“I hope so,” Marilyn said, doubt lingering in her voice.
Heather’s eyes narrowed, and she cocked her head to one side as she studied Marilyn more closely. “Have you talked to your mother today?”
“No.” Marilyn shook her head. “I haven’t talked to her since I called to let her know how Kel’s surgery went. Why?”
“Because you always start second-guessing everything when you talk to your mom,” Heather told her.
“She’s just worried about me.”
“She’s also paranoid,” Heather pointed out. “Not that I don’t love your mom, but she has a tendency to look on the not-so-bright side of things. With the way she disapproves of Kel’s career, I’m surprised he doesn’t try to block her calls.”
“She’s the only family either of us has left. Besides, she’s a lot better now than when I first got married.”
“I guess that’s true,” Heather agreed. “But don’t let her get you down. Trust that everything will work out, and it probably will.”
“I’ll try,” Marilyn managed. “But I still don’t know what I’m going to do after you move.”
“You’ll talk to me all the time on the phone,” Heather said without missing a beat. “I still can’t believe we’ve both lasted this long. Two navy wives living in the same place for five years.” Heather’s eyebrows lifted. “Pretty amazing.”
Marilyn nodded, fighting a sudden sense of loss. “I’m sorry I won’t be here to help you pack up.”
“That’s what the movers are for. Besides, you’ll probably get back before I leave.” Heather’s cell phone chimed, and she reached into her pocket to silence it. “I hate to pack and run, but I’ve got to go meet with the Realtor.”
Marilyn reached out to embrace her friend. “Keep in touch.”
“You know I will.” Heather hugged her and then moved toward the door. “And call me if you need to talk.”
Marilyn simply nodded and watched Heather disappear outside. She let out a sigh, staring at the door for a moment as she sniffled back the tears that threatened. Heather was her only real friend, and now she was moving across the country. Marilyn couldn’t begin to imagine what life would be like if Kel made it back to the teams now that she wouldn’t have anyone else here to rely on.
She let out a sigh and tried to shake off her negative thoughts. Realizing that Katherine would be back from Amy’s house any minute, she moved down the hall and entered the bedroom she and Kel used as an office. She crossed to the closet and pulled out a deck of cards and a couple of other games that were small enough to transport easily.
She then turned and stared at the bulky desktop computer, considering whether to pack it up or not. Even though Kel insisted that he had some money stashed away for a rainy day, Marilyn had saved nearly every penny of her transcription money over the past few years. Her money wasn’t so much for that rainy day, but rather to prepare for if and when Kel ever left the military.
After writing on the Whitmore’s laptop the night before, she wondered if perhaps it was time to break open her savings account and buy one of her own.
With a sigh, she turned on the computer and logged on to check her e-mail.
She then indulged herself and opened the file that contained the latest version of her novel. She scrolled down to the end, reading the last few paragraphs she had written.
Isabella glanced at her watch again, even though she knew what time it was. He was late. Again.
She thought of the evening she had planned. The special birthday dinner, the elegant place settings in the dining room, complete with candlelight.
Her teeth clenched together as she thought of the hours she had spent in the kitchen making his favorite homemade rolls. I should have known, she thought to herself. She should have known he would stand her up again.
With a shake of her head, she walked into the dining room. One by one, she blew out the candles.
Marilyn itched to fiddle with the scene, to explore more possibilities, but instead she downloaded the file onto her flash drive and then turned off the computer. When a knock came at the door, Marilyn stepped out of the office into the hall. Then the door opened before she moved to answer it.
“Hello?” Katherine called out as she stepped inside.
“Come on in.” Marilyn waved her inside. “Did you get everything Amy wanted?”
“More or less.” Katherine smiled innocently.
“Does that mean you added the brown suit Amy was talking about?”
“Well, it was right between two of the outfits she wanted. She can’t blame me that it jumped into her suitcase with the others.” Katherine gave a shrug. “What about you? Are you all packed?”
“Just about.” Marilyn waved in the direction of the office. “I’m trying to decide if it’s worth it to pack up my computer and bring it with me or if I should break down and buy a laptop of my own.”
“You’re welcome to borrow the one at our house as long as you like. You can even take it with you to the hospital if you want.”
“Are you sure?” Marilyn asked hesitantly. After growing up on a shoestring budget, she was still hesitant to spend the money on such a luxury.
“Absolutely,” Katherine insisted. “You’ll need something to do when you’re at the hospital, especially once your husband starts rehab.”
“That would be great. I hate to the spend the money on one before I know if I’ll really use it,” Marilyn admitted.
“What can I help you with?”
“I think I’m all set except for these.” Marilyn slipped the strap of the canvas bag over her shoulder and picked up the stack of games.
“Did you already pack some clothes for Kel?”
Marilyn smiled. “Oh, yeah. That was the only thing he asked me to bring him.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t look like the hospital-gown type to me.”
Marilyn laughed. “You’re right about that.” She took one last look around the little house and then followed Katherine outside to where their cars were parked. “I’m going straight to the hospital, so I guess I’ll see you at your house later tonight.”
“We’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”
“Thanks again for everything.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
* * *
Kel hated this. He could take the constant poking and prodding, but lying in bed all day and doing nothing was likely going to drive him crazy.
An orderly knocked on the door and carried in a tray. “I have your dinner, sir.”
“Thanks.” Kel shifted in his bed as the tray was set in front of him. He looked down at the food, wishing he had some interest in the chicken broth and Jell-O in front of him. Reluctantly, he picked up his spoon and forced himself to eat the broth, all the while wishing it were a steak, medium rare.
The door opened once more, but this time he smiled.
Marilyn shifted an overnight bag as she moved into the room and then dropped a canvas bag onto a chair. She took one look at the food in front of him and shook her head sympathetically. “Let me know when you can have some real food, and I’ll smuggle in some lo mein.”
“Deal.” Kel smiled up at her as she leaned down to kiss him. “Did you bring me my clothes?”
She nodded. “I brought some books and games, too. I thought they might help you pass the time.”
Kel looked up at her, a sudden sense of anxiety settling in his stomach. He watched her set the overnight bag down on the chair, unzip it, and pull out a change of clothes. With a glance down at his leg, reality struck him with new force. He needed help. He couldn’t even perform the simple task of getting dressed by himself.
Marilyn looked up at him, concern crossing her face. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Kel admitted. “How am I going to survive this place for six weeks?”
“One day at a time.” Marilyn put her hand on his and squeezed, her eyes compassionate. “Don’t think about tomorrow until yo
u have to.” She nodded down at the food in front of him. “Why don’t you finish eating, and then I’ll help you get dressed. You’ll feel more like yourself when you have your own clothes on.”
He kept his eyes on her for a long minute, realizing how relieved he was that she hadn’t made him ask for help. Slowly, he nodded, but all the while he hoped he wouldn’t need her help for long.
* * *
Something was very wrong. Marilyn didn’t know what it was, but she could feel the tension in the air, not from the people in the house but rather from those absent. As far as she could tell, Amy never came home last night, and the senator had been oddly preoccupied when he arrived long after the sun went down. She had just been waking up that morning when she heard the senator’s car pull out of the garage. The clock at her bedside had read 5:04.
Unsettled by the change in atmosphere, Marilyn turned to the one thing that always seemed to calm her down: writing. She had moved to the desk and fired up the laptop in the early morning light. She had planned to work from the file she had started several months ago, but instead she found herself continuing with the story she had started two days before.
Even though the characters had the same names as they did in her numerous other stories, for the first time she found them taking on their own personalities, making choices she hadn’t already mapped out for them. The anxiety she felt infused itself into the situations she wrote for them as her fingers flew over the keyboard.
He hadn’t called. He’d said he was going to call. He had promised.
She knew she shouldn’t worry. It wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before, but still the nerves in her stomach churned. Maybe something was wrong. Or maybe he was still upset about their fight the night before. But he had said he would call. He said he knew he had to decide.
Maybe it was better that he hadn’t called after all. She wasn’t sure she was ready to know what his choice was. What would she do if he chose his career over her? More importantly, would she see him again?
Marilyn let the possibilities run through her head, and the words continued to appear on the computer screen. When the demands of her stomach finally slowed her creative momentum, she was surprised to look out the window to see the sun shining brightly. She glanced at the clock, stunned to see that it was after nine o’clock. Embarrassed that she had yet to surface from her room, she quickly showered and changed before heading for the kitchen.
She found Katherine in the living room curled up on the couch, a glass of juice in one hand and a book in the other. “Good morning,” she greeted her with a warm smile.
“Good morning,” Marilyn managed.
Before she could voice whatever apology she felt she should offer, Katherine motioned to the kitchen. “I’m afraid I’m being lazy today, so I didn’t make any breakfast, but there are some Danishes on the counter, or, if you would rather, there is cereal in the pantry. Help yourself to whatever you can find.”
“Thank you,” Marilyn said, but instead of continuing to the kitchen she surprised herself by asking, “What are you reading?”
Katherine lifted the book so that she could see the cover of a recently released mystery novel. “Do you like to read?”
“Yeah, I do,” Marilyn admitted. “It’s one of my favorite things.”
“Me, too. It never ceases to amaze me how a writer can string words together and come up with a book I can’t put down.” Katherine shook her head. “I started reading this last night before I went to bed and stayed up later than I should have. This morning I decided to indulge myself so I can find out what happens.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” Marilyn smiled at her, wondering if she would ever be able to succeed in writing something people would want to read. “I’m going to head over to the hospital and see how Kel is doing.”
“There are paper towels on the counter if you want to take a Danish with you,” Katherine told her. “Also, the case for the laptop is in the top of the closet in your room if you want to take it to the hospital.”
Marilyn smiled. Maybe the words that had come so easily this morning would continue if she found some time to write at the hospital. “I think I will. Thanks.”
“Give me a call if you need anything,” Katherine told her.
Marilyn nodded as she headed back to her room to retrieve the laptop. She was still a little awed by the fact that she had Senator and Katherine Whitmore’s home and cell phone numbers programmed into her cell phone. The senator had even given her the number to his private line on Capitol Hill.
She moved back down the hall and called good-bye to Katherine as she left through the front door. As she climbed into her car and settled the laptop case safely in the front seat, she decided it was time her husband told her more about how he had come to know the Whitmores.
6
Kel stood by his bed, his hand gripping the edge of it as he struggled to put some weight on his injured leg. He had opted against taking the heavy painkillers the doctor prescribed. He was determined to get back in touch with his body and what it was trying to tell him. If he couldn’t feel the pain, he wouldn’t know how far he could push himself.
After Marilyn had left the night before, one of the nurses had helped him walk to the bathroom. If that hadn’t been humiliating enough to need help to go the six steps across the room, he’d had the added embarrassment of not making it even two steps before he stumbled.
Today he was determined to win back some of his dignity. And his privacy.
Grabbing hold of the walker the doctor had insisted he use for the next few days, he shifted his weight onto his good leg and straightened his body. Gritting his teeth together, he moved his injured leg forward. He could feel the pull of the stitches, the ache from deep in his leg combined with an odd numbing sensation, and a sharp pain radiating from his knee. He quickly stepped forward with his good leg so he could take his weight off the bad one.
Taking a deep breath, Kel repeated the process. One step, then another, and another. By the time he reached the bathroom, he could feel beads of sweat on his forehead, and all of his muscles felt weak. Kel tried to focus on the victory of making it on his own, not wanting to admit that he had been reduced to someone who couldn’t yet walk without assistance.
He was halfway back to his bed, leaning heavily on the walker, when the door opened wide and Marilyn walked in.
“What are you doing out of bed?” She rushed to his side, gripping his arm to help him back to the bed.
Out of breath, Kel let her help him. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to catch his breath while Marilyn stood beside him and held him steady. Bracing against the pain that was sure to come, he shifted himself farther onto the bed and used his hands to lift his injured leg so he could reposition himself to where he could lie back down.
“Are you okay?” Marilyn asked now, reaching down to pull the covers over him.
Kel blew out a breath and nodded. He let himself catch his breath before he attempted to speak. “I just got a little winded when I went to the bathroom.”
“Why didn’t you call a nurse to help you?”
He looked at her then, wondering if she really understood him. “I needed to do it for myself.”
Marilyn straightened a little, as though surprised by his intensity. “Okay.” She set down a bag she had been carrying. “Does the doctor have any more tests scheduled for you today, or do you finally just get to rest?”
“I have an ultrasound scheduled for this afternoon, but as far as I know, there isn’t anything until then.”
“In that case,” Marilyn pulled open the bag and looked up at him, “do you want to play gin rummy or Boggle?”
“You always win at gin rummy.”
“Yeah, I know.” Then she leaned down and kissed him. “Because it requires very little skill and a lot of luck.”
“Let’s try Boggle.” Kel pushed aside the water jug on his tray to make room. “It’s about time I beat you at something.”
> Marilyn pulled her chair closer and grinned. “You can try.”
* * *
Admiral Carlos Mantiquez stood outside Kel Bennett’s hospital room door. He had considered making this visit two days ago when the commander had been admitted, but he knew from experience that wounded sailors needed a little time to adjust mentally before they faced the practicality of their situations.
He shifted the stack of personnel files in his hands when he noticed Senator Whitmore heading his way.
“Admiral, I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you doing?”
“Doing fine, Senator. How about you?”
“Better now that today is over.”
Carlos nodded in understanding. The terrorist threat in Arizona had been averted, and the Saint Squad, including the senator’s son-in-law, was heading home to Virginia.
Senator Whitmore motioned to Kel Bennett’s room. “Have you told him yet?”
“Told him what?”
“That you want him to select his replacement.” He gave him a knowing look. “You’re standing outside of the commander’s door knowing full well he is going to be out of the action. And you have a stack of personnel files in your hand.”
“I was just about to discuss the options with him.” Carlos shook his head. “I’m not sure how he’s going to take this, though. As much as I would love to have the other squads in SEAL Team Eight pick up the slack, if we have a major event, I’m going to need the whole team ready to move. That includes the Saint Squad.”
“Kel understands what’s at stake. He has to know that his squad can’t stand down until he recovers,” Jim assured him. “Besides, he’ll understand that he’s only selecting a temporary replacement.”
“I hope it’s only temporary,” Carlos said skeptically. “Do you think he understands that he might not make it back?”
“Mentally, yes. Emotionally, no.” The senator shifted closer to the wall to let a nurse walk by. “I don’t think he’s willing to consider that possibility, and it’s probably better for him at this point if he doesn’t.”
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