“How old is he?”
“He’s five. He’ll start kindergarten in the fall.”
“Is he excited?”
“He is.” I do something I least expect of myself by pulling out my wallet and showing her a picture of him. He’s standing next to my dad and mom wearing NWU’s like my mom. EJ’s red hair looks shaggy under this cap, but he stands there next to my dad proud to be his mini-me.
“He’s adorable.”
“Thanks,” I say, tucking my wallet back into my purse. “He looks just like Evan. At least I think he does. My mom says he looks like me, but aside from his hair color, he’s all Evan. He acts just like him.”
“I find that surprising considering Nate raised him. You mentioned earlier that the twins are the opposite of each other.”
“I do too. Nate is so calm about everything, whereas Evan was wild. EJ is wild and sometimes out of control, at least for me, but he’s nothing like Nate. EJ wants all the excitement and the reward. He knows if he sets his mind to something the payoff will be there at the end. Even at five, he knows about hard work.”
“Are you afraid he’ll go into the service?”
“No. I know I should be considering… but I’m not. It’s in his blood. I think I’d be more shocked if he didn’t enlist at eighteen.”
The therapist shifts the papers on her desk before leaning back in her chair. “You have a big task on your hands where your son is concerned.”
“I know,” I say, honestly. It’s the one thing that I do know. I don’t care if he’s five or fifteen. He’s not going to understand that his dad is Evan, and when he asks why, what do I say? I’m sorry, we were told he was dead, and expect everything to be okay? I can’t even wrap my head around that at the moment; how’s he supposed to?
“Well, that’s one of the reasons you’re here today. So let me help you. The first thing I’m going to tell you is that it’s not going to matter how you say it, it’ll sound wrong to you because of the pain you’re in. You need to understand that your son is resilient. Yes, he won’t understand at first –“
“I don’t understand. How am I supposed to explain it to my son? He… he loves Nate and I can’t tell Nate to go away, but I also can’t tell Nate to stay because Evan deserves a chance to get to know his son. And EJ… he deserves them both.
“God, I’m so confused and frustrated,” I say, standing up. “I don’t know what to do, and you don’t have the answer. Sitting EJ down is the only answer, but he’s not going to understand it. He’s not going to comprehend his mommy sitting him down and showing him a picture of Evan and saying hey bud, sorry, Nate really isn’t your dad, but this guy is. In this fantasy world I’ve been living in, none of this happens, and I’m getting married soon. We healed. He died. We buried him. We said our goodbyes and moved on.”
I stand with my back to her, afraid that she’ll cringe at the way I look right now. I must look like an evil witch to her, but I can’t help it. I just want some happy in my life, and I thought I was getting that. I thought I had earned it.
“The day Evan’s mom showed up at our house asking for his flag, I told her I was pregnant. I asked her if she really wanted to take Evan’s legacy away from his son. She sat there, stoically, with her hands holding a picture of Evan. The picture, just a random one that I had out, was from his basic training.”
“‘Where did you get this?’”
“‘Evan. He sent it to me when he was in basic.’”
“‘He gave you everything, didn’t he?’”
“‘We’re engaged, Julianne, why wouldn’t he share everything with me?’”
“‘Were.’”
“What?’”
“‘You were engaged.’”
“‘Julianne, I’m still having his son. We created this child together, and he knew he was having a child before he…’”
“‘You can say it.’”
“‘No, I can’t.’”
“I never understood how she could talk about Evan being gone so quickly. I couldn’t. Even when he was deployed, I acted like he was coming home any day just so I had peace of mind. I can’t imagine what she went through when she lost her husband and again to lose her son, but I wasn’t her enemy.
“My pregnancy was without complications. Whenever Nate was home he was making sure I was eating. Lois or Frannie, she’s River’s wife, were at all my appointments, and Carter helped Nate build EJ’s crib. Lois, she did this amazing collage of Evan, which is EJ’s wallpaper. So many people gave me photos after Evan died that she took them and had them made into wallpaper. Still to this day, EJ’s room is my favorite room in the house.
“I was alone when I delivered. I told my mom that if Evan couldn’t be with me, no one could. So I did it by myself. There was no one to hold my hand or tell me to push just a little bit harder. I felt Evan with me though. I knew he was in the room. But knowing what I know now, it was just a figment of my imagination. He could’ve been there when his son was born, but he wasn’t. When I think back to that day…” I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I gave birth to EJ alone. I was empty inside and sobbed when the nurse set him on my chest. Evan wasn’t there to share that moment with me. I held our son and cried until there was nothing left. I wasn’t happy after I had EJ because everything was different. I was alone. I was left alone, and nothing can change that.”
“You’re not alone now, though, Ryley.”
I scoff. “I guess that depends on your definition of alone.”
“Do you think Evan feels alone?”
I bite my lower lip, likely drawing blood, to keep myself from crying. Only my self-inflicted pain doesn’t stop the tears from flowing.
“I know Evan feels like he’s alone. It’s hard to describe, but I’ve always felt connected to him. Even when they told me he died, it was hard to believe. I thought that I’d feel my heart stop when he died, that I would know, but it was nothing like that. I had always sensed him around me, or would imagine him walking into the room I was in, and seconds later, there he was. I tried to explain myself to him once, and all he did was nod and say he felt it too.
“I should’ve trusted my instincts, but I’m supposed to trust the people he works for and I did, and now look at where we are – sitting in your office trying to come up with a decent resolution.”
“Why do you call the resolution decent, Ryley?” she asks, sliding her notepad to the side of her desk. I find it hard to believe she’s done analyzing my life, but I’m willing to appease her.
“Like I’ve said, there’s so much hurt in my family right now, decent would be a godsend. Regardless of any choice I make, brothers will be torn apart. A family that has healed is once again experiencing the wounds that destroyed all of us. Julianne doesn’t know her son is alive, and Nate doesn’t know about his brother. Regardless of what Evan says, Nate wouldn’t hide this from me.”
“What did Evan say?”
I reach for a tissue and dab at my eyes. Today can’t end fast enough for me. “The day that Evan returned and I told him about Nate, Evan kept saying Nate knew. Everything from that day is so confusing. I didn’t ask Evan to elaborate. I didn’t think I needed to. I was in shock.”
“You don’t sound so sure,” she states, adding to my uncertainty.
“That’s because I’m not. Seeing him standing there, none of it makes sense.”
The therapist picks up her pad and when I think she’s about to write another novel about my life, she slides it into an open desk drawer. She places her folded hands on top of her desk and attempts to smile. I know it’s hard for her to listen to my sob story and not judge me. I’m thankful she did.
“As you know, I’m going to meet with Evan in a little while, but we’re not done. I’m very aware of your timeline to get things resolved. If I were in your shoes, I’d postpone the wedding until the three of you can sort everything out. I’m not saying cancel, but just put it off for a bit. I’m afraid you’d do yourself and Nate an injustice if you went t
hrough with the ceremony as planned.
“I’ve cleared my calendar this week and plan to see you and Evan – together – in the next couple of days to discuss what methods need to be implemented for both of you to be successful parents to EJ because frankly, he’s the most important person in this travesty and we need to make sure he’s well taken care of.”
I nod and stand, extending my hand to her. “I’m sorry I was so rude and absent when we began. I’ve had years of talking about Evan, to find closure and to have those wounds ripped open – sitting down and talking to a stranger was not something I wanted to do.”
“I completely understand, Ryley.” She stands and walks me to the door. I pause, with my hand on the knob and brace myself. Evan could be there, waiting. We could see each other, make eye contact and both would see how much hurt we’ve been going through. Only, I don’t sense him there, but I’ve learned not to follow my gut anymore.
“He’s not there, Ryley, if that’s why you’re waiting.” I let her words linger in the air as I open the door slowly to find Lois still with her nose in a magazine, just like I left her. She looks up, smiles softly and stands to take my hand.
“EVAN, I THINK WE’RE finished for today.”
My head lifts quickly as I meet her gaze. There is a look of pity masking her smile. She can pity me. It’s understandable. If I were in her shoes I’d pity the person I am right now. I chance a look at the clock and see that I still have a few more minutes. Maybe she feels how broken I am and needs time to regroup or find someone else to fix me.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m not sure I want to go through this again with another doctor, and definitely not a military one.
The doc folds the page of her notepad over and slides it into her desk. She smiles softly. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Ryley this morning. My schedule has been cleared this week so I can help get things resolved, or heading toward a resolution. My plan is to see you and Ryley together in the next couple of days to discuss what methods need to be implemented for both of you. My concern is EJ. You need to be able to bond with him and she understands that.”
She stands, coming over to me. “My suggestion, and I didn’t tell this to Ryley, is for you to spend some time with her. She’s hurting, Evan. While you thought everything was fine, aside from the fact that you were gone for so long, she buried you and tried to move on with her life. She’s making neither heads nor tails of what’s happening right now, but give her time without letting her slip through the cracks.”
My body sighs as I stand, as if it knows I don’t have to sit in that chair anymore. My feet shuffle toward the door, leaving the doc leaning up against her desk. “Thank you,” I say before opening the door and leaving the room.
The sun is bright and penetrating when I step out of the office. I have to shield my eyes quickly before I walk out into traffic. Once my eyes adjust, I look across the street to the park hoping to see Ryley sitting over there. If she were, it’d be so much easier to talk to her right now, although the thought of bringing her to base makes more sense to me since she wouldn’t be able to run away from me. Somehow, however, I don’t think Ryley wants to be anywhere near the base – not that I can blame her. At this point, I don’t want to be there either, except it’s the only choice I have since I’m not really welcome in my own home.
With only one other destination in mind, I text the guys and ask them to meet me. We need to figure out what’s going on. Each of our situations is different, yet we’re all experiencing the same thing. I also need to bite the bullet and call my mother. I’m not sure why I haven’t yet. I guess I’ve been waiting to see if our unearthly return would make the news, but so far nothing has been reported. Every time I learn another factoid about this deployment, I’m more convinced that it was not legit.
Pulling in front of Magoo’s, it would be easy to go drown my sorrows in beer, but I need to keep a level head about the situation. If I ask the wrong person a question, who knows what could happen? As is, someone high up has taken away my life. It doesn’t matter that I’m standing here today or not. I’m not the same person and someone needs to pay.
It’s a happy relief to walk in and be surrounded by friends. The bar stools are full of patrons, men I’ve served with in the past. Tables are thrown together to make bigger spaces and the same chairs are still here. An American flag hangs on the wall with various pictures surrounding it. All these pictures have been given or sent to Rick, the owner, for display. I refuse to look at the wall that holds all our past SEALs. I know the four of us are up there or maybe Rick has taken them down. Either way, I’m not looking, at least not today.
I’ve spent many hours trying to figure out what happened and answering all the questions I could. It’s very unsettling to know that people thought you were dead.
It only takes me a second or two to spot Raskin and McCoy.
Justin “Rask” Raskin, being the single guy he is, only had to deal with his parents on his return. His mom fainted after she answered the phone and his dad threatened to beat whoever was on the other end. They’re arriving tomorrow. We’ve all promised to be there for him when he sees them for the first time. I think that’s another reason why I can’t call my mom. I need to see her and Livvie, and I know I can’t continue to put it off any longer. Thing is, spending time with my son and his mother is more important. Well, his mother is the icing on my unfrosted cake. If I get any time with her it’ll be worth it.
Tucker McCoy is our sniper and a damn good one. When we met back at the base after our fateful return, his story was similar to mine except his wife left and took their daughter. She didn’t leave a forwarding address and isn’t in her hometown. How he knows the latter is beyond me. I’m not going to ask. In fact, I try not to ask any questions because our wounds are so deep it’s like pouring salt in them, rinsing and repeating.
The guys are sitting at the table throwing the beers back. I can’t help but wonder if they were already here when I called them. I probably would’ve been had I not agreed to the therapy session today.
Just as I sit down, Raymond “River” Riveria, walks in. He receives pats on the back, shares handshakes and is admired by our fellow brothers. He’s our fire team leader and a damn fine one at that. Frannie, his wife, and Ryley are friends; at least, they were when we left. River’s the lucky bastard of the group. His wife welcomed him home with open arms and then vowed vengeance on whoever is responsible for the colossal fuck-up. Frannie offered their extra bedroom to me, but I declined. They haven’t seen each other in years, the last thing they need is a roommate. River and Frannie also know everything about what’s going with Ryley. It’s a bit comforting to hear from Frannie that Nate and Ryley didn’t just fall in love and that she refused him for years, even though it still hurts and doesn’t really change my opinion of the situation.
Since our return, it’s been a never-ending cycle of pain. I’m starting to wonder if we were better off never coming back. Most of the wives and families had accepted that we were dead, and yet here we are ripping open healed wounds without any of the answers that our families and we need so desperately.
There’s an uncomfortable silence at the table. It’s completely different from when you’re meeting someone for the first time and you’ve run out of things to talk about. This silence is deafening, scary. We have too much to say with far too many questions to ask, and we’re all afraid of the answers.
A fresh pitcher of beer is set on the table and two other glasses added. I nod at Slick Rick, who is a dear friend of all the SEALs. He’s owned this bar for years and has always catered to the Navy. As far as he’s concerned this is our establishment. He’s open seven days a week and when I asked him why, he said the military is always working and so was he. As soon as our glasses are filled, we raise them toward the bar, acknowledging our thanks. Rick waves us off as if thanks aren’t needed.
“I’m hiring a private investigator.” It’s McCoy who breaks the silence. He�
�s lost the most out of our group. While some may think that he’s in the same boat I am, it’s not strictly true. I have the luxury of seeing Ryley whenever I want even if it tears me apart. McCoy hasn’t seen his daughter, who was three when we left, and now she’s gone.
“It’s smart,” River says, as he sits down. “Frannie wants us to talk to someone from the CIA to help us.”
“Why?” Rask asks, which honestly dumfounds me.
“Because something happened to us and our families,” I say. “After the shit I learned today, the articles I read… this mission we were on was a cover-up for something bigger and we were pawns.” I chug down my glass of beer and refill it, emptying the pitcher. No sooner do I set it down, another one appears. Rick just knows.
“I know someone, or at least I did, in the CIA,” I add. “Her name is Cara, and she used to date my brother.” Before my mission, I left thinking that Nate and Cara would be headed toward the altar and may even beat Ryley and me. Now I think his relationship with her was just a front to hide his feelings toward Ryley. “I’ll have to tread lightly where she’s concerned though. I don’t know how she and Nate ended.”
The guys all nod in agreement as we delve right back into the uncomfortable silence. That seems to be our norm. We sit and think about the shit storm our lives have become. There isn’t a real use in talking about it because we don’t have answers.
Before long, Frannie is at our table. She sits next to me, offering me comfort. The talk turns to sports and the weather. We don’t say much in front of Frannie, but we know that River has been talking to her. I’d be doing the same thing if I had Ryley. Never have I felt the need to talk about a mission before. I’d never break my oath, but I have a feeling if I don’t talk about it or write it down, facts are going to get lost or forgotten. I, for one, can’t afford to forget anything.
“Dinner tomorrow night at our house,” Frannie announces with such enthusiasm that McCoy and Rask agree immediately. “We’ll barbeque and maybe get a little surfing in if the waves are good and with Rask’s parents arriving, it will be a nice neutral ground.”
Here With Me (The Archer Brothers #1) Page 8
