“That sounds great, Avery. All of the paperwork has been approved by HR, so I’d love to welcome you to the team. We’ll see you next Monday.” I hang up the phone and grab a pen, crossing that item off of my list. New girl hired, check.
Now, if I can just get the rest of my list completed. I glance at my week’s schedule in my day planner, ignoring the inevitable date that looms tomorrow, and figure I can power through my “to dos” as I have no more shifts at The House this week.
That is if I can get motivated.
I have no one to blame for my lethargic pace this morning except for myself. Well and Haddie since she instigated the fourth, or was it fifth, bottle of wine. At least my headache has abated some so I can think without the hangover pounding in the background.
I grab the pile I’ve been avoiding, budgetary crap that takes too much time and in the end just gets overruled by the bosses upstairs, but I need to get through it. I sigh in fortification when I hear a tap at my door. I swear the next few moments take place in slow motion but I know they didn’t.
When I look up, I cry out loudly and jump up in shock as I meet eyes that mirror mine. I round my desk and run full force into the arms of my brother. Tanner wraps them around me, spins around once, squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe. All of the fear over his safety, anguish over not hearing from him, and loneliness from not having him near, vanish and manifest themselves in the tears that run down my cheeks in happiness.
He sets me back down on my feet and eases his hold on me, but I cling to him tightly and bury my face in his chest needing this connection with him. When I can’t stop crying, he just holds on and kisses the top of my head. “If I knew I was going to get this kind of welcome, I’d come home more often,” he says before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me back, his eyes searching mine. “What is it, Bubs?”
I smile at hearing the name he’s called me our whole lives. I think I’m in shock. “Let me look at you,” I manage, stepping back and running my hands over his arms. He looks a little older and a lot tired. Fine lines fan at the corners of his weary eyes, and the creases edging his mouth have deepened some in the six months since I have seen him last. His copper hair is a little longer than usual, curling up at the collar. But he is alive and whole and in front of me. The wrinkles make him more attractive somehow, adding a little ruggedness to his dynamic features. “Still ugly I see?”
“And you’re even more beautiful,” he recites, an exchange we’ve said at least a thousand times over the years. He holds out my arms to look at me and shakes his head as if he can’t believe I am standing in front of him. “God is it good to see you!”
I grab a hold of him again and laughter bubbles up. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re in the states?” I pull on his hand, bringing him into my office, not wanting to let go of him just yet.
“I flew in to San Diego and stayed with them last night. I’m leaving for Afghanistan this afternoon on a sudden assignment—”
“What?” I just get him back and now he’s going to leave me again. “What do you mean you’re leaving again?”
“Can you leave? Go to lunch with me and we can talk?”
“Of course.”