soon."

"You'll get there. One step at a time."

He opens my door and out we go.

It's evening, and most of the patients are asleep or watching TV. We have the hallway to ourselves. Craig stays right by my side as I push my walker down the hall.

"You're moving much better. Are they working you hard?"

"Yes! Yes, but Jack's team is wonderful. I do everything they tell me. Some people here aren't that cooperative. Sometimes they get mad and want to cuss and fuss and just refuse to do it right. I can I understand why. Sometimes it does hurt, but I know if I want my life back, I must push past the physical pain."

"You have a very good attitude, Brianna. I'm proud of you."

I smile.

"Well, when you've been on the other side, you know how it feels to deal with uncooperative people. I'm trying hard to be the opposite of that."

"You have a very sweet spirit. I'm sure your kiddos love you."

"Hmmph! As far as they're concerned, I'm just the Band-Aid and ice pack lady!"

Craig laughs.

"Well, if I cut my finger, would you put a Band-Aid on it, kiss it and make it better?"

Now it's my turn to laugh.

"Oh come on, a big strong man like you?"

"Firemen need tenderness too," he whispers in my ear.

We go to the visitor's lounge. The TV is on low, but there's no one here. We sit down at a table by the window. Craig pulls out my chair and helps me down before sitting down himself.

"You look good for a man that's been working three days straight."

He chuckles.

"Well, we do get some sleep if there's no emergency."

"What else do you do while you're sitting around waiting for the fire bell?"

"Oh, lift weights, wash the trucks, inspect the equipment, play cards, experiment in the kitchen."

"Do you cook?"

"Well, I dabble a little, yes. My food is edible, let's say that. I can boil water."

I laugh.

"You should let me cook for you one night."

"Really? You're a cook?"

"Well, I'm no gourmet, but yes, I am."

"So, what would you cook for me?"

"Any restrictions?"

He shakes his head.

"I pretty much eat everything. I'm a growing boy."

I chuckle.

"I think I'd make you some beef stew and cornbread from scratch."

"Oh damn, are you serious? You don't do that stuff from the box?"

"Only if I'm being super lazy."

He reaches across the table for my hand.

"Woman, where have you been all my life?"

"What?" I smile.

"I was raised by my mom and grandma. They made real food, especially on Sundays and holidays. There was no such thing as cornbread from a box or soup from a can in my house. You sound like someone raised you well."

"I have to give my parents credit for that. My mom taught me to cook when I was a teenager. I had to make at least one meal a week for her and my dad. My father's a rough critic when it comes to food."

"So am I." He squeezes my hand. "Jesus, you're beautiful."

"I don't have on any makeup or jewelry! My hair is past pitiful."

"Brianna, please don't put yourself down. If I think you're beautiful without all that stuff, I can only imagine what you look like with it, but you don't have to put on a show for me."

"I forgot, you saw me all broken and bloody."

"I did. You had a face full of blood and soot and dirt. I still thought you were beautiful. That night, when I got back to the station, or that morning rather, I knelt at my bunk and prayed for you."

"You did?"

"Yes. I prayed that you would live and make a full recovery. I also prayed that you'd be able to get through your grief and find your way to the other side."

"Do you still pray for me?"

"Every single night."

"You have no idea how much that means to me."

"Yes, I do."

He's staring at me. I know that look. It's the same way Ethan used to look at me.

"May I have your attention please? The time is now 8pm and visiting hours are over. Please make your way to the main entrance and turn in your visitor's pass as you exit the facility. Thank you," the voice crackles over the loudspeaker.

"I have to go, but I'll walk you back."

Craig escorts me back to my room. He helps me sit down on the bed and swings my legs up into the bed.

"When will I see you again?"

"I can try and come tomorrow night. I'm off for a few days."

"Please get some rest."

"I will."

We hug each other tightly. When we pull back, Craig looks at me. Slowly, we bring our faces together. He kisses me.

"Craig," I whisper.

"Brianna." He kisses me again.

"Sleep well, princess."

He tucks me into bed. I lay back and watch him head for the door. He turns back around.

"Until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," I say.

He flashes a grin at me. Then he's gone again.

I glance down at my left hand. I slide the ring off and put it in my bedside drawer.

Tomorrow I'll give it to my mom for safekeeping.

This man, this man, oh my God, this man!

I lay back on my pillow. I run my hands over my body under the sheets. The big bandages are long gone. All I have now is a small patch on my abdomen and my thigh. The stitches are also out. I'm on regular pain relievers now, no more opioids.

I let my hand drift to the mound of hair on my groin. Jesus, when it get so wild and woolly down there? As soon as I can, I need to give myself a trim! I let my fingers dip lower. I slowly part my legs to allow my hand more access. To my amazement, I'm wet! Did Craig kissing me do that to me? Oh my Lord in Heaven, I haven't felt this way since the last time Ethan and I made love.

"Brianna," Craig's voice whispers in my ear. He softly rubs his goatee against my cheek. "Let me have a little snack."

"Of what," I ask.

"You."

He pulls back the covers and lifts my gown.

"You smell so good."

Slowly, he begins kissing my kneecaps working his way down my inner thighs before his fingers part my lips. Then his tongue comes out and begins stroking my entrance.

"Craig! Oh Craig..." My hand touches his hair. It's wavy and soft.

"Mmmmm, yes," he murmurs against my sex.

"Uhhhhhh! Uhhhhhhhh!" I cover my mouth with my hand so no one will hear me. I lift my pelvis to his mouth.

"Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmm!" I feel my breath catch. I am cumming!

"Ummmmmmmmm! Hmmmmmmmm!"

My pussy crackles with fire, again, and again, until I begin to come down. I slowly move my hand from my mouth and pull the other one from under the covers. Oh, that felt so damn good!

My fantasy ended, I close my eyes and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Those days in rehab fly by because I'm constantly busy, between therapy, visits from my folks, and Craig, the time flies by, as does my progress. By the time I am ready to be discharged, I am able to walk short distances with a cane, but I still need the walker to go further. I will be continuing therapy for the next several weeks.

The day after I return home is Ethan's memorial service. I'm not sure if I want to go, but he was my fiancée after all. His mom wants me to say a few words. I agree, but again, I feel very unsure of myself. The only thing that gives me hope is that Craig will attend, along with some of his colleagues that helped with the rescue after the crash.

Sitting in the church, I am amazed at how many people have come to say their goodbyes. There must be over two hundred people here! It is easier without a casket sitting up front. It's a picture of him surrounded by flowers instead. When the minister calls me to the front, I stand on my cane, still feeling a little wobbly. He takes my hand and helps me to the microphone.

"Good afternoon. My name is Brianna, and those of you who don't know, Ethan and I were engaged to be married." I pause. "Ethan Parker was the most kind, generous, and intelligent man I knew. He was always so selfless, so ready to help his fellow man. His smile was infectious. Those are the things I will miss the most about him, as well as how wonderful he made me feel. When I was with him, I felt somehow like my world was always centered, like everything was going to be alright. We were coming back here to Chicago, his hometown and my adopted home, to get married, when our lives changed forever." I pause again.

"The train we were on hit some bad tracks. The last thing I remember is him grabbing my hand as we heard screaming. He was trying to comfort me, even in the midst of a disaster. Then I woke up. I was in a lot of pain, I couldn't move. I knew I was dying. Then a face appeared above me. It was an angel named Captain Craig Jackson. He saved my life."

I stop to dab my eyes.

"As I have been recovering from my injuries, I have been struggling with survivor's guilt, wondering why I survived and Ethan didn't. A few weeks ago, he appeared to me in a dream and told me that he loved me, that he would always watch over me, but that I had to move on with my life."

I dab my eyes again.

"My mom once told me that there is a lesson in every death. I remember Ethan used to push his students to do their best in spite of their disabilities. He always wanted them to rise above, to do better, to not let circumstances stop them from achieving the their full potential. I believe that Ethan wanted me, all of us, to push through this awful time and keep going. I know he isn't with us physically, but I believe that he is watching over all the people that he loved during his time on this earth. I don't know what my future holds, but I do intend to be able to walk completely on my own and return to work next school year and be there for my kiddos when they get sick, injured, or just need a little attention. I will always love Ethan. I will never forget him, but I can say that I am definitely a better person for having known him. Thank you."

There isn't a dry eye in the place when I'm done. Several people stand and applaud. I go down and hug his parents. His mom and I just hold each other and cry. Finally she says,

"You spoke so beautifully, Brianna. I know Ethan is proud of you!"

"Thank you Mrs. Parker."

"Please," his father hugs me too, "stay in touch. You'll always be our adopted daughter."

People begin leaving the church. Craig comes over to me.

"Can we talk somewhere alone?"

"Sure."

He grabs my coat and purse. I follow him out and around the corner.

"Brianna, I wanted you to know that your switching seats with Ethan had nothing to do with his death."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We got the final report today. There were other people sitting along the same aisle who survived and didn't suffer nearly as catastrophic injuries as Ethan and some of the others. It was just luck of the draw, I suppose. Even if he had stayed by the window, he still might have died."

"So it wasn't my fault?"

"No. Not by a long shot."

"Oh Craig!" I throw my arms around him. "Thank you! Thank you so much! I can't tell you what a weight that is off my shoulders!"

"Tell me over dinner."

I release him.

"D...dinner?"

"You know, that last meal of the day? I'd like it to be someplace where they have linen tablecloths, soft lighting, maybe a little live jazz?"

"You want to take me out?"

He chuckles.

"Brianna," he slides his arm around me, "what do I have to do in order to show you how much I love you?"

"Wait, what? Back up, a minute, Captain. Love me?"

Craig stands in front of me and takes my hands.

"Baby, I loved you the minute I first laid eyes on you. If you had died that night, I don't know how I would've been able to keep going. Brianna, I think about you all the time! I just...even when I'm on the John taking a shit, I think about you."

I burst into laughter. "Are you serious?"

"It's not just that. I lay awake at night sometimes thinking about what it would feel like to have you next to me. I wonder if you're scared or happy or sad. Hell, I almost asked your mom what kind of feminine products you used so I could buy you some!"

"You didn't! Say you didn't!"

He chuckles.

"I didn't. But if you asked me to, I would. Brianna, you are a brave woman. You have an inner strength and determination that I find awfully sexy. The first night I kissed you, I went home with my dick so tight it's a wonder it didn't bust my zipper! I had what us guys call blue nuts."

"Did you..."

"I had to. Otherwise I'd have been up all night!"

"I have a confession to make."

"What?"

"I...that night, I touched myself too. I pictured you in my bed, tasting me."

He grabs my arms and pulls me close. He whispers in my mouth,

"I plan on making that fantasy come true. I will lick every inch of your gorgeous skin with my tongue, especially your pussy."

He covers my mouth with his and pulls me into his arms. Oh my Lord in Heaven, this man, this man, this man! Craig pulls me to him. Shit, he is hard! When he releases me he says,

"I want you so badly, but I want to do this right. You're still healing. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you."

"I'll let you know when they clear me."

"Can I still take you to dinner?"

"I'd love that so much!"

"I'll pick you up about seven."

"What should I wear?"

"Something lovely, just like you."

He offers me his arm. I take it as he walks back to the front of the church. I'm still not able to drive, so my parents are taking me home. I am a bit drained from the service, so I lay back and close my eyes.

Ethan, I know you did this. I will always love you. Thank you for helping me to move on.

As the days turn into weeks, Craig and I see each other as much as we can. He takes me to some lovely restaurants, to the movies, and even takes me for a drive along the lakefront. We stop at the Pointe. I'm still a little shaky, but he helps me as we walk down to the beach by the museum to watch the sunset. By then, I'm only using the cane to walk.

It's a beautiful night in late spring. The air is cool, but not uncomfortable, and still warm enough for lightweight jackets. Craig, being the gentleman that he is, takes off his blazer to put over my shoulders.

"Craig?"

"Yes baby?"

"That day of the funeral, you told me that you loved me, but I didn't say it back."

"It's alright. I figured you would when you were ready."

"I have loved you since the night you let me cry on you in the hospital. At first, I did feel guilty about having feelings for you. My first night in rehab is when I dreamed about Ethan. You stuck by me through the worst time of my life. You said that we needed each other. I needed you, and I didn't realize it. You're my rock, Craig Jackson. I don't want to imagine my life without you."

"Brianna," Craig pulls me close and plants the sweetest kiss on my lips. "I love you so much. If I could count every star in the sky, it still wouldn't amount to what I feel in here." He guides my hand to his chest. I can feel the soft thud of his heart.

"I spoke to the orthopedic doctor today. He said that as long as we're careful, I can have sex."

Craig scoops me into his arms.

"What are you doing?" I laugh.

"I'm gonna take you home, strip you down and taste this gorgeous body!"

About an hour later, I am standing in Craig's bathroom, dressed only in my robe, my bra and panties. I look at my body in the mirror. I have a long scar down my right side where they had to repair my liver. I also see the scars on my hip and leg where they had to pin my pelvis and hip back together. They are fading, but I know surgical scars never fully go away, ever.

"Brianna? You okay babe?"

"Oh, I...I'm fine!"

"Can I come in?"

"S...sure!"

I try to close my robe. Craig steps through the door. I gasp. I've never seen him without a shirt before. He is nicely built and sculpted, not overly so, but just enough. No wonder he can lift me so easily!

"Hey, what are you hiding from me for?" He gently takes my wrists.

"I...I didn't want you to see..."

"Brianna," he steps into my space, "I know what happened to you. I was there. These scars mean you survived. They don't detract from your beauty at all."

"They don't?"

"Baby, I love you. I love every inch of you. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide from me."

He turns me towards the mirror and opens my robe.

"Every time I see this," he runs his hand over my abdominal scar, "I will remember the day we met, the day I met the woman I want in my corner for the rest of my life. You complete me. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you. What I see is a beautiful strength."