A SEAL at Heart

by Anne Elizabeth

  There were no more words. She just stared at him.

  He had nothing to say to this beautiful child who was shredding his heart. His eyes darted back and forth over the sand as his mind searched for an appropriate response, something he could push past the knot in his throat.

  A shadow fell over them, blocking the sunlight. If only it would rain and save him from this moment.

  “Hi Jack.” The soft, dulcet voice of Don’s wife brought gooseflesh flying up the skin on his back. He craned his neck to see her face. The sun outlined her body, making her look ethereal. Her skin was clear and creamy, and there was only a smudge of darkness under her eyes. She was such a gorgeous woman, made even more beautiful by the bulge of her pregnant belly.

  “Hi. I’m sorry I haven’t been by. There have been a few complications that I needed… to take care of and—”

  “Don’t. No excuses. Whenever you’re ready, we’re here. Kona, it’s time to go home and get ready for school.” The wife of his swim buddy and the best friend he’d had in this lifetime extended an open hand to her daughter, and the little girl obediently stood. The link between them was palpable.

  Dumping the sand out of her bucket and placing the empty shovel inside, Kona grabbed the handle with one hand and reached for her mother’s hand with the other. Sheila looked at Jack for a few seconds, and then she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  The wet smack felt hot on his skin as if he’d been branded. He swallowed the pain of emotion down deep inside of him. “Bye, Kona. Have a good day at school.”

  “I will, Uncle Jack. Come see me soon.” Her little girl voice was soft. “I miss you, too, Uncle Jack.”

  He nodded. A fixture in this child’s life from the day she’d been born, Jack hadn’t considered that he had taken himself away from her. The want to be there, for her and her mother, was raw inside of him. “I’ll come see you soon. I promise.”

  “I’m packing. We have four and a half more months before we need to be out of the house.” Sheila said firmly. In other words, Get your ass over before we go! If Kona hadn’t been there, would she have said it… called him on his avoidance?

  “Where are you moving to?” asked Jack. Shit! He hadn’t considered that regulation that they would have to leave the base after Don’s death. The idea of them going was too final—they were part of him, too. “You could have my place. I’m never there.”

  “That’s kind of you, Jack, but a one-bedroom apartment won’t work for us. We need three bedrooms, with the baby coming. I’m heading back to my parents’ house in Riverside, Connecticut. They’ll help me until I can do it on my own again.”

  Nodding, he stood and looked her in the eye. “I’m sorry to see you go.”

  “I know you are. We are, too.” Sheila started to walk away and then stopped. Turning back to him, she said, “Don’t be a stranger. You’ll always be family to us, Jack, and we want you in our lives now and in the future, too. Got it?”

  “Understood,” he said. Too much emotion came through in that one word and he had to clamp his lips tight so nothing else slipped out. A litany of pain, excuses, and troubles was on the verge of exploding out of him, but none of it was appropriate—this woman had lost her husband and the father of her children. There was no greater pain on the planet, and she had her hands full already. She didn’t need to hold his burden, too. What he needed to do was figure out how to lighten hers as he handled his own.

  ***

  Sitting on Laurie’s office couch while she rummaged around in her desk drawer was not how he’d visualized his day. Tough luck! He’d made his decision when he’d seen that child on the beach. Whatever it took to find the answers, he would do it.

  This sexy lady might be his best bet. “Laurie, can you run through what we’re going to do?”

  “I found it.” Holding up a somewhat crushed chart, Laurie’s smile said it all. “This is a chart on neurological physical therapy. It’s perfect for what we need to do.”

  “Which is?” Jack wanted to do this right. He didn’t want to flip out on her the way he had with the tapping. Okay, get frustrated and angry with her might be a bit more accurate.

  “Get you to relax and let go. Basically, this involves your head, neck, and shoulders. As I massage a specific quadrant, it helps you let go of tension, frustration, mental blocks, and so much more. If there is a problem associated with an area, it surfaces and you should be able to vocalize it. So, are you game? Speak now or…”

  “Yes, yes,” he waved his hand and stood. “How do you want me to lie on the massage table? Should I get naked?”

  “Hell, no, that would be more of a distraction, right now.” She grinned at him. “Don’t look so disappointed. Just take off your shirt and sit in the massage chair. Your face goes on the paper O.”

  She stretched her fingers as he sat down. “All that is required of you is for you to pay attention to my fingers, where they are and what they’re doing.”

  “I could say the same thing,” he teased.

  “Jack, hush up! Do you want to do this or not?” she chided.

  “Yes, sorry,” he said somewhat contritely. “How can a man complain about being rubbed?”

  “Good grief! Let’s get started.” Her fingers dipped in a small clay bowl warming over a candle. It was a mixture of rosemary and lavender oil—for memory and stress relief—and then she placed her dripping fingers at the base of his neck. Slowly she rubbed the warmed oil in small circles.

  “Mmmmm…”

  She felt the muscles of his neck give, relaxing by inches. Tightness melted into supple, pliable flesh beneath her fingers as she moved upward to the base of his skull.

  “Tell me the first thing that comes to mind,” she whispered next to his ear.

  “Besides having sex with you?”

  “Be serious, Jack,” she chided. “Come on. Now, if anything pops into your mind as I work over spots, let me know, okay?”

  “Sure.” He sighed. “I guess. Could you make triangles instead of circles?”

  “Jack, you’re a pain.”

  “You have no idea,” he said with a soft chuckle.

  “I want you to do those neck and shoulder exercises—three sets of each—today, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’ll help you with blood flow and movement.” Her fingers moved over his skull, rubbing, pressing, and invoking. They asked questions of him as they gently prodded the areas near his scars… and yet no words came.

  Laurie glanced at the clock on her desk, almost the top of the hour. She’d been at it for nearly forty minutes, with no tangible results.

  “Jack, it happens to everyone. Don’t worry about it.” She was discouraged, but she didn’t want Jack to know. He’d responded so quickly to her last session that she expected too much. The SEAL psyche was not giving up any of its secrets today.

  “Do you have to say it like that? It’s not like I didn’t perform,” he teased. “Next time.”

  “Sure.” She smiled briefly. “Listen, I’ve got another client in five minutes. Would you like to use my shower and then go out the back?”

  He nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks for, uh, fitting me in.”

  “Get out of here!” she laughed. The man was all puns and bad humor. She watched him leave and then she stripped the paper off the headrest of the chair. Perhaps she was too vested in the outcome. If she let go a little more, maybe it would help. Or was the personal approach the way to go? Whatever it was going to be, she had to switch focus to her next patient.

  ***

  Jack stood beneath the shower, reveling in the pounding hot spray as he reviewed the session. When Laurie touched the small scars on his head, he had felt something. It was foggy, indefinable, and yet hanging there at the edge of his consciousness.

  Turning off the water, he reached for a towel and rubbed it over his body. Securing it at his hips, he entered Laurie’s small apartment and helped himself to a beer. He took a long draw from the bottle and looked
around at Laurie’s personal space.

  Jack had seen her apartment the other night. It was on the small side, yet he liked it.

  A queen-size bed was pushed into one corner and there was a working wood stove with a small woodbin next to it. The kitchen consisted of a single counter along one wall with a medium-size fridge and a small two-burner stove. A television was mounted on the opposite wall, with a beat-up leather couch and a couple of chairs perched in front.

  Stacks of books in milk crates lined the walls in colorful disarray, and piles of movies were on the DVD player, which was balanced on an antique sewing desk. Knitting needles and yarn were stacked in a basket alongside it. A sweater was three-quarters completed with the needles poking out, waiting. Maybe he’d ask her to knit him a gun cozy.

  Grinning, he lay down on the bed. Resting the bottle next to him, he picked up one of the tiny recorders Laurie used for her sessions. He turned it on, placed it next to his beer, and then stretched his arms over his head and closed his eyes. “Hey, Laurie, you’re probably only going to get several hours of my snoring, but I’m giving this alternative stuff a try, so you’ll just have to suffer.”

  Using a trick he’d learned in training to block out the world, he counted one—breathing in through his nose—and two—breathing out through his mouth. Over and over he did it until his breathing steadied and he stopped counting altogether.

  Chapter 6

  A leader is a man who has the ability to get other people to do what they don’t want to do, and like it.

  —Harry S. Truman

  Laurie’s day dragged by at a snail’s pace. She had looked at the clock a hundred times, and she finally admitted to herself that this was one of the rare times she longed to have the workday over. She loved her job, and each client was a personal investment of time, research on his or her case, and careful guidance. Today, though, she was anxious to have the appointments complete so she could prepare for Jack’s session tonight. It had been hard for her to kiss him good-bye and watch him leave just a few hours earlier.

  Funny that she thought of it as a session and not as a lover who needed help. Was she kidding herself about crossing the line between therapy and involvement? Probably, but he definitely needed professional assistance. Brought on by an actual head injury and emotional trauma, acute psychological suppression was nothing to sneeze at. A patient could suffer from the memory block his whole life. The good news was that there were many ways to work with the patient, from the benign to the controversial, but the bad news was that Jack seemed reluctant to take advantage of the team of medical doctors available to him at Balboa. It shouldn’t have surprised her, though, because a SEAL is a different breed of man. This particular one seemed to prefer a hands-on approach.

  Being a SEAL pup, Laurie had a few extra insights on the warrior mentality and additional tricks up her sleeve on how to handle one. She felt certain she could make a difference in Jack’s life. As long as he was game, she would give it her all. Though she wasn’t sure if she would able to keep him from infiltrating her heart. That part made her a little nervous. For her, keeping her emotions solely on the friendship level would be the first and biggest hurdle. Her healer’s spirit drove her to make a positive difference in any wounded individual’s life, but with Jack… He was already pinging her stability.

  “L-L-Laurie,” Clarissa, the young teenager who had come to her for a jaw and neck problem, stuttered. “Do you l-l-like him?”

  “Who?” Laurie asked. She was suddenly jarred out of her mental wanderings by her client’s question.

  Silently, she chastised herself for letting her mind wander while being in a session with a client. Clarissa was one of her cherished favorites, and the teenager’s success had been extraordinary, especially over the past few months. “I’m sorry. I owe you an apology.”

  “N-n-no. It is o-o-okay. I felt that way about a boy o-o-once. His family moved away and I never g-g-got to tell him.” She half smiled and then started speaking rapidly. “I-i-it’s th-th-the m-m-m-man I s-s-saw th-th-the o-o-other d-d-day.”

  “Remember to slow down your speech pattern, especially when you get excited. Pace the words. Count silently in your head, if it helps. I, one-two-three-four, like, one-two-three-four, you, one-two-three-four.” Laurie gave the comment gently, so it wouldn’t sound like a criticism, and then she grinned. “Yeah, it’s him. How did you know?” Reaching across, she laid her hands on the teen’s jaw and slowly worked her fingers over the muscles. It was hard to be serious when the girl was grinning at her.

  As she moved her fingers into the teenager’s hairline, Clarissa said, “He’s a hunk! V-v-very. Handsome. If I were old enough, I w-w-would date him, too.”

  “Clarissa!”

  The teenager pushed Laurie’s hands away. There was only so much interaction a teen was willing to bear. “I’m d-d-done. C-c-can we c-c-call it q-q-quits, p-p-please?”

  “Show me your exercises first.”

  The teen demonstrated the simple jaw, mouth, and tongue exercises, and then moved into the complicated ones. Laurie was proud of her. Clarissa did them with ease.

  “Great job, Clarissa! I’m really proud of all the progress you’ve been making. You are obviously staying loose.” Her compliment made the teenager beam. Laurie wanted her to feel good about herself. She was concerned that this was the only place where positive reinforcement was given. “How do you feel? Is it helping your overall jaw movement as well as your stutter?”

  “Yes. It helps a lot. I’m delightfully delicious and decidedly delighted.” Clarissa had spoken each word perfectly, and both she and Laurie clapped at the well-done pronouncement and the excellent jaw movement.

  “Glad to hear it. Well done, Clarissa! Let’s call this the wrap-up for today. I hope you have a terrific night.” Laurie watched the teenager gather her schoolbooks and purse. “See you next week.”

  “Okay. Don’t be t-t-too s-s-smitten,” she teased.

  “Oh, goodness. I’ll try. Hey, if you need me before our next appointment, you have my cell number.” Down deep, Laurie worried that smitten was the last word the girl would speak for the whole week. Kids could be pretty competitive and very cruel.

  Clarissa’s school guidance counselor was a friend who had asked Laurie to take the case pro bono. Laurie would do anything to help a kid in need and was pleased that the hard work had paid off. Clarissa was finally speaking to her. She had worked with kids who stuttered before, but Clarissa’s issue had at first been complicated by recovery from a broken jaw. She still didn’t talk at school or home, but so far her progress had been astounding.

  “Yes. Bye.” Clarissa waved, opening the door and letting sunlight into the room. Framed by the fuzzy yellow sunlight, she glowed. The halo of light made her look angelic and far too vulnerable. Laurie hoped there was someone special watching out for that sweet girl.

  There’s never a quick fix, Laurie thought. She sat at her desk and let her worries swirl around in her head. Long shadows climbed the corners as the sun slipped away to set on the horizon. Too soon, it was only she, alone and surrounded by four walls.

  Her eyes wandered to the picture of her and her father. They were standing next to her first telescope. The size of it dwarfed her, but her dad would cradle her in his arms as they examined the heavens. All those constellations… He’d whisper the myths into her ear, sharing those special secrets and transporting her imagination to another realm.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to hold on to the precious memory. Slowly, though, it drifted away. The warmth and happiness were replaced by anger and frustration. His neglect and her childhood fears rose momentarily like bile in her throat.

  “Nothing is ever easy with SEALs.” Her words barely rose above a whisper, but they eased the pain like an ill-fitting bandage.

  Turning her attention to the file on the desk, she made a few notes in Clarissa’s file. Nagging doubts taunted the edges of her mind, worries that she wouldn’t be able to fully heal Clarissa or Jack
. They were both so solitary, as if the whole world were a series of grave threats to be faced alone. Jack needs more help than you can give him. Wake up, ducky, and let go of him. She steered her eyes to her little apartment door.

  But what if I’m all either of them has?

  ***

  Someone jumped on the bed, startling Jack out of his dream.

  He swiftly flipped the figure onto its back, pinning down the intruder’s arms to their sides. He opened his eyes wide and stared unknowingly at Laurie’s startled face for a few seconds until recognition dawned. He finally loosened his grip and she wiggled free. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m not used to being surprised when I sleep.”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m good, though. All in one piece.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his worried lips. How had she forgotten that SEALs were loaded weapons and it was better to throw a pillow from the safety of the doorway and duck for cover than it was to try to wake them with a simple touch like a normal human being? Perhaps he’d get used to her presence over time. “Let’s start over. What a lovely surprise to find you in my bed. I am a very lucky Alice.”

  “This is some nice digs, but it isn’t a wonderland. Also, I hate to break it to you, but you’re thinking about Goldilocks.”

  “So, you’re what… a bear?” She laughed. He was too quick for her.

  “Yes, but I’d rather be the wolf. The better to eat you with,” he said, and then he rolled her underneath him. There was something in his eyes, a serious quality that held her attention.

  “What were you dreaming about?” Touching his chin, she rubbed her fingers up his jawline. “Jack, do you remember?”

  “Yes.” He rolled off of her. They lay side by side in silence. The minutes stretched between them until finally he answered. “My childhood.