Page 44 of Written in the Charts

Thurlow’s face was a great indicator to me that our meeting was not going to go well. I sat anxiously waiting for him just outside his office while Serah and he talked about something. I tried to make out the details of their conversation, but their hushed voices through the heavy wood door made it difficult. The office was busy too, which didn’t help.

When the door opened and Serah called my name, I jumped. I was a little too anxious to hear the conclusion Thurlow had arrived at. I stood and followed her into the dim office, noting the same menacing backlighting behind the major. He rose to greet me, extending a hand. I took his hand, thankful that he offered a more casual atmosphere once again. This situation was tense enough without having to do the pomp and circumstance of military customs.

“Sir,” I said, gripping his hand tightly. He nodded and let go, gesturing to the seats. All three of us sat in the same positions we’d sat in months ago, before I’d gone in for the imaging tests. Since then, I’d left base only twice. Once to get my final injection of platelets from Dr. Marshal, and once to help Derek with shoeing the horses.

“Well, Miller, the results are in. They’ve been in for a month and I’ve been sitting on this trying to decide what to do.” Thurlow pushed a file at me, but I merely glanced at it. It was probably full of medical terminology that I wouldn’t understand. What I really needed at that moment was for him to just tell me whether I got the job or not.

I had decided weeks ago that I wasn’t telling Gypsy whether I got promoted or not. The ship of our relationship had passed like a ghost in the night. We hadn’t spoken once since I found out about the pregnancy and left that voicemail. The closest we’d come to it was when I sent the message via the gatekeeper to tell her to leave. No, if I got this promotion, I’d be off for nine months where I could clear my head. I’d come back and hopefully at least be able to be a part of my child’s life—if it was my child. I’d still have her prove paternity with a test.

“So, what’s the verdict?” I asked, eager to hear what the brass said about my results.

“It’s not favorable, Evan.” Thurlow sat back, leaving one hand resting on his desk. He frowned. “They’re not giving you the deployment.”

My heart sank. I chewed on the inside my lip rather than blowing up at him. There was a good likelihood that the decision was over his head, and telling him off wouldn’t do me any good, anyway. Once a decision was made, it was final. I would have no say. I sighed, hiding my anger, though Serah could probably sense it. She knew me too well.

“There’s more.”

My eyes turned up to take in his face. “What’s that?” I was here to find out if I was promoted and being shipped out. What more could he have to tell me? I glanced at Serah, whose face was turned downward so I couldn’t see her expression. She only did that when she had something to hide. In the split second between my question and his answer, I looked at him, then her, then back at him, panic rising in my chest.

“The brass has made a choice that surprised me. I’m not entirely sold on it as being the only option, but it is what it is.” He straightened in his seat and clasped his hands over his stomach. “There is a position open here at Yellow Springs. It would be only a rank-up to First Sergeant, but you’d have command over more leaders here. It would come with an increase in pay and leave time. Still an NCO, but better all around.”

“A desk job?” I seethed, realizing it was more than just a desk job. It just wasn’t the job I wanted. I wanted to go back overseas. “What about going overseas? That’s where I want to be.”

“I’m sorry, Miller. That’s not going to happen again. Not only do you have severe patellar tendonitis, but you have a meniscal root tear. You need surgery, and after that, you’re not going to get clearance to jump. You can’t jump. You can’t go in the field.” He sighed, grimacing. “You know they take this stuff pretty seriously.”

I shook my head, biting my tongue so I wouldn’t speak. I had no choice now. I still had eighteen months on my current contract, so the only thing I could do was grin and bear it. It meant more pay, but it meant being further from the action. Not only was I not in combat anymore, but I couldn’t even be boots on the ground with training.

“Yes, sir,” I said stiffly, rising as he did to shake his hand again, though I’d have liked to just storm out. I’d get away with that if it were just Serah, but the major would never tolerate it.

“Alright then, you’ll hear from me soon about the new position starting next week or the week after. You’ll get an advance on the salary, and if you are agreeable, we can get you in for surgery to fix that knee up this summer.”

I nodded, ignoring the expression on his face that told me he wanted a response. I walked out, Serah on my heels. She had to jog to keep up with my strides, and I didn’t care. I needed to put distance between myself and Thurlow before I blew my top. Her interference had cost me the promotion. If they hadn’t done the imaging tests, they’d never have seen what they did, and I’d be out there serving right now.

“Evan...” she said, grabbing at my elbow. I slammed the door open, the burst of cold air taking my breath away. I smashed my hat on my head and started for my apartment. It was my day off. I just wanted her to fuck off so I could go relax in peace.

“Evan!” she snapped, this time yanking me by my elbow. “Stop and talk to me.”

“Fuck you, Jones.” I wrestled out of her grip and glared at her. “You ruined my career. Your stupid, nosy—”

“Stop it!” She scowled at me, and I watched her hands turn to fists. “I’ve taken enough of your shit for the past several months. I know you’re not just upset about the job. What the hell is going on! Was it the girl? It’s not your baby?”

My chest heaved. I was furious. Of course it was the job. I hadn’t spoken to Gypsy in weeks. How could I be angry enough with her to blow up like this? Why didn’t Serah see that I really wanted to go back overseas?

“You tell me what you’re so upset about. That’s an order.” I saw her lip quiver and knew she was trying to be a good friend, but she was going about it the wrong way. She couldn’t order me to talk about my feelings with her.

“You can’t do that and you know it. I’m going home. If you have a real order for me, you can leave a voicemail. It’s my fucking day off. You’ve done enough to wreck my life, don’t you think?”

I turned and walked away. I lost the promotion due to her nosiness. So it was a bit of pain. I could handle it. I was doing just fine without her interference. And the PRP therapy Gypsy had me on was helping a lot. The pain was tolerable now with just over the counter pain medication. I didn’t give a single fuck what the imaging tests said. I was fine.

I was no calmer when I got to my apartment than I had been telling Serah off. I grabbed a cold beer and cracked it, slumping down on the couch. There were a smattering of messages from Gypsy that I hadn’t even bothered to open for weeks, so I opened her messages one at a time. She’d sent a sonogram picture to me, which made me sad. I had almost given up the promotion on my own just to be with her after seeing how upset she was that I might leave. It had been the same reason I had decided to go through with the imaging tests and try for the promotion. She’d be upset if I left.

Now, there would never be any place I could get distance from her, no rest for my mind from the anger and anxiety. I was stuck here until my contract with the army was up, and even after that, I had reserve hours to do which, given my current circumstances, would mean being shuttled to the base for twenty days just to keep my military perks.

Life was not going how I wanted it to. It seemed the fates had aligned to torture me, and the women in my life were the fucking puppet masters.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

Gypsy

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