I shake my head, staring down at my drink. “Shit, I don’t know, man. I just can’t get my head out of my own ass lately. I mean, you have Arden and Dahlia. And your family is amazing, man. I’m happy for you. I love being an uncle.”
Just thinking about my baby niece fills me with warmth. She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, even though holding her makes me feel like I’m Bigfoot.
“But helping you navigate coming back after your accident? That did something for me. And before that, being deployed? Having a mission? It fueled a fire inside my soul, you know? I’m just missing that right now. I mean, being a mobility specialist is fucking rewarding as hell. Don’t get me wrong.”
It was the career path I chose when I left the Air Force, shortly after my brother’s Honorable Discharge. I wanted—no, I needed—to help him get back on his feet. I’m good at it, and I like working with my clients. But it’s not the same as it was when I was helping my own brother.
“And you’ve got the whole thing with Mom and Dad’s company. Sage-Jackson Corporation has never been more successful than it has been under your leadership. I couldn’t have done what you have. I just need to find my…” I trail away, suddenly lost for words.
Flash leans forward. The sunglasses shielding his gaze reflect the light from the downtown Savannah bar’s ceiling. “Purpose?”
It sounds so cliché. I sigh. “Yeah. I guess.”
Just then, Arden slides into the booth beside her husband. I assess them, noting the happiness that radiates off of them both the second they’re within five feet of one another. Arden aims light green eyes right at me. “You guys doing okay over here?” She places her drink, something red and fruity, down on the table. “Your conversation looks way too serious for a fun night out.”
Flash leans over to kiss her cheek. “We’re going just fine, Bunny.” His pet name for her rolls right off his tongue, making my eyes flip skyward. If I didn’t love them both, they’d make me sick. “B here yet?”
My ears perk up without my permission. The same way they do every time Arden’s best friend Brantley is mentioned. We’ve been thrown together ever since my brother and her best friend met, whether we wanted to be or not.
And, if I’m being honest with myself, I never really minded.
Arden pulls her phone out of the clutch purse she’s carrying. “Oh, she said she and Parker are leaving now in an Uber.”
I catch movement at the door of the bar and lift my hand in a greeting. “And there’s Armstrong.”
Alonzo Armstrong strides toward our table, an imposing figure who creates a wave in the crowded bar as people part to let him pass. A towering black man with light brown skin and a shiny bald head, Alonzo is built like a tank.
“Alonzo!” Arden stands, rising to her tiptoes to reach his neck so she can wrap him in a hug. She disappears as he engulfs her in his arms.
“Good to see you, girl.” His deep voice rumbles out of him.
Reaching over Arden, Alonzo shakes Flash’s hand and then mine.
“Good to see you, bro.” I offer Alonzo a grin. “How’s office life treating you?”
Alonzo took a job at Sage-Jackson recently when he arrived in Savannah after leaving the army. Our paths crossed more than once during joint-force operations. We bonded, and he became like another brother to us. He wasn’t sure where he’d land after he left the service, and Flash pressed him to come use his skills as a systems analyst—something he did behind the scenes in the army—at our company.
Alonzo grunts. “Hot as hell down here in Savannah, you boys know that, right?”
Laughing, I rub the scruff forming on my chin. Usually, I’m clean-shaven, but it’s been a few days since I shaved. I’ve had a lot on my mind. “Yeah, man. We like our heat and humidity down here in the south.”
“Well, you know me being from the Bronx, I don’t know a damn thing about this nonsense.” Alonzo rubs the top of his head.
Flash grins. “You’ll like it in January, when it isn’t snowing, and you don’t have to shovel a driveway.”
Alonzo chuckles. “Yeah, I know that’s right. I’m going to grab a beer, you good?”
We both lift our glasses, and Alonzo heads to the bar.
“How do you think he’s settling in, really?” Arden’s worry-laced voice rises above the din of the bar. “I feel responsible for his happiness because we’re the only people he really knows in Savannah.”
Flash pulls her in close, and she perches back on the edge of the booth. “He’s doing just fine. Alonzo’s never had any trouble fitting in, despite the fact that he comes across like a freaking ogre at first. Everyone at the office loves him already.”
She smiles, resting her head on my brother’s shoulder, and I’m hit with another pang of envy. I realize, not for the first time, that I want what my brother has. Something real to come home to at night. Something real, something lasting, that’ll carry me through the good times and the bad ones. If I had that, maybe I wouldn’t be floundering with a lack of purpose in my life right now.
“In the name of all that is holy, Axel, if you don’t smile.”
Startled, I glance up from the glossy tabletop to find Arden staring daggers at me.
I lift one eyebrow, killing the rest of my bourbon with one gulp. “What?”
She scowls. “It’s looking like I’m going to have to take care of all my boys tonight. I need you to loosen up, Axel! Where’s my fun-loving, always-smiling, brother-in-law?”
With maximum effort, I push down all the deep and dark feelings I’ve been having and glue a genuine smile onto my face. Because for Arden, it’s not that hard. She might as well be a real sister to me, for all the love I have for her. I watched Arden forcibly walk my brother through one of the hardest personal trials a human could endure—the loss of his sight. With the exception of the death of our parents, I’ve never seen Flash in that kind of pain. It was brutal, and he was ugly and mean and all kinds of broken. But when they met, so was she. They healed each other. I’ll always love her for that, no questions asked.
I drum both palms flat against the table and shake off my funk. “Right. No taking care of me required. I’m back, baby.”
Arden flips her long blond hair over her shoulder, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “Atta boy.”
Sliding out of the booth, I join Alonzo at the bar. He’s just grabbed his beer, and I ask the bartender for another Maker’s Mark. She nods, filling a tumbler with honey-brown liquid. Alonzo and I turn and lean against the counter, backs against the wood, surveying the crowded room.
“You ever miss being up in that F-22?” Alonzo aims his question at me without glancing my way, taking a healthy swig out of his bottle. His big body relaxed, his ankles crossed one over the other, he’s the picture of chilled calm. But his eyes rove the bar, his senses taking in every aspect of our surroundings the way he’s been trained to do.
It’s ingrained in him, the way it’s been pounded into all of us. If you’ve served, you observe what’s going on around you. It’s a fact of your life that doesn’t go away, even when you’re no longer wearing the uniform or carrying the sidearm.