The Unimaginable

by Dina Silver

  “I do,” Grant said. “But I honestly don’t know where they live or how to find them. I think we should start with Bridget. I’d like to be the one to talk with her.” He swallowed.

  I placed my hand on Grant’s shoulders. He knew all too well what it was like to lose someone you love; surely he felt not only a responsibility to tell her about Quinn but a kinship with her. Like being the member of a private club no one ever wanted to join.

  As we were discussing, Petty Officer Harris was busy tapping away on a keyboard and came up with Quinn’s home phone number in a matter of seconds.

  “We have the number, sir,” he said to Noah.

  Noah turned to Grant. “Do you need more time?”

  Grant shook his head, and they dialed the number.

  It was just past midnight in Miami. On what must have been the last ring, someone answered.

  “Bridget?” Grant confirmed. We could only hear his side of the conversation.

  “This is Grant Flynn.”

  He paused to listen to her.

  “Uh, yes, that is why I’m calling.”

  Pause.

  “We had some trouble last week. The, uh, the boat was attacked . . .” He rubbed his forehead, elbow resting on the arm of the wheelchair. “We were being held captive for five days, and Quinn was shot yesterday just as the navy was coming to our rescue. He didn’t make it.”

  I bent next to his chair and could hear her repeating the words “no” and “what?” Grant rested his head in his hands and let her finish. She wanted to know what happened. Wanted every last detail of Quinn’s last days, and Grant gave it to her. He spared her the most gruesome parts, leaving out anything that indicated Quinn might have suffered at the hands of the devil, and wept with her for a good thirty minutes. She was initially in shock, but by the end of the call she said that she would like to be the one to break the news to his mother.

  “We will bring him home,” was the last thing Grant said to her.

  Grant handed the receiver back to Petty Officer Harris and took a deep breath.

  “Is there anyone else you’d like to contact, Mr. Flynn?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head.

  Once we were through, Noah took us both upstairs to the main deck, where there was a meal waiting for us.

  Grant stared at his food, then pushed the plate away. “This isn’t right. Being here. The whole week. The boat. Everything.”

  “I know.” My hands were folded in my lap.

  “I just can’t stop thinking, what if?” He leaned back in his chair. “I never should have had either of you in that situation.”

  “Stop. You can’t do that to yourself.”

  “This time it was my fault. It was a situation of life and death that I could have controlled, and I fucked it up.”

  When Jane was sick, his hands were tied as well, but it was out of his grasp. Before, during, and after. She was sick, and her illness had the power. No amount of money, no personal choice, no experimental drug could make the difference. He knew that, and he could eventually live with that. He had to. But now, I could see it in his eyes: he felt solely responsible for what happened to Quinn and me.

  “None of us should have been on that boat on that day. This is all my doing.” He gritted his teeth and stretched his neck.

  “Do not do this to yourself. Please, Grant. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I was the one who signed up for this and begged you for the opportunity.”

  He pressed his fingertips into his forehead and closed his eyes just as Noah approached our table.

  “Pardon me,” he said. “I’d like to discuss a couple things with you both, if I may?”

  “Of course.” Grant looked up at him and nodded.

  “The medic has cleared you for leave, and we’d like to get you and Jessica back home to the States as soon as possible. Ideally, we can have you both on a plane first thing in the morning.”

  “What about Quinn?” Grant asked.

  Noah rubbed his chin. “We don’t store caskets on board the ship, so we need to wait for the next military supply corps to bring us one. We’ve gone ahead and put in the request, and it should be here in a couple of days.”

  Grant looked over at me. “I’m not leaving without him.”

  I gently nodded.

  “But if you want to get back to your sister, I completely—”

  “I’m not leaving without you,” I said.

  Both Grant and I glanced back at Noah, who said, “I understand, and if you’re both willing to wait it out, then we will have you all flown out together.”

  “Thank you,” Grant said quietly.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you?” Noah asked.

  I looked at Grant, so defeated and disheartened. Nothing’s worse than a captain who’s had the wind knocked out of their sails. I placed my hand on his forearm, then turned to Noah and shook my head.

  Chapter 27

  Are you sure you don’t want to call your family?”

  Grant shook his head.

  “Can I ask why?”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to worry them.” He looked up at me. “I e-mail my parents about once a month and check in with my friends even less than that. No one is looking for me, and I’d like to keep it that way. They don’t deserve the added stress.”

  I nodded. So was he just going to slip back onto his boat and sail away without missing a beat? My mind was conflicted, trying to understand how he could let this go unnoticed by his family and friends. How such a life-altering—life-ending—event could go unmentioned to the people that care about him. Out of respect, I kept my mouth shut about it, but it didn’t sit well with me.

  We spent two long days aboard the USS Enterprise. Grant was advised to move his leg as little as possible, so I would sit with him in his room most afternoons and evenings. I called Caroline both of the days once I knew what our schedule was, and she arranged to meet us in Miami, which is where the navy would eventually send us, along with Quinn. Once the casket arrived, they were eager to get us all home to our families.

  The morning of our departure, I climbed the stairs to the flight deck with nothing but the clothes I’d been given. A light blue shirt, khaki shorts, a navy baseball cap, and gym shoes borrowed from one of the female officers. Grant followed me. He was out of the wheelchair and supporting himself with one crutch. It was very loud on the flight deck. The wind and the sound of the ocean made it difficult to hear what everyone was saying. When I reached the top and stepped outside, I was overcome with emotion. Everyone on board—hundreds of men and women—was standing on either side of a makeshift aisle that led from one end of the flight deck to another, where a plane was waiting.

  Noah turned toward Grant and me. “These are military honors for Quinn. Everybody has come here to pay their respect.”

  Tears were streaming down my face as we were led to the front of the aisle, where Quinn was waiting. Six members of the color guard held his casket, while a seventh member stood in front. All wore their dress uniforms.

  “We’re about to begin,” Noah said.

  A moment later we heard a voice over the loudspeaker: “Attention!”

  Each one of the people standing aboard the flight deck stood straight, hands at their sides, fists clenched. My heart ached as we walked behind the color guard. Grant had chosen to leave the crutch behind and was walking with a limp. Halfway down the aisle he grabbed hold of my hand. Once we reached the plane, we heard “Parade rest!” announced, and everyone stood with their feet apart and their hands behind their back. We stood and watched Quinn’s body loaded onto the plane. I wiped my eyes, let go of Grant’s hand, and embraced him. He lowered his head to my shoulder, and I could feel his body quiver. He kissed my forehead and turned to shake Noah’s hand.

  “I have no words, my friend,” Grant said to him.

  “None are necessary. I’m only sorry we couldn’t have done enough for Quinn. We all are.”
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  Grant scanned the impressive crowd. “Thank you.”

  Noah turned to me. “Ma’am, have a safe flight home.”

  I smiled as best as I could and caught him off guard by leaning forward and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Thank you, Noah. For everything.”

  He tentatively patted my lower back. “You’re very welcome.”

  Grant tapped me on the shoulder and then read my face, making sure I was ready, before we boarded the plane that would deliver us back to the States.

  Chapter 28

  We were flown to a naval air station in Turkey, where we then switched planes and boarded a three-hour military flight to Germany. Grant and I were inseparable during the journey, but neither of us was very talkative. We held hands and I laid my head on his chest for most of the trip. He slept for about an hour, but I was too anxious to sleep. I thought of Quinn and Imagine, and my heart broke for Grant’s shattered dreams and Quinn’s shattered future. It all came crashing down so quickly that it was hard to wrap my head around everything. One moment I’m falling in love on a sailboat in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and the next I’m on a military flight back to the States. My chest ached for so many different reasons that had I not been glued to Grant’s side, I’m not sure I would have survived the mental torture I was inflicting on myself. And then I began to question everything. Would I return to Thailand? Would Grant leave me and move on with his life? Would I be forced to go back to Indiana with Caroline? How could I leave again and upset her like that? But more importantly, how could I leave him?

  Grant awoke with a start as we were making our descent and looked over at me. “You okay?”

  I nodded, and he pulled me close.

  Once we landed in Germany, we were led to the officers’ quarters on the base and told we’d be spending the night and then boarding a flight to the States in the morning. We were given separate rooms, but I never went to mine. We were also given dinner, a change of clothes, winter jackets and boots, and then we both retired to Grant’s room.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I said.

  “Can I join you?”

  I nodded.

  I turned the water on and let it warm up for a moment. We both undressed, and I hesitated, with my arms in front of me, for a moment.

  “You are the most beautiful sight,” Grant whispered.

  He gently cradled my hand as we stepped into the shower together, and for a moment everything in the universe disappeared except for his adoration of me. I stood under the water first, wetting my hair, as he wrapped his hand around my waist, and then I gingerly moved out of the way, being mindful of his leg. I stared at the muscles in his back as he faced the faucet and shook his hands through his hair, letting the water beat down on his head and shoulders. Once he was dripping, he grabbed the shampoo and turned to face me. He poured a few drops into his hands and motioned for me to come closer.

  “Can I wash your hair for you?”

  I nodded and turned my back to him. He kissed me from my shoulders to my chin on both sides, then massaged my scalp and temples with the tips of his fingers. He whispered my name, and I moaned as his hands slid over my neck and breasts, circling and kneading as he kissed me softly behind the ears. I placed my hand on the wall to steady myself, and then he spun me around and lifted me off my feet and onto the tiled bench at the other end of the shower.

  “I’ve been wanting to kiss you and look at you for too long,” he said, his lips close to my ear.

  He slid next to me and kissed the tips of my fingers and my forearms and my thighs. Then he paused and placed his hand on my face.

  “You were so brave,” he said softly, then closed his eyes and placed his forehead on mine. “Are you getting tired of being brave?”

  I shook my head. “Never.”

  The water was beating down on both of us as Grant carefully bent down and lowered himself to his knees, spreading mine with his hands and then gently circling with his fingers between my legs before sliding them inside of me. I clutched his wet hair as he moved his hand in and out of me, rotating his fingers until I cried out. My hands moved to his neck and shoulders, relishing the flex of his muscles as I pushed closer to him and embraced his touch. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, clinging to him and then unraveling from the inside out.

  I never imagined I’d fall so deeply in love under such duress. Before I dared to dream about what I truly desired, I’d always envisioned myself with a cookie-cutter courtship. A few good dinner dates peppered with movies and meeting the family. Yet there I was, on the heels of facing death as if it were a schoolyard bully, falling in love and out of control. My adoration for him was immense, and our courtship anything but typical. I wanted to care for him and bring his demons to light, because I knew they lived in the darkness of his mind—I just didn’t know what they were.

  After a few quick breaths, he pulled my waist to his lips, kissed my stomach, and laid me onto the ceramic tiles of the shower. I brought his mouth to mine, and we inhaled each other through the heavy spray of the water. Grant quickly lowered himself on top of me and entered me slowly with care and concentration on the one thing we’d been deprived of—pleasure. I melted beneath him, and my mind became disconnected from everything else but his body moving inside of me. My shoulders were pressing into the shower floor, as he was unrelenting. His movements were determined but meticulous, and his hand was cupping the back of my head, protecting it.

  All at once his body shook and he fell forward. I wrapped my arms around his back and held on for dear life. We lay there, panting together, as the water beat down on us and we both slowly caught our breath. He kissed me softly on the lips and sat up, but I could barely open my eyes. Then he leaned forward and turned the shower heads off before reaching for my hands to pull me up. We embraced as though nothing could come between us. Not even water.

  “I need you so badly,” he whispered.

  “I need you too.”

  We sat, naked bodies entwined, allowing ourselves to cherish one another for one final moment, until he pulled away and stood with his weight on one leg. We dried off and dressed in the pajamas that were given to us before crawling into bed. Exhausted.

  There was so much to discuss, but I sensed that neither of us knew where to start. We first had to face Quinn’s family and pay him the respect that he deserved. I glanced over at Grant, and he was scrolling through his cell phone, which had been returned to him right before we left the aircraft carrier. I could barely keep my eyes open.

  “Grant?” I whispered as I was drifting off.

  He looked over at me. “Yeah?”

  “I love you,” I said, and fell asleep about two seconds later.

  The next morning we boarded a nine-hour flight to the naval station in Norfolk, Virginia, and touched down on US soil at about three o’clock in the morning. We were driven to our quarters and given some food and then greeted by a man who reminded me of Kevin Spacey in The Usual Suspects.

  “I’m Walter Morgan from the State Department,” he said. “We want to give you both some time to get your body clocks adjusted, but we’d ideally like to have you on a noon civilian flight to Miami, if that’s okay with you.” He paused. “We’ve contacted Mr. Asner’s family, and they’ll be at the airport to meet the body, along with your sister, Ms. Gregory.” He looked at me.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “That way you should both be able to get to bed on time tomorrow. I know how taxing jet lag can be.” He flipped a page on the clipboard he was holding. “Very well then, once you land in Miami, you’ll be greeted by someone from the State Department there who will direct you to Mr. Asner’s family—per your request—and then you’re free to go. Are there any questions?”

  “My boat,” Grant said. “Do you know anything about its whereabouts?”

  Walter scratched his head and checked his papers again before looking up. “Let me see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you,” Grant said.


  “In the meantime, I’ll check back in a little bit, but please let me know if there is anything I can do for you,” he said, and then left the room.

  The guest quarters we were waiting in looked like your average cheap hotel room. Two double beds, a kitchenette on one wall, striped carpeting, and a wooden desk with matching chair.

  “I guess we should try and get some rest,” I said, and Grant nodded.

  He sat down on one of the beds and turned the TV on while I washed my face and brushed my teeth. After I finished, I joined him on the bed.

  “Anything good?” I asked. It’d been a while since either of us had flipped channels.

  “Mostly infomercials and shit. There’s this blanket with sleeves I’m thinking you might like.”

  “Sounds cozy.”

  Grant leaned over and gave me a kiss. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

  “There’s a toiletry kit in there for you as well.”

  After he bathed, we both crawled into bed and tried to get some sleep, but an hour later we were both still awake.

  “Grant?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Would this be an inappropriate time for me to ask what’s going to happen once we’re in Miami? I mean, after we meet up with Quinn’s family and such.”

  Grant turned on his side and tucked my hair behind my ears, then placed his lips on my forehead for a long moment before pulling away. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

  “I was afraid you’d say something like that.”

  He furrowed his brow. “It’s not that I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been wondering about the boat, and I’m sure I’m going to have to retrieve it at some point. I’ve also been thinking about the trip—you know, whether I should carry on or accept defeat. I’m obviously not going to sail the Indian Ocean again, but if I get my boat back I could pick up in Egypt . . .”

  “With what crew?”

  “It’s not hard to find a crew, Jess.”

  “So you would just go on like nothing happened?”

  He shook his head. “No, not like nothing happened, but what should I do? What should we do?”