Page 62 of Gravity

“Jesus. I’ll have to call round and see him once he’s home and settled. How’s everyone coping?”

That’s a good question.

After Nora’s tears and a good chat about it, she’s now putting on a brave face, accepting the fact that this is life now but knowing she will get through the worst with those around her. Fiona, too, is making provisions for Pete when he returns home along with taking some time off work. Asher, however, is another story altogether, and I’m slowly becoming more concerned for my friend and his troubled mind. After dropping Nora off at the hospital yesterday, (she went in to see her Dad who, at the time was sitting up in bed, looking a lot better than he had with a huge smile on his face) I caught Asher in the family room with a look in his eyes like the world was on his shoulders. Regardless of the fact he’d hardly slept, there was something about the way he looked that I haven’t been able to shake off.

In other circumstances, I’d say he looked guilty—which is bullshit as he has nothing to be guilty for—but I’ve been trying to work him out for some time now and I’m unsure I’ll ever be able to.

I lean against the bar. “Good considering. Asher is a little quiet, though. Does he seem okay to you? In general, I mean.”

“He has his moments, but it’s understandable. A lot of shit went down in Iraq,” he exhales.

“But that’s just it. What shit went down?”

“He’s not said anything?”

“He tells me fuck all these days. I only know that he lost two of his team.”

Mark holds my stare, a look of concern now in his. “We lost the whole fucking team, Gray. All three. Two from rifles the other by grenade. The guys had it tough out there, and by some miracle, Asher was the only one left standing without a fucking scratch on him.”

My breath halts. Anger, frustration, confusion, and nausea fill my stomach from his words. Why the fuck don’t I know this? Why hasn’t he told me the whole story? After all the damn fucking years we’ve been friends… I don’t get it.

“Shit,” I breathe. “Why did he not say anything?”

“Who knows with that man. He refused the help that was offered after, but Jackson is happy with him and his work hasn’t faltered in any way. And after chatting to him at the office yesterday afternoon, he’s wanting to head off again. Not that I’ve advised him to.”

I’m about to ask him what he means, but Asher walks in and heads toward us. “Afternoon, pretty girls. What gives?”

“You’re late,” Mark states in a tone that’s commanding, but Asher just laughs it off.

“Well, I’m here now. Beer, please, Gray.”

I nod, hiding the discomfort of the news I’ve just learned and get him a beer, trying to work out why Mark’s comment has made me feel even more uneasy. Last I’d heard, from Asher, was that he was due to fly out to California tomorrow for a few days.

“Right, fuckface,” Mark says smacking Asher on the shoulder. “Let’s go take a seat and talk business. I need to call Jackson in a bit with your decision.”

Decision?

“What’s this, Twilight? You doing official work outside the office now?” I joke, trying to act like I’m not seeking to work out what’s going on. “This isn’t like you.”

“It’s my day off and the only time I can get Asher here to talk.”

The guys head on over to a booth and are deep in conversation for some time, all the while Asher seeming to be a little unsettled, bouncing his knee up and down under the table. He rolls the beer bottle between his fingers, or he picks at the label. He stares out of the window, and Mark has to regain his attention.

Naturally, I’ve been putting all this down to the fact he could be worrying about his dad, but I’m not convinced now. All along, I’ve feared there is more to his behaviors and that he may have PTSD, and now, after hearing what Mark said, I’m certain it’s that.

“Their conversation seems intense.” Ryan says, joining me at the other end of the bar while I wipe it down. “Asher was practically growling at Mark when I walked past.”

“Isn’t war always intense?”

“Guess so.” He hands me a sheet of paper and I see it’s the staff schedules. “I’ve looked at these and reduced the amount of hours Nora will be in this week.”

I take a look at the paper and nod in agreement. She’d been due to work today, but I told her to be with Pete. “Thanks, man. She just needs to be with her dad.”

Ryan nods just as Mark shouts at me from the other end of the bar, looking frustrated. “Gray, I’m out. I’ll catch up with you later.”

I wave him off, noticing Asher is still sitting in the booth with his head down.

Needing to talk to him, I get Ryan to cover me and I do the one thing that will keep Asher here and hopefully get him talking: I grab us both a beer.