SEAL My Destiny (SEAL Brotherhood)

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SEAL My Destiny (SEAL Brotherhood) Page 13

by Sharon Hamilton


  “So bring him along.”

  “Not a chance. You know what he said to Christy this morning?”

  “Wait a minute. He’s talking already?”

  “Shit, Luke. Where you been? He’s fuckin’ three and a half.”

  “Like I’m supposed to know the development cycle of my LPO’s kid. Kyle, no offense, but I’d rather pay attention to what Christy is wearing than check out whether or not your rug rat is talking.”

  “Watch it, Luke.”

  “Okay, it’s a big deal to you. I get it.”

  “No, man. It’s a big deal what he said.”

  “So hurry up and fuckin’ tell me.”

  “He dropped his spoon on the floor. He said, ‘Oh, fuck, I dropped it.’”

  Now that was funny. Luke could just see the scene.

  “What’d you expect? You just said he’s been hanging around you more these days. You think he’d start talking college prep?”

  “I caught hell from Christy.”

  “As you should. Not likely he picked up his language from her side, ya know?”

  “Yeah. So I’m trying to limit his exposure to stuff like poker parties. But I’ll come if Christy gets home and doesn’t have other plans.”

  “Roger that, then.” Luke was happy for Kyle, who had found a woman he would let boss him around the house, even though on the job Kyle was usually the one in charge. He chuckled when he dialed Fredo’s number and didn’t get an answer. He did get hold of his fellow teammate, Tyler Gray.

  “So Colin went ahead and did the deed.”

  “He sure did.”

  “When did you get home?”

  “Um. Just now.”

  “You see Nick?”

  “Sure did. He’s got a fine little place there. Going into the wine business.”

  “I hear he’s leaving the Teams.”

  “Not sure. It happens, Tyler. You know that. Comes a point when it’s not fun anymore.” He was thinking about his own battles. Was this what was going on with him? Was it getting to be time to get out? He’d already transferred from the East Coast teams. But he liked Team 3 and his LPO. If he couldn’t make it here, he wouldn’t be happy anywhere.

  Something else to talk to the doc about.

  “So Tyler, you ready for some fun tonight?”

  “I’m not feeling too good about the poker, but we could meet at the Scupper for a couple of brews?”

  “Works for me. I’ve been driving half the day.”

  “Thought you flew.”

  “Came back with someone.”

  “As in of the female kind?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “And why the fuck aren’t you tied up this evening? You losing your touch, Luke?”

  Nothing wrong with my touch. It’s my head.

  “Long story. Tell you later. Meet you at the Scupper in an hour?” he said while he turned toward Coronado.

  “I’ll be there.”

  He decided to check in with his Chief, Timmons, who turned out to be in a foul mood. He called him on his cell, since he hadn’t thought the man would be working. He was wrong.

  “Shit, Luke, you sound like hell.”

  “I didn’t want to call you, either.”

  “You okay? Back from…where-the-hell-were-you?” Timmons growled.

  “Sonoma County. My sister got married to a guy from up there.”

  Luke heard rustling. “I’m looking out this window at some barracks, some palm trees growing despite the Navy’s efforts to kill them through neglect. I’ve got to go home and have dinner with a woman who hasn’t talked to me for over a month. I’m wondering, son, why you ever came back.”

  “Had to, sir. It’s my job. You know that.” Luke wondered whether Timmons’s inquiry about his mental health had as much to do with his own issues. Sounded like his household was anything but happy.

  The pause meant they were done talking.

  “You okay, sir?” Part of him welcomed the distraction, and he took it as a good sign he cared about his chief.

  “I’m about as okay as a third tit on a warthog. You know I’m leaving the Navy soon. I dunno, is it okay?”

  “So, take a side trip to Sonoma County. It’s beautiful up there. Maybe look for work up there.”

  “No can do, son,” Timmons barked into the earpiece.

  “And why not?”

  “They don’t have a doll factory up there and my wife would never tolerate it.” Timmons’s wife had filled their bedroom with a museum-level doll collection, and everyone knew he hated. Luke suspected he spent most nights in his recliner in front of the TV.

  “So you go by yourself,” Luke posed. “Just for a vacation. Go look up Nick. He’s adjusting well to living away from the community, for now.”

  “Keep your fuckin’ eyes in your own yard.”

  “Yeah. Take good care of those dolls.”

  “Fuck you!” Timmons roared. The rustling in the background intensified followed by a crash and tinkle of shattered glass.

  Which meant the frog statue was toast again. Luke would have to tell Kyle to order their sixth replacement of the team gift and mascot. Another three hundred dollars down the drain. But he liked to think the frog might wind up in Timmons’s bedroom, keeping the dolls company. Then Timmons would know his boys on Team 3 were thinking about him.

  Luke drove into his apartment complex. It was perched on a hill, and the ocean view would have been nice, if it hadn’t been for another apartment building, which had appeared overnight and completely obscured the vista.

  His apartment was sparse. Since he never spent any time there, it wasn’t furnished with anything he couldn’t pick up at Goodwill or the local discount furniture store. One of his buds had pointed out he was still eating his dinners on the floor, so he went out the next day and bought two chairs and a small, stained card table. Now they looked shabby. He remembered seeing Julie’s old room, and could easily guess what her place in San Diego looked like. Her classroom was probably the same. Filled with light and color. Stimulating all the young minds in her care. Filled with happy chaos.

  He chastised himself for thinking so much about her. He needed lack of stimulation, lack of chaos and color. He needed clean, sparse, maybe a little cold, to calm him down. Maybe a midnight swim. He needed the distraction of a couple of beers and the intense friendship of one of his brothers. He needed to “plug in.” His exploration into the free-flowing, soft, warm side of Julie was a dangerous place where he’d lost control. He wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t trust himself. Not yet.

  He thought about his sister, Stephanie, on her honeymoon, about what they were doing. He imagined his sister and her brother walking on some white sand beach together. Warm. In love. Happy. He saw romantic dinners and midnight swims naked in warm water. Warm water, not like the cold waters of Coronado when they were doing a wet and sandy.

  Good for you, Stephanie. They hadn’t been especially close while they were growing up. Luke had gone into the Navy while she was still in braces. She’d gone away to boarding school when their mom died. Luke lived with the family of a friend and finished his last year of public high school and then decided to go into the Navy without college. But Stephanie had the opportunity for an educated future, and she’d met Colin in San Diego at school. When Luke transferred to Coronado, he struck up a friendship with Colin, who couldn’t stop talking about his sister he was constantly trying to hook up with him. Funny how things turned out.

  His eyes stung again at the thought of what might have happened if Colin had arranged the blind date he’d been threatening for a couple of years. Luke wished he could hit a reset button, like in the movie, so he could meet her again for the first time. He’d have gone slower this time. He’d have taken his time and told her about his struggles with PTSD before he’d fucked her. Before he’d let her form an emotional attachment which no doubt was causing her some pain. Maybe some anger. Well, he deserved it. He deserved all of it. God, he was such a dog.

&nbs
p; The scupper was bustling with a bachelor party. Some regular Navy guy and several of his friends were entertaining themselves, being louder than was comfortable for him. But then he probably had about five more years’ military service in than they did. It was like looking in a mirror, the way back to when he first made the Teams. He and a couple of other buddies had been downright obnoxious in Little Creek. Some older Team guys sat in on their little celebration, laughing right along with them, pleased with their enthusiasm, but warning them tougher days were ahead.

  That’s right, the only easy day was yesterday.

  And yesterday was a pretty nice day, thought Luke. He felt like the healing he’d begun was here to stay. He’d felt like part of a family, like maybe he could maintain his share of the emotional stability. He trusted himself.

  But what had occurred on the trip home made him question everything. Julie deserved more than a vacant shirt, or someone trying to just walk through life pretending he felt whole. And he didn’t have the energy to “play nice” when he didn’t feel nice.

  He ordered his beer and took it out to the patio. The fire pit gas flame was lit, but the patio was empty. He sat down and enjoyed the heat from the fire, staring into the flames. Even though it was a warm San Diego night, the long ride, even though he’d slept for part of it, had given him a backache.

  There were no answers there in the orange tongues of light. His eyes dried out from the heat and stung. Or maybe it was because he’d shed so many tears his tear ducts were trying to replenish themselves. But there was no question, his melancholy was starting to worry him. Big swing in emotion from yesterday.

  Tyler sauntered in and took up his usual position, carrying a long-necked bottle.

  “You look like shit, Luke.”

  “You weren’t the first one I called, either, asshole,” Luke said to his best friend. Without looking at Tyler’s face, he could tell the guy was taunting him with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes that told the world he was up to mischief.

  “You gonna tell me about the sweet thing you brought back with you from up North?”

  Luke rounded on him, ready to punch his lights out. He didn’t like the way Tyler called her a “sweet young thing.” It was disrespectful. He didn’t have the right to talk that way about Julie.

  Tyler was smart and knew how to work him: say nothing more. Let Luke stew in his own awkwardness. That irritated him, too. “She lives down here. Colin’s sister.”

  “Ah, the schoolteacher he’s been trying to hook me up with,” Tyler said.

  “You?” Luke couldn’t believe he wasn’t Colin’s only choice for a brother-in-law.

  “You’re fuckin’ kidding me, Luke. You don’t think I’d measure up, that it? Well I’ll tell you something, asshole. If I’d brought her back, I wouldn’t be here having some sad brews with you, old man.” Tyler liked to refer to Luke as the old man, but he was only a month older.

  Luke was at his limit, but he had to admit Tyler was right. He’d been an idiot today. And he was being an idiot right now, too. Late to the party on both counts. Couldn’t stop his mood this afternoon and couldn’t stop it now.

  But he still didn’t like Colin trying to get both of them to take his sister out.

  “I offered to drive her home. That’s all, Tyler.”

  Tyler took a long drag off his beer. He signaled for another round for both of them. Two was usually their limit, unless one of them wasn’t going to drive home, which was always possible. There was a Team guy named Darrell who lived not more than three blocks away from the Scupper. He could always crash there, if need be. Then Luke realized Tyler was grinning at him.

  “What?” he asked, irritation coming back.

  “You fucked her.”

  Several of the customers at nearby tables, luckily all men, turned and looked at Tyler.

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “You fucked her.”

  Luke stood up. He said, “God damn it. Of course I fucked her,” loud enough even passersby on the sidewalk out front could hear him.

  So much for the low-profile night he wasn’t going to have.

  Chapter 22

  ‡

  LUKE AND TYLER stopped by Sanouk’s apartment for the poker game. The two buddies were not speaking, but Luke knew it was just the way it was going to be tonight. Tomorrow everything would be back to normal. Hanging around Tyler and a few others on the team would either grind off or chisel off his sharp edges. He chalked it up to being a little testy from the long drive from Sonoma County and because he hadn’t worked out in a few days or taken an ocean swim. He’d let himself get soft in the head. That’s all it was.

  Sanouk was now smoking cigars, which he’d justified as being better than inhaling cigarettes. When whey walked into the apartment, he greeted them, tipping the green visor Gunny’d liked to wear for poker night. The thing had been chewed by a dog long dead before Sanouk had ever made it to the states. The Team had adopted the young Thai because he was Gunny’s blood, and Gunny’s blood was Team blood. The old Gunnery Sergeant was the one who had brought a lot of the crew home from parties, saving them from a DUI and Conduct Unbecoming charge. The regular Navy guys and MPs were only too happy to dish out their little slice of pain, fueled mostly by jealousy.

  After Gunny passed, Sanouk and his mother had taken over Gunny’s gym, and had not changed one thing, except to bring in a new glass case for the Popeye T-shirts and water bottles they sold. She also brought in a chair masseuse, a white-haired, ancient guy with incredibly strong hands. No one knew his name, although he practically lived at the gym, and he gave the best chair massages anyone could recall. Turned out he was the relative living in California who helped Sanouk’s mother, Amornpan, get her papers in order, and lent her money to come over to see her grizzled husband before his death. Gunny had left Thailand while she was pregnant.

  She did help Gunny die with dignity. She’d had something of a premonition about it. Though Gunny wasn’t the husband she’d always wanted, she was the wife he’d always needed. She was held in a great deal of respect by Team guys, and was always invited to Team events, like the mother of one of the Team members she almost was.

  Amornpan was beautiful. Gunny said she’d gotten more beautiful with age. And all the Team guys knew it was because of his love for this woman, in spite of all the years of separation. The Team wanted to get them re-married, but Gunny insisted there was nothing wrong with the first marriage and didn’t see any need to change things. It was a fitting end to a man all the SEALs of Team 3 considered their surrogate father.

  Now, seeing Sanouk wearing the visor, Gunny’s favorite hat for poker games, nearly brought Luke to tears. He steeled himself for the hazing he surely was going to get tonight.

  “Hey, my man,” Sanouk said to the two of them. Jones and Fredo moved over to make more room at the table. Luke begged off, saying he was out of money, which was partially true. The two nights at the Waterwheel Inn had cost him nearly a half month’s take-home pay.

  “Fuck sake, Luke. We’re playing quarters, here. You don’t fuckin’ have a dollar on you?” Sanouk’s eyes were dancing. A quick glance down at his winnings and Luke realized why.

  Quietly he got out his wallet, took a dollar bill out and laid it on the table in front of Sanouk. “Here. Just take it now. This way I lose it quick and painless.”

  Fredo shot daggers at Luke. “You fuckin giving up before you fight? Who told you that was a good idea?”

  “I just don’t feel like losing my dollar slow,” Luke answered.

  “See, that’s the fuckin’ point, Luke,” Jones added. “You assume you’ll lose it. How the fuck do you know?”

  “Because all you guys are better players than I am, and look how he’s cleaning your clocks,” Luke insisted.

  Fredo shook his head. “Fuckin’ pussy. Go off to a wedding, man and you come home and mope around—”

  “I’m not fuckin’ moping around—” Luke started, but soon it was a regular free-for-al
l. Everyone but Sanouk was standing up, arguing about the game, about Luke, about anything and everything. Though the language was blue with swearing, and arms were waving about, the tabletop remained intact. It was an unspoken rule: you were the bad guy, regardless of the legitimacy of your claim, if you disturbed the game.

  Tyler whispered something to Fredo, who nodded. Being the senior member of the group, not in terms of rank, but in terms of years of service, he spoke with authority.

  “Okay guys. We go for a swim, and anyone who objects does some fuckin’ wet and sandy.”

  Luke wondered what the difference was, since it would be freakin’ cold out there right now. Fredo had drilled him a look and, amidst the grumbles and curses, the group put on their jackets and began to file out of Sanouk’s apartment.

  Jones hated the midnight swims the most. He turned to Sanouk. “You should come.” It was all the Thai youth needed. “Hell, yeah!” the kid said. He carefully put out his cigar and dashed to the bedroom, coming back shirtless, but with a towel draped over his neck.

  The poker game remained exactly where and how they’d left it. There was a good chance they’d continue the next day.

  LUKE WAS ESPECIALLY cold tonight. The aches from the long car ride and his lack of sleep in the last twenty-four hours were catching up to him. He teamed up with Jones, the slowest swimmer on the Team. They all shed their pants and shoes in one communal pile. Some took off the T-shirts underneath whatever else they’d worn, which included Fredo, who had been wearing a bright red Hawaiian print. Some, like Jones and Luke, left their shirts on for added warmth.

  The nearly full moon reminded Luke of a BUD/S training on the other side of the island, in an un-gated area of public beach separated with orange plastic netting for a makeshift divider. He’d looked at the moon during the training and imagined it was warming him. Now, as he headed to the water with the rest of the Team, he wondered what the fuck he’d been thinking.

  The water was chilly, but not as bad as he’d expected. It did clear his head right away. Jones took off in a slow crawl, following Fredo and Sanouk, who were in the lead by a considerable margin. Luke worked to catch up to Jones, and the two men began a swimming-in-tandem exercise like a couple of porpoises. The inlet was choppy and just as dirty as usual. He could taste remnants of diesel fuel and whatever else had sloughed off the Navy cruisers and small craft. In the daytime the water looked much better than it tasted at night.

 

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