He knew Wolf. This was going to be a race measured not in a lap but in how many laps. The shallow end of the pool would be a big problem. He couldn’t kick and keep momentum going through those last five feet, and trying to do so would just cost extra energy. Holding his breath was all about controlling how much energy was needed that would take oxygen. Distance was the bottom line for this race, not speed covering that distance. He’d go with his strength—that push off from the walls. Bruce nodded to himself, deciding that strategy would serve him best.
Wolf was stretching, stationing himself at the edge of the deep end, preparing to dive in. Bruce dropped into the water, choosing not to start from a diving position. He heard the puzzled comments and ignored them.
“Ready, gentlemen?” Rich called. “Get set. Go!”
Wolf dove into the pool.
Bruce dropped below the surface and pushed off from the wall.
Wolf had already lost. Bruce knew it. All he had to do was go farther than Wolf, and since he was following, he wasn’t the one spending energy trying to set the pace. Doing just a little bit more than someone else was easy. Out in front, Wolf would have to turn to see where he was.
Wolf made the turn in the shallows as Bruce approached. Under the water, Bruce saw Wolf’s foot strike the stairs. Learning from it, Bruce used his hands to provide his momentum and made his own push from the wall as hard as he could so he would propel past the stairs before the momentum dropped.
It set the pattern for the race. By the second lap, Wolf had set out to increase his speed. By the third lap, Wolf had gained a full lap on him. By lap five, Bruce saw Wolf’s pace slow. Bruce fought the fact his lungs were burning as he approached the wall in the deep end and made certain he put maximum power in the push-off. He was limiting his actual swimming to only what was necessary to keep him straight.
Wolf finally broke the surface for air.
Bruce had been lapped twice; he did his best to put out of his mind the fact he was now the only one swimming. It had been so much easier to follow Wolf. Four more laps. He decided it even as he had to purse his lips in a fight against the overwhelming pressure to breathe. He wanted air, desperately. He’d get air after he accomplished his goal.
He kept swimming.
Under the water, noises were distorted. He could hear several people yelling his name. He finally let himself drift toward the surface after making the turn for lap four. He had won, but that hadn’t been the reason he had determined to stay down for that extra lap. Bruce floated on his back and sucked in oxygen.
“You’re a black manatee.”
He glanced at Wolf and saw the man holding the edge of the pool, breathing hard.
“Energy and desire. I wanted it more than you did,” Bruce replied, timing words for breath.
“You earned it.”
Wolf pulled himself from the pool. Bruce eventually swam to the side and accepted Wolf’s offer of a hand out.
Grace was waiting with a towel and he took it with a murmured thanks. “You held your breath forever.”
He swiped his finger across Grace’s nose, smiling at her.
“Why?” she whispered.
He looked at her, then glanced at Wolf. “He needs to know I can rescue him, no matter what the jam,” he said. “I have to be able to last longer than him underwater if I’m going to be able to help him. Help any of them.”
“Another PJ to SEAL silent message.”
“We depend on each other, Grace. Testing the man beside you during peace time is how you trust him in war.”
“Wolf trusts you.”
“I know. Which is why I had to beat him. I plan to keep that trust.”
“You swam with your watch on.”
He looked down and winced. “Not waterproof either.”
“I was afraid it wasn’t.”
He slid it off and held it up. “My birthday . . . Drop a hint to Wolf to replace it.”
She laughed softly as she took it and dropped it into her pocket. “I can probably manage that.”
* * *
He was a fascinating man. Grace watched Bruce as he maneuvered through the crowded room carrying a pilot’s special for her. She’d chosen the place for dinner, a memory from her days training in Pensacola. The music was loud. The seafood restaurant packed. It was hard to hear. She was surrounded by a mass of Air Force personnel and felt a little like she had invaded enemy territory. Not that the Bear Cubs seemed to mind. Wolf and Cougar could make friends anywhere, and they had found Rich, which was all it took to form a tall tale table.
Wolf was telling Jill some tale and being helped along in the storytelling with great delight by Cougar and Rich. Grace smiled, watching. It was wonderful to see the Bear Cubs enjoying a night of fun.
Bruce was going to turn her life upside down. Grace could feel it. And she couldn’t say she minded. He fit in here, just like he fit around the group this afternoon at the pool, as he had fit in during Jill’s deployment party.
“Are you sure this is your idea of a fun evening out?”
Grace laughed at the hopeful tone under that question as she took the glass Bruce offered her. “It’s not so bad. They are all just a bit younger than I remember.”
“Seasoned crews normally hang out at the restaurant down on the pier.”
“I’ve been there. Quieter, sedated, not as much fun.”
He settled beside her at the small table and tugged over the basket. “Better munchies, sports TV you can hear, thicker menus . . .”
“Your age is showing.”
He smiled. “A little.”
She smiled back at him and clicked her glass with his after sampling it. “Not bad. Not exactly on recipe but pretty good.”
“Give me enough time to practice.” He nodded to the other table. “Think I should go rescue Jill? She’s like a little piece of china among that crowd of guys.”
“Remove her from the center of attention? You wound me. Wolf is keeping good care of her.”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Sure it is.” She rather liked seeing this side of the man; Jill would always be his little sister. “I like you, Bruce.”
He winked at her. “It’s mutual, Miss Grace.”
She blushed at the intensity of being watched again. “We could invite Bear and Kelly over to join us.” They were at a table across the way.
Bruce nodded. “We could. And Bear would give me his silent look that suggested I shouldn’t. He’s trying to talk her out of going windsurfing tomorrow.”
“Why? Kelly’s good at it.”
“He’s not.”
“Oh.”
Bruce smiled. “Exactly. Kelly’s good for him. He’s just enough of a legend in the SEALs that marriage was perfect. It added a touch of marshmallow.”
She caught a swallow going down the wrong direction and laughed. “Marshmallow?”
“Kelly’s definition.”
“What if I take pity on you and we go look at the sailboats?”
“They’re all moored up.”
“Walk, Bruce. Simple stuff. Nothing complex.”
“So I’m a little slow on the hints.”
She got up and picked up the glass. “I’ll help you learn. Go tell Wolf where we’re going or he’ll have to play curious cousin and come find me.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re a bit in awe of him?”
“Wolfy? He’s just . . . persistent.”
“If we’re going to check out sailboats, what if I find someone around here who has one we could take out for a few hours?”
“First weekend here and you’ll spoil future ones. Just a walk. Can we pick up Emily later?”
“I knew the real attraction for the weekend was my dog.”
They left the restaurant after stopping to say good-byes to new friends and old.
Bruce offered his hand and Grace accepted.
“My ears are still ringing.”
Grace laughed and squeezed his hand.
“Do you sail?”
“Some. I’m not very good at it.”
“No need to be in order to enjoy it. We could go fishing some weekend, scuba diving.”
“I’d enjoy those enormously.” She didn’t push a conversation, content to simply walk with him, and he didn’t rush to fill the silence either. It had been a long time since she let herself enjoy a night like tonight. Work seemed so far away—Norfolk, flying, the race to keep up with schedules and plans. “Could I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you buy a very old dog?”
He smiled. “There’s a story in that.”
“Is there?”
“I wanted a dog. I ended up at the pound. Emily was one of those dogs who didn’t show much emotion at seeing someone but had that patient gaze and an assumption that I’d come to her.”
“Did she?”
“You think I’m making it up?”
“No. Just find it fascinating that you chose an old lady dog instead of an in-his-prime collie or shepherd.”
“I wanted a dog that would like sitting on the back patio. Those are rare. Why haven’t you ever had a pet?”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
“Fish do not count as pets. And I know because I was curious enough to find out.”
She found it fascinating that he would admit to something that simple. “Pets take . . . space and time and remembering to feed them and vet visits and worrying about things like heartworm and fleas.”
“Yes. And?”
“Admit it, you were just ready to have a pet.”
He hugged her. “I’ll work on you. Cat or dog?”
She couldn’t figure out an answer to that. She’d never thought about it.
“Oh, we have a problem here. Fuzzy with attitude? Friendly and lazy? Yappy and excited to see you?” he asked, hopeful.
She laughed at his classifications. “Not a terrier. I know that much.”
“See? You just moved a step toward a pet.”
“Bruce, you’re going to change my life.”
He rubbed his thumb along her shoulder blade. “Probably.”
“Enjoy doing it too.”
“Absolutely.”
She hugged him back.
* * *
“I’m glad you came.” The beach was deserted at the early morning hour and Bruce was taking advantage of it, using walking Emily to give him an excuse to have one last moment with Grace before she left with Jill and Wolf.
“So am I.”
Bruce tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I could come see you some weekend?”
“I’d like that.”
“Maybe kiss you good-bye?” He’d been thinking about it all weekend.
She just smiled at him. At least it wasn’t a no. He leaned down, tipped her chin with his hand, and gently kissed her. “I’m really glad you came.”
Her hands slid up to his shoulder. “Could you maybe come visit soon?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I seem to remember I have a key to my sister’s place. I could even bring Emily up with me. Buy you a lunch, another mushy card . . .”
“I promise to make it a less scary movie.”
“That has possibilities. Should we play it safe and make it a double date? I could ask them to join us, and Wolf and I can bat around who’s picking up the tab.”
“Would you buy me a pilot’s special?”
“Better yet, I’ll fix you one. I acquired the official recipe.”
“Did you?”
“Pricey too. It cost me a nice fishing lure.”
“Then by all means, visit and I’ll make sure I have all the ingredients.”
“Grace! You coming?” a voice from the parking lot hollered.
“I’m getting paged.”
“Let him come and find you, then get embarrassed for interrupting.”
She chuckled and stepped back. “You’re dangerous for my peace of mind.”
“Mutual, ma’am. Think about me this week.”
“I probably will, if only to wonder how training is going.”
“Please, I’m too old to be reminded of the coming 0400 hop.”
“Only PJs would think of getting up before dawn to go drop into the sea.”
“True. Bravery and smarts don’t always go together.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“Wolf does seem to be leaning on the car horn.”
She walked backward up the path to the stairs going up to the parking lot. “Are you going to say good-bye?”
“Ladies first.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then we won’t,” Bruce replied comfortably. He tugged a piece of candy from his pocket. “Catch.”
She caught the tumbling piece of candy. “Where did you find it?”
“Early Valentine’s Day?” It was a heart-shaped piece of chocolate.
“You mean it was left over from earlier this year.”
“Last year more likely,” he corrected. “Stored in my freezer just for you.”
“Romantic.”
“Practical. I need room for the frozen fish.”
She laughed and bit off a piece, starting up the stairs from the beach. “Call me.”
“Count on it.”
“Wolf, I’m coming! I’m not deaf.” She glanced back one more time. “Not before your 0400 hop.”
“Now would I do that?”
She just smiled and waved and disappeared from view.
* * *
Wolf carried her bag upstairs for her. Grace unlocked her apartment and accepted it. “Do I get a hug good-bye?” Wolf asked.
She leaned against him to give him a one-arm hug. “You’re learning. You normally try to duck them.”
“I’m a changed man since Incirlik,” he replied, squeezing her. “Thanks for coming this weekend.”
“I enjoyed it.”
“You and Bruce seemed to be having a decent time.”
She just smiled. Wolf wanted more than that, but she knew when silence was the better course of action. “You’ve got to get Jill home and then get back to Pensacola for the start of the class, and I’ve got to get to work.”
“You are an incredible clam at times.”
“Working on it.”
“I want my chatterbox back who tells me more than I want to know.”
“Good-bye, Wolf.”
“For now, Gidget. For now.” He headed downstairs, whistling, to take Jill home.
Grace tugged the door shut, looked around her apartment, and with a small laugh reached for her bag. And to think on Friday she was convinced she would be coming back to this place wanting to bury her head in the sand after a less than successful visit.
“Did it exceed expectations? Oh yeah,” she said as she carried her bag to the bedroom. She opened her closet and retrieved her uniform. She was due on base at 1300 and it would be good to be early.
The doorbell rang as she polished her shoes.
What had she forgotten? Hopefully not her purse, she’d never hear the end of it.
“Lieutenant Yates?”
“Yes.” The deliveryman was holding a huge bouquet. She accepted the vase, delighted. “Hold on a sec,” she asked and made the tip worth his time.
The flowers were from Bruce, she was certain of that. But to have been able to time the delivery so close . . . Wolf must have called him after dropping her off.
The card was tucked inside. Grace, check your e-mail.
She cleared the desktop and made a place for the vase, then pulled up her e-mail.
Grace ~
I started this note to you last night and wanted to time it for your homecoming. Thank you for filling my weekend with joy. Besides Emily’s embarrassing me by deciding sawdust was good to eat, there wasn’t much I can think of I would have changed. I miss you already.
Bruce
Bruce ~
The flowers are beautiful, and I will think of you often. I
wish I had more elegant words to offer to say thanks.
Grace
Grace ~
You just did, beautifully.
Bruce
Twenty-Three
* * *
SEPTEMBER 28
PENSACOLA, FLORIDA
Bruce unlocked the back door and picked up his duffel bag of clothes he would have to wash in the morning. Lackland Air Force Base in Texas had been hot. The television was on in the den. “I’m back, Rich.” He walked through to the kitchen in desperate need of a drink as he heard his partner turn off the television and come to meet him. “Emily okay? The roofer and the window guys get out?”
“Emily ate you out of house and home and slept, the roofing estimate is on the table, and the window guy laughed first but gave you a quote. I don’t think he was that eager to get selected.”
“Can’t blame him. Those two attic windows are suicide projects. You want the job?” Bruce asked.
“Not if you’re going to get annoyed if they leak.”
“Smart man. I know my own limits. Someone will get paid to replace those two.”
“How was the meeting?” Rich asked.
“Do you want to be tasked to Argentina?”
“Not particularly.”
Bruce studied options in the refrigerator. “Then it was a waste of time. Thanks for staying over and keeping stuff moving for me.”
“Free food, cable that works, I’ve had harder assignments in my life.”
Bruce pulled out the orange juice and in the light of the refrigerator caught sight of what was on the table. The kitchen table was stacked, not with newspapers and the occasional bill but two crates of letters. He turned on the overhead light.
“What’s this?” He picked up one and found it addressed to him, care of his squadron. The pit of his stomach got a tight feeling.
Rich looked at the crates. “Would you believe the Air Force post office lost a sack of mail?”
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