Herons Landing

by JoAnn Ross

  “Not yet. And before you play Dear Abby and say I ought to tell her, I’m planning to. I just wanted to make sure I could also tell her that I’d gotten my head straight and would spend the rest of my life making up for past problems I’d caused her.”

  “Well.” What did a guy say to that? Especially when it came from your own father, after you’d already told him that you didn’t want to get mixed up in his marital drama? “That’s good.” He nodded and took a bite himself. “Real good,” he said around a mouthful of doughnut.

  “You know I was in the military before I met your mother.”

  “Sure.” Though his dad had never talked about his military days, Seth had seen a photo of him on his boot camp graduation day looking ready to take on all the world’s bad guys single-handed. “You were in the Navy.”

  “Though it pissed off my dad, I didn’t want to stick around this town. So I bought into the message on those posters in the recruiting office window telling me that if I joined the Navy, I could see the world.”

  “Did you? See the world?” Another thing his dad had never mentioned.

  “Some of it. But only after having a long talk with the recruiter my junior year of high school. I’ve heard a lot of them lie, but he was up front and told me that I wouldn’t get to see much of the world from the deck of a ship or in a sub. Also, because I was captain of both the football and baseball teams, and had good grades in math and science, which probably came from years of working on houses with my dad growing up, he figured I might have a chance of making the SEALs. But having at least an associate’s degree would give me a boost up. So I went to community college nights and Saturdays while working all day for my dad on houses. Then I joined up.”

  “You were a SEAL?”

  “Yeah. Not right away—there’s a helluva lot of hoops and training to get through, and they make it as hard as they can so they can be sure you can handle the job—but I made the grade. And I got to see some of the world, though not places most people ever want to go.” He took a long gulp of coffee and looked out over the water, but Seth got the feeling his dad wasn’t looking at snow-clad Mount Baker towering in the distance, but something else. Something else in his past he’d never mentioned. “I was in Lebanon.”

  Seth skimmed through a mental history book and did the math. “In Beirut?”

  “Yeah.”

  “For the barracks bombing?” That had taken the lives of how many Marines?

  “Yeah. It was the deadliest attack on Marines since Iwo Jima, the deadliest single-day death toll for the US military since the Tet Offensive and the deadliest terrorist attack before 9/11.” Seth didn’t remember reading all that, but he figured if he’d been there for the bombing, he’d never have forgotten it.

  “Were you in the barracks?” How the hell could he have not at least heard that story?

  “No. We were five hundred yards away, up in the hills above the city on a reconnaissance mission. We came under artillery fire on the way back and by the time we got to our bunker, it was nearly five in the morning. We could have taken our mess kits and gone down and had ourselves a hot breakfast. But we were pretty wiped by then, so the effort didn’t seem worth it.

  “Some of the other guys were going to wind down from the adrenaline rush and read—Robert B. Parker had a new book out—and others got out some Playboy and Penthouse magazines. But I hit the rack...

  “I don’t know how long I slept, but suddenly the entire place shook like it had been hit with one of those bunker buster bombs. There was a lot of confusion while we were all trying to figure out what the hell had happened, but then Benson, one of my teammates who’d been out taking a piss, came running in shouting that they’d hit the barracks.

  “It was hard to believe what we were seeing. Some days it still seems more like one of those end-of-the-world movies. While we’d been safe, sleeping or looking at porn, what turned out to be a truck bomb had damn near vaporized a four-story building.

  “We went racing down the hill into this enormous cloud of ash and debris falling everywhere, and everyone who was mobile began digging out our dead and wounded from the rubble while snipers kept shooting at us. For days. A lot of guys got hit by bullets, others by cracking and spattering concrete.

  “Meanwhile, down the road, another truck took out the French barracks. Many of those killed were paratroopers standing out on balconies, trying to figure out what had happened where we were.”

  “Jesus.” Seth had seen old news videos during his American history class. But never in a million years had he imagined his dad in those scenes.

  “It was the closest thing to hell I ever hope to get,” Ben said. “It took days, and eventually the voices of guys still trapped quit calling out for help. That was the worst. But at the same time, it was so fucking overwhelming that we became frozen to it. We just kept working. All night and day.”

  “I don’t think I could’ve done that,” Seth admitted.

  “Yeah, you could’ve, but I wouldn’t have wanted you to,” his dad said. “And I’m not telling you this to make you feel worse about your own grief over losing your wife in the same damn way. I wasn’t happy about her going off to war, but hell, it wasn’t any of my business. That gal was always going to do exactly what she wanted to.”

  “You’re not going to get any argument from me about that.” As Seth said the words he realized that along with the peace that had come over him, he was no longer as angry as he had been even a few weeks ago. Not at Zoe, and not at himself. Which didn’t mean he didn’t still wish he’d been able to stop her, but like his dad said, she was a woman who knew her own mind.

  Just like Brianna. But in a different way.

  “But you got over it?”

  “You never get over a thing like that,” Ben said. “You put it away, in a box, where you don’t ever have to think about it.” He looked at Seth. Long and hard. “I imagine you know a lot about that.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “The thing is that it doesn’t work forever. The Trade Center bombings brought it all back to me. That was the first time I had to tell your mother about it. Not the entire story. Just that I’d been there.”

  “Mom hadn’t known before then?”

  “Like I said, it was in a box. We didn’t meet until I got out, so there was no point in mentioning it... I don’t know what I would’ve done without her... Yeah, I do,” he said. “I just would’ve ended it after the PTSD came back.”

  And didn’t Seth know the siren’s call of doing exactly that? Maybe that was another thing he and his dad shared in their DNA. The inability to take the easy way out.

  Ben blew out a long breath. “So I built myself another box, even stronger than the first, and made sure I stayed away from the TV during September every year. That was working. Kind of, anyway, although your mother might claim differently, because things were more strained from time to time, though we got through it. Until all this damn terrorist stuff started up again all over the news and it’s like I’m right back there in Beirut... She wants me to quit my job.”

  Seth decided against saying he knew that.

  “I promised her, when we got married, that someday we’d travel. So she’s got this idea about buying a motor home and driving across America, seeing all the national parks and stuff.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “Yeah. But it also means that we’d be stuck together in a damn metal box for twenty-four hours a day. And because I love her more than life itself, I just couldn’t dump all these ugly dark memories and feelings I’ve locked up inside me on her.”

  “Has the therapist helped with that?” Seth asked hopefully. Now that he’d heard the story, he had a lot more invested in his parents’ marriage succeeding. But not if it was going to cause them both pain.

  “Yeah. She has, which is surprising, because she’s, well, a woman. And youn
g. Just a few years older than you.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing. PTSD has been around forever, but it hasn’t been studied that much. She’d probably be more up on treatment,” Seth suggested.

  “I’m comfortable talking to her,” Ben agreed. “I didn’t think I would be.”

  Probably because he didn’t experience any male competitive feelings, Seth suspected. And there was also the fact that being a man of a certain age, he’d be more likely to accept a woman as someone who could understand emotional problems he couldn’t talk about with the guys.

  “I’m glad for you.”

  “Yeah. She’s helped a lot with what she calls coping techniques. I’ve been doing some deep breathing and visualization. But I drew the line at taking up yoga.”

  “Can’t say I blame you there.” Just the idea of his father doing a downward dog made Seth grin.

  “So.” Ben brushed his hands together to shake off the sugar. “The thing is, you’ve probably got a lot of stuff in your box, too.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ve also got yourself a good woman who’s had a thing for you all her life.”

  “Geez. Does everyone know that?”

  “Everyone but you, it seems. You were too young to be looking in that direction early on. Then once you met Zoe Robinson, you were blind to seeing any other girls. The past few weeks I’ve realized that a lot of guys are probably okay with living alone. But you and me, we’re not them. I’m going to do my damnedest to get my wife back from Mike Mannion.”

  “She’s not with Mike.”

  “Not yet, maybe. But if I lose her, he’d be the obvious choice to be her rebound guy. I’ll take care of my relationship. I’ve been working on it bit by bit and it’s getting easier. We’re going out on a date tomorrow. To this wine bar bistro place in Port Townsend so she can eat her veggies, but it also serves steak, so I figured that’d be a good compromise.”

  “It is. And a good start.”

  “That’s what my therapist says. She also taught me some conversational tricks that don’t risk us getting into any argument over me quitting work or any future plans. We’re supposed to just experience living in the moment together, she says.” Deep color flushed up his neck. “She got me to do this conversational dinner-talking role-playing thing.”

  Despite the seriousness of the discussion, Seth struggled not to laugh at this news flash. “And how did that turn out?”

  “Pretty damn well. She had your mother down pat. Meaning I guess she listened to everything I’d said about Caroline.”

  “I think that’s what they’re supposed to do. Listen.”

  “Yeah. It was a lot like when Tony’d talk with Dr. Melfi on The Sopranos. So, hopefully we’ll make it through dinner okay.”

  “My money’s on you.”

  “Yeah. Like we used to say in the SEALs, the only easy day was yesterday and failure’s not an option. Which you need to keep in mind and not let that Mannion girl get away,” Ben warned. “She’s a keeper, and if you lose her, you’ll end up spending the rest of your life regretting screwing up a relationship you both deserve.”

  As weird as it was getting romantic advice from a man who’d probably, even a month ago, choked over the word relationship, Seth only wished things between him and Brianna were that simple.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  SETH FOUND BRIANNA in the kitchen as she was most Sunday mornings—unfortunately not naked beneath a blue-and-white-gingham apron with a ruffle around the bottom—but slicing white button mushrooms with a lethal-looking knife at a speed that would put his nail gun to shame.

  “I hope you’re up for another hash breakfast,” she greeted him with a smile that soothed the still ragged edges from his conversation with his dad. At the same time, the way she’d put her hair up into that messy high bun revealed a long smooth neck he wanted to lick. And that was just for starters.

  “Sounds good.” Lifting her up on that counter and burying himself deep inside her sounded even better.

  “It’s a Pacific Northwest take on corned beef hash, with Dungeness crab in place of the corned beef. I picked the crab up fresh at Kira’s Fish House this morning.”

  One of the aspects of her business she was highlighting on her website and brochures was how all the food served at Herons Landing was both locally inspired and locally sourced. In these days of more and more foodies finding their way to the peninsula, he figured that would prove a strong draw.

  When she turned and bent over to get a box of eggs from the oversize fridge, a jolt of lust had him groaning, which caused her to glance back over her shoulder.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” From the concern in her blue eyes as they swept over him, he guessed she might be wondering why he’d been so late arriving this morning. “On my way here, Dad was coming out of Cops and Coffee. He waved me down and wanted to talk.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Mostly, I guess. You know he’s been taking time off the job.”

  “Because he’s cutting back to part-time, right, now that this place is coming along so well?” She began dicing the red potatoes for the hash. “I also figured he’s probably finishing up the last of those plaster molds at his workshop.”

  “Both those are true.” Seth weighed breaking a confidence, but it wasn’t like his dad had instructed him to keep it under his hat. And Bri wasn’t just anyone. She was the woman he was having sex with.

  No. It was more than that. His dad was right about one thing. They were in a relationship. Where they were going, he still wasn’t sure, but they’d shared the most intimate parts of themselves. He knew, if their situations were reversed, not that he could ever see John and Sarah Mannion having marriage problems, she’d share with him.

  “But another reason is that he’s been seeing a therapist in Seattle.”

  “Seriously?” It was a good thing she’d already put the eggs down on the counter, because as she spun back toward him, she probably would’ve dropped them.

  “Really. Apparently he’s been seeing her twice a week.”

  “Wow. I never in a million years would have imagined that.”

  “Join the club.”

  “He must truly love your mom to do something that must be incredibly difficult for him... Did you say her?”

  “Yeah. It’s a woman. A young woman, but he assures me she’s got a lot of fancy degrees and licenses, and she seems to be getting through to him.”

  “Oh, Seth! That’s so wonderful.” Her face lit up like the morning sun. Those lips he’d been thinking about tasting since he came back from the pier curved in a dazzling smile that brightened her eyes, like the diamond lights that danced on the surface of Mirror Lake on a summer day.

  “He’s taking Mom on a date.”

  “Oh.” She sighed. He thought he saw the glisten of a tear in one eye. “That’s so sweet. Here in town?”

  “No. Port Townsend. He figured they’d have more privacy that way.”

  “Good idea.” Brianna nodded her approval. “The therapist must really have him working hard on this.”

  “Seems so.” He decided she didn’t need to know about the role playing. Seth sure as hell wouldn’t want anyone knowing he was doing anything like that. “He’s also working on some military stuff that he hasn’t been able to shake.”

  “I’d forgotten he was in the military. That was before you were born, right?”

  “Yeah. Get this... He was a SEAL.”

  She’d turned her knife skills to chopping some herbs. “I can see that.”

  “You can?”

  “Absolutely,” she confirmed. “If they’re anything like in the movies I’ve seen or the romances I’ve read, they tend to be strong, silent types. And he’d never ring out.” Which was a candidate’s way of signaling that all the pain, misery, cold
ness and fatigue the training class was put through had become too much.

  “You watched that documentary on BUD/S training?”

  “I streamed it on Netflix. The books got me curious. He’s one amazing man, your father.”

  “Don’t tell him I told you this—”

  “Cross my heart.” Which she did with her fingers.

  “He was a hero. During the Beirut barracks bombing.”

  “Oh. My. God.” She took hold of the counter as if to steady herself, obviously stunned and envisioning the same videos that had flashed through his mind. He’d been too young to remember the stories growing up, but every few years, on the anniversary, one of the cable news programs or PBS would run a segment. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for him. So, that was before he met your mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know I’m repeating myself, but wow. That explains a lot. He’d have to have lingering PTSD. And all the other terrorist things that have happened since then must have triggered old feelings.”

  “Ever think of becoming a therapist?” he asked.

  Her smile lacked its usual brightness. It was a little sad, and her expressive eyes revealed how deep her sympathy went. “I told you, my job was about more than getting show tickets or restaurant reservations. People were either celebrating something important that I needed to ensure became a memory, or they were stressed out and needed calming, or they had personal problems they thought maybe they could escape by coming to a city that’s a twenty-four-hour, seven-days-a-week carnival. Which, of course, didn’t work. So there were times I had to deal with the aftermath of self-medication.”

  Her smile softened. “Then there were others who still had personal reasons for coming.” She told him about the elderly lady who carried her husband’s ashes back every year. Not having visited his wife’s grave once, Seth felt guilty about that one. But then again, the Zoe he’d married was no more in the ground than the widow’s husband had been in that urn.

  “Well.” She blew out a ragged breath. “This conversation has certainly turned depressing.”