Forget Me Not (Love in the Fleet)

by Ashby, Heather

  Aviation Anti-Submarine Warfare Operator First Class Billy Quinn clicked in from the cabin. “Aircrewman Takeoff Checklist complete. And I promise to scream like a teenage girl if you even come close to smacking a light pole, sir.”

  “Oooh, you know I love it when you do that, Quinn.” Sky snickered into his mic. “Takeoff Checklist complete. Gauges and cautions good. Ready for takeoff, Studs?”

  Mike glanced out his door window. “Clear right.”

  Sky responded, “Clear left.”

  “All clear in the back,” Quinn added.

  “Pulling power.” Mike pulled in on the collective and pushed the nose over.

  “Pull back on the nose, Mikey. We need to get Little Girl vertical before you nose her over. I thought you said you knew how to handle women.” Sky grinned at Mike, but the acting pilot was too focused on executing the climb-out maneuver to appreciate his humor. “Eighty feet. There you go, Studley. Now shove her over and keep us climbing while we get the hell out of Dodge. Three positive rates of climb, safe single engine speed, stabilator programming. Level off at five hundred feet. How are things in the back, Quinn?”

  “Aircrewman After Takeoff Checklist complete, sir. Hey, let’s run up the beach on the way back. See if that pro volleyball tournament is still going on. I heard the eye candy is particularly fine.”

  Mike whistled low into his mic. “Speaking of eye candy, Dr. Daisy is something else, Sky. Beautiful, professional, and nice. Got any more like her at home?”

  “Nope. She’s one in a million.”

  The aircrewman interrupted through their headsets. “Do I get a vote?”

  “Not unless it’s good, Quinn,” Sky called back.

  “Are you kidding? That lady is awesome. Definitely 4.0. Actually, I think she might be too good for you, sir. Better let me take her off your hands.”

  “In your dreams, bucko.”

  “I guess things are going really good with her, huh?” Mikey asked as he headed them east toward the beach.

  “Yeah.” Sky’s face blossomed. “Things are really good.”

  “About time. I can’t believe it took you this long to work your way into her bed.

  “That is none of your business.” Sky was a little sharper than he’d intended.

  “Hey, back off, lover boy. It was always my business before. You’ve only been too happy to share all the juicy details about every other woman.”

  The uncontrollable grin of a man in love spread across Sky’s face as Mike tilted the cyclic and the aircraft banked to follow the beach north, back toward the base. “Not this time, Studley.”

  “Wow. Sky’s in love. Oh, man. I never thought I would see this day. ‘See you at home, honey,’” Mikey imitated Sky in a singsong voice. “Wait ’til I tell the other Highwaymen. Skylark has met The One.”

  “Zip it, Mikey.”

  Mike made a point of sealing his lips, then proceeded to hum the “Wedding March” into his mic.

  “Bite me,” Sky replied, but laughed nonetheless.

  As they followed the shoreline, Sky succumbed to the exhaustion at the end of the day. And then reality hit him. He realized how low he’d sunk. He’d just stretched the truth to Daisy, telling her he’d have to stay and finish paperwork for the fly-in, when in reality he planned to finish the paperwork, then catch forty winks in the Squadron Duty Officer’s bunkroom.

  Besides attempting to sleep while fully aroused every night with Daisy, he slept with one eye open as well, so afraid of the dreams. What if he flipped out on her? Not only would he be embarrassed, but worse. She’d drop him like a hot potato if she thought he had issues. He kept reminding himself that Jack’s issues were major compared to his. To stop having sex with Daisy? Guy had to be nuts.

  No, Sky would keep his alarm cat close by and maybe he’d go talk to somebody about the dreams. Yeah, he’d definitely think about doing that.

  Maybe when he returned from looking for drug runners after Thanksgiving. Maybe in the New Year.

  In the meantime, he’d continue to crash in the bunkroom at lunchtime and for an hour after work every day. Combat naps. And, he couldn’t believe he was saying this, but he treasured his duty nights when he had to stay all night at squadron headquarters and was in the rack by 1800 hours if there weren’t any night ops. He had to catch up because he’d never put his crew at risk by being over tired. Hell, a sleep-deprived pilot was as dangerous as a drunk one. Duty nights gave him a chance to catch up. So far the watchstander had only intervened once when Sky had a bad dream. He better watch it though. Somebody might report him.

  And quite honestly? He liked duty nights because he couldn’t sleep with Daisy. He’d planned to hold out for a month before he’d feel comfortable having sex with her. But he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was losing his mind.

  The mornings had been difficult, too, especially when his hands went rogue in his sleep. He had awakened a few more times to find himself wrapped around her, his hand full of one of her luscious breasts. He’d apologize and turn away. He almost lost it at one point when she shifted in her sleep, causing her bedtime boxers to slip down. He saw the twin dimples in the small of her back. Oh, how he’d wanted to see if his thumbs fit. Oh, how he’d wanted to see if a lot of things fit, but he’d made himself roll to his other side and cuddle Daisy Mae to his chest instead.

  Damn, he was tired of doing the honorable thing. It was getting harder and harder. And wasn’t that a fact.

  So he’d catch a combat nap as soon as they landed. And then home to another romantic dinner with Daisy. He liked the warm and fuzzy sound of home. They’d started cooking real meals most nights and they ate in her grown-up dining room by candlelight. On real plates. That matched. With good wine. It was incredibly civilized, and he realized he could get used to this. Man, if this was what a relationship was like, he wished he’d tried one sooner.

  Naw, Daisy was the magic factor.

  And once they made love it would be even better. He figured a couple of weeks without sex would have to be enough of a penance to Jack for sleeping with his widow. Sleeping? Well, for having sex with her. He wasn’t so sure about the sleeping part. Yeah, a quick nap, then he’d head home for dinner, he thought as they circled the airfield, waiting for clearance to land.

  He just hoped he didn’t fall asleep in his soup.

  Chapter 19

  “That was pretty amazing that the Master of Ceremonies was blind. Bet they didn’t have any blind Marines in your day, did they, George?”

  “I think it’s outstanding the government has seen fit to retain so many of our wounded warriors in the service. I mean, they still have valuable skills to share with the Corps, the fleet, whatever. Thank you so much for taking me to this program today. I thoroughly enjoyed it, son, despite not actually seeing it.”

  “Yeah, well, the sound effects were pretty freaking cool. How about when he called out, ‘Fix bayonets!’ and they all clicked in at the exact same moment?” Sky said.

  “I think it was even cooler for me,” George replied from the passenger seat of Sky’s truck, “because I had to picture what they were doing. And then when they all clicked? Oh, my God. It was clearly one distinct sound. Not a single one of those Marines was off on that one.”

  “And how about when they went down the line, clicking their heels one second off of each other? Man, that rocked,” Sky added. Listening rocked a lot more than Sky seeing the Marines at the Veteran’s Day show and picturing Captain Jack Tucker in his dress uniform. Every single one of those Marines reminded him that Daisy had once been married to the Corps. What had she said? Ol’ Semper Fi, that’s me. And then a fresh wave of anger filled him as he remembered what a number Ol’ Jack, The Marine, had done on her.

  George broke into his thoughts as they drove back to Portside Manor. “You know, it’s funny. I ne
ver imagined enjoying a silent drill team performance without being able to see it. But I think maybe I got as much out of it as you did. When you can see what’s going on, you don’t hear things as distinctly. And oh, my gosh, they were precise with every execution.”

  “Hey, and what about that deaf interpreter? Too bad they didn’t have a blind interpreter too.” Sky laughed.

  “Well, I appreciate you doing your best to report what was going on. I truly enjoyed the outing. It was kind of you to spend the afternoon taking me to the performance. Thanks for taking an old veteran out for Veteran’s Day.”

  “Aw, no problem. I’m a sucker for martial music. Always get a little weepy when military bands are playing. Probably weeping for my lost wild college days. You know, passing up all those fraternity parties for a chance to march in formation on the parade field at the Naval Academy.”

  “Oh, I was in a terrific fraternity at Annapolis.” George looked perfectly serious.

  “What? At the Academy? They had fraternities when you were there?”

  “Yeah. I belonged to ‘Row, Dammit, Row!”

  Sky howled with laughter at George’s joke and the two old salts—one old, one young—continued to debrief on the ceremonies all the way home.

  “Hey, George. You in any hurry to get back to Portside? I thought you might want to take a little side trip down Memory Lane. You up for it?”

  “Is it more exciting than Assisted Living happy hour?” They both laughed over that one.

  “Yeah, and I’ll even make up for it and buy you a drink afterward.” Sky fished out his I.D. card to pass through the main gate of Naval Station Mayport. “How does a hot date with a Romeo sound?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  Sky parked the truck and escorted George through the squadron building to the hangar where Little Girl had been tucked into bed the night before.

  George took Sky’s arm and sniffed the air. “Ah, even smells like squadron headquarters.”

  Sky placed George’s hands on his helicopter. “I may be in love with Daisy Schneider, but this is the love of my life. Meet my Little Girl. And you’re free to feel her up all you like.”

  George laughed at Sky’s humor, but as he worked his way down the side of the helicopter, he sobered. He went completely silent as he moved his feet sideways, inches at a time, while his hands slid along the hull. He tipped his face to the hangar overhead, eyes blinking, pursing his lips a few times, nose twitching. Sky couldn’t tell if he was fighting back tears or simply searching his memory bank.

  His hands worked up and down as he circled the helo, stroking it reverently. Sky had the good sense to remain quiet, except to warn George off before bumping his head. When he came to the open cabin door, he paused. Stuck his head in and sniffed deeply.

  “Some things never change, son. She still smells the same.”

  “Here,” Sky said as he opened the cockpit door and placed George’s hands on the holds to lift himself in. “Come on, I’ll give you a boost.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “Come on. It’ll be cool. You know you miss the feel of the cyclic in your hands.” He bent to place George’s foot on the step, but George had already found it instinctively. Sky guided him in, then walked around to the co-pilot’s seat and climbed aboard.

  George reached for the cyclic and that’s when Sky noticed his shaking hands. He’d never seen George like this before. Had he not noticed or was something wrong here?

  “Are you okay, sir?” This was supposed to be a fun surprise. He hadn’t wanted to upset the old guy. He watched George release the stick and cover his face with his hands. When he slid them down and sighed heavily, Sky could see the tears running down his cheeks.

  Jesus Christ. “Sir? Captain Duncan? George? You okay?”

  George nodded his head affirmatively, eyes still closed, leaking tears he made no attempt to wipe away.

  “Is this about Joe, sir?”

  He nodded his head up and down one more time. “Roger that,” he said.

  Sky swallowed hard, not trusting his voice. “You wanna talk about it?” He didn’t push. Just waited. Silent for a change. His heart pounded at the thought of Captain Duncan sitting in his helo crying, and yet maybe this was all happening for a reason. Maybe George needed to talk about it.

  And maybe Sky needed to listen.

  “He was young. Too young. Fresh out of flight school. Only twenty-four. He’d married right out of the Academy, like most of us in those days. Well, I wasn’t married yet, but that’s another story. It was 1962. November 16th. I’ll never forget the day. Ever. We were setting the helo down nice and easy on the deck of the Kitty Hawk. Everything was textbook. And then all hell broke loose.”

  Sky’s heart slammed in his chest as a vision of his and Daniel’s helicopter slammed the surface of the Pacific. He willed his pulse to slow and the vision to disappear, focusing every iota of his attention on George Duncan. Pushing away the urge to bail out of this helicopter and get the hell out of Dodge. What the hell had he been thinking to bring George here?

  George turned to him, his blind eyes full of pain and something else. Bewilderment? “We hit hard. Harder than we should have. And then an explosion ripped up through the deck of the cockpit. I was taken completely by surprise. My flight suit caught fire. I still have the scars to prove it.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled them back, exposing the scars up his forearms. Sky winced. “Thank God for my gloves. If I’d lost the use of my hands, I would have been washed up in this man’s Navy.”

  Sky took a deep breath against the panic and exhaled slowly, attempting to regulate his breathing. “You were lucky, sir.” Fuck that. None of them had been lucky. Leastways not Joe and Daniel.

  “I knew the fire was burning me, but I couldn’t leave Joe. He was unconscious so he couldn’t unbuckle his harness. I tried to open it, even though I knew I’d probably die trying. He had a wife and a baby. I couldn’t let him die. But the crew on the flight deck had other ideas. They pulled me to safety, even though I screamed for them to let me back in to save him. But by the time they’d cut him from his harness, he was already dead.”

  George buried his face in his hands again and wept. Sky thought he’d burst out of his own skin, between worrying about upsetting George and his own rising anxiety that was making it difficult to breathe. He pushed open the door, and tried to suck in as much air as possible, but the stale air in the hangar didn’t help. Part of him wanted to comfort George, but he knew most guys wanted to be left the hell alone at a time like this. Fuck. Why had he brought him here?

  “I’ve never forgiven myself,” George said. “I was the HAC. It was my responsibility to ensure his safety. I should have been able to save him.”

  Sky cleared his throat and willed his heart rate to slow down. “Can I ask you a question, sir?” George turned to him, but didn’t reply. “What was the ruling? I assume there was a full investigation.”

  “It was ruled a malfunction in the landing gear, but I should’ve been able to override it. I was in charge. I should have died. Not Joe.”

  “But it wasn’t your fault, sir.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It was my responsibility.”

  Sky clenched his jaw. His heart ached for George. Surely there was nothing George could have done. Suddenly words poured out of Sky’s mouth and he had no idea where they came from. “Do you ever wonder why you survived? I mean, you both could have died that day. Do you think you were left behind to feel guilty?”

  “I didn’t deserve to live. He did.”

  “Sir, can I ask you something very personal? You don’t have to answer.”

  George wiped tears away and cleared his throat. “What?”

  Sky’s heart pounded as he spoke barely above a whisper. “Does he haunt you?”

  George jerked his
head toward Sky. “How did you know?”

  Sky’s chest tightened. He scrubbed his hand through his crew cut, brushing it back and forth. “He comes to you in your dreams, doesn’t he?”

  George’s eyes narrowed. Then he turned away, as if looking through the windshield.

  “Yes,” George replied quietly. “And it’s not just him. His wife, Sarah, and his son are there too.” He paused to collect himself. “Joe Jr. was a baby.”

  Sky’s heart rate tripled. He leaned his head back against the seat and took a deep breath through his nose. Exhaled through is mouth. Then he turned and looked back at Captain Duncan. “Does his wife sometimes carry the baby in her arms? In the dreams?”

  George’s mouth dropped open. “How in the hell did you know that?”

  Sky wondered if his heart might give out, it was dumping so much adrenaline into his system. “I…um…” He turned away and looked out his side window, forcing himself to inhale calmly before turning back. “I had a similar experience. Not a flight deck. Water egress. And I…um…kind of…lost my pilot too. And I always wondered if I could have done more. You know, to save him.” There. He’d said it. He’d voiced it to another human being. And he was still breathing. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?

  George reached out and instinctively knew where Sky’s arm would be in the pilot’s seat. He squeezed it once, then let it go. “I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry you lost him.”

  Sky reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, every muscle throbbed with tension. Fortunately, his pulse had gotten the memo that he’d just confessed something big and was working its way back to normal. “His name was Daniel. And he, too, had a wife and a baby.”