A SEAL at Heart

by Anne Elizabeth

  Gich sighed. “Christ! Laurie, you’re too intuitive for your own good.” He scratched his mustache, smoothing the corners into place, and then spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “Jack got slammed for seeing a physical therapist outside of the military medical system. He was ordered not to talk to you again. Of course, that dumbass wasn’t using his brain. He could have found another method for getting a message to you. All that’s beside the point now. Of course, I talked to him.” He paused to watch her. When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “He cares about you. Laurie. He’s not perfect, but he’s a good guy.”

  She’d been chewing the edge of her lip as Gich spoke. She looked at her clasped hands. The fingers were white-knuckled from being squeezed so hard and she unknotted them. Flexing her hands to get some blood back into them, she stared out the window.

  Hundreds of thoughts swirled in her head. Her greatest hope had just been fulfilled. She was important to Jack and another factor had kept them apart. Yet she felt disconnected, empty. Had so much emotion passed that she could not rally even a little bit of excitement?

  Straightening her shoulders and adding some steel to her backbone, she looked at Gich. “Are you here with an olive branch to start a peace treaty between Jack and me?”

  His eyes traveled up and down her and then focused on her gaze. “Fuck, no!”

  “Then, what are you doing here, Gich?”

  “I’m a parent, caring for his child, and I’m sharing a message that should have been conveyed six weeks ago.” He watched her. He had this way of doing it that made her feel like a monkey in a zoo.

  “What do you want me to say?” She needed more information. She was a little perturbed that Gich seemed to be on Jack’s side right now. Her foot began tapping, a surefire sign that her temper was coming into play.

  “That you’ll judge the situation with a logical mind and not with a full head of steam.” Gich stood. Closing the distance between them, he touched her cheek. His eyes were gentle as he spoke. “Laurie, go find out the truth. Whatever you do from there, I support you.”

  He drew her slowly into his arms as if he were deliberately gathering a wild beast, to soothe and calm it. “Getting hurt is one of the ways human beings learn. For example, if this is a learning lesson, what do you want to get out of it?”

  Her words were somewhat muffled against his chest. “Don’t date military men.”

  He lightly smacked her backside. “You can do better. Come on.”

  “Okay, you’re right.” She rubbed her face against his shirt. The scent of Gich wrapped her in the familiarity of cigars and coffee and home. “Why isn’t this easier? Aren’t the right relationships supposed to just fall into place?”

  “Hell, no! Physically, they are easy. That’s basic chemistry. But you have to be willing to face the tough stuff. Someone who can call you on your shit is more precious than gold, especially if it is mutual.” His explanation hit a home run for her. As much as she hated to admit it, Gich was right. The annoying part was, nine times out of ten, he was correct. Dammit!

  “Got it?” As Gich pushed her back to arm’s length, his large strong hands held firmly to her shoulders.

  “Yeah.” She sniffed.

  “Don’t take too long. Time can build a wall, if you allow it.” He chucked her gently under the chin.

  Her whole life, Gich had encouraged her to see beyond a problem’s emotional impact. He’d asked her to look at the root and to examine life from an instinctual gut sensibility. Teaching her to go toe-to-toe not just with bullies, peers, and men… but also with life itself. How could she do less than he requested?

  “Okay, Papa Gich,” she replied, feeling appeased even if still a wee bit confused, contrite, and still frustrated with Jack. Some of her thinking was clear and had revealed itself in this discussion, though none of it had included an apology from Jack or solutions to what her future path was going to have in it. Her world had gotten significantly more complicated in a short space of time and she needed help.

  Would he marry her? Did she want that? Could she raise a child alone? Yes. But she wanted a father figure in her child’s life. A whole family, so her child would not have to grow up the way she had. And the only father she desired for her child was Jack.

  “I gotta go.” Gich spoke with that signature kindness that had melted her heart for an entire lifetime. He drew her closer one last time, smelling of sweet cigars and his undeniable warmth, and kissed her forehead before releasing her.

  Turning away thoughtfully, he walked slowly to the door. Before he opened it, he said, “Just remember, I’m here if you need me. I’m only a phone call away. Your dad is always here.”

  The emotion was thick in his voice.

  Her throat choked up, too. Without him, her world would have been hell, and she loved him dearly. “I know. Thanks.” Laurie knew she had lucked out by having him in her life. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Great, baby girl.” As the door squeaked open, he paused. “I’m proud of you. I don’t tell you often enough, but I love you, Laurie.” Then he was through the door and walking away.

  The screen door protested as she pushed it wide. “I love you, too, Gich. I’ll always be your Laurie, your baby girl.”

  Cars passed by and the street was empty of pedestrians. In the blink of an eye, Gich had disappeared. Always the stealthy SEAL, and forever the heroic dad, she would appreciate him and love him for all of her life.

  The sound of her cell phone ringing drew her back inside. She allowed the screen door to bang shut, and then scooping up the phone, she answered on the next ring. “Hello. Hello, this is Laurie.”

  “Hi, Laurie. This is Dr. Gainer. We have the results from your blood tests. You’re not pregnant. I believe…” His words droned on as she tried to understand what she was hearing. The rush of blood in her ears and head was so loud, she had to swallow several times to try to calm herself.

  “Dr. Gainer. Can you please repeat that?” Her voice shook and she had to wrap both hands around the phone to keep it positioned to her ear.

  “The blood test was negative. You’re not pregnant. Your hormones are out of sync due to your previous use of the pill. Oftentimes, women who have been on the pill for many years have a rather dramatic reaction once they go off it. If you had let me know ahead of time that you were planning to go off the pill, then I would have suggested you switch to another brand and taper down. Is that what you’d like to do?” He paused.

  She searched her brain, trying to find the right words. “I’ll get back to you.”

  “Fine. In the meantime, I suggest you start back up on the dosage you currently have. This should get your hormone levels back into the proper cycle. If you have any difficulty, let Mary know, and we’ll get you into the office immediately. I see by your records that you should still have a two-month supply.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Her answer felt far away, breathy, and very unsteady. Could he hear that she was freaking out?

  “Good. You’re all set then. Good-bye, Laurie.” Then he hung up.

  Slowly she disconnected the phone and laid it gently on the table next to her. Her legs seemed to lose all of their strength and she sank to the floor. Her body felt boneless.

  Seeing clearly the mess she had made of her personal life, and the stress she had caused herself and her loved ones, filled her with regret.

  Mainly, though, it was the loss of a child that had never been that felt like a dagger in her heart. She knew now she really wanted a child, and to experience the joys of being a mom. This fact was clear for the first time in her life. This was what she truly and desperately wanted for herself and her future.

  Chapter 15

  I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country.

  —Nathan Hale

  A night and day had passed since his talk with Gich. Somewhere in there, the hangover had finally dissipated to a manageable dull throb. Jack liked beer, but he didn’t have a taste for hard liquor. He had no int
erest in developing one, either.

  He locked his apartment door and headed for his Jeep. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he switched on the ignition, turned over the engine, and pulled into traffic. About twenty minutes ago, he’d received a call from Chalmers. Both he and Billings had been moved out of ICU and into a patient ward. They wanted to talk to him.

  Traffic moved slowly. It figured that this would be one of those times that he wanted to zip over the bridge and arrive at his destination quickly, and it wasn’t possible. Patience was his friend. He’d spent days stuck in a hole in a jungle before waiting for the “go” on an attack. Urine and waste had run down his pant leg, and yet he held his position. He’d been lucky that the place he was waiting in stank, because it had covered his own stench.

  Practicing isometrics in the tiny cramped spot and moving slower than an inchworm to drink water or eat a power bar had made him capable of anything. The enemy had been only four yards away and they had not discovered him until the call came and he rose with knife at the ready.

  Sitting in traffic was a piece of cake compared to that experience. His eyes tracked a seagull as it flapped its wings, soaring high. The winged surfer caught a current and sailed for at least half a mile.

  Some of life’s best moments had that “sailing” aspect, an easiness that sat right in the heart and gut. He could list a handful of people who really sat well with him. Chalmers and Billings were on that list. He hoped his buddies were in decent shape. Man, he was really looking forward to seeing those guys.

  The traffic finally let up and his Jeep roared over the bridge and onto the Five. Taking the exit for Balboa Naval Hospital, he drove up the hill and found a parking spot. It felt good to be coming here for a purpose other than group therapy.

  Stepping through the front door of the building, the smell hit him, some kind of heavy-duty institutional cleaner mixed with rubbing alcohol and fear. God, he hated this place! Nonetheless, he hotfooted it past the welcome desk and loads of people asking questions, and took the stairs up to the correct floor. Winding his way through the building, he located the ward. His Teammates were there, and he was going in no matter what! Fuck, he wanted them to be okay!

  Jack took a deep breath and walked inside the room. He spotted Chalmers immediately. Team banter popped out of his mouth like a reflex. “What the hell are you slackers doing sitting on your asses?”

  Chalmers looked up. He was sitting in a chair next to Billings’s bed, and the growing grin on his face was an excellent indication that he was pleased to see Jack. Chalmers’s retort was swift. “It was my turn for ass patrol, want to take over? Hey, Roaker, how’re you doing?”

  “Hell, yes! My ass could stand to grow a little. There’s only muscle back there for the ladies to hold on to,” said Jack, going over to Chalmers and hugging him. The man wrapped his right arm and the stump of his left around Jack and held tight for a long time.

  When they released, Jack nodded at Billings, who was out cold. “How’s he doing?”

  Chalmers shook his head. “I don’t know. Hey, let’s go over to the window, okay? I want to feel the sun, but I don’t want to leave the room in case he wakes up.” There were some bandages around Chalmers’s legs and back, and his ass was hanging out of the back of his gown. The man was moving about with ease, though, which was a good sign.

  They walked less than ten feet to the other side of the room, where the window was opened as wide as it could get. They both stood there, staring out. The silence was comfortable, and the people moving about below looked calm, reassuringly ordinary as they went about their business.

  Jack waited. He knew Chalmers would speak when he was ready, and Jack was not in any rush. His apology to Laurie would have to wait a little longer. Being there for his buddies was enormously important to him. When he was in the hospital, he hadn’t been able to speak to anyone and that had been tough on him, like being cut off from his family, who were also his best friends. It was hard on the psyche.

  Finally Chalmers spoke. “Listen, Peter’s not doing so well. Every time he wakes up, he starts screaming. For now, he’s sedated; they gave him a shot about a half hour ago. Bullets tore up one leg, and he lost a chunk of his calf off the other. He’ll be able to walk with a prosthetic limb and eventually even be able to run again after a lot of therapy. You know, he’s a marathoner? He’ll adapt, because that is our way. The tough part is that his whole world was action and SEAL Team.” The SEAL’s face was grim. “None of us do well when we’re benched.”

  Chalmers didn’t look like he’d slept in a long time, or if he’d had sleep… none of it was peaceful. Most likely Peter was getting him up. His own nightmares were certainly beginning to haunt him. God knew Jack understood that! Maybe he could figure out a way to give him a break.

  “What about you? Is there anything you need?” Jack asked. It was doubtful that Chalmers would ever be deployed again, either. It was the Navy’s loss, too, because these guys were incredible in the field. They had the right attitude, killer reflexes, and were as dependable as the sunrise.

  “All I want is to change the outcome of that Op,” said Chalmers. The makings of a beard had begun on his face, and he scratched it thoughtfully. “Though I could be scoring a lot of pussy this way.” He waved his mangled arm at Jack, and then he sat down in the chair next to his bed. “Listen Jack, I want to thank you for saving my life.”

  “Shit, Chalmers, you don’t need to… Fuck, you would have done the same.” Jack didn’t seek anyone’s gratitude. He just wanted his buddies safe and alive, and he wanted out of this current memory mess.

  “Hell, yeah, I would! Still, let me say it, okay? ’Cause when Billings comes out of this, he’s going to go from screaming to angry before he gets anywhere near acceptance, and I don’t want you to take anything he says to heart or have it kick you in the gut. Eventually, he’ll be glad he’s alive. Maybe doing that marathon crap with him will help. He’ll have an advantage over the guys who have already been doing it in chairs, because his arms are like forty times stronger.” Chalmers took a long deep breath and slowly exhaled. He looked seriously spent. “Fuck, I’ll make it work.”

  “You guys have always been tight,” Jack added, leaning against the edge of the window frame. The air from outside blew gently across his skin, bringing him ease. If he had a choice, he’d spend more of his day outdoors.

  “As you know, Billings kept me from going over the edge when Betty and I divorced, and then when we remarried again. She’s back East with the kids right now, at her parents’ house in Virginia. I told her to stay there until I’m discharged. I want Billings to be in a good place. Hell, I’ll take him back East with me if I have to.” The comment was solemn and sober. Chalmers’s eyes went to Billings’s bed briefly. They were swim buddies and had operated together for many, many years.

  Slowly his eyes tracked back to Jack, and he allowed him to see the acute sorrow, and then it was gone. He’d hide it and so much emotion from the rest of the world, but a Team guy was inner circle.

  Yes, we tell it like it is.

  Chalmers cleared his throat and asked, “How are you doing, without Don?”

  The question hit Jack in the gut. Everyone wanted to know the answer to that horrifically nightmarish question, and yet Chalmers had been the first person to ask it boldly and straight to his face. The rest of the world danced a jig and used leading questions, just expecting him to spill his guts. That would never happen! But one of his brothers asking… well, God bless him. For Chalmers he’d deal with his feelings and slog through it!

  Jack’s throat was clogged with sentiment, but he managed to say, “How do I feel? It fucking sucks! There aren’t enough swear words in existence…” Shaking his head, Jack couldn’t push the horrible feelings away. “I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.” Jack realized what he said, and then laughed. Would his buddy take offense? “Shit, Chalmers! I’m sorry…”

  Waving his stump at Jack, Chalmers gave a short burst of laught
er. “No worries. If I can’t joke about it, I’m screwed! As to Don… yeah, I get it. Fucking crazy.” Keeping this light, he grabbed his cock through the thin hospital gown. “At least I can still make love to my wife. At the end of the hall are the guys who have to use bags to crap. Man, I’m not ready for that stuff.”

  Chalmers punched Jack lightly in the leg. “Lighten up, Roaker.” Humor and seriousness danced together in his eyes. “I want your oath, if it ever gets that bad, just take Billings and me out to the desert and leave us alone with some C-4. Got it?”

  All three of them were Explosive Ordinance Disposal. It was pretty rare to be both EOD and a SEAL, and there were only a handful of those guys in the Teams. Each of them even had their own stashes, not that they’d share that info with anyone else.

  “I promise, Bill.” Jack didn’t give his word lightly. He’d give his life to keep it. The men shook hands. Then Jack said, “For me, I’d rather my chute didn’t open on a free fall.” Jack leaned in. “It’d be a death with a great view.”

  “Are you fucking nuts? What if you just break some bones and really bang your shit up without doing yourself in? Hell no.” Chalmers’s eyes were point-blank earnest behind the joking. Jack knew what he was asking. He would want someone to do the same, if he couldn’t do it himself. All of them were a long way off from that destination. There was a lot of life still surging through each one of them. The Teams made sure guys who had been injured understood that they continued to be an important part of the Navy. Unfortunately, it would take some time for those two to get back to work.

  “Ah, man, I just realized, they’re going to make you do group therapy. I feel for you,” said Jack, kicking Chalmer’s foot.

  “Motherfucker, I hate that shit! You got any e-x-p-l-o-s-i-v-e-s in your Jeep?” Chalmers winked at him.

  “Sorry, man. Fresh out.” Jack grinned. In truth, he had a few guns and a bunch of ammo in locked boxes as well as some knives under his seats. Made him feel better, to be armed or at the very least prepared for an emergency. “Hey, uh, have Seeley and Pickens been here?”