by Zoe Dawson
She’d be glad when it was over because by then she would make her decision, but the accumulated stress and strain left her almost numb. When Thanksgiving morning dawned, she woke up and got out of bed. It was early, and when she went into the kitchen to start her stuffing, she halted. Tank was standing there drinking coffee.
“Hey,” she croaked, then cleared her voice. “How long have you been here?”
“I just got here. I didn’t want to wake you. You sounded so exhausted on the phone last night. Sorry I’ve been absent.”
“I understand,” she said softly, and she did. He was part of a gun slinging team that kept the US safe. She couldn’t be petty about some time away from her.
He stepped close to her. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured. As a reconciling gesture, it was a good one.
She leaned up and kissed him, her voice uneven as she whispered, “I missed you, too.”
He nodded. When she went to go past him, he caught her arm. Startled, she looked at him. “That stuffing and turkey aren’t going to make themselves,” she said.
His mouth curved. “Do you know how much I want to drag you into your room and have my way with you, babe?”
She blushed, still not used to the way he made her body sing with declarations like that.
“Have I ever told you I fucking love it when you blush?”
“No.”
“Now you know.”
Her throat cramping painfully, she slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze, wishing they could just spend the day together alone. He brushed a kiss against the back of her hand, then released her. “Can I help?”
“No, you can relax. My stuffing is a one woman show.”
“I’ll get my run done, then.”
That one brief exchange eased the awful heaviness inside her, and she faced the dinner with a renewed energy. She put everything together, greeting Jordan with warmth when he knocked at her door, a bottle of wine in his hands. He joined Tank and her father on the couch for the endless hours of football.
Was it her imagination or had she detected tension between her dad and Tank? They were cordial, but there was some underlying animosity there.
She wasn’t sure she should even ask Tank about it. Their relationship was a bit shaky now. At the next knock, she opened the door to Dan and the woman she’d seen at Tank’s house. For a moment, she was confused and blinked a couple of times.
“Hello, Alyssa,” Becca (or Tinkerbell) said as she flounced inside in the most gorgeous pink outfit, a fluffy pink, three-quarter sleeved sweater over a white chiffon blouse, the sleeves flouncy and a slim pair of white designer jeans. Her shoes were also pink with little pompoms on them.
Tank rose and looked from Dan to Becca. He cocked his head. “What’s going on?”
“Becca and I are together,” he said
Tank’s brows rose, and Alyssa said, “Well, that’s nice,” to break the tension. Jordan looked from Tank to Dan, then exchanged a wry look with her.
Jordan took that moment to say, “I have to go to the hospital to have exploratory surgery.”
They all looked at him startled, which, she realized, was his way of breaking up the tension by focusing on him. “I’m sorry, Jordan,” Alyssa said, looking at Tank who reached out and squeezed his brother’s shoulder.
Holly took that moment to arrive. When she walked in she was all smiles, toting a pumpkin pie. She stopped short for a moment and looked at everyone’s faces. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, but it was more a question than declaration.
The tension was mounting with Tank and Dan seeming at odds. It overpowered the festive spirit that should be present in the room. Family dynamics were always interesting, but this took that to a new high.
Finally, after dinner, Tank grabbed Dan and dragged him out to the patio. Alyssa could only hear the muffled conversation while she cleaned up.
“Hearing anything good?” Becca said.
Alyssa jumped and whirled around. “No…I wasn’t…you caught me.”
Becca smiled. “I don’t have any siblings, so this has all been really interesting. It’s true that Thorn and I fooled around.” She nudged Alyssa. “He’s great in bed, right? Can I say that and not have it be weird?” She smiled.
“You’re definitely right,” Alyssa said. “But that might still be a bit awkward.”
“Of course, but we can be friends. I hope so.” She peered out again. “He loves you.”
She said it off the cuff while she was staring out the window. But Alyssa’s heart jumped in her chest at the sound of those words.
“Anyhoo, at the time, I didn’t know why he stopped calling, but after I met you, the mystery was solved.” She looked out the window, her eyes focusing on Dan, her face going soft. “It’s no secret that all three of them are pretty amazing catches: Thorn, a Navy SEAL protecting his country, Dan a firefighter protecting us all, and Jordan as sweet and smart—” her voice caught. “I can’t believe the unfairness of him getting sick. I intend to pay for his treatments. Dan argued with me at first, but I told him it was futile. I’m rich, but I don’t want that to be what defines me anymore. I understand you have a charity. I’m wondering if you’d let me participate. I need to learn the ropes to prove to my dad I’ve changed.” She squeezed Alyssa’s arm and smiled. “I thought I wanted more from Thorn, but after I met Dan, anything I felt for him withered into friendship. We’re both pretty damned lucky.”
Alyssa smiled, any wariness or worry she had about Becca dissolved.
“Hey, do you have any more of that delicious pumpkin pie?” Then she leaned forward and said with a mischievous, infectious grin, “I bet if we opened the window, we could hear what they were saying.”
Later that night, Alyssa waited for Tank to join her in bed, but as it got later and later, she went back out to the living room. He wasn’t there, and for a moment she thought he had left without saying goodbye.
But then she saw him outside staring up at the sky. Grabbing her throw off the back of the couch, she wrapped it around herself and opened the patio door and stepped outside.
“You all right?”
“Just thrown with the news about Dan and Becca. He told me he was in love with her and she’d already explained about me and us sleeping together.”
Alyssa laughed. “Yeah, it’s awkward.”
Tank laughed, too, and slung his arm around her shoulder. “Who am I to stand in anyone’s way?”
“Including me?”
He straightened and turned to face her. “Including you.”
“If I go active duty and take the Lackland job, it will make it very difficult to see you.”
“It’s going to make it impossible,” he said. “I’m not leaving the SEALs, Alyssa. I’m based out of San Diego. I want to be with you, but I’m not going to be that selfish jerk I was before I met you. I’m not going to demand you change for me. You have to make your own decisions about what you want to do. It’s not my way or the highway anymore. I care about the decision you’re going to make. I just won’t influence it or make it for you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “That’s exactly what I need to hear. I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m needed at Lackland. Stephen is a good example of what can go wrong. It keeps me up at night.”
“You want me to stay?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
“I’m going to hang out here for a bit. You do have some thinking to do. I’m here for you if you need to talk some more.”
She nodded and left. An hour had passed since she’d left him on the patio. The luminous numerals showed 1:32 when she heard the telltale squeak of the door. She stopped breathing, every nerve in her body on alert, a flutter breaking loose in her chest. There was a soft click as the door closed, a brief silence, then a rasp of a zipper. Her heart pounding so hard she was sure it could be heard halfway across the room, Alyssa stared into the darkness, a hope-riddled anxiety immobilizing her. She felt the covers being pu
lled back, then the mattress shift as Tank slipped into bed.
More than anything, she wanted to turn into his arms, to close the physical and emotional distance between them, but fear that she would just lose it kept her still.
Feeling the warmth of him only inches away from her back, she opened her eyes and stared into the blackness, wondering if she would risk breaking the tenuous intimacy if she said something. Expelling a long sigh, he slipped one arm under her head and the other around her midriff, drawing her securely into the curve of his body. Thrown into emotional overload, she tried to turn in his arms, but he held her fast, the arm around her middle locking her against him.
Could she really give this up? What was more important? Her personal needs or her vow to serve her country?
16
The next day, when she woke up, Tank was gone. She decided it was better this way. Easier.
Shortly after that, she got a call from her commander. “I’m just calling to find out if you’ve made up your mind, Alyssa. You need to make a decision about active duty and taking that plumb job at Lackland.”
She hadn’t been able to get what happened to Echo off her mind. If she was there at Lackland, she could make a difference. Her personal needs would have to take a back seat to serving her country, no matter how much that hurt. “I’m going to transition to active duty and take the job. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.” He started to talk about going to Lackland, interviewing with the director, moving, paperwork and a million other things, but Alyssa had just effectively ended her relationship with Tank. Everything else was just semantics.
As soon as she hung up with her commander, she was called into an emergency at her clinic. A dog had been hit by a car and needed immediate surgery. She spent hours repairing the damage, and it was touch and go a couple of times, but when she closed, the black lab was going to have a chance to make it.
When she went to leave the operating room, Jordan said, “I’m so impressed by you, Doc. You have a gift.” That’s exactly what the anesthesiologist had said to her at Lackland.
She had to close herself into the bathroom as the combined emotion hit her at once—losing Tank, then having to give up her clinic when these people needed her sent her into a tailspin.
Over the next few days, she went through the motions. She and her dad left San Diego and flew to San Antonio. After landing, they drove to his house and she settled in her old room. She’d have to look for a place, move, sell her practice, and leave all her friends behind. Feeling shaky, she kept pushing her emotions away.
She went through the motions of eating, making conversation, washing, sleeping. Then when she woke up, she went to dress in her uniform. She pulled it from the hanger and simply stared at it. She backed up and sat on the edge of the bed.
Then with a shaky sigh, she got dressed, made sure she was polished and spit shined, her hair ruthlessly pulled back into her customary bun. Her dad waved from the table where he was having his breakfast and said, “We can have lunch after you’re done.”
She nodded and got into her rental car and drove to Lackland like an automaton. She entered through the doors and headed for the director’s office. But as she rounded a corner, she ran right into Stephen.
For a startled moment, she stared up at him, then she said, “Why didn’t you adjust for my job?”
His chin went up and his eyes flashed. “Why couldn’t you adjust for mine?” he shot back at her, his mouth flattening out, his resentment clear in every word. “I was offered a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn’t turn it down, but you were caught up in your own selfish goals, Alyssa, as if you thought you were better than me. You could never seem to see mine.”
“You wanted me to compromise because you’re the man and that’s what is expected of women. Your desperation to outdo me is what the problem was, not my awesomeness. Fuck you, Stephen. We never really had anything. It was built on a foundation of nothing in the first place. I know I’m better off.”
“You’re such a know-it-all cold bitch. Have a good life, Alyssa. I hope you choke on it.”
He brushed past her, and she had to place her hand on the wall to steady herself. To face the ugly fact about their marriage. She hadn’t seen his goals because she was too focused on proving to her dad that she was as tough as a man. But her marriage to Stephen had many more problems than her unwillingness to compromise. It was his resentment every time she excelled. He was never really there for her and she told herself that was okay, but emotions didn’t rule her. It was more about her not realizing that she and her husband weren’t compatible. He wasn’t supportive. If she hadn’t been so worried about giving into her emotions, she would have been more in touch with who she was and what she needed. He was never going to be that man, not in her heart, not in her bed. Not wanting to come to a compromise with Stephen was her deep-seated way of telling herself she wanted out of the marriage. It wasn’t the distance that killed it. It was Stephen’s narrow-minded expectations.
Her breath caught, and she came alive again. The numbness disappeared. Instead of going to her appointment, she went to the front desk and filled out a very important piece of paper. She was ten minutes late for her meeting.
She walked into the director’s office. “Hello, Dr. St. James. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I feel that face to face interviews are much better than talking through a computer.” He indicated a chair.
She didn’t move. Instead she said, “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, but I’ve decided to leave the Army altogether. I won’t be taking this post. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
With that done, she reached back and pulled her hair out of its bun, and as it came unraveled, so did she. She turned and exited the office, the director sputtering in surprise.
What had she done?
Pressing her fingers to her trembling lips, she ran, feeling freer than she ever had in her life. She’d convinced herself that this was exactly like what had happened between her and Stephen, but Tank wasn’t Stephen. The situation wasn’t the same at all. She’d let her fear of the distance Tank’s service to his country would take on her. But this wasn’t about distance, it wasn’t about love. This wasn’t a compromise at all. She realized that’s exactly what she wanted to do. She loved her practice. She loved what she did for the community. Loved the charity and making MWDs more comfortable and safer in their service.
But most of all, she loved Thorn Hunt and she couldn’t live without him.
When she got home her dad was dressed and sitting in the living room listing to NPR. He rose when she came in.
“I can’t go to lunch and I can’t be what you want me to be.”
He walked toward her. “What? Are you all right?”
“No, Dad. I’m not Robbie. I’ll never be him. Your son, my wonderful brother, died, and I could never fill his shoes.”
He looked at her, a shocked expression on his face. “Alyssa—”
“This is me, Dad. I work hard, but I love harder. I’m messy and emotional and complicated. I’m a woman! I’m not a man and I don’t think like one and that doesn’t diminish me at all. My femininity defines me, and I love high heels, pretty dresses, letting my hair down and makeup. I can’t be the son you wanted, but I’ll be the daughter I know you love.”
He stiffened. “Why are you bringing your brother into this?”
“Because his death devastated you, Dad. You wanted me to take up his mantle as some way to assuage your grief. Holding onto his potential through me.”
He looked away, his eyes fluttering. “I didn’t…I couldn’t…”
She touched his arm. “You did, Dad. I felt it and I won’t let you diminish my emotions. I know what I feel, and I know how it’s affected me. Be strong so that our relationship can move past this. It’s time for you to embrace your own emotions.”
He rubbed absently at his face. She’d never seen her father cry, not once. Not even at the funeral
, but his moist eyes showed her that she should have had this talk with him long before now. “I’m going to put the past in the past. I’m going back to San Diego to run my practice and be with Thorn. That’s my decision and I’m so happy about it.” She turned to go, and he stopped her with a soft touch to her arm.
“Give me some time, Alyssa.” He paused and rubbed his hands over his face. “I guess I was so devastated by your brother’s death, I just pushed everything I had hoped for him onto you. Over time it got lost in the mix and I started to believe that you wanted the same things.”
“You take your time. We both need that. We’ll talk again,” she said.
“Oh, Alyssa.” He embraced her, squeezing her tight. “I’m so proud of you for all your accomplishments. I think you’ve proven your brother’s shoes never really fit you. They were too small.” He cupped her chin and said. “Go find your tattooed hunk.
Six hours later, she was back home. Home where she belonged. She resigned her commission and went to the clinic to find Jordan. Tank hadn’t answered any of her calls. When she spied Jordan, she rushed at him, and he stepped back at her enthusiasm.
“Where’s Tank?”
“He’s deployed. He’s due back in an hour.”
She kissed him on the cheek and laughed. “Thank you.”
She made the airfield in record time and paced until the C-130 carrying her man landed. With other family members, she went onto the tarmac. She recognized Ruckus’s wife Dana and Kid’s wife Paige. Cowboy’s fiancée was also there.
The sound of hydraulics filled the air, drowning out the zoom of planes landing and taking off and the general chatter of the people waiting for their husband, dad, significant other. The rest of the world fell away when she saw him deplane and walk toward her on the tarmac.
Thorn “Tank” Hunt. Her future.
Another dead end in the ever-vigilant search for Blue. Even the careful inquiries to the Kirikhanistan government were frustrating. He hated diplomacy. He did his politics from the business end of his weapon.
