Chapter 36
JAXON
It turned out that Lindsay had been wrong. I had been reinstated after my brief suspension, but I wasn’t back to work.
Steve said they’d filled up the dance card while my fate had been uncertain, and therefore, I was still waiting to hear when I’d be taking to the skies again. I was itching to get back, but I was also enjoying my time at home.
I’d even gotten to join my mom, Kavan, and Shira for their dinner the day after my meeting with Lindsay. I was restless but happy to be back for a while.
The evening had been filled with laughter, tears from Mom when she’d felt the little princess kick, and a toast when I’d told them I wouldn’t be moving after all.
Shira had driven Kavan home after the rest of us had gotten nostalgic over another of Mom’s bottles of whiskey, and I’d ended up crashing in my childhood bedroom.
If I didn’t start flying again soon, Mom was going to have to start buying her own booze at the rate we were going through it now.
Thankfully, I’d been bringing her back a bottle every month or so for quite some time, and since she never drank it unless we were with her, she swore she was okay for the time being.
I’d barely staggered back into my own place when my phone started ringing. Kavan’s name appeared on the screen, and I cursed my friend. “Do you know I’ve had more alcohol since I’ve gotten back from Fiji than in the five years before I went?”
“Hey, bro. We’re just trying to help you drown your sorrows. No one has been pouring the stuff down your throat.”
“Is it supposed to work?” I asked. “Drowning one’s sorrows? Because I’m just feeling more sorrowful than I did yesterday.”
He laughed, and I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “That’s not sorrow. It’s a hangover. Consider drinking less next time if you don’t like it.”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I’ll do that. Just as soon as I can breathe again while knowing that Lindsay is cool with us being a memory she can use to remind her of her mistakes.”
“Yeah, that must’ve been a blow,” he said. “Luckily, we’ve got the convention tonight. That ought to cheer you up. All the old crowd will be there, and we get to make fun of the new recruits. Want me to pick you up?”
“What fucking convention?” My only plans for the day included showering, watching some movies, and sleeping. Also, thinking about plans hurts.
My very inconsiderate friend just laughed again. “The Air Force convention, bud. We said we’d go months ago. We can’t bail now.”
“Ahh, fuck. I forgot about that.” Now that he’d mentioned it though, I distinctly remembered my enthusiasm when I’d convinced Kavan to go. “Our one last night out on the town before the baby is born. I talked Shira into it, didn’t I?”
“Yep.” He whistled happily. “She can’t wait for me to leave the house. Apparently, doing hospital drills is getting old. She says there is such a thing as being too prepared.”
“Don’t pick me up,” I said. “I’ll get us a cab and come past your place. I still have those bracelets I picked up in Fiji for your girls. Any chance you’ll tell me your daughter’s name so I can have it engraved?”
His bark of laughter this time grated against my ears. “Nice try. You’ll know when everyone else does. You know I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Shira will have my balls if I tell you before even the grandparents know.”
“Yeah,” I replied weakly. “We wouldn’t want that.”
Kavan told me to be at his house no later than six, and then we hung up. I crawled into bed after a quick shower, napped, and binge-watched TV shows under the covers until it was time to shower again.
Unlike any of the other events we got invited to, this wasn’t an official thing.
The convention was held by one of our former instructors who liked to keep things casual.
It was touch-base session. Something he did to remind us that we’d always have each other and that there was always someone to reach out to if you needed it.
It was pretty fucking cool of him actually. He’d inherited well and also headed up a veterans’ center, but this was more of a lighthearted affair. It meant no uniforms, name badges, or rank-based dick measuring.
As much as I missed Lindsay with every fiber of my fucking being, I was getting amped up for a night with my brothers and sisters in the service while I got dressed. I couldn’t pine for her forever, and she’d made it pretty damn clear she didn’t want anything more to do with me.
Big Mac and his planets had been wrong. I’d seen the acceptance in her eyes when she’d told me no, and that was it. Maybe there were some people who couldn’t take a firm and sincere no, but there wasn’t really a question about it to my mind.
I didn’t want to let her go, but what was the alternative?
The taxi I’d ordered was right on time, and the driver didn’t make much conversation when he noticed my melancholic mood. Once Kavan was in the car, the two chatted a mile a fucking minute, but at least they left me to my thoughts.
Kavan looked like he wanted to say something once or twice, but eventually, he let it go. I’d heard plenty from him, my mom, and Shira. They knew where I stood on the whole thing, and they’d agreed to give it a rest over dinner at Mom’s.
When we arrived, Kavan fist-bumped the driver after I released his payment, together with a healthy tip for having left me alone, and then we were inside. Kavan had done one more tour after I’d gotten injured, and he went to greet some guys he knew from there while I headed to the bar.
I sidled in beside a guy nursing a drink and smiled sympathetically at him. “I see I’m not the only one who’s come to this party damaged.”
He whirled his head to the side to face me, chuckling as he shrugged. His blue eyes were piercing, but they had that happy shine in them that had nothing to do with booze.
“Yeah. I might’ve forgotten about this shindig tonight.”
I snagged a glass of craft beer from the barman and held it up. “Same here. I guess we’d better just suck it up though, right? No one’s going to take kindly to us if we’re the wet towels at the party.”
He bit out a strangled laugh. “Wet towels, huh? No. I refuse to be known as one of those. Have you smelled those things? They fucking reek.”
“Exactly.” We clinked our glasses together. “So, who broke you last night? I hope it’s a better story than mine.”
He groaned, shaking his head slowly. “My sister, if you’d believe it.
Of course, I stayed up way after she went to bed, drinking an exotic bottle of rum she had while telling myself I wasn’t fucking up all over again.
At least she seemed cool about it this morning.
She said she’d bought it at the airport but hadn’t been planning on drinking it anyway. ”
“Getting drunk with your sister is better than getting drunk with your mother.” I jabbed my thumb at my chest. “My mother and my best friend, who I’m pretty sure she’s adopted as her other son without telling me, broke me last night.”
He held up his fist and I bumped it. There was something so familiar about him, yet I knew I hadn’t served with him. “You get to claim mother and best friend, though. I only had my sister. Although she’s got enough drama going on at the moment to make up for ten fucking people. Jesus.”
My bar mate and I hit it off instantaneously, and a few drinks in, he held out his hand. “I’m Ethan. I’m deploying again in a few days, but I wanted to make the trip out to see my sister. Figured I might as well stay for the party.”
“Scott,” I said as I shook his hand, reverting to giving him my last name without even thinking about it. “It’s nice to meet you, Ethan.”
“Yeah. I was worried I would be the only hungover one here.”
We talked a little about where we’d been and what we’d seen before he tilted his head to the side, eyeballing me intently. “What’s bothering you, Scotty? You’re here with me, but you’re also not.”
I raked a hand through my hair, a little humiliated that I was so obvious. “Honestly? I’m fucked up about a girl.”
“Yeah?” He frowned, light blue eyes blazing with confusion as his lips twisted. “No offense, but you don’t seem like the type who gets fucked up about a girl.”
“That’s because I’m not.” I tapped my empty glass on the bar for a refill. “This girl though, man, she got under my fucking skin. I can’t shake her. No matter what I do.”
“Why aren’t you with her?” he asked, curious more than anything else. “You’re obviously not the shy, reserved type either.”
“She shot me down.” There was nothing more to it than that. “I wanted to be with her, but she said it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore.”
He laughed under his breath. “That sounds exactly like something my sister would say even if she still wanted to see that person. Fucking pride.”
“It’s not pride,” I objected. “It’s respect.”
“Then respect her enough to fight for her,” he roared, slamming his own nearly empty glass down on the counter before shooting me a shamefaced grin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come across so harshly. I’m just aggravated because my sister’s in love with this fucknut who doesn’t have any balls.”
“Commiserations,” I said. “I hope the guy comes to his senses.”
Ethan shoved a hand into his auburn hair, clearly frustrated but unwilling to talk about it any longer. “What about you? You coming to your senses?”
“It’s not like that with us. I fucked up and I let the only girl that I’ve loved slip between my fingers. Sad but fucking true.”
He gritted his teeth and slammed back against the low backrest of his chair. “Who are you to say she’s slipped between your fingers? Has she said it’s over in so many words?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” I fucking hated to think about the finality in her tone when she’d told me we were better off not seeing each other again, but I’d heard it. Anyone would’ve heard it.
Ethan let out a bitter laugh. He downed half his refill before he shook his head. “You should fight for her, Scotty. Fight until your fingers are stumps and you can’t fight anymore. You know what that’s like. You’ve done it for your country. Now do it for your girl.”
“And if she doesn’t want me to?”
He snarled. “If she doesn’t want you to, she’ll tell you. She deserves to know you’re willing to. Hell, I wish this dickhead my sister was into would fight for her.”
I didn’t know who Ethan’s sister was, but I knew he was right. Letting go without a fight was not only not in my nature, but it wasn’t fair.
Over and over again, I’d been told that I’d made a mistake with Lindsay. I’d come to terms with the fact that I had, but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know how desperately I wished I could turn back time and find a way to make her mine for real.
She didn’t know that I’d hardly slept since I’d last slept beside her. She couldn’t know that she was in just about every one of my thoughts or that I’d told my mother about her.
All of these things were my daily reality, but Lindsay didn’t know a thing. She thought I didn’t care. She thought she was the only one thinking back to Fiji as being the best and the worst time of her life.
I’d listened to her, but Ethan was right. “I should fight. Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
Slapping a hand down on his shoulder, I gave him a grateful squeeze before turning to leaving the venue. Ethan clasped his hand around my wrist, stopping me from moving before he held his phone out to me.
“I’ll be back in some or other dust bucket before it plays out, but shoot me a text on the other side of it, okay? I need to be able to tell my sister there are happy endings, and I’d like to use yours as an example.”
It was a weird request, but I understood where he was coming from. His sister had been hurt and he was leaving again soon. The only way he’d have to comfort her was vicariously through others’ stories.
I didn’t know if mine would have a happy ending, but updating a guy I liked and got along with wouldn’t be a chore. Either his sister would learn something from my story or she wouldn’t, but I didn’t mind keeping him up to date.
Hell, at least it would mean that there’s someone else out there rooting for us. Even if it is just that he’s silently rooting for the dickhead dating his sister to pull his head out of his ass.
Hell, if I could come around, couldn’t anyone?