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Sign, SEAL, Deliver

Page 16

by Rogenna Brewer


  “That sounds like a fine idea,” her mother said. “Why don’t you take Zach with you? I’m sure he’d like to get out after being cooped up in that little guest house all week.”

  Zach could have kissed the woman.

  Michelle seemed annoyed by the idea. But either she really didn’t care or she was too polite to come up with an excuse. “Dad, may I borrow the Mercedes?”

  “Of course.”

  They headed out through the kitchen together.

  “Look, if you don’t want me to come along you can just drop me off at the guest house…” Now, why had he said that? They were both being too polite and careful with each other lately.

  Michelle plucked the keys to the sports car from a rack by the kitchen entrance. “You’re welcome to come along, Zach. I’m just not sure what kind of company I am these days.” She took the steps down to the garage.

  She was all the company he needed.

  Zach followed her out to the garage where they climbed into the little Mercedes convertible. Michelle started the car and they put the top down.

  “What are you looking up at the library?” he asked.

  She ignored his lame attempt at conversation for the few seconds it took her to back out of the garage.

  “The Koran,” she finally answered.

  And he wished he hadn’t asked. She’d become obsessed with Middle Eastern culture. And Zach still wasn’t sure how much of that obsession was due to one man in particular.

  They drove into Middleburg in silence. Michelle didn’t even turn on the radio and he was reluctant to make any further attempt at conversation.

  “You had your hair done.”

  “What?” She spared him a glance. “Oh, my hair. Well, it was pretty bad before, wasn’t it?” The corners of her mouth lifted.

  “You should smile more often. Your whole face lights up.”

  She looked at him then, really looked at him. He just wished he knew what the eyes behind the sunglasses would have revealed. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “No, I mean it. Part of your charm, Zach, is that you know how to compliment a lady.”

  “And the other part?”

  “That’s enough. I wouldn’t want you to think that you’re more than partly charming,” she teased.

  He relaxed for the rest of the drive. A teasing smile and the knowledge that she considered him at least partly charming was real progress.

  Even before Michelle pulled the car into the town square, they could read the sign in the library window.

  Closed on Mondays.

  Michelle slumped over the steering wheel in frustration.

  “We could still get out and have a look around town,” he suggested. “I thought I saw a bookstore a couple blocks back.” Before he could so much as open his door, she’d backed out of the parking space, cutting off another driver. The guy leaned on his horn.

  “In a hurry?” Zach asked.

  “I’m just a little rusty behind the wheel.”

  “What happened to your car?”

  “I think Dad said they put it in storage…” She didn’t add when my plane crashed, but they both knew that was what she meant.

  “Where’s your Mustang?” she asked. “I’m surprised you’ve been without it this long. You love that car.”

  He’d had his vintage ’61 Mustang since high school. He’d restored the car piece by piece. The hood ornament alone had cost him one entire paycheck.

  “Still in California. You’re not the only one who’s driving is a little rusty these days.”

  He left it at that.

  They pulled into a parking garage near the bookstore. “I’ll miss you,” she said.

  Okay, maybe he could push it just a little bit. He turned toward her, putting his arm across her backrest. She opened the door, but stayed in her seat. “Michelle, I’ll miss you, too. But it’s not goodbye. Not forever.”

  When she looked as if she’d like to bolt, he grabbed her hand, the left one. The one still wearing his ring. He stroked her fingers with his thumb.

  “The first phase of SEAL training lasts six weeks. After that I should get a weekend liberty at least. Maybe we should think about spending that time together. You could meet me in Coronado on the last day of Hell Week. And we could head up North to a bed-and-breakfast in Napa Valley. What do you think? Two rooms, no pressure,” he prompted, following her silence.

  He congratulated himself on the suggestion, simple yet classy, like Michelle. He’d be tired from a week of sleep deprivation, but it would give him something to look forward to. A reason to keep going during six weeks of grueling training. He sure needed one.

  She looked down at their clasped hands, then at his face. “I know you want to talk, Zach. But I need more time.” She extracted her hand.

  And he was left holding air. Before he could say anything else she was gone.

  They walked the block or so to the bookstore entrance. She didn’t even make a fuss when he opened the door for her. Once inside, Michelle hung out in the religion and travel sections. And the knot he’d been walking around with all day tightened with the pain of a thousand sit-ups.

  Did she miss Asad that much? Or was she just trying hard to understand? She loaded his arms with books. While they were in the travel section, he added one on bed-and-breakfasts to his burden.

  “I think I’m done,” she said at last.

  They moved to the cash register where the bookseller rang up their purchases.

  “That’ll be $116.11,” the woman behind the register said.

  Michelle stared at her blankly. “I didn’t bring any money. Or my purse. How could I forget something like that?”

  Zach pulled out his wallet and selected a credit card, which he handed to the clerk. “There’s always an adjustment period after a cruise,” he offered the excuse. “You know that.”

  But this cruise had been like no others. They both knew that. Like him, she was no longer attached to a ship or the Air Wing, but assigned TDY, temporary duty under outpatient medical care. So how did they adjust when they couldn’t even talk about it?

  He took the bag of books from the clerk. “I’d better drive since you don’t have your license.”

  She stared at him for a moment and he thought she’d protest. “I forgot the keys in the car,” she said with stunned disbelief.

  Michelle ran for the door and all the way back to the parking garage. Zach did the same, more worried about her reaction than the car. They both breathed a sigh of relief when the Mercedes was right where they’d left it.

  She climbed in the passenger side and he handed her the books before closing the door. When he climbed in the driver side he saw that she was frantically digging through the shopping bag.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong with me! I forgot to have the parking ticket validated.”

  “Is that all?” He would have laughed, but she was clearly distraught. “So what? You forgot.”

  “I forget everything these days,” she said in a voice so small and helpless he just wanted to take her into his arms. And he would have if he didn’t think she’d push him away.

  Instead, he patted her knee.

  She shifted her leg away, then leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed.

  Zach pulled out his wallet one more time.

  Three days later

  DR. TRAHERN’S OFFICE

  Bethesda Naval Hospital

  THIS WAS Michelle’s fifth meeting with Dr. Trahern in ten days. And the woman always started their conversation the same way. “How are you feeling today, Michelle?”

  During the first four visits Michelle’s answer had graduated from a hesitant, “fine, I guess,” to “fine.” This time she answered, “Zach’s leaving today.”

  Sloan removed her reading glasses and leaned forward in the overstuffed chair. Michelle sat opposite the psychiatrist with her shoes off, her chin resting on her knees.

 
“How does that make you feel?”

  Michelle picked lint from her khaki uniform pants. “Sad. And please, don’t ask me what sad feels like.”

  “You’re getting good at this. That was my next question.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to cry today.” They laughed instead, Michelle’s nervous energy needing an outlet.

  “You can invite him in if you’d like. He’s wearing out that year-old copy of Ladies’ Home Journal in the waiting room.”

  “No.” Michelle shook off the suggestion, but her smile remained. Since Zach was practically all she talked about during her sessions she didn’t think it was such a good idea. “I’m going to tell him today.”

  “Good,” Sloan encouraged. “Good for you, I think you should.”

  Always cold these days, Michelle pulled the standard-issue navy-blue cardigan closer. “I’ve also been thinking about those EDMR treatments we discussed. I’m not ready to try yet, but soon.”

  “You’re making great strides in a very short time, Michelle. No need to rush. But we could cut your sessions back to twice a week if you like, then maybe once a week. You have my home number for emergencies. Don’t hesitate to use it. Have you stocked up on the reading material I suggested?”

  “Oh, yes.” They chatted away the rest of the hour like two friends. That was probably the thing Michelle appreciated most about Sloan Trahern. The woman didn’t make her feel like the total basket case everyone else seemed to think she’d become.

  She was getting better. Being able to talk about her ordeal helped.

  As the session wound down, Dr. Trahern walked her to the door. “By the way, congratulations on making lieutenant commander.”

  “Thank you.” Just that morning Michelle had added the new rank to her uniform. At one time that was all she’d thought about. Not anymore.

  She opened the door to the waiting room. As predicted, Zach had been flipping through the women’s magazine. He stood as she came toward him.

  “Ready to go?”

  “I’d like to stop by the florist in the lobby first—if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure,” he agreed. He’d also agreed to wear his uniform when she’d asked him, too. In fact, he was too damn agreeable these days. Just like everyone else around her.

  “How’d we get to this point? You a lieutenant junior grade and me a lieutenant commander,” she asked.

  “You took the high road. And I took the low road.” His answer was lighthearted.

  But not necessarily true.

  They rode the elevator to the lobby, then followed the signs posted on the wall.

  “You looking for anything in particular? Roses?” he asked as they wandered through the shop.

  “Daisies.”

  Zach handed her a bunch.

  “I want ’em all,” she said. “I want to buy out the whole shop.”

  He looked at her strangely, but loaded up her arms as requested. And when she couldn’t hold any more he carried the rest.

  “I even brought my purse this time,” she teased.

  “I don’t mind treating.”

  “Okay, fifty-fifty.”

  But getting to their money with their hands full was another matter. By the time they finished checking out the register and were gathering their purchases to leave, an older woman, who’d lined up behind them, had become very disgruntled.

  “My daughter’s gallbladder surgery is going to be over before I get through the line,” she muttered under her breath.

  Michelle turned to the woman. “I sincerely hope so. And I hope that your daughter is well on her way to recovery by the time you get upstairs. Here—” she handed the woman a bunch of daisies “—that’s for you and your daughter. I’m sorry you had to wait in line.”

  The woman mumbled her thanks to their departing backs.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Zach asked when they arrived at the car breathless and laughing.

  “Just doing my part to make grumpy old women smile.”

  They loaded up her dad’s Mercedes with the flowers. “Next stop…?” he queried.

  She met his gaze over the roof of the car. “I want you to take me to Sara’s grave.”

  He instantly sobered. “Of course.”

  En route to Arlington she made him stop at two corner flower stands where she proceeded to buy out their stock of daisies as well.

  “How are we going to lug all these flowers to the grave site if we can’t get a vehicle pass?” he asked.

  “Not a problem, Lieutenant,” she answered. “You’re driving an admiral’s car.”

  “How’d I forget that?”

  “Did you think all those sharp salutes were for you, hotshot?”

  “Actually, I thought they were for America’s Favorite Daughter.”

  “Please, don’t remind me. I have to get up at 0400 tomorrow so a makeup artist and hairstylist can turn me into something I’m not in time for my appearance on “Good Morning America.” A regular media circus is set to follow. My dad held them off for as long as he could, but the president insisted. And it’s not even an election year. Do you know the White House has assigned me a publicist and a press agent? I shudder to think of it all.”

  They’d just pulled into the visitor center of Arlington National Cemetery. Zach turned off the ignition and just sat there staring at her.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because you sound great. You look great. Almost…”

  “Almost what? Like my old self? ’Cause I hope not. I kind of like the new me. I wasn’t so happy before.”

  He nodded his understanding, but she wondered if he really got it. She’d changed, and from now on there was no going back. Only forward. “It should be you in front of those cameras, Zach.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass. As you know, I’ve got an appointment tomorrow. Besides, you might just find you’re a born politician.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  They obtained a pass without delay, then drove Memorial Drive at an appropriately respectful pace, passing row upon row of headstones that reminded them of the price of freedom.

  “You okay?” Zach asked, pulling to the curb.

  “Yeah, I’m going to be…fine.” Okay, she’d been wrong. There was one step backward to take. “Was it a nice ceremony?”

  He nodded. They got out of the car and gathered up all the daisies. Then Zach led the way to Sara’s grave site.

  “Looks like her headstone is up.”

  “Sara Marie Daniels,” Michelle read. The stone gave the date of her death and the date the body was laid to rest. Zach kept to the background while Michelle unwrapped bunches of daisies and piled them on her RIO’s grave. When she was finished, she sat on the ground, hugging her knees and staring at the headstone. “Did you know Sara was gay?”

  Zach moved closer. “I think everyone on the ship knew that.”

  “Well, I didn’t. And I was the one bunking with her.” Michelle sighed. “I couldn’t tell them everything during the debriefing.” She looked up at Zach and he sat beside her. He’d always been such a good listener.

  “Her back was broken. She couldn’t move below the waist. She probably had massive internal injuries, too, because she was bleeding from her ears, nose and mouth. She knew she was dying. I could see that she was suffering…she wanted me to pull the trigger, but I couldn’t…I just couldn’t.”

  Michelle’s throat burned, but she continued. If she was going to make a new life for herself, she was going to come clean about everything. “Sara said, ‘That’s okay, Michelle, because I love you.’ I said ‘I love you, too.’ And she said, ‘No, I really love you. Now put the gun in my hand.’ And that’s when I realized what she wanted. We argued. I made all kinds of promises…. I told her I was going to get her out of there. We both knew that was a lie.”

  Michelle stared at the toes of her polished shoes.

  “I didn’t want to give her the gun. But she couldn’t reach it without my help. So I
placed her pistol in her hand. Then she confessed something to me. She told me she’d reported to Captain Greene that she’d seen you and me in the shower. She thought if I hated you enough, I’d come to love her just a little bit. Then she told me to be strong because she knew you wouldn’t stop looking until you found me.” She turned to Zach. “I knew it, too. I know what I said in the desert, but I never really blamed you. And it was unfair of me to say so.”

  He touched her face. “Michelle—”

  She stilled his hand and his words. Getting too sentimental would make what she had to say that much harder.

  “Zach, I have a confession, too. I was never pregnant…. We were never pregnant.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I missed a period—probably because I was scared and we were stupid. When I told you I was pregnant, I already knew that I wasn’t. Eloping sounded romantic. But you got all responsible and wanted to tell our parents…. I got even more scared. I know I’m rambling, but you’re just looking at me. Please, say something. I never realized…”

  “Why are you just telling me this now?”

  “All my life I’ve been using you as my safety net. It’s time I stood on my own two feet.” She twisted his ring off her finger and placed it in his palm. “I’m giving you your wings back, Zach. I’ve been holding your heart under false pretenses.”

  0700 Monday

  NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE CENTER,

  Coronado, CA

  “I’M HERE. Now what?” Zach hooked his aviator sunglasses in the pocket of his bomber jacket and handed his service record to Captain Miller as they descended the steps of SEAL training headquarters.

  “Now you sweat.” The corner of Miller’s mouth twitched. “I’m really going to enjoy whipping your smart ass into shape, Prince.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be moving on up the line to Commander of Naval Special Warfare or something?” Zach asked.

  “Not yet. But you’re going to wish I had. Check in next door for uniforms and bunk assignment. And see that building over there?” He gestured with Zach’s record toward a shack across the grinder where trainees were beginning to assemble. “That’s your first stop. The barber.”

  Zach picked up his gear and started off in the indicated direction.

 

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