John Robinson stared at the flier on the bulletin board for several minutes. It wasn't telling him anything new, but he stared at it out in the hallway instead of going into the room, where two people, even earlier than him, were already taking seats.
I don't want to be here, he thought. And he wouldn't have, if his commanding officer hadn't made it an order. But even though he was here, and early no less, he still couldn't quite take those last few steps. It would've made it official. He looked at the flier again; the one for the support group he'd been told to go to. The support group for people who'd lost loved ones.
"'Scuse me," he heard a woman's voice say. He turned and saw the woman he'd spotted in the room from the doorway when he'd walked past it. "If you're here for the group, there's fresh coffee, if you'd prefer to wait inside for everyone else to show up." John was about to ask her if she was the head of the group, but he saw the familiar look of sadness on her face that he'd been seeing in his mirror each morning for weeks. He also noticed that she was visibly pregnant, though just barely, and a wedding ring on her finger.
Oh man, he thought. That's awful.
The woman looked down, clearly realizing that he'd noticed.
"It's okay, you can ask," she said. "That's why we're here isn't it? To talk this stuff out?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Be observant?" the woman said with a sift chuckle. "Nothing wrong with that. Can't learn much if we can't notice the little details around us, can we? I'm Maureen, by the way." She stuck out her hand and John took it.
"John," he said. "Robinson."
"Nice to meet you, John. Who are you here for?"
John was going to tell Maureen that he'd wait to bring it up in group, but something in his gut told him he could trust her. "My fiancee," he said. "Natalie."
Maureen nodded. "Losing someone we love is always hard, I imagine, but to have her taken away from you before you even got the chance to start your lives together... I am so sorry. I can't begin to imagine."
"Maybe you can," John said. "Unless I'm wrong about why you're here."
Maureen held up the hand with the ring on it.
"I guess you're right," she said.
"Was it sudden?" John said.
"Very," Maureen said, her eyes filling with tears. "Drunk driver. Some rich college brat on spring break hit the gas when she meant to hit the break. The doctor said it wasn't even the vehicle that killed Micah. She said that if he'd fallen to his left instead of to his right he wouldn't have hit his head on the curb and they could've saved him."
John's own eyes were starting to feel a bit wet too. "You know, people talk about how horrible cancer is, but I think I'd rather go that way. Give everyone I know a chance to say goodbye. Maybe give me a chance to think of some last words that would look good etched on an urn, you know? Natalie's last words, according to her parents were 'Oh, I think I stood up too fast.' If only that's all it was."
"What happened?" Maureen asked.
"I was halfway to Oregon to see her and her folks when her Dad called me," John said. "Pulmonary embolism. She stood up to go for a walk, fell over, and... her Dad said the paramedics pronounced her at the scene."
"Oh, God, that's awful," Maureen said.
John sighed, then let out a short laugh. "You know, when my CO told me to come to this group, I didn't think it was gonna do any good, but just talking about it with you... I haven't even spoken about it with my squadmates yet. They know, of course, and they've all been so kind."
Maureen took John's hand. "I think you'll find talking your problems out works more often than you might think. Not just for tragedy like this. Sometimes when an equation is giving me some trouble I'll just start talking to myself. You'd be amazed how often it works."
"Equations? You a rocket scientist or something?"
Maureen smiled. "As a matter of fact, I am a rocket scientist. And judging by the fact that you just casually referred to people as CO and sqaudmates I'm guessing that you're military."
"Good catch," John said, letting Maureen lead him into the room where the support group meeting was about to start.
