Here With Me (The Archer Brothers 1)

“No, my first name is Evan.”

“How are you today, Evan?”

My fingers itch from sitting still. I don’t want to be here, but the alternative is less appealing. Part of me is running back to base and to the security it provides from the outside world, but the other part of me, the part I’m listening to, is hoping that when I’m done here everything I thought I had will be mine again. If not, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Everything I knew I had, everything that I thought was waiting for me, isn’t. That’s a hard pill to swallow knowing you’re coming home to a family, but they don’t want you there.

“Today, I’m okay.” I clear my throat and cross my leg over my knee. It’s ninety degrees outside and common sense would say to wear shorts, but I couldn’t bring myself to think I’d be that relaxed here today. My black slacks are creased and lint free. My black socks are the same shade as my pants, and my shoes are polished enough to see my reflection. I pull at my pant leg and place my hand on my ankle to hold my leg in place. I have to put my hands somewhere. I have to keep them occupied because visions of strangling someone cloud my mind if I don’t keep them busy.

The therapist picks up her glasses and places them on her face. I watch as her hand slides them up the bridge of her nose until they’re resting where she needs them, only for them to slowly start to slide back down. She doesn’t stop what she’s doing to push them back into place. She continues to write as her hand flies across her yellow notepad in a hurried fashion.

“Do you know why you’re here, Evan?”

My hand leaves my ankle as the hem of my slacks becomes the most fascinating piece of clothing I own. I pull, push and straighten the cuff repeatedly. Of course I know why I’m here, but I don’t think she can fix my issues and if she can, I have doubts that the fix will work.

“Yes.”

“Are you here of your own accord.”

No, I’m not, I want to say but don’t. My sock needs adjusting, so that’s what I do now. Again with the pull, push and straightening. Again, I avoid eye contact.

“Yes, I am,” I lie. As much as I don’t want to be here and would prefer to do this on base with people I trust… trusted I’m here because this is what Lois says needs to happen. She says Ryley needs this, and I know she was here earlier today. Other than that, I have no idea what happened. I haven’t seen her for a week, again per Lois’ instructions and not since I showed up on our… her front porch with my bag sitting at my feet and my hat cuffed under my arm.

“How would you like to start?”

I shrug, not knowing how these types of meetings are supposed to go. I was just told to show up, to be here on time and to try. So far I’ve accomplished two of the three, but I’m not sure how I’m going to try when I have no idea how everything became so messed up to begin with.

“Would you like to talk about Ryley?”

I shrug again. I want to talk to Ryley, period, but she won’t return my phone calls. “She’s my favorite subject,” I say before I know the words are coming out of my mouth.

The therapist takes off her glasses and sets them down on her desk before folding her hands. I glance at her briefly and see that she’s smiling gently at me. I hope that’s a good sign, that it means everything with Ryley went smoothly. I hate that she was here earlier, and I couldn’t be. I wanted us to do this together but was advised against it. My life is all about advisement these days. Everyone and their grandmother has advice for me. Everyone knows what’s best, but none of them know shit.

Six years ago, I left home on a mission. I was told it’d be easy, in and out. There was nothing easy about what we were doing and why it took so long. Communication breakdowns, wrong Intel. It didn’t matter because once we were airborne we were targets, and nothing was going to save us.

She clears her throat getting me to look at her again. I know she’s waiting for me to elaborate, but I can’t. Talking about Ryley hurts me physically. I’ve missed her so much over the years that when I imagined our homecoming, it was something out of those ridiculous fairytale romances she was always telling me about. My mind pictured her dropping whatever was in her hands, as they would cover her mouth in shock. Her eyes would fill with unshed tears and she’d run to me, leaping into my arms. I’d spin her around a few times before setting her back on the ground where I’d cup her face in my hands and kiss her until we could no longer breathe.

That didn’t happen, except for the shocked face and tears. My reunion was nothing like you read about or see on television, the exact opposite, actually. I didn’t see happiness in her face; I saw anger and hurt. I had hurt her and didn’t know how. The only way to fix it sits in front of me, waiting for me to answer all her questions.

“Why are you here today, Evan?”

I drop my leg and rub the spot where my ankle was resting. I adjust myself in the uncomfortable chair and clear my throat as my hands rub down my legs, wiping away the sweat on my palms.

“Six years ago, the love of my life told me we were having a baby. I asked her to marry me and left a few days later on what was supposed to be an easy mission. Each mission is different. We know this going in, but this is our job. It’s what we do, and we do it proudly. I was told that I’d be home for the birth of the baby. They’d make sure of it. From prior experience, I knew they’d keep their word.”

Except someone didn’t.

“You’ve been gone a long time, Evan.”

I lean forward to relieve some of the ache in my back. “We never know how long we’re going to be gone. Ideally, you get in, get the job done and get out. It was only supposed to be for a few months. I was trying to keep track of Ryley’s due date and when it got close, my R & R was nowhere to be seen. My commander said it was coming and before I knew it, those months turned into a year and that year turned into six. Every time I’d check in, I was told they were working on an immediate extraction of just me so I could get home to meet my son, but it never came. They assured me that my brother knew everything.”

“But he didn’t?”

I sit back harder than I intend to and my muscles flinch. I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know who to trust. The men that promised to protect me say yes, but the man who shares my DNA, who was supposed to protect what’s mine, is on his own mission and I can’t ask him. I can’t confront him and demand that he tell me everything.”

“Do you think the Navy could be wrong?”

“I don’t know what to think. I went to do my job and when I came home expecting my family to be waiting for me, I was met with my fiancée wearing another man’s ring, a ring that belongs to my twin brother.”

“I’m going to ask you again, Evan, why are you here?”