A SEAL at Heart

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A SEAL at Heart Page 9

by Anne Elizabeth


  “When I was six years old, my father woke me up at five in the morning. He wanted me to sit with my mother so he could run to work. He said he would only be an hour. I remember hearing the door close and the lock slip into place. I got out of my bed, bringing my favorite blue blanket with me. It had soft stuff on the edges. My mother made it for me for my third birthday…”

  Jack took a deep breath and continued the story. “The air was cold. My feet were covered in footie pajamas that made a slapping noise on the wood floor as I walked. I always thought the noise sounded neat, so I would run hard, trying to make it as loud as possible.

  “My parents’ room was at the end of the hall, which seemed very far away this morning. Mom had been sick for most of my life, but lately she was worse. She hadn’t gotten out of bed for a long, long time.

  “When I walked in the room that morning, the smell was funny—sour. I crawled up on the bed and sat watching my breath cloud in the cold morning air.

  “But I didn’t want to crawl under the covers. The smell was just… wrong.

  “I asked my mom if she was okay.

  “Jackie, she called me. ‘Call 911, Jackie.’ We had one of those old rotary phones. I don’t remember much of what I said, only that I insisted Mommy was very sick. The operator wouldn’t let me hang up the phone, so I laid the receiver next to Mom’s head and pressed the other side next to my ear.

  “It must have taken a lot out of her… to push the phone away…

  “She looked me in the eye and whispered, ‘I love you, John Matthew Roaker. Remember that, my Jackie. Do something important with your life. I want you to know you were the most important thing I ever did.’

  “My mother died after those words. I remember the room was so cold, empty, and without her there, I was so alone. When the ambulance arrived, I was still sitting next to her body. I told them she wasn’t inside. They were too late.”

  ***

  Tears streamed down Laurie’s face. Her stomach was twisted with the pain in his voice.

  He held her, and together they wept for that small child. When the tears passed, she asked, “Was this a vivid memory or a dream, Jack?”

  She heard him swallow. Reaching over, she grabbed the beer sitting on the nightstand and handed it to him. He drained the bottle. “Thanks.” Sitting up, he resettled her in his arms. “It was a memory, one I had buried deep. I hadn’t tapped into those events since I was little. Too painful.”

  Laurie sat up, excitement racing through her veins. “You know what this means?”

  “My childhood sucked?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at her.

  “No. I mean, yes, your childhood was hard and you’re remembering things. Jack, your brain is going through the motions. It’s healing.” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. “Do you get it?”

  “Yeah. You’re pretty strong for a girl,” he teased.

  “I’m pretty strong for a guy,” she replied. “I pound on people all day long. It’s better by far than a gym.” She wiggled closer to him, shaking the bed. A basket hooked on the other side of the headboard fell off, spilling its contents.

  “Is that knitting? Do you work the needles? Man, I haven’t seen someone do that in ages.” He laughed.

  “Stop laughing, and maybe I’ll knit you a bag for your bullets.” She leaped off the bed and gathered the contents back into the basket. Placing it on a stack of romance novels by the foot of her bed, she sat down beside him. “Gich taught me.” Her eyebrows lifted. “It’s one of the few domestic things about me. I find it relaxing.”

  His surprise was clear. “Gich? No kidding? I’m going to have to ask him about that.”

  “I wouldn’t poke that grizzly. He might bite you.” She kissed him and then gave him a little push in the direction she wanted him to go. “Come on, Jack, go back to the topic we were talking about.”

  He rubbed his nose, but finally acquiesced. “What makes you think I changed it?”

  She grabbed his hand and hauled him out of the bed, guiding him out of the small apartment and onto the patio. “Because you’re slippery. Evasion is one of the first thing SEALs are taught. You’ll find it’s hard to bullshit me.”

  “Did you ever think, maybe, that’s why I like you?”

  The words were a nice little shock. She smiled to herself, and then whirled around. Her eyes held his. “Thanks.”

  Pushing up onto her tiptoes, she tenderly laid her lips on his. The kiss was sweet, a caress that held passion and hunger behind it. But there were things she needed to say before she allowed herself to be swept away.

  Stepping back, she took him to a double lounger. They sat down on the giant cushion. She was grateful he sat silently, because when she finally looked up, her eyes were moist again. “Jack, I’d like to say I’m sorry to learn about the circumstances of your mother’s death. I never knew mine. Sometimes it hits me with an emptiness I cannot fill. I somehow take on the aspects of this missing piece of me and try to mother the world.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “Can I ask what it was like… to have a mom?”

  She hoped he could hear the earnestness in her voice, triggering the private part of him to unfold further. The need to know, to understand, was burning in her.

  He nodded. “I remember a feeling of comfort and safety, initially. Things changed, though, from her caring for me to my father and I caring for her.” Jack shook his head. “I guess I learned more of this information later in life. When I was younger, I didn’t understand her pain or the issue. My mother had cancer. My father worked those long hours to help pay for her medication and treatments. None of the medical procedures worked, so she just had to endure the pain until she died.”

  His voice sounded strained, as if he spoke through a mountain of pain. “At the time, I was a child and had only that perspective. I couldn’t understand why my father wasn’t there or why my mother found it painful to hold me. I was devastated when she died. I was angry at everyone and everything that crossed my path.” He coughed and then she watched him breathe slowly, drawing in the fresh ocean air. “My father died six months after my mother, from a stroke. He was only forty-one. I never got to know him. So much of that year is this red haze of uncertainty.”

  He took her hand in his. “That is… until my grandfather brought me home. He taught me normal things that parents teach kids—coping skills, honor, courage, values to be proud of, and the ability to have faith in myself and achieve. After I finished high school, he passed, too.” Crap! That fucking hurt, talking about Granddad! “I have cousins on my mom’s side. We’ve never been close.”

  “What was your grandfather like?”

  “Old, crotchety, funny, fair, and kind. Every day, I learned more about him and grew to respect him even more. It was a rocky beginning, but I grew to understand him.” He rubbed his eyes. “He was a Navy veteran. I miss him. Damn, I haven’t thought about him for ages.

  “I’m done.” He squeezed her. “Your turn in the hot seat. What about you? Tell me more about your life.”

  The words tumbled quickly from her mouth, as if she had said them a million times before. “My mother died giving birth to me. Neither of my folks had any living relatives, so I was passed around from Team house to Team house when my dad was deployed. For the longest time, I believed I was related to everyone. In a way, I was and still am.”

  “There’s more there. Spill it.”

  She sighed. “I learned to keep my emotions to myself. To take care and share my basic needs, like food, clothing, et cetera, but to hide what bothered me and deal with it on my own terms. No one wants a child with problems. If I was happy, then I could hide behind the smile and let my mask speak for me.”

  “Laurie, you know you can share with me, right?” He was so supportive. His voice with those honeyed tones eased through her defenses.

  She shrugged. None of what he had said meant that she would tell him right now. Though it was precious he had been so forthcoming and open. Never in her
life had she spoken her secret aloud; in many ways, she knew she must actually trust him.

  “Okay, enough grilling. Tell me something funny.”

  A smile grew slowly on her lips—that, she could do. “Did you know Gich gave me my first beer? I was four years old. He said, ‘If Laurie can open it, she can drink it.’ So, I did. It astonished everyone, and then after five gulps, I threw up on him. He’s never let me forget it, either.”

  “Four! That’s crazy young.”

  “Yeah,” she smiled. “He made a lot of mistakes with me, but I had him and he had me. Having someone is all that matters, you know?”

  “I never really thought of it that way. I suppose it could be true.”

  She pinched him.

  “Ouch!”

  “Just like a SEAL to be noncommittal. You’ve lost me now! I’m going for a swim.” She was up in a flash, peeling her clothes off. “There are advantages to living on the water. Skinny-dipping in the dark.”

  “You’re not going anywhere without me,” he replied, leaping off the lounger and chasing her to the edge of the patio.

  “God, I love this place.”

  She assumed that Jack meant the best part of the whole building was her inviting garden. Filled with orange and lemon trees, roses, and other beautiful flowers, this was a place tended with a great amount of loving attention. Laurie had tried to stay in tune with the needs of the foliage, but it didn’t look like she had much of a green thumb. A few weeds that looked pretty were sneaking through and choking some of the plants. She’d have to deal with that at some point.

  “It’s really great out here. Did you do all of this?” he asked as she perched on the short wall, preparing to slip over to the other side and into the ocean.

  “No. The former owners planted everything. I do the best I can to keep it maintained, though Gich comes by now and then. He truly has a green thumb.” She stretched, letting the moonlight bathe her bare skin.

  “This is terrific.”

  “Yeah, I really lucked out when this place opened up. John Hatchett used to own this place. His wife had a small craft store up front. When she died, he wanted to buy an RV and travel the country. Gich told me about it, and we made a deal on the spot.” She waved her arms around in a circle. “I’m sure I got the better deal.”

  “What happened to Hatchett?”

  “According to Gich, Hatchett bought the camper, drove to Virginia, where his wife was born, and scattered the ashes in a field of daisies where she’d played as a child. Then he settled in a rental only a few miles from the spot. He passed within six months of her. I heard his neighbors sprinkled him in the same place. He must have loved her very much,” she said wistfully. Did all women want to find a man who would love them that much? Would he be able to do it? Would the idea make him uncomfortable?

  “I’m sure he was just as happy with the deal.” Slowly, he walked toward her. “The community is good that way. I’ve seen it. We take care of our own.”

  She watched his movements; he seemed ready to play. She still wanted to talk, because there was a lot she wanted to know. “Yeah. Speaking of which, I never hear you talk about your Teammates… what’s up with that? I remember my dad and Gich talking almost nonstop about their Team, especially when Ops went sideways.” Her blunt comment stopped him in his tracks. She studied his face, the angles looking somehow more shallow and sharp.

  “Things aren’t that easy right now. When it first happened, when I took some shrapnel to the head, I spent most of my time in ICU. I tried to go see a couple of the guys, but they were bounced around to different places. Couple of them won’t answer my texts, but I’ve heard from one or two. Nothing major. Just stuff like ‘Hey, you’re alive!’ and shit like that.” He shrugged. “The guys know I want to touch base. They’ll connect when it works. In the meantime, everyone’s walking around on eggshells with me. The doctors chat the tough-love line—be in therapy or you won’t go operational again. That group crap doesn’t work for me. I’m not great at opening up to strangers.”

  “Am I a stranger?” Laurie looked from beneath her lashes, intentionally flirting with him, attempting to ease the tough topic.

  “Not unless you let all your patients chat from between the sheets.” The corners of his mouth turned up and slowly, lazily, pulled into a smile. His pupils were large and dark. In the moonlight he was such a handsome rogue. She knew his teasing was a sign of respect and adoration; it was how SEALs communicated. She could handle him and actually liked the banter, too. “I’m going in,” he announced.

  “Don’t get lost. I can lend you some floaties, if you’d like them for your arms. Or maybe you’d like a life vest.” She watched him turn away, hop over the short wall, and run into the water, changing into a dive at the last moment.

  As he emerged on the surface, he shouted, “Wiseass!”

  “Ready or not, here I come,” she yelled with a laugh. Then she jumped the two-foot wall and felt the sand squish between her toes as she hurried down the tiny wedge of beach. When she reached the water’s edge, her steps slowed as she made her way forward into the gentle waves.

  The water was warm from the heat of the sun. Walking into the ocean always stripped away her concerns and worries, as if there was only room for the sensation, and she relished those first baptizing steps.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every movement. She didn’t care. She was in no hurry, now that the waves were lapping her skin.

  Too soon, only her head was above the surface. Her body relaxed in stages as the salt water enveloped her, a familiarity that eased her even as it surrounded her in buoyant bliss. The ocean definitely held a healing magic.

  Pushing off from the sandy bottom, she swam. She spread her arms wide and drew the water under her until her flawless breaststroke had her moving quickly and silently. Her eyes sought his—Jack, her macho tough guy—and he was coming toward her, joining her in the darker recesses.

  He caught her to him. His arms wrapped tightly around her, drawing her body against his. Their wet bodies slid along each other. He kissed her, dragging her farther into the depths of the ocean, away from land.

  “Let’s explore,” he murmured in her ear.

  Kissing his ear, she replied, “Yes.”

  His hands held her close as he rolled onto his back. She balanced on top of him now, like a queen riding a dolphin. Still, he swam, keeping her perfectly balanced.

  She ran her fingers down his chest and watched him shiver.

  His eyes were almost black in the darkness, but she could see the glint of mischief.

  Spying the bank on the far shore, she knew he was going to a small alcove where they could make love. It was perfect.

  Jack was a puzzle, one she enjoyed. But how prepared was she to accompany him into the unknown? More willing than she realized…

  Chapter 7

  All right, they’re on our left, they’re on our right, they’re in front of us, they’re behind us… they can’t get away this time.

  —Lewis B. “Chesty” Puller

  Jack woke with a start. Standing next to the courtyard door, he had both hands on the door frame and his body was covered in sweat. His muscles were tense and his body was ready to fight or flee.

  “Jack, can you hear me?” Laurie’s voice came to him from afar as if she were shouting down a tunnel. The tone, with its beckoning sweetness, lured him.

  Mentally, he drew himself toward her, bringing himself closer and closer until her voice was clear. Turning to her, he sucked in a deep breath and tried to get it together.

  He shook himself. His eyes were wide and it took a few seconds for the images in his head to reconcile with the reality around him. Lowering his arms, he turned and looked at her.

  Patient. Quiet. And with a look of concern that filled her eyes.

  He walked over to the bed and pulled her into his arms. He couldn’t find his voice, not yet. The visuals were bombarding him, and he couldn’t make
sense of it all yet.

  “I’m here,” she whispered, wrapping her arms tighter.

  He nodded. Stroking her hair, he held her for a time.

  Then he looked over her shoulder at his hands. The place he had to see. Relief eased through him. His fingers were clean. In his mind—in those raw images—he had seen them covered in blood. His best friend’s blood.

  “Hey, answer me, Jack. Are you with me?” She prodded him.

  “Yes.” The word felt strange—alien—as if it were something entirely separate from him. Dammit, he needed to snap out of it! “Just give me a minute. Okay?”

  “Sure.” Nodding her head against his chest, she quieted down.

  What had happened? It must have freaked her out, too. He didn’t have any reasonable explanation… other than that he was sleepwalking. Going where, he didn’t know.

  Pushing her back, he held her by the shoulders. Her skin was pale. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Why are you so shaken up? I know why I am.” He didn’t want anyone else lying to him, and he always felt like the doctors were skirting the truth about his situation, reluctant to share the actual issue or stakes in play. “Give it to me straight.”

  “Have I ever given you reason to distrust me?” She looked earnest as she spoke.

  “No.” His hands dropped away from her. “You’re forthright with me. Stay on that track.”

  She nodded her head and then reached for a mini audio recorder on the bedside table. “I reset this last night, before we went to bed.”

  “Should have some racy stuff on it, then.” He grinned, knowing it was a sad effort to ease the tension. Grabbing his pants, he pulled them on.

  Maybe he should just leave. Where the hell were his socks and shoes?

  “Jack, please, let’s sit down. I’ll make coffee and we can listen to it.”

  The recording from last night might hold the key he was looking for—but was he ready to unlock those memories?

  Laurie placed the recorder on the table and went about the process of making coffee. His eyes kept straying to the small silver digital recorder. He wanted to listen to it now, and get it over with, but made himself wait. Coffee would ground him, wake him up, and give him something to steady his nerves. Christ, I hate feeling this way!

 

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