The Henry Sessions Read online

  “I’m here,” I liked to tell her, to remind her that she wasn’t completely alone. “You still have me.”

  A byproduct of Jason’s death was that it cemented my relationship with Elsie and filled in the cracks between us. It was during that year of healing and changes that I finally admitted to myself that my feelings for Elsie were not going to go away; that, in fact, they had intensified due to our new bond. I knew she felt it too but neither of us acknowledged it out loud.

  We had just survived the biggest loss of our lives and were finally getting back to a new state of normalcy; we couldn’t very well go changing things all over again.

  13

  Who was it that said that the only constant is change? Heraclitus? Well, that guy spoke the damn truth.

  No matter how much I tried to keep things from changing, life always threw a curveball to remind me that I didn’t know jack shit.

  Elsie and her boyfriend Brian broke up in January. They had only been dating a few weeks before Jason’s death, and they were still just at the getting-to-know-you stage. He wasn’t staying overnight yet (though I’m pretty fucking sure that asshole got to know Elsie a few times at his own place). Brian seemed like a nice guy, but after we came back from California from Jason’s funeral, Brian just kind of freaked out. He didn’t know how to give Elsie the comfort that she needed so they broke up.

  She didn’t date that entire year but it wasn’t for lack of invitations. Guys from work asked me if I could fix them up. I just told them that she wasn’t ready yet, she was still too vulnerable from her brother’s death, which was a little truth-stretching on my part.

  Elsie and I spent more time together. I guess, from the outside, it looked as if I had made her my new best friend and she’d made me her new big brother. That wasn’t the way of it, at least on my end. Spending time with her felt natural because we had been doing it since we were kids. We went to movies, we ate at restaurants, we planned things around each other’s schedules. It was bittersweet, being with her but not really being with her, but we were together and for me—at that time—it was enough.

  Just when we got comfortable and content, fate pitched a screwball our way. I was told I’d be deploying for six months to Afghanistan.

  So how would you do it? How would you tell the person you love that you’ll be going to the same place that claimed her brother? Would you tell her right away or would you keep it a secret, like I did? Which one is the braver choice?

  For nearly two months I kept that damn secret because it was easier to carry silently than to see the inevitable look of worry on her face. If I could have kept her from the anxiety for even just one day, it would have all been worth it.

  Then that night at Tapwerks happened. She was trying to get me to talk by plying me with beer, but boy did that backfire when we got on the dance floor. I don’t think she meant to get so close to me and I certainly didn’t mean to shove my boner into her stomach—it just happened. Just like that, I could no longer hide how my body reacted to hers. Who knows what I would have done if she had stayed pressed against me on that dance floor one more second? I would have kissed her—that much was certain—but then what?

  I was thanking and cursing every deity for making her pull away.

  I had two weeks left before I deployed and I still hadn’t told her about Afghanistan. I was getting desperate. I finally decided to just bite the bullet and sit her down the next night. I’d get her favorite flowers, cook her dinner, light some candles, the works. Maybe if showed her a good time she might not freak out about the deployment.

  But then she found out a day too soon and reacted just as I’d feared. She was so angry, so hurt by the fact that I hadn’t told her, I was actually a little worried that she was going to punch me. I gave her some time to calm down, and even though it took a while, she eventually saw reason and forgave me.

  I knew, after the next morning when I woke up to her hands around my dick, that things were never going to be the same. God, that was… the most amazing thing to wake up to. Her hands were gentle and firm and insistent and when she woke up and realized what she had done, her skin turned this adorable shade of pink. I wanted to hug her and tell her that it was okay, that I didn’t feel violated—in fact, I wanted her to keep going—but I suspected from her reaction that she wasn’t ready to hear that yet.

  After she literally ran out of my room, I had a few moments with myself. I closed my eyes and pretended Elsie’s hand was still in my pants. At the risk of being crude, Doc, I’d have to say it was the best work I’d done in a while.

  To my surprise, Elsie kissed me that night, tasting like pizza sauce and pineapples and the sweet promise of release. I could have kissed her all night but then my damn conscience chose that moment to kick in. If I allowed it to continue, I would inevitably hurt her when I left in a little over a week. So even though it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, I pulled away for her sake. Maybe for mine too because now that I look back on it, I think I was a little afraid that the reality would not live up to the dream.

  One thing you don’t know about Elsie is that when she puts her mind to something she usually gets her way. I don’t know if it’s just plain tenacity or if it’s a quirk of the universe, but she often gets what she wants and apparently she’d decided that she wanted me.

  Not that I’m complaining. Not at all.

  She even brought home my favorite ribs to help with the seduction. It was so like her, to think that I would need anything else to be seduced when all I wanted was right in front of me, pushing her cleavage up for my view.

  I did everything I could to avoid the inevitable. I counted to five, ten, twenty. I thought about disgusting things like dead skunks, but nothing—nothing—could stop my desire from boiling over.

  I stalked over to her and boxed her in with my arms, making sure she couldn’t run away. “Do you have any clue what you do to me?” I asked her, hoping she could say something to bring me back to myself. I was lost in arousal. My entire brain was occupied with one thought: to make love to her. My body took over and pushed my erection into her stomach, a promise that I would do everything in my power to make her come over and over.

  Still, even as my body kept telling her to yield, my mouth kept asking her to stop. Why? I don’t know. Because I was afraid of what would happen if I finally got everything I’d ever wanted? I don’t know what scared me more: being with her and ruining the relationship or deploying and ruining our relationship. Every which way my brain analyzed it, the end result was always the ruin of the relationship.

  The body won out. I made love to her on that kitchen counter, first with my fingers then with my dick. She felt amazing wrapped around me and when she squeezed me, fuck, there were no words. Imagine the most wonderful feeling in the entire world—say, an orgasm—but prolong that, stretch it out, spread it thin, caress it over and over. It’s like that but multiplied by a thousand.

  It was frightening how well we fit together, like—and this is going to sound really mushy—coming home. After we came, I was so happy I burst. The feelings I’d kept near my heart lurched out of my throat and exploded out of my mouth. I finally told her that I was madly, stupidly in love with her.

  She said that she thought it had just been sex but there was no way that was all it was. There had been too much in our kisses, in the way she gripped me as if she was falling over the edge and intended on taking me with her. I knew she was in love with me; I just needed to wait until she remembered again.

  14

  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 of
f 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’ 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 deeply 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.

  15

  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 fuck-up.”

  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 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 towards 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’ll 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 gets across.

  16

  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.