First Class Hero (First Class Novels)

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First Class Hero (First Class Novels) Page 11

by Harmon, AJ

The food began arriving and Nic liked it all, well except for Baba Ghannouj. She discovered she wasn’t a real fan of eggplant.

  On the taxi ride home, Paul was pleased with her adventurism.

  “Well out of everything you tried tonight, not liking one dish is pretty damn good, if you ask me,” Paul grinned.

  “I called Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins,” Nic blurted.

  “You did? When?”

  “This afternoon. I didn’t tell them who I was, just that I had some questions about their son.”

  “And?”

  “They invited me to their house.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “Will you come with me?” she pleaded.

  “Of course I will. When?”

  “Sunday.”

  The taxi pulled up in front of Nic’s apartment and Paul paid the driver and escorted Nic to her door.

  “Are you coming in?” she asked.

  “No,” he shook his head. “This is only our third date.”

  “Oh,” she blushed.

  Paul took her face gently in his hands and touched his lips to hers. She responded immediately and he kissed her again and pulled away.

  “Will there be a fourth date?” he whispered.

  Nic nodded.

  “On Monday?”

  She nodded again. “Yes. I’d like that.”

  “What time do I pick you up on Sunday?”

  “They said Sunday afternoon, so…”

  “One o’clock?”

  Nic nodded. Paul kissed her again, a lingering kiss and then turned for the stairs and disappeared.

  18.

  Sunday arrived and Nic wasn’t sure if she was happy or nervous. She decided she was a bit of both. She was happy to see Paul again, and nervous about her trip to Connecticut to meet the Wilkins. She kept herself busy in the morning with some preparations for her class for the upcoming week.

  A little after twelve she was ready to leave and just waiting for Paul. While the clock ticked by slowly, she imagined all kind of scenarios of her meeting her grandparents. She wondered if they knew about her. Wouldn’t they have looked for her if they knew she existed? Maybe they were hippies who had fried their brains in the sixties and wouldn’t know a VW bus from a greyhound bus anymore. Or maybe they were completely ignorant to her existence. There was no use thinking about it anymore. She would just have to wait and see.

  Paul arrived a few minutes before one and she ran down to meet him as he was double parked. Nic stepped onto the curb to see Paul standing next to a brand new red Audi A8.

  “Really? This is your car?” she choked.

  “No!” he laughed. “This is my brother’s car.”

  “The one who owns half of Manhattan?”

  “No,” Paul grinned. “That’s Matt, or Mark. They both own half of Manhattan. This is Andrew’s car.”

  “And what does he own?” she asked as he held open the door for her to slide into pure luxury.

  “He’s a Wall Street tycoon,” Paul smirked.

  Nic looked around the inside of the car. The back seat had a car seat and lots of toys and some crumbs strewn across the leather.

  “That would be from Isabelle, my niece,” he chuckled.

  “So Andrew is rich but not snooty, cuz he has baby food all over his $90,000 car!”

  “You got it!” Paul grinned.

  *****

  The drive to West Haven took well over two hours. It was enough time for Nic to really work up a good case of anxiety.

  “Relax!” Paul said. “I’m here with you. It’s gonna be fine.”

  “This is the most nerve-racking thing I have ever done. It even beats driving the U-Haul!”

  Paul grinned. “Almost there.”

  The car’s GPS was instructing them through the neighborhood until they pulled into a driveway of a well-kept home. It was ranch-style with a two car garage and beautifully manicured lawn. There were flowering bushes in the flower beds and the front door was a maroon color.

  As Paul walked around the car to open her door, Nic took a deep breath and tried to prepare herself emotionally for what was to come. Paul kept his hand on the small of her back as they walked to the front door. Nic took another deep breath and knocked.

  It only took a couple of seconds for the front door to swing open and there stood a man, Nic guessed in his seventies, dressed in a dark blue suit, white shirt and tie.

  “You must be Nic,” he smiled.

  “Yes. Hello Mr. Wilkins. This is my good friend Paul Lathem.”

  “Hello Mr. Wilkins,” Paul said and offered his hand.

  Mr. Wilkins took it and smiled. “Come in, please.”

  Nic stepped inside, with Paul right behind her, into the immaculately kept house. Mr. Wilkins ushered them through the archway of the small foyer into an inviting living room. As Paul and Nic sat on the sofa, she noticed the furniture was old, but clean and very comfortable. They did not appear to be of substantial means, but obviously took great care of what they did have.

  Mrs. Wilkins appeared through the dining room, and both Paul and Nic stood and shook her hand as they introduced themselves. She seemed to be staring at Nic, like there was something wrong. And she didn’t let go of Nic’s hand.

  “I…you…oh my,” she said.

  The hairs on the back of Nic’s neck stood straight up and there seemed to be some kind of recognition in Mrs. Wilkins’ face. Nic pulled her hand away and looked at Paul, unable to speak.

  “Irene, come and sit here,” Mr. Wilkins said as he pulled his wife away from Nic.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins,” Paul began. “We certainly do not mean to intrude, but…”

  Nic placed her hand on Paul’s arm, stopping him from continuing as she looked to her right. Over the brick fireplace was a photo of a man dressed in a Sailor’s uniform. She was transfixed on his face and stood slowly and walked towards it. His eyes, his nose, the shape of his face was completely familiar to her.

  “That’s Greg, our son,” Mr. Wilkins explained.

  “She knows,” whispered Irene as she stood and walked to stand beside Nic. “You knew him?”

  Nic shook her head, a tear escaped and she quickly brushed it away with the back of her hand.

  “Then, I don’t think I understand,” Mr. Wilkins said, obviously confused.

  “I think I do,” Irene whispered. She turned to Nic and took her hand. “Tell me why you’re here, dear.”

  Nic turned to woman who was her grandmother. “I…I don’t know where to begin.”

  “At the beginning then,” Irene smiled.

  Both women returned to their seats and Paul took Nic’s hand in his. She smiled at him and took a deep breath.

  “I was born in Norfolk, Virginia, on August 21st, 1983,” she began.

  Paul’s head whipped around to face her. “I missed your birthday?” he whispered.

  Nic smiled at him and turned back to the Wilkins’. “I never knew my father. My mother, Heather, said he just disappeared, and…”

  “Heather?” Mrs. Wilkins exclaimed. “Your mother is named Heather?”

  Nic nodded as Irene began to cry. “I knew it,” she choked. “You are Greg’s daughter! I knew it the moment I saw you!”

  “But…how?” Nic was baffled at Mrs. Wilkins’ sudden realization.

  “Go and get the box, Larry, please?” Irene asked her husband.

  Larry stood and left the room. Irene turned back to Nic and Paul. “We didn’t know Heather was pregnant. We had no idea,” she cried.

  Nic rushed to her grandmother and knelt in front of her taking her hand. “I didn’t even know his name until a few weeks ago. My mother never knew what happened; just that he left her without a word. It’s okay,” she soothed Irene.

  Larry returned with a shoebox and handed it to his wife. She opened it and pulled out a notebook.

  “These were his personal effects from his bunk on the ship. And this is his journal. Here,” she said as she handed it to Nic.

  Nic to
ok it in her hands, caressing the small diary, for the first time feeling some sort of connection with the father she would never meet. She looked up at Paul who smiled at her and it gave her the strength to open the cover. She flipped to November, 1982:

  November 1

  Phil, Jeff and I went to get dinner off base tonight. And I met the girl of my dreams. She was our waitress and when she smiled at me I knew. I saw her nametag – her name is Heather. I’m going back tomorrow!

  November 2

  She wasn’t working tonight. But I’m going to keep coming back till I can see her again.

  November 3

  Jeff thinks I’m an idiot. He says I could screw any girl I wanted so I shouldn’t be trying to get a girlfriend. I don’t care. I’m going back tonight.

  She was there! And she talked to me. I asked her on a date on Friday and she said yes. She’s beautiful. And nice. I think we’ll go see a movie.

  November 4

  Had a slight mishap at work today. Phil got burned on some steam. His arm is pretty messed up but he’ll be fine.

  Tomorrow night is the date with Heather. I’m going to borrow Jeff’s car. It’s gonna be great!

  November 5

  Just took Heather home. We went to see the man from snowy river. Heather liked it. I couldn’t understand most of it. It was from another country. And then we went and got root beer floats at A & W and we talked for a long time. We both love Foreigner and Hall & Oates. I think if we can agree on music the rest is easy. She works the lunch shift tomorrow so I think I’m going to take her to the dance at the Rec Center. She likes to dance.

  November 12

  Jeff still thinks I’m an idiot. I’m not going to talk to him anymore about Heather. I really like her a lot. And she seems to like me too. She invited me over tomorrow to her apartment. We’re going to have a picnic.

  I talked to my mom today. She said Aunt Lillian died. I’m not really sad because she’s had cancer for a long time. Mom didn’t seem sad either. I guess it would be weird to have your sister die though. I don’t have to worry about that seeing as though there’s just me.

  November 14

  Yesterday was a great day. It was kind of cold but we had a picnic in the park. We had spam sandwiches and cokes. Then we sat on the swings and talked for a while. I don’t think fathers should hit their children. I would never hit my kids. My dad didn’t hit me or my mom. Heather says I’m lucky. She gets sad when she talks about her mom but she hates her dad and says she’s never going back home. She’s not going to have to. I think I want to marry her.

  November 16

  Heather has to work nights this week, except for Thursday so I am going to see her then. Jeff is still being an asshole and says he won’t let me borrow his car if I’m wasting my time on just one girl. He says I should have sex with as many girls as I can before we leave for deployment next year. I don’t want to. I just want her.

  November 20

  I told Heather last night that we have to go on a training exercise next week. We’ll be gone for a week. She was pretty sad. But when we get back I’m going to ask her to come to Connecticut with me for Christmas. I don’t think mom will mind. I hope she says yes.

  November 29

  She cried when I left her apartment last night. But I’m only going for a week. And then we’ll be together. It’s so cramped here on the ship. The barracks have way more room. Only six more days.

  Nic closed the small spiral-bound notebook and wiped her eyes. She looked up at her grandmother who took her hand. They smiled at each other, a sad smile of loss and anguish, but also with hope.

  “There’s also a letter in there,” Irene nodded to the shoebox. “Larry can you find it?”

  He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Nic. Again, she looked back at Paul, seeking the emotional support she desperately needed. He slid from the sofa and sat behind her, his hand resting on her hip.

  Nic carefully unfolded the thirty year-old piece of paper and read the few sentences before her.

  Dear Heather,

  They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and it’s true. I can’t stop thinking about you. I know we’ve only known each other for a short time but I know in my heart that I love you and I know I could make you happy. You won’t ever have to worry about being beaten again, or having to eat Ramen noodles every night. I want to take care of you. I love you.

  I have to start my shift now, but I’ll be back.

  A small sob escaped as she folded the paper. Paul enveloped her in his strong arms and she leaned into him and cried. His heart broke for her but once again all he could do was hold her until the tears stopped.

  “He didn’t know,” she whispered once she was able to speak.

  Larry had produced a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Nic. She graciously accepted it and wiped her eyes and her nose.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

  Larry shook his head, “Not necessary,” he smiled.

  Irene stood and stepped past Nic and Paul still huddled on the floor. “I’ll make some coffee.”

  Paul helped Nic up and they followed Larry through to the small table in the kitchen. Irene produced a tray of small truffles and assorted cookies and Larry put cream and sugar on the table. Nic took a cup of fresh-brewed coffee from Irene, followed by Paul and Larry, then the four of them sat silently while they each ate a cookie and sipped the Columbian roast.

  Larry was the first to speak as he reached out and patted Nic’s hand. “I’m very glad you looked for us.”

  Nic managed a small smile. “Me too, Mr. Wilkins,” she said.

  “Please call me Larry,” he pleaded.

  Nic nodded and smiled. “Or Grandpa?”

  Larry’s chin trembled ever so slightly. “Or Grandpa,” he managed to say.

  “How did he die?” Nic asked.

  Larry looked at Irene and she nodded.

  “It’s been difficult for us to talk about him over the years,” he began. “He was our only child. And we had hoped so much for him. When he was sixteen, he had saved his money and had purchased a 1964 Mustang. The body was in great shape but the engine needed to be totally rebuilt. He’d helped me work on cars his whole life. He could practically change the oil in my Buick blindfolded,” Larry chuckled.

  “He was a very smart boy,” Irene added. “But he hated school. Sitting in a classroom all day made him crazy so his grades weren’t that great and he was adamant that he wasn’t going to waste four more years of his life in college.”

  “He had that Mustang purring like a kitten in about six months,” Larry continued. “He was so good with his hands. He could fix anything! The neighbors would bring him broken radios, and mixers, every kind of small appliance and he could rip them apart and fix it. He was amazing to watch.”

  “He wanted to be a mechanic,” Irene said. “And after the Navy recruiter visited the high school, he decided that would be a great way to really learn a skill and see the world. I remember him saying he could have everything he wanted.”

  “I have to admit that we weren’t really thrilled about the idea,” Larry confessed.

  “My parents weren’t either,” Paul chuckled.

  “You’re in the Navy?” Larry asked.

  “I just retired.”

  “You aren’t old enough to retire,” Irene chuckled.

  “I was a Seal for eleven years.”

  “Oh,” Larry gasped. “Well I can see why you’re parents weren’t over the moon about that choice. But we gave in, not that Greg needed our permission. He turned eighteen and enlisted. He went off to boot camp for twelve weeks and when we saw him at graduation he was no longer a boy. He was a man and we were extremely proud of him. And then twenty months later there was a knock at the front door and our lives changed forever. Paul, help me out here. The officer who came to see us?”

  “CACO?” Paul replied. “The Casualty Assistance Calls Officer?”

  “Yes, yes. I kn
ew there was some long name I couldn’t remember. Well he came with another man. He was from the USS Bivans, and he came and said he regretted to inform us that our son had died while at sea during a training exercise.”

  Larry paused, obviously reliving the saddest day of his life. Irene reached for his hand and they gripped other tightly.

  “There was a fire,” Irene said after realizing her husband couldn’t continue. “There was a major fuel oil leak in one of the main engine rooms and it caught fire. Apparently one of Greg’s jobs as a Damage Controlman was to assist in putting out the fire.”

  Paul could see that now Irene was struggling to continue. “He saved two lives that day.”

  Nic swung her head to look at Paul.

  “You know?” she whispered.

  Paul nodded and took her hand in his and laced his fingers with hers.

  “You’ve seen his file?” Larry asked.

  “I have, yes,” Paul nodded. “One of the men he saved was badly burned and DCFN Wilkins managed to drag him to safety and request additional support. The other man he rescued had been overcome by the smoke. And after they were both out of harm’s way, he went back in to do his job. But there was an explosion and…and he didn’t make it out.”

  “So my dad was a hero?”

  “Yes,” Paul nodded and smiled at the woman he loved. “Your dad was a hero.”

  *****

  On the drive back to Manhattan, Nic held Paul’s hand and stared off out the window. Paul knew she had a lot to process and left her to her thoughts.

  Larry and Irene Wilkins had asked Nic to come back the following weekend. She had eagerly accepted the invitation. Paul had offered to drive her to which she happily agreed.

  “Come with me to the Lathem family barbecue tomorrow,” Paul asked as they drove down the Henry Hudson Parkway.

  “I thought we were going on a date tomorrow,” she grinned.

  “I want you to meet my family…and I want them to meet you.”

  Nic looked into his eyes. “Thank you for taking me today. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

  “Yes you could,” Paul told her. “You are incredibly strong, Nic. I am in awe of you and what you did today. So meet my family,” he grinned. “And I’ll be right beside you for that too.”

 

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