by Laura Day
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental
Danger Close copyright @ 2014 by Laura Day. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews
CHAPTER ONE
Angie Baker finished packing her husband’s bags while he was in the shower. Breakfast was ready and waiting on the table for him. While he always teased her, saying he liked the cooking better on the ship, nonetheless, she knew he would miss her cooking. He wasn’t as good at lying as he thought himself to be.
White boxers, twelve pair, check. She knew she had been a Navy wife for too long when she caught herself inventorying his clothes as she packed. But aside from the frequent tours on the ship, it was a good life for them and their son, not to mention the daughter growing inside her. It was almost criminal that Derrick was going to miss her birth in person, but he had promised they would figure out something. Somehow, he would be there, through Skype if nothing else.
He better figure it out, she mused. Still smiling, she placed the ten green t-shirts into the sea bag. Check.
She hoped her sister, Sarah, would come out and stay with her for a while. She wanted her to be there with her when the baby was born, but she hadn’t sounded overly enthused about it when she had asked before. She had agreed to think about it though.
Angie figured that she should ask her again. Besides, it would probably do Sarah some good to come out and be with her for a while. It may even help her remember what it meant to be a part of a family. Her sister had gone her own way for a long time, longer than even she herself might have intended.
Things had always seemed tougher for Sarah for some reason. College hadn’t worked, relationships hadn’t worked. Hell, life hadn’t really worked. Angie thought about how it would be really great to spend some time with her again. Socks, 15 pair, green, check.
“Damn it, who has my green socks?” Angie said, almost instinctively.
She giggled as she said the movie quote out loud, though she couldn’t quite remember the name of the movie. She could picture the scene in the movie, a room full of soldiers, Marines maybe, all packing up to go to war. Then, someone had blurted the line out in the confusion. She didn’t think it had been a comedy, but the line had always cracked her and Derrick up, considering all of their socks were green. The movie character could have just as easily asked who had his green t-shirt.
She walked to the bookshelf, the one Derrick had built into the wall for her when they first moved in. It wasn’t exactly built in, since they lived in an apartment; but, he had built up around it, making it the length of the far wall in their bedroom. As a result, it appeared to be sunk into the wall. When they moved, it wouldn’t take five minutes to pull then entire thing out and take it with them.
Though the far bottom corner contained a few military-themed books, mostly Tom Clancy novels that Derrick intended to read at some point, the rest was filled with her own volumes. There were multiple rows of King and Koontz books. Many of the classics were there, as well. Plus, there were newer releases and abridged versions, passing as literature at Wal-Mart. Even she had to concede that the originals to epic novels like War and Peace and the Count of Monte Cristo, were a bit longer than she dared.
Every time he left for a hitch, she would throw a couple selections that she thought he might want to read into his bag to take with him. She had once asked him what he wanted to take, but he had simply told her to pick something. Upon his return, he always told her the books were good and that he enjoyed them; but, she often doubted he had used them for anything other than weights to hold his belongings in place as the ship rocked on the waves. She never considered quizzing him on them to find out for certain. At the very least, she liked to think he would be reminded of her every time he saw them. That’s good enough, she thought. Two books, fiction, check.
She walked back into the kitchen and poured three glasses of orange juice to go with breakfast. Her timing couldn’t have been better, too. She sat them on the table, then she turned in time to see him coming through the bedroom.
“Breakfast is served,” she said, smiling as she bent slightly in a curtsy.
Derrick returned her smile, as he took his seat at the table. She watched him dig into the scrambled eggs first and then tackle the bacon and potatoes. It would be their last meal together before he left. She had gone all out, as was standard or as he liked to say, SOP. SOP was an acronym for Standard Operating Procedure, and it was one of the many military euphemisms he often recruited into their life at home.
He’s so cute, she mused. She wondered how offended he would be if she told him so. Instead, she decided to keep her thoughts to herself.
She made a plate for their son, Michael, as the sleepy toddler made his way into the kitchen. He was eating well for his age, but she still forewent the bacon. Instead, she chopped up a sausage patty that she had made just for him.
“We need to hurry up and eat, sweetie,” she told him, as he climbed into his chair. “We have to take Daddy to the base today.”
The two males looked at each other across the table. It was as if they were speaking in some sort of male language that even her young son understood, though Angie believed she never would. They knew it was a bad day, a sad day; but, they both seemed to understand it was just simply something they would deal with. Neither of them would let the other know they were sad. No, Angie thought, I’ll never understand that at all.
CHAPTER TWO
Sarah Donavan barely stirred, as the telephone rang incessantly behind her. Her feet on the coffee table, she had sunk deep enough into the couch that it came close to resembling an awkward lying position, close enough anyway. She knew who it was, and at this point, there really was no reason to answer it anyway. As best she could figure, it was already past 10:00 a.m. and that made her an hour and a half late for work already. She was fairly certain they weren’t calling to see if she was ok. No, most likely, they were calling to tell her she could clean out her desk.
She hadn’t really intended to quit. She just wasn’t going today. The chips could pretty much fall wherever they wanted to fall. In her mind, she was no longer employed as a secretary; so, it made little sense to answer the phone on her impromptu day off. Let the fucker ring, she thought.
She glanced at the end table beside her, thinking it was just close enough she might be able to reach it without moving too much, but she hesitated for a brief moment, realizing it might not be the best idea. After all, she was pretty much unemployed. Eventually, she would have to find another job. While the box on the end table sounded like a good idea, she also knew she was more than likely going to be facing a pre-employment drug screen soon, assuming she could find another job soon.
The phone stopped ringing, causing her to slightly glance over her shoulder. It wasn’t enough to actually see the phone, but it was more of a gesture of mild interest. A fleeting thought that she might actually still have a job teased her. If she got up now, called them with a perfect excuse, then just maybe. But it was gone as quickly as it had come. She truly didn’t want the damn job. Sarah glanced at the box again. Hell, it has only been a couple of days since she had partaken. One more time really wouldn’t matter all that much, she convinced herself.
Sarah reached for the box, rolling onto her side in order to grab it. Then, with it in her hand, she continued the
roll onto the floor between the couch and the coffee table. She opened the box, thinking there was probably only one joint left, but she was surprised to find two, already rolled and ready to go.
“Well, that settles it then,” she said, as the idea of making the call that might save her job at the law firm left for good. “The gods have spoken.”
The joint to lips, the lighter to joint, the world to hell. It’s going to be a good day after all, thought Sarah, as she took her first hit.
CHAPTER THREE
Derrick reached the railing of the ship and turned back toward the dock. He waved to his wife, as she held their son. He swelled with a combined sense of sadness and content joy as they both waved back.
Another six months, but by the time he returned their little family would have grown by one. It would be harder than most trips, except for the one after he took after he and Angie had married. He would do as he always did; he would lose himself in his work and that would make the time go by faster. He’d be home before he knew it. This time, he would have three people waiting for him. He waved once more and headed into the ship.
He found his way through the maze of hatches and stairwells to the sleeping quarters with no trouble. The USS Ronald Reagan was his home away from home, since the decommissioning of the first ship he had served on, the USS Kitty Hawk, in 2009. The Reagan was a bit larger and able to accommodate more planes than the Kitty Hawk, but the overall layout underneath the deck was pretty similar. The adjustment had been almost nonexistent, with some it actually being welcomed.
He had always teased Angie that the Navy’s cooking was better than hers, but she knew it was just a joke. At least it was a joke on the Kitty Hawk. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her it was damn near true, now that he was on the Reagan or The Gipper. The sailors gave the ship its nickname in reference to the Knute Rockne role the former president played before his time in Washington.
He had about an hour before they would all muster on the deck before pulling out. He knew he would not be able to see Angie and Michael then. They would be lost in the crowd, but she said she could pick him out every time. He doubted it, considering the sheer volume of uniformed sailors on board; but, if it made her feel better to believe she could, then he saw no need to tell her any different.
He pulled his belongings out of the bag and started putting them away, glancing at the books she sent this time. The first one, a monolithic offering by Stephen King was called Under the Dome. He didn’t have to check, he was pretty sure the damn thing had to be nearly 2,000 pages long. Yeah, that not happening, he thought. He figured he’d take a quick look on the internet when he got the chance and get a semi-working knowledge about what the King book was about, just in case she ever asked if he read it.
The second book was much smaller. He thought he might give it a shot, if he got too bored. He had never heard of the book’s author, but he had no doubt it belonged in the middle of several others by the same name on their bookshelf back home.
By the time he had squared his gear away and gotten to the flight deck, he was almost late. He barely slipped into his place in the formation before they were called to attention. Eyes front, as directed, he did his best to peer around the shoulder of the man in front of him, Seaman First Class Theodore Pierson, who was also called Ted; but, it was of little use. He couldn’t see much of the crowd at all, much less make out Angie amongst it. He hadn’t been too hopeful, given the experience of countless attempts in the past. Still, he thought that it would have been nice.
He made his way back below and prepared himself for the next several days. He knew that his time would be filled with the slow, boring task of waiting. His particular duties aboard the Reagan were not essential to everyday life aboard the ship, coming more into play when they made it out of friendly waters. He had maintenance stuff to do, but it was pretty hard to stretch ten minutes into four days, no matter how hard he tried. So, he put a couple manuals on the desk in front of him, giving at least some semblance of naval importance and went about the task of doing nothing of actual importance. He flipped open his laptop and typed in Under the Dome. Might as well get started, he figured.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sarah Donavan was no longer concerned with anything which might be perceived as bad news through the telephone line. She had just finished the second of her last two joints and was playing Call of Duty on her PlayStation, drifting through waves of enemy combatants nonchalantly, as Don McLean’s American Pie thundered in the background.
A grenade blew up near her player, causing her to pause the game. In that instant, the phone started ringing, yet again summoning of her attention. “Fuck it. Might as well get this over with so the ass-hats will stop calling me. I have shit to do today,” she said aloud, as she headed to the phone.
“What! What do you want?” she bellowed into the telephone, her own voice intentionally loud.
“Chill, Bitch!” her sister immediately replied, as her unmistakable voice cackled with delight at her outburst.
“Angie!” she squealed. Her annoyance that someone dared to disturb her day instantly vanished. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
From the other end of the line, she heard Angie laugh. “No shit? You mean you meant to scream at someone else?”
“Well, of course. I would have been laughing too hard if I was yelling at you.”
“What are you up to today?”
“Hell, don’t ask.”
“Smoking that shit?”
“Well, of course.”
Angie always talked shit about it, but she didn’t judge in reality. Still, she would definitely talk shit, it was a given.
“Good. Then, I caught you at a good time.”
“Why do I think this is not a good thing?”
They both laughed. Sarah knew that the rest of the conversation was going to be about something important, something she should sit down for. She listened as her sister went on about the baby and about Derrick’s absence while he was on the ship. She could feel a sense of dread in her sister’s voice. Derrick had managed to be with her when Michael was born, and Sarah had wanted to be, as well. Unfortunately, things just hadn’t worked out that way, something had come up.
“So, what do you think? Is it something you might be able to do?”
She hadn’t told Angie she was in the process at that very moment of losing another job. While a part of her wanted to be a bit upset at Angie for assuming that she didn’t have a life, the truth was she didn’t.
Spending a couple months in California and hanging out with Angie and her son actually sounded good, Sarah thought. She decided to play it cool and said, “Probably. Can I think about it a few days and get back to you?”
“Hell no. Now stop thinking and get your ass on a plane.”
Sarah started to protest, but any protest was pretty much worthless. Still, she felt a need to at least make it look like she had some sort of life. She knew she’d go. Fuck this place. It will be great to see Angie and just hang out and relax, she thought. Once again, she tried to play it cool with her sister, “Now, you know damn well I always think everything out extensively before I make a decision. Admit it.”
“Ok, I admit it. Now get your ass out here.”
Sarah couldn’t help but laugh at that. Her sister knew her well, too well at times. It felt good, too.
Of course, I’m going, I can’t wait, she thought. “God, I love you, Sis.”
“I love you, too, of course. So when you coming?”
“Probably in about ten minutes, while I’m in the shower. But after that, I’ll be heading your way.”
“Eewww!”
“Yeah, like you’re not joy-gasming right now.”
“See you tonight?”
“Probably sometime in the morning.”
“Thanks, babe. I really appreciate this.”
“Not a problem. See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Skype wasn’t working right, s
o Derrick contented himself to talk with Angie through instant messenger. She was beside herself, talking about her sister coming out to stay with her until after the baby was born. While his first thought was to ask if she’d be gone before he got home, he couldn’t help but be happy along with her. She didn’t get to see her sister much, and hell, he wasn’t going to be able to be there, so it was good that Sarah would. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder just how good a thing it really would be.
While they almost looked like twins to some degree, Angie and Sarah were almost complete polar opposites. Angie was the hard-line, straight-arrow type. She took responsibility, made priorities, and did whatever she could to stay organized. Sarah was completely different. She seemed to have no regard for any form of structured life. She’d be pretty damn near a hippie, if there were still hippies around. All he could think was that he had better not get home to see his new daughter in tie-died diapers.