The Soldier's Final Mission

by Laura M. Baird

  “Mommy! Look what I found!”

  Becca looked at Riley running toward her, an iridescent bubble wiggling in his hand. Before she could say a word, Riley’s innocent excitement turned to sheer terror. He stood frozen in the sand as his screams rang out, drawing looks from everyone in the area.

  Luckily, there were prepared lifeguards on duty which was why Becca had chosen this beach.

  Becca ran to her son who was trying to free himself of the gooey blob. She reached him at the same time as a female lifeguard who said her name was Tanya.

  Becca tried to calm Riley as Tanya went to work freeing the jellyfish from his appendage. Welts were rising on his forearm and many were turning into blisters. Tanya removed a plastic bag of white powder from her bag and began dusting it over Riley’s affected areas. “Baking soda,” she said. “It’ll neutralize the stinging.” She reached inside the bag again and brought out a bottle. “It’s Benadryl. See if you can get him to swallow some drops.”

  Becca did her best to continue soothing her son and used the dropper to squirt the liquid in his mouth. She was relieved when he managed to choke down more than he spewed out.

  “It’s all right, big guy, this syrup will help. Look, Tanya’s making the owies better with that magic powder.” Riley’s screams lowered to air-gulping sobs, and Becca was grateful to Tanya for her response and kindness. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Absolutely,” Tanya replied. “This is only a quick fix. You’ll no doubt want to get him to a hospital for an exam, possibly more treatment.”

  When that realization hit, Becca’s mind immediately went to work trying to figure which would be closest, which would be best. She certainly didn’t want to take him to his father. Patrick couldn’t handle Riley’s hysterics. And he was only four, for God’s sake!

  “UCSD Medical Center, Hillcrest,” Tanya said. “It’s a straight shot out Highway 8.”

  “Thank you. Again.” She gathered Riley in her arms and quickly threw their belongings in her bag. She hurried to her car, and after getting her son strapped in his seat, she got behind the wheel and shot out of the parking area.

  Within minutes Becca was rushing into the Emergency Department with her crying son cradled in her arms.

  “He was stung by a jellyfish.” Becca began to calmly explain to the approaching nurse, keeping her terror locked down so as not to further upset her son.

  An hour later, Becca walked toward the exit with Riley sleeping in her arms. All the activity and anguish had exhausted him. Thankfully the staff had been wonderful and treated him well. They sent her home with liquid Benadryl and extra-strength hydrocortisone cream after cleaning his hand and arms more thoroughly. She was told that he may have a few faint scars from some of the stings, but they’d probably fade with his growth.

  Not once did Riley ask for his father, and not until now did she even think to call him. It was the middle of the afternoon and he’d no doubt be busy. She’d call him tonight and let him know what had happened. There wasn’t anything he could’ve done anyway, other than probably upset Riley more.

  She hated thinking like that, but sometimes the truth hurt.

  Just as the doors swooshed open, another party was walking toward the entrance. Becca noticed two men in Army fatigues drawing closer, both wearing sunglasses to shield their eyes. While one walked tall and confident, the other had a slight limp, but no less confident. She gave them a smile as she passed, used to seeing many soldiers in the San Diego area. Not another thought was given to the men as she became preoccupied with getting Riley home and comfortable.

  Becca had taken only a few more steps when she heard her named called out. Puzzled, she turned, and her gaze met with hazel eyes. To say she was shocked would have been an understatement.

  “Bob?” she barely managed. She watched as he approached, the limp doing nothing to deter him. She watched as his eyes softened and he smiled that roguish smile she thought she’d never see again. As he stopped only a foot away, Becca tipped her face up to look at him, her ponytail brushing the nape of her neck. He was still handsomely rugged, but definitely changed.

  Bob’s eyes lacked their usual shine and a keen fierceness she remembered from years ago. They appeared weary and tired as more lines creased his tanned skin at the corners. A lean face held what had once been soft yet skillful lips—lips that now looked as if the smile was forced instead of genuine. Becca’s heart went out to him, wondering what he must have seen during his tours, and dearly wishing she could see the man she fell in love with so many years ago.

  “What are you doin’ here?” she asked lamely.

  “Seeing a friend.” He indicated to the other man who hung back behind him. “Tessa told me you were out in this area. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Well, tired, actually,” she said looking down at Riley as he shifted in her arms.

  “This must be your son.”

  Her head whipped up in surprise, wondering how he knew of Riley. Tessa, of course, she immediately thought. “Yes.” She smiled down on her waking boy. “This is Riley. Unfortunately, a fun day at the beach nearly turned into a nightmare. He was stung by a jellyfish.”

  Riley spoke sleepily, holding out his bandaged arm. “I got owies. The lady put magic powder on ‘em to make the hurt stop.”

  Bob grinned and gently stroked Riley’s fingers that were stretched toward him. “Did she now? And did it work?”

  “It worked good. Then Mommy squirted yucky stuff in my mouth.” Riley’s mouth and nose wrinkled as if still tasting the “yucky” medicine.

  Bob chuckled, and Becca’s stomach fluttered at the sound. She watched Bob interacting with Riley, so tender and concerned.

  “Maybe your mom has better stuff for you. My mom always gave me ice cream when I got owies,” Bob said.

  “I love ice cweam!” Riley exclaimed.

  “Me too. Vanilla’s my favorite. What’s yours?”

  “Stwawbewwy,” Riley said.

  “Strrrawberry,” Becca corrected.

  “Strrrbewwy,” Riley tried to sound out.

  “Close enough,” Becca conceded. She looked back to Bob, still not believing he was in front of her. “How long are you here?”

  “Not sure, just got in yesterday.” As he looked at her, she saw him hesitate. Finally he asked if she’d like to get together sometime.

  “Yes,” she said right away without a second thought. No way was she going to let another opportunity with him pass her by. “Do you still run? We could—” She stopped when she realized he had the limp. She looked down at his legs then back to his face, feeling awful. “I’m so sorry, I—”

  “It’s okay, really. Had an incident on a mission. Not running much these days. But I’d love to meet for breakfast if that’s okay.”

  “That’d be great. Can you come over to my place in the mornin’? Or is that too soon?”

  “That’d be fine.” He pulled out his phone, no doubt scrolling to his contact page. “How ‘bout you give me your number and address, and I’ll find you.”

  As she rattled off the information, Riley reached out again, touching Bob’s hand that held the phone. “You got owies, too,” he said, stroking a puckered scar that started on the back of Bob’s hand and ran up his forearm.

  Only then did Becca notice the scar, trying not to be shocked. How could she have missed that? Because she’d been too focused on staring at his gorgeous face and reminiscing about the past, that’s why.

  She started to reach out, but then stopped herself. “Oh, Bob,” she couldn’t help herself from saying. She watched Bob’s eyes harden for a second before clouding over, trying to brush it off with a shrug.

  “Comes with the territory.” He dropped the phone back in his pocket before ruffling Riley’s hair gently. “But hey, big guy, I got magic powder to heal me, too.”

  “You did?” Riley asked with awe.

  “Yep. I’m all better.” Bob looked at Becca, smiling. Only the smile still didn’t reflect in his ey
es. “I better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “Yes,” she managed. “How does nine sound?”

  “Sounds perfect. See ya, Riley.”

  “Bye.”

  Becca watched Bob turn and make his way inside the center. She stood for another moment before Riley started to fidget, making her turn to head toward the car. “Okay, buddy, how about we hit the store real quick for some groceries?”

  “And ice cweam!”

  “And ice cream.” She smiled down at her son, kissing his forehead.

  “Was that man a fwend, Mommy?”

  “Yes. A friend from a long time ago.”

  “He’s a soldier.”

  “Yes, he is. He’s a brave man.” She didn’t question why that suddenly came out, just knew it had to be the truth.

  “He fights bad guys, huh?”

  “I’m sure he has,” she said, more to herself than to her son.

  She got Riley and herself settled in the car. After a quick trip through Albertson’s, they were on their way home. Becca lived east of the San Diego Zoo, just past the freeway, in Azalea Park. Since the divorce, she and Riley moved to a nice development close to a good school for him. Patrick maintained his residence at Coronado Shores, close to the hospital.

  The rest of the afternoon and evening consisted of Becca cleaning and cooking while Riley had napped and silently played in his room. Once they had each showered and had dinner, she redressed Riley’s arm after smearing it with cream. Becca then settled him into bed where they began their nightly ritual of her reading to him before he fell asleep.

  Thoughts of Bob suddenly came to mind. After all these years, here he was. What had his life been like? How did he get those scars? And the limp? Was he still enlisted? “Obviously, if he was wearin’ the uniform,” she said to herself. Made her want to call Tessa, but with the time difference, she didn’t want to bother her friend this late. And given that it’d been some time since the two had even contacted one another, she wasn’t even sure how her call would be received.

  “Oh, crap! I didn’t even call Patrick. Guess one more day won’t hurt.”

  Becca cleared her thoughts of her ex and started some relaxing yoga poses. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Bob out of her head. And why would she want to? He had been the object of her affection—even if it had been one-sided—for many years. Logically, she had understood Bob telling her she shouldn’t wait, that she should make a life for herself because he just couldn’t offer her one. And sure, she’d been devastated, but she’d also been hardheaded in thinking there may have still been a chance.

  When it was clearly evident that the chance would never be, she took off to make a life for herself in California. But she still couldn’t remove the man from her heart. When there’d been no contact between her and Bob and no hints from Tessa as to whether he even mentioned her, she figured she might as well get on with her life.

  Meeting Patrick had been a good distraction at first. They had been introduced by mutual friends at a fundraiser she happened to attend. He’d been charming, smart, and fun. Marriage seemed like the next step in her life, Patrick’s as well. But then the fun only went so far. His life revolved around work. When she found out she was pregnant with Riley, she thought that would change things for the better. Wrong again. People who say they stayed together for the sake of the children had it all wrong. Their kids would love them more knowing they lived truthfully.

  Could Bob showing up mean a second chance?

  She laughed and snorted. As if, she thought. He’s just being friendly for old time’s sake. Just enjoy breakfast and see what happens.

  Once again she tried clearing her mind as she went through her nightly routine.

  ****

  Bob sat in the darkened room at the Days Inn. His friend, Leroy, had offered him a room at his home, but Bob declined, not wanting to burden him and his family.

  “Hell, man, you’re no burden and you know that. You’re always welcome in our home.”

  “And I appreciate it, but I need some space right now.”

  “You better call if you need anything.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  After saying good night to Leroy earlier, Bob retreated to his room. Since the mission six months earlier that left him scarred and limping, he spent too much time alone. At least according to his therapist. Goddamned head-tinkers. Yeah, he knew the therapy was helping, and it wasn’t a show of weakness to talk to a counselor about his problems. He just never thought he’d be one of the guys that would need the help.

  Bob was lucky enough that the services were being offered instead of being brushed aside and forgotten, as too often happened in the past. The Armed Forces were realizing that the soldiers killed in the field weren’t the only casualties. The ones that came home and had to resume a so-called normal life after the shit they went through, they were casualties, too. And their families.

  They had to live with the trauma, the scars—whether they were physical, mental, or emotional—they were still there.

  Bob thought of his team and that fateful mission. Raul and Garrett killed. Mack, who ended up losing both his legs, took an honorable discharge. He went home to Boston to run his dad’s business. Jake’s shoulder healed well enough, but he still couldn’t meet the physical needs for any further missions. He went on to become a weapons instructor. And Scotty, some thought the luckiest of them all, suffered only minor abrasions on his body. But his mind, well, he wasn’t having quite the positive attitude toward the counselors that Bob was. Bob made a point to check in with Scotty weekly to ensure he was on track with his therapy and his healing.

  Thoughts of Becca came to mind. Seeing her earlier hadn’t been a shock really. After all, he had planned to seek her out. He just didn’t expect to see her exiting the hospital with her adorable son in her arms. He thought it to be her, and when he looked back and saw the tattoo on her lovely exposed neck, he had to react.

  She was one of the main reasons he was in San Diego. That, and a job possibility as a civilian tech consultant. Yeah, Bob was a techy, and a brilliant one at that. He was entertaining the idea of his separation from the Army, and like Becca’s thoughts years ago, maybe a change of scenery was in order. He’d always have a connection with his brothers-in-arms, only it would no longer be in the field.

  Bob thought of his daughter, Mackenzie, back in North Carolina. He’d become a big part of her life in the last few months. He’d had to because of her mom dying of a drug overdose after Bob returned from the last mission. She’d had hopes of a reunion with him, but after learning of his injuries and thinking he wasn’t going to come out of the coma he was in, she couldn’t face her responsibilities. She fought a downhill battle for years, and that had pushed her over the edge. Mackenzie had been staying with her grandma more than her own mom.

  Bob made sure that would change. The grandma knew of her daughter’s struggles, and the only help she was able to offer had been to take care of Mackenzie. But she was elderly with concerns of her own, and as much as she loved her granddaughter, she was glad Bob was there to take her.

  Bob had considered bringing her on this trip but didn’t want to get her hopes up if it didn’t pan out. He talked to her about the possibility of relocating to California, and she was beyond excited. He thought she’d be scared or wary, not wanting to leave her grandma or her friends, but the idea of living by the beach where it didn’t snow sounded much more appealing.

  One hurdle cleared.

  But what if Becca wanted nothing to do with him? Could he even consider relocating, knowing she was here but unobtainable?

  Her quick acceptance of breakfast was encouraging. She’d have shot him down if she didn’t want anything to do with him, right?

  Bob was driving himself crazy with all these thoughts. He was hoping there were still lingering feelings on her part after all these years. Sure, it sounded like a long shot, but he had to try. He had to see if he could make amends for his fuck-up al
l those years ago, no matter how unlikely it may seem.

  He made the decision to not wait until morning. It was eight in the evening. Bob had to see Becca now.

  ****

  Becca finished her yoga and was heating a mug of water for tea when she heard a knock on her door. Looking at the clock, she wondered who would be here at nearly eight-thirty in the evening.

  Hopefully not Patrick. She couldn’t see why he’d stop by. And she couldn’t handle anything from him right now.

  She walked to the door and looked through the peephole, jerking back with shock after seeing Bob on the other side. She looked at herself in the small mirror above the sideboard and sighed. Well, what should he expect after the day she’d had? This was her, take it or leave it.

  Becca unlocked the door and opened it, her heart immediately going out to the man standing before her, looking so lost.

  “Bob, come in.” She stepped aside, allowing him to pass. She closed and locked the door, turning to him as he filled her entryway.

  “I’m sorry to just show up like this, but…”—he hesitated a moment before continuing— “but I had to see you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not if you don’t mind me in the state I’m in. I just finished my yoga and was gettin’ some tea. Would you like anything?” She nervously moved past him through the living room, sensing that he followed.

  “You look great.”

  She laughed, continuing on toward the kitchen. “Ha, thanks.”

  “You do, Becca. You look really great.”

  The sincerity in his voice had her stopping to turn and stare at him. If it were possible, it seemed there were even more lines etched on his face and a shadow surrounding him. Becca instantly wanted to chase away that darkness and see his brightness return. She thought she should approach whatever this was with caution, but that just wasn’t her style. Not after all the thoughts that’d been running through her mind.

  “Bob, why are you here?”

  “Here at your house, or here in San Diego?”

  “Yes. Both, I guess.”

  “I’m here for a possible job.” He took a step in her direction. “That is, if things work out with us.”