Disarm (17 page)

Elsie and I spent the next few days wrapped around each other. Every moment we had, we made sure I was inside her, making love to her. She eventually told me that she loved me. I'd always known it and the past few days made it abundantly clear that she was in love with me as well, but to hear those words coming out of her mouth was what I imagine heaven must feel like. To have her completely, body and heart, was like realizing a dream.

Then, like all love stories, we were knocked off cloud nine when my deployment was moved up. I didn't say anything while we were waiting for that bus on base, not because I didn't have anything to say but because if I opened my mouth, I'd probably tear up and lose some macho credibility. There was no way I was going to cry in front of other airmen, but trust me, I wanted to, especially when Elsie broke down. I just held her against my chest and let her cry, taking in deep breaths to keep my emotions in check. It was only for six months, I kept telling myself. Surely we could keep it together for six months.

Elsie was certain I'd end up dead like Jason, which made me more determined to make it out of there alive. I was going to come home and be with her,
really
be with her. We'd been separated enough.

That was the thought that kept me company through the deployment, that kept me from going crazy with uncertainty and worry.

When that fucker blew up the gate on base, I wasn't worried for my safety. I didn't even think when I ran out of my office after the explosion; I was actually fired up. I would finally get to see some action. The aftermath of a VBIED explosion is not as awful as Hollywood would make you believe. I mean, yeah, there's a whole lot of shit that gets blown up but there's no mushroom cloud, no debris raining down from the sky.

It was just a big fucking hole in the ground, a vehicle in flames, and a missing gate.

We found Jones's body a few feet away and not far from the truck was the mangled body of that fucker who brought that bomb on base. As I stared down at his body—he was only a bleeding torso after the explosion—I was overcome with so much anger, but I knew my men were watching, as were others, so I kept it together. What I really wanted to do was get out my M-16 and just shoot the hell out of the asshole, dead as he was. Then I wanted to scour Kabul and the countryside for that fucker who killed Jason, killing anyone who got in my way until I'd avenged my best friend.

I was filled with blood lust. I was a berserker. I was insane with rage.

I bottled all of that up because I couldn't lose my shit, else I get sent home and kicked out of the military.

That anger stayed with me, simmering under the surface until I got home. Only the joy of seeing Elsie again kept me from complete destruction. The only time I felt completely at peace was when I was inside her. For those few precious moments, nothing else mattered, nobody else existed but me and my girl. Until the night I found out that my friend Dave had kissed her. Then all bets were off.

All of the anger that I thought I was successfully handling rose to the surface. I punched that dickhole without even thinking about what it would do to my career. Everything I'd been feeling came to a head and all of this anger poured forth from me and onto Elsie. She didn't deserve to bear the brunt of it but I couldn't stop myself. Things came out of my mouth that I didn't even know had been bothering me.

And that's what brought me here, Doc. The very thought that I could lose Elsie if I didn't figure my shit out. She wanted me to get help, she wanted me to become the old Henry, the one that she knew before I left for Afghanistan.

The thing is, I don't know who that guy is anymore. He was nice and steady, easygoing and cool. He was, in essence, Jason.

I never told Elsie this but after Jason died, I felt lost. I started to get the feeling that I wasn't always composed, I wasn't unshakable, and I have deep-seated insecurities. That guy that Elsie knew all her life—he was a bit of an impostor, just a copycat of her brother. He's not the real me.

I did what you asked me to do, Doc. I went through my old stuff. My parents had it boxed up in the attic, but it was all there: the football jerseys, the yearbooks, the Matchbox toys.

I put everything in two piles: one before the Shermans and one after. The
before
pile was pretty sad, just little toy guns and trains and boxes and boxes of Legos. I had a lot of little motorcycle toys, especially this little red Ducati.

I'd always wanted a motorcycle. I mentioned one time at dinner that I was going to buy a Harley as soon as I'd saved up enough money but the colonel told this story about one of his guys in his squadron who had crashed his motorcycle and lost a leg. John had sounded so disapproving and it made me push that idea aside.

The
after
pile was much larger. It was like my life began when the Shermans came into my life.

I talked to my parents last night. I waited up until they both got home, then I called a family meeting. I think they actually sat down in the living room more out of curiosity than anything else. The last time I'd called a family meeting was when I was five or so, when I'd listed out what I wanted for my birthday.

This time I listed out what I wished they'd given me my whole life.

When I was done my mother had tears in her eyes. My dad was looking at the floor between his feet, his hands clasped together.

“I'm sorry, Henry,” he said. “I'm a fuckup.”

I didn't refute his words because they were true.

“So you've hated us all your life?” Mom asked.

“How could you not have noticed?” I asked. “Oh, maybe because you weren't around to notice.”

“I'm sorry,” Mom said. “I wish you'd told us sooner.”

“Would that have made you take on fewer clients?” I turned to Dad. “Would that have made you spend less time with your friends or in your man cave?”

Mom looked at me with those eyes I'd inherited. “Of course.”

“I don't think that's true,” I said.

“How—”

“I remember telling you when I was still in elementary school. I asked you to take one day off from work so you could be the class helper. Do you remember what you told me?”

She shook her head.

“You said you didn't have enough time, that you were too busy.”

Mom dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

“I asked you too, Dad, and you said kids were not your thing. That you might end up strangling each and every one of us by the end of the day.”

The fact that he wouldn't look me in the eye made me realize one thing about myself: No matter what, I was at least man enough to look the person I'd wronged in the eye. The revelation was a little bit of a relief and it made me feel a little more lenient toward my parents.

“Well, it's all in the past,” I said, getting to my feet.

Mom grabbed my hand. She stood up and wrapped her arms around me, hugged me like she didn't know how. “I'm really sorry, Henry. I had no idea,” she said. “I just hope someday you won't have to choose between your career and your family. Especially in your line of work, your family will always come second.”

I pulled away, not sure how to take her words. “I will never be like you,” I said, even though I knew her words held a grain of truth. The military would always come first as long as I was in the service.

“I hope not.” She let me go with a sigh. “I'll make you a promise, Henry. If you ever have children, I will be the best grandmother to them. I will always be there for them. You can count on that.”

Dad stood up and nodded. “Me too.”

“You hate kids,” I said to him with too much venom.

“It might change,” he said noncommittally.

I just shook my head and left because I had nothing left to say. I had aired my grievances and they had said their piece. There was no building of the bridges; the islands had drifted too far apart. For now, we would just yell at each other across the divide and hope that the message got across.

Elsie came to me in a dream last night.

I woke up this morning with her naked body in my arms. Some time in the night, she'd snuck in through my bedroom window and climbed into bed with me. I'll spare you the details, Doc, but damn, it was the best possible way to wake up.

God, I love that girl. She keeps me on my toes. She makes me laugh, makes me crazy, makes me insanely happy. I honestly don't know what I'd do with myself if she weren't in my life. I wouldn't be the man that I am today, that's for sure.

Our mothers found us in bed together. Luckily, we were under the covers but there's no mistaking what she was doing in my bed. The cat was out of the bag. I guess, eventually, they had to know about Elsie and me. I just never imagined that's how they'd find out.

They were all in the dining room when Elsie and I emerged from my bedroom, all looking so amused. I didn't know why I was so nervous since I'm a grown-ass man and Elsie is an adult, but my knees were shaking when the colonel stood up and walked up to us. When he lifted his hand, I swear, I thought he was going to punch me. I would have deserved it. I was boning his daughter after all.

The colonel just gave me an approving slap on the shoulder and said that he knew I would take care of his daughter, that I was a good man.

That just killed me—his complete trust in me. Here I thought he was going to berate me for taking advantage of his daughter but instead he gave me the highest compliment. He still has many contacts in the Air Force; he could have killed my career with one phone call. Instead he gave us his blessing.

His approval brought my relationship with Elsie to a whole other level. It made everything so real. There's nothing left holding us back anymore. The deployment, the anger, her parents' disapproval; they're all gone. It was just the two of us now. And I have to admit, Doc, that that scares me a little because now there's nothing obstructing her view of me. What if the man she sees is not actually the one she wants?

I'm just overthinking this again, aren't I? I should just relax and live in the moment and enjoy the fact that Elsie and I are together, that we're in love, and that we have the whole future ahead of us.

Last night, Elsie and I attended an engagement party for my friends from high school. Hass and Kelly had been dating since junior year so everyone assumed they would get married as soon as we graduated, but they broke up some time in college. They didn't talk for years and then ran into each other again at a grocery store just a few months ago. They were engaged not too long after that.

Elsie's theory is that Hass and Kelly just needed some time apart to grow, which makes a lot of sense. We need to know ourselves before we can be with anyone else.

During the party, I had a chance to catch up with Nina. The conversation was nice and mellow. She really seemed like a different person from the girl I knew in high school, more mature and introspective.

“Have you ever wondered what our lives would be like if we didn't grow up with the same people?” she asked as she looked around at all of our friends.

It was such a simple, innocent question but somehow it stuck with me.

Now Nina's and Elsie's words are swimming in my head and making my stomach hurt because I can't help but wonder how I would have turned out if the Shermans had never moved into my street, if I never had Jason's friendship, or the colonel's guidance, or Elodie's mothering.

Or all of Elsie.

It fucking hurts to even think that way but I can't help it now. It's in my head. Did I turn out the way I was supposed to, or did the Shermans somehow mold me into a different person?

In one night, I'm suddenly lost. I have no idea who the hell I am.

And what's worse is that this person, this version of Henry that Elsie fell in love with, might not be the real me. I don't even know who the real me is anymore.

Would I have graduated high school without Jason?

Would I have entered the Air Force without the colonel's guidance?

Would I have just turned to a life of crime, married some girl, and popped out five kids?

What if the only reason Elsie fell in love with me is because I was all she's ever known? If I hadn't been around all the time, would she still even be interested in someone like me or would she be married to some tool like John?

My biggest fear is waking up somewhere down the road and realizing that my love for Elsie is just affectionate and not passionate love. And worse, that she discovers that about me. That would tear me up the most because, knowing her, she would stay with me out of some moral obligation because that's the kind of person she is. She loves until the end.

I couldn't do that to her, to trap her in a lukewarm relationship with a man who had no sense of identity. The guilt would eat me up alive and I'd end up ruining what we have.

I want Elsie to be with the person she loves passionately, someone she
chose
to be with rather than someone fate just imposed on her.

Yes, even if that person is not me.

You asked me before I left yesterday if anything from these sessions has given me any insight and my answer is yes. I've realized that the only thing I've been able to talk about is Elsie. She's the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thought in my head before I fall asleep. I'm obsessed with her. She is everything.

I love Elsie enough to let her go and grow on her own, to let her find herself without my shadow looming over her. Then, if we are truly meant to be, I will find her and fight like hell to make her love me again.

I told Elsie yesterday. She was furious. I feel like, instead of getting rid of my anger and resentment, I've somehow just infected her with it. But Elsie, being the person that she is, tried to understand where I was coming from. She didn't beg me to stay. She let me go.

Did that disappoint me?

Maybe. Maybe I wanted her to fight for me, but that would have just made it harder. Elsie has never tried to hold me back—I love that about her—but I think I might have changed my mind if she'd just asked me to stay. I don't know. I feel like I can't think straight anymore.

I don't know if maybe I'm just intentionally putting another obstacle in the way of my happiness, if I'm just sabotaging this perfect relationship because deep down I think I don't deserve to be happy. Or maybe I'm just making rationalizations for my fucked-up brain.

Whatever it is, I need to figure myself out before I do something stupid. Yes, even more stupid than breaking up with the only person who's ever mattered to me. I need to sort through my shit before I can even think about being with her again. She deserves that much.

But God, that look on her face when I said good-bye . . .

Doc, I need you to tell me that I did the right thing.

Please.