by Cliff Happy
Kristen couldn’t see his eyes concealed behind the dark glasses. He’d hidden himself away from her ever since the Persian Gulf. “I know you’ll wear them well.”
Kristen had known she was going to receive her dolphins during the ceremony and had promised herself she wouldn’t cry. But now felt the tears forming in her eyes. “I will, sir.”
Chapter Thirty Three
USS Seawolf
The Seawolf continued on to Bremerton. Even with her gold dolphins now displayed proudly on her left breast, Kristen still found very little spare time on her hands, although there was enough to allow her thoughts to wander far from the rigors of the eighteen-hour schedule. She tried to stay busy with technical manuals, award recommendations, and her regular duties. But he was never far from her thoughts. When they’d been in the Persian Gulf, exhausted and under the tremendous stress of combat, a part of her had again tried to convince the rest of her that what she was feeling for him was fleeting. Her emotions were simply out of whack because of the stress. But once she’d managed to get some rest and had a chance to decompress following the fight, it’d become clear to her. What she was feeling was anything but fleeting.
Kristen spent days trying to decide what to do, finally concluding that she needed to tell him. But this proved more difficult on the tiny submarine than she’d expected. The two of them were on opposite schedules, so their encounters were always brief, hurried affairs and always when others were present.
At the same time, she knew that a part of her was afraid to talk to him. She was scared he might not feel the same way, and she knew she was using her own jam-packed schedule as an excuse to avoid talking to him. But the images of their two encounters in his cabin were her constant companions. She dreamed of nothing else. Even her dreams of a lifelong career in the Navy no longer mattered to her. Kristen had served on a submarine, and during the last three months, she’d managed to make peace with the ghost of her father. Now, all she wanted was Sean.
She knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, with both of them on active duty. The Navy, prior to her boarding the Seawolf, had made it clear the punishment for fraternization. Her career would be ruined if the two of them were to become more than professional acquaintances. But—just like when she’d decided to join the submarine forces—she was willing to make any sacrifice, forsaking her future for whatever time she might have with him.
It had been quite a revelation for her the night she’d been lying awake in her bunk, thinking of him and realized for the first time in her life that she was anxious to embrace the here and now, regardless of what it meant for the future.
Kristen completed inventorying the LMRS drones and ancillary equipment in the torpedo handling room. They were barely forty-eight hours out from Bremerton, and the two drones would be removed once they were back in port. Kristen was securing the last transport box when she heard someone’s footsteps on the deck beyond an empty rack of torpedoes. She hadn’t expected to see anyone in the torpedo room. But as she stood, she came face to face with him.
Brodie stopped for a moment, apparently not having expected to see her, either. There was a brief moment of surprise on his face, but then the stony mask of command clamped down firmly in place. “Good evening, Lieutenant.”
“Good evening, Captain,” she replied reflexively suddenly feeling her tongue turn dry like paper. The words she wanted to say to him vanished in an instant, and she felt tongue tied.
There were several long, uncomfortable seconds of silence between them before Brodie offered, “Well, I’ll let you get back to your work.”
“Yes, sir,” she managed, wanting to kick herself for being a fool.
Brodie turned and stepped away, leaving her. Kristen saw him walking away, and the thought he might keep going was more horrible than she wanted to imagine. “Sean?” she managed, finally finding the courage to speak.
He stopped.
Kristen felt her hands tremble slightly, more nervous than she’d ever imagined possible. At the moment it seemed to her their time in the Gulf had been almost child’s play and her Korean experience insignificant compared to the task now before her. She stared at him, wishing he’d turn around. But he hesitated.
“I’m in love with you,” Kristen whispered. Hearing herself utter the phrase was almost a shock, and she hardly believed she’d found the strength.
His head sagged slightly, but he didn’t turn around.
“I think I’ve loved you from the beginning.”
Brodie’s head turned toward her slightly, but he still didn’t turn around. “Please stop,” he whispered.
But Kristen had found her resolve once more, and she was determined to tell him everything, unwilling to risk eternity never knowing what might have been. “I don’t know how you feel… but I don’t believe what we’ve shared was just stress or fatigue. At least it wasn’t for me.”
Brodie’s back was still to her, and she took a tentative step toward him, wishing he would turn around. Kristen could hear his heavy breathing now, and she saw his head shaking slowly. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but continued. “I’ve spent my whole life wanting nothing more than to be on a submarine, maybe command one someday. But now…” she hesitated, taking a breath as the reality of the feelings she had for this man were finally allowed free reign. She felt an almost refreshing release from the years of self-imposed emotional bondage, “But none of that matters anymore.”
“Don’t say that,” he replied in a voice still barely above a whisper.
“It’s true,” she admitted freely. “I’ve already drawn up my resignation,” she informed him. “I plan on submitting it to COMSUBPAC upon our return to Bremerton.”
Kristen had learned from watching her fellow officers on the Seawolf how difficult it was to be in a relationship as a submariner. The situation was intolerable at best. Submariners were either deployed overseas or training stateside constantly, leaving little time for family. But if the two of them were to ever have a chance, she felt it only logical for her to give up her career. It no longer mattered to her anyway, and he’d reached the pinnacle of his. It would be crazy to ask him to give it up.
Brodie stood silently, but she saw his hands clench into tight fists.
“Please turn around,” Kristen whispered helplessly. She’d exposed her heart to him, and now that the truth was out, her greatest fear lay before her: his denial.
Brodie hesitated another moment before he turned slowly. But instead of seeing the loving eyes and hearing his own profession of affection, she saw his eyes were hard and cold. Then, as he spoke, his tone had a hard edge in it, “Have you lost your mind?”
Kristen blinked a few times. She felt a sudden spasm of pain deep within her. “I had to tell you.”
Kristen watched, desperately wanting to see the warmth in his eyes again. But the steel grey eyes were as cold as an arctic blast. “I…” he paused. She thought she briefly heard his voice waver, but then he continued, his voice once more steady, “It was the stress,” he assured her. “Nothing more.”
Kristen blinked a few times, not believing him. She’d felt it. She’d felt it in his arms. She’d seen it in his eyes. She remembered every detail of every second they’d shared. She could still taste the sweetness of his lips. She could smell his scent and hear his heart beating alongside her own. Her memory allowed her to forget not the slightest detail.
“Nothing?” Kristen asked in disbelief.
“Nothing,” Brodie responded coldly, without any hint of emotion in his voice. “I regret any confusion, Lieutenant. But there was nothing more.”
She stared blankly at him.
He was lying.
He had to be lying.
She recalled the dim memory of him carrying her to Gibbs’ coffin rack, their moment on the sail in the Tsushima Straits. She could see his face, the love in his eyes. But he turned from her, and stepped away.
“You’re lying,” Kristen uttered to his back. “Tell me why
you’re lying, please.” She felt her tears welling up in her eyes as the pain within her grew. It felt like he was ripping the heart out of her chest.
He paused, his back still to her.
“I know you love me,” Kristen told him. “I know it.”
He hesitated, and she could see the broad shoulders struggling; they seemed to almost tremble. “You’re mistaken,” he replied slowly.
Kristen bit her lip, not understanding why he was denying it. Had she been wrong? She was new to love. Could she have misread the signs? “Turn around and tell me to my face,” Kristen insisted. “Say it to my face. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t care for me.”
His head lowered slightly. His shoulders and arms tensed. Then, after what seemed like hours of struggle, but was only a few moments, he once more turned his head slightly. “I don’t love you,” he said flatly.
He then walked away, leaving her in the empty torpedo room with the shattered remnants of her heart strewn around her on the floor.
Chapter Thirty Four
Bremerton, Washington
Kristen was in maneuvering when the Seawolf returned home. Whereas everyone else had been anxious to be topside to see their waiting loved ones, Kristen had asked the XO to take her off the bridge crew. He hadn’t argued with her request, and she wondered if Brodie had told his old friend of her profession of love in the torpedo room a few days earlier. Regardless, being around Brodie was now pure torture for her. She couldn’t trust herself to even look his way in the wardroom, and she felt like a complete emotional wreck every time she saw him.
Tears were something she hadn’t experienced in over fifteen years. There’d been a time when she hadn’t believed it possible to cry. But since that awful moment in the torpedo room when he’d walked away from her, she’d learned just how quickly her tears could come.
The Seawolf pulled back into her berth at Pier D without incident, and Kristen supervised the powering down of the reactor and the transfer to shore power, officially ending her first patrol. She knew it would be a patrol never to be repeated. The Seawolf was the current topic of discussion among everyone familiar with the submarine service. The officers and crew were living legends in Bremerton, and she soon learned the crowd on the pier waiting to welcome them home contained dignitaries, crews from other submarines, and numerous flag officers besides the families waiting for their loved ones.
But Kristen knew no one would be waiting for her. Her paternal grandparents were far too frail to make the journey from southern California. Her mother?
The thought almost made her laugh.
No, Kristen reminded herself, she had no one.
She caught a glimpse of Brodie in the passageway, walking with two admirals including Beagler, along with Brodie’s replacement. He was a forty-something, salt and pepper haired commander nursing a small spare tire around his waist. Brodie led them forward to the wardroom where they could begin the changeover process. Kristen knew Brodie was already packed; all of his possessions fitting into a single sea bag and one clothing bag. Both of the bags were already resting on the deck of his cabin.
They’d not spoken again since their meeting in the torpedo room, and she could hardly bring herself to imagine ever speaking with him again. Her own feelings hadn’t changed, and her love for him seemed only stronger after his denial. But the grim reality made her love now bittersweet. The fact she still had her career was little consolation. Without him in her life, she would have no life at all, and her career would be hollow and marginally satisfying at best.
Kristen left the submarine. It was warm on deck, and it appeared Bremerton was enjoying an early spring. She was once more in her khaki uniform with her recent decorations added to her modest display of meaningless ribbons and the worn gold dolphins displayed proudly as she’d promised him when he gave them to her. Carrying her bag, she walked ashore and took the duty vehicle to the Combined Bachelor’s Quarters, where she returned to her old room.
Her first order of business was to make phone calls to her family. She spent nearly an hour talking with her grandparents, promising to come and see them during her upcoming leave. Her conversation with her mother was much shorter; lasting less than two minutes after her mother explained she was on her way out the door when Kristen had called. The balance of the afternoon was then spent in her room, shedding more tears and struggling to come to grips with the loneliness that surrounded her.
The next day there was a brief and relatively painless ceremony held on the pier alongside the Seawolf where Brodie was formally relieved of command and Kristen’s new captain took over. His name was Campbell. She’d heard of him, of course. He was considered competent, but nothing like the legend Brodie had become. Normally, change of command ceremonies were rather elaborate affairs with bands and speeches, especially when Brodie was also promoted to full captain during the ceremony, making it even more significant. But true to his word, Brodie’s last command as the skipper of the Seawolf had been to keep the ceremony short so the men could start their leave as soon as possible. No speeches, no bands, just a brief promotion, a formal reading of the orders relieving Brodie and posting his replacement, and then the men were dismissed.
Following the ceremony, all the officers were taken to the Officers’ Club for a reception where Commander Campbell could meet his new officers. Kristen wasn’t in a partying mood to say the least. Mercifully, she saw Brodie only once. He was standing by a window deep in conversation with Admiral Beagler while she spoke briefly with her new captain.
“Captain Brodie speaks highly of you, Lieutenant,” Campbell greeted her with a painted-on smile. He reminded her of a sleazy car salesman for some reason. After he gave her a pleasant look, his eyes glanced beyond her toward Brodie and the Admiral enviously.
Kristen offered her congratulations for his command, but could hardly muster an ounce of sincerity. She then withdrew, finding some company with Penny Graves, who helped Kristen get through the next two hours; the bare minimum time Kristen had to wait before she could slip out of the party to start her own leave.
Somewhere during the conversation with Penny, Kristen lost sight of Brodie. She assumed the Seawolf’s former master had beaten a hasty exit to allow the submarine’s new captain to be the center of attention.
“Are you okay, Kristen?” Penny asked suspiciously.
“I’m fine,” she lied, hearing the lack of sincerity in her own voice as she looked toward an exit.
“You don’t look okay,” Penny pointed out. “You wanna talk about it?”
Kristen could only shake her head. There was no one alive she could talk to about it except for Patricia; only Patricia would understand.
She excused herself and headed for the nearest door, anxious to be alone. She’d nearly made it out when she heard a voice off to her left call her name. For a brief moment she thought it might be Brodie. But she recognized Terry walking through the crowd toward her.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked with his charming smile. She’d noticed over the past month no more open advances from him. Instead, he’d become more interested in just talking to her, which had been a welcome relief from dodging his constant barrage of proposals.
Kristen motioned toward the door. “Yeah, I was. I start leave in the morning and need to pack.”
“Where to?” he asked, and she noticed an unusual note of desperation in his tone which she didn’t understand.
“I promised my grandparents I would come and see them,” Kristen admitted.
Terry nodded and then, as if as an afterthought asked, “What’re your plans for tonight?”
“Nothing really,” she admitted. “Just packing.”
“Maybe we could get something to eat?” he asked hopefully.
But she shook her head. “Nah,” then added in explanation, “I don’t think I’d be very good company right now.”
But Terry wasn’t about to surrender so easily. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.”
Kristen suspected he might have developed stronger feelings for her than simple lust, but shook her head. “Sorry, Terry,” she told him. “I really just want to be alone.”
She said goodnight to him and headed back to her barracks. She tried to purge herself of thoughts of Brodie as she walked, but it was impossible. He’d said nothing to her at the reception, avoiding her as he had for the last month of the cruise. But their last conversation rang in her ears, stinging her still.
Kristen changed into her gym clothing, hoping to exorcise him from the depths of her soul by punishing her body. But even though she ran nearly five miles at such a pace she made herself sick, her thoughts were still plagued by him.
Kristen returned to her room as dusk settled. After a shower, she finished unpacking her gear and prepared a bag for the trip to San Diego. But within an hour, she’d seen to her uniforms, packed and repacked her bag, and then faced the prospect of a long night alone.
She had no more tears left to shed.
She tried reminding herself that she was accustomed to being alone, having spent her life isolated from everyone around her. But now, for the first time, the bitter loneliness felt like a weight too heavy to bear. The empty room only amplified her depression and sense of isolation.
Finally, unable to stand the solitude any longer, she grabbed her leather flight jacket and fled the room, wanting to get some fresh night air. The fickle Puget Sound weather had turned a bit cold, and she was thankful for the jacket as she walked aimlessly along the sidewalk. Occasionally a car slowed and some half-drunk sailor offered her a ride, but otherwise, she met no one as she walked aimlessly around the base.
As she meandered, Kristen couldn’t stop her persistent memory from replaying every moment with him, searching for any hint to prove she’d been wrong. But with each step, her mind replayed the last words he spoke to her, telling her he didn’t care for her. Kristen walked on and finally found herself at the wharf looking out at the submarine piers.