Compassion (22 page)

Archer

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I reach for my bottle of water off the break room counter, thankful the break hit when it did.

Not sure I could've made it another forty five minutes without time to stop for a damn drink. If I've learned anything over the last six weeks it's Wednesdays are the worst fucking day and the biggest shipments. The fact it's fucking hot enough to roast marshmallows on the ground before the sun is even up doesn't help either. Not complaining. It feels good to have a purpose outside the house every day. Don't worry. It didn't slow down the remodeling of the master bedroom. It's been a process, but it's finally finished. It's now a place we're both comfortable calling ours.

Doug, one of the men at the table, stops laughing and looks over his shoulder at me. “What about you Archer? You interested?”

I lean against the counter. “In what?”

“Beer and wings at The Dig after work,” he offers. “After an ass beater like this I think we earned it.”

The other guys laugh and mumble as I answer, “Um…no ride.”

“You don't have a car?” Kenneth, the red head sitting across from him questions.

“Nope.” Clearing my throat I state, “My girl drops me off in the morning and picks me up in the afternoon.”

“My woman does that too,” one of the other men whose name I don't remember says.

Doug shrugs. “I can give you a ride home.”

“I'm givin' dick breath down there a ride home,” another worker says, tilting his head at the guy whose girlfriend apparently drops him off too.

“Think you could air that truck out of yours this time? That thing wreaks of ass and old fish,” he complains, tossing the last bite of a breakfast sandwich in his mouth.

“Sorry it doesn't smell like roses for you princess,” the other guy pokes fun at him while the rest of the table laughs.

The conversation shifts focus but Doug doesn't. He stands to throw his trash away as he says, “Hey, if you don't wanna come, fuck it. But if you do I don't mind giving that ugly mug of yours a ride home.”

Still apprehensive about it, I sigh, “I've got dinner plans with my girl and her family tonight.”

He gives me a stern look. “Can the in law cook?”

“What the hell does that matter?”

“So I know whether we should encourage you to eat your body weight in wings or make sure to leave room for her cooking.” He laughs and delivers a good pop to the chest. “Fucking with ya Archer. I'll make sure to have you home for your curfew Cinderella. I'll even make sure you have both your glass slippers.”

The dick head joke is followed with another laugh before he heads out the side door for a smoke.

Having another drink of my water, I let my eyes drift down to my work boots.

This is the first time I've ever been invited to do anything. When I started they kept their distance, unsure if I would work out or not. Apparently box bitch boy has a high turnover rate. Guess now that they see I'm not going anywhere they figure what the hell. Am I really over thinking this? Why do I feel like a fucking chick?

“So you comin' or what?” Kenneth questions having another bite of his burrito. I shrug, which he takes as a yes. “Good. If I can get David just drunk enough he tells us these crazy stories about his wife and the kinky shit she wants to do. Most of the time we think he's full of shit, but it's funny as fuck.”

Not sure if I wanna hear that shit or not I simply give him a nod before taking my phone out to text Jaye.

She made me get this before I started working here. In fact the day I got the job we went out and got one. She explained that the land line couldn't come with me to work and I fucked her for being too sassy. It was a good day. I rarely use the thing other than to shoot her a message every now and again, that I'm thinking about her or checking on her day. Or...in this case...that I'm going out with co-workers. Fuck...in less than a year I've gone from suicidal to social. Huh. Crazy what a little compassion can do to a person huh?

Epilogue

Jaye

Two weeks before Christmas...

“You look handsome,” my mother coos at Archer. “But your tie is crooked.”

Instinctively he turns towards me to fix it. With a wide smile, I straighten out the black bow tie and deliver a quick peck on the lips. “All better.”

“Is everyone ready?” He warmly asks pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“How drunk am I allowed to get?” my dad asks grabbing his coat. “Archer
is
designated driver and every drink is for a good cause...”

“Charles,” my mother scolds him.

The yearly charity event that our school holds in the winter always raises money for a specific charity picked out by an employee. It's a combination of our Christmas party and a fundraiser. The employee’s tickets are bought and paid for along with one guest, while the parents and the community are allowed to buy tickets to the silent auction, the dinner, and the cash bar. All proceeds are donated to the charity. There's also a toy drive that happens every year, despite where the cash proceeds end up. This year, I flagged Presley down early and put in my suggestion for helping the homeless. She agreed, did the research and when the time came it's the one she picked. I was so excited! Hell, I'm still excited.

“Have as many as you like sir,” Archer suggests helping me put my coat on. “That goes for everyone. Just have a good time.”

The four of us exit my parents’ house for the SUV parked beside the side walk.

No, I didn't buy it for him. He continued to refuse my help. He's so damn stubborn. He wanted to save for a down payment and make the car payment
and
try to reimburse me for all the money I shelled out before he got a job. I agreed he should use the money he was earning to pay for his own car but begged for him to let me help with the down
payment. He yet again refused. I may have lost the battle, but I won the war. We took my parents with us to look at cars and SUVs and when it came time to give the down payment, my mother matched what he'd saved. It was her way of showing how proud she was he had made it that far. Almost like a peace offering. After that moment everything   began to smooth over. Family dinners became less awkward and more frequent. They even came over for a meal Archer cooked. Things aren't perfect, but they're the best they've been in a long time.

Once we're all piled in the black vehicle, he drives us across town to the swanky hotel it's being hosted in. My eyes glance at the dog tags that dangle from the mirror and I smile sweetly to myself.

After a conversation with Dr. Jenny he agreed to her suggestion of letting his past and present find a way to co-exist. He hung his tags in the car. She also suggested trying a creative outlet to express some of the harder emotions. One day while I was working on my book, he came in and tried to write a poem about some of the pain he was still dealing with. It ended up just making him severely frustrated and we agreed he could keep working on his 'creativity' with remodels. You should see our backyard now...

The car ride is filled mainly with football arguments between my two favorite men with the occasional side comment from my mom. After turning the car over to the valet, Archer takes our coats to check them while my dad wanders away towards a man carrying some sort of shrimp appetizer.

My mother loops her arm through mine. “You know Jaye, I was thinking, maybe this year for Christmas dinner,
you
help cook.”

Surprised by the suggestion, my jaw hits the ground. “Is someone sick? Or dying?”

She giggles as we make our way to the bar. “No. No. I know you used to want that...back when....well. And I know Caroline didn't like sharing that responsibility any more than I did, but, I think it might be a good idea this year.”

I order two glasses of champagne and quietly ask, “You think they'll be okay meeting Archer?”

“They'll be fine,” she brushes off the idea. “They never wanted you to waste your life mourning after their son. Hell, you're like a daughter to them, the same way Chris was like a son to us. They just want you happy and Archer...Archer makes you happy.”

My mom takes the drinks at the same time I pay the bartender. Unable to help myself I gush, “He really does...”

“And I think that's what scares me,” she says in a hushed tone. I drop the change from the bill into the tip jar, take my drink she offers, and lift my eyebrows. “Honey, I know Chris wasn't right for you. He was...a good guy. Very business driven. Very single track minded. You were always more an accessory to him than a part of his life. But he was good to you and what more does a mother want than to know her daughter is taken care of?” We continue our walk towards the area where everyone seems to be mingling. “And I know, we didn't raise you to be anything less than independent, but your father took care of me. Not financially, no, but was always there. He always did everything he had to do to make sure I was taken care of. I wanted that for you. Chris came from a wonderful family, he was basically the son I never had, he was so well off, you got along great, I just assumed the rest of the pieces would fall into place. That you would learn to love him.”

“I did love him,” I object. “I loved every day we were together and many after.”

“Yes.” She nods. “You just weren't
in
love with him.”

Hearing her say the very thing I concluded months ago out loud shoves the wine glass to my lips.

“And you never would've been. You would've never been truly happy,” my mom confesses. “And I think knowing that and ignoring that made me livid. Not with you, but with myself for not...just encouraging you to do whatever it was going to take to make you happy even if that meant not marrying him. Not having kids with him. A future...a future with someone else.”

The revelation hits me like a sucker punch just as my eyes land on Archer who is calmly searching for me. Seeing him in a suit and tie causes the muscles he loves to wear out to ache for his touch.

I kid you not, right before we left to pick my parents up. Fancy clothes sex? A lot of fun.

My bottom lip slips between my teeth.

“He's a good man,” she whispers in my ear. “I know that now.”

Seconds later Archer is front of us with a wide grin. “There you ladies are.”

“And here I go,” my mother declares. “I have to find Charles who is probably sucking back shrimp drenched in cocktail sauce.”

Shaking her head she exits leaving the two of us alone. Sweetly he says, “She worries too much.”

I slide a hand down his chest. “I think she just has a mother's know best policy she's not willing to shake just yet.”

He chuckles and slides his hands around my waist. “Does she know best about me?”

Playfully I nod. “She's come around.”

Archer’s lips land next to my ear. “I can't wait to make you come again...”

I swat at his chest while my face heats.

Gosh, how bad am I blushing?

“Jaye?” The sound of my boss' voice has me peering around Archer's frame. “Hey!”

“Hey!” I greet her as Archer slides out of the way and tucks me into his side. “Archer this is my boss, Presley Morrison. Presley this is my boyfriend, Archer Cox.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” They shake before she makes her own introduction. “Jaye Jenkins and Archer Cox, I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Ryder Collins.”

Very attractive. Less dreamy than blue eyed, innocent Merrick, but he totally has that tall, brooding, tortured soul thing some chicks...like me, think is amazing. I have my tortured soul except I like to think I've helped free it some.

I extend my hand to shake his at the same time Presley says, “Jaye is our school's librarian and the one who helped me pick and coordinate this event.”

“That's amazing,” he replies, a smirk finding its way onto his face. “I think you picked a great cause. There are many people who struggle with stability in life. For them, places like shelters are often miracles enclosed in four walls.”

“A little compassion can go a long way,” Archer adds with a tug into him.

Is that an eyes off my girl tug? Ryder's engaged to my boss! What? Jealousy sex is hot too? Really?

“Agreed.” Ryder nods at him before looking down at his wife to be. “I couldn't have said it better myself.”

Presley peers at him with a gleam in her eyes I know all too well. She pecks a kiss on his lips before turning back towards me. The second she lifts her glass I follow suit. “Here's to hoping people learn to show a little more compassion.”

“Here. Here.” We clink while the men simply watch.

I can't think of a better thing for people to show more of. Can you?