by Anthology
“Emily, I’m not going to come to port and shop for some random guy,” I exclaim with a laugh. “First of all, my luck is far too bad to cast my fate to the wind like that. Secondly, I’m too much of a lady to go trolling through Craigslist ads like some lonely-hearts mail order bride. Can you imagine the type of guy who goes trolling for a sailor? They’re looking for somebody, but I’ll bet you it’s not me. I’m probably a little too straightforward, in-your-face and take no prisoners. I look cute and all that, but I’m far too scarred by life to fit to be who they’re looking for. I don’t think we’re going to have much chance to socialize with the guys in town, anyway. Aren’t we scheduled to stay with some nuns at a Catholic girls’ school?”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard too. However, I also heard they had to close it for winter break to repair the pipes. It’s probably no big deal. The program always finds new families to host us — the waiting list is a mile long. Although, did I tell you about the ship I was on a couple years ago? This one sailor found his birth family on one of the holiday visits. It was purely accidental, but very cool, nonetheless.”
“I haven’t heard anything about any broken water pipes. Maybe that was just a rumor. Who knows?”
At the moment, the CO arrives on deck. He abruptly points to me and says, “John, you’re up. Ride’s here.”
Dropping my salute, I asked him, “Dodson too?”
“Nope. Just you. It’s your family.”
My stomach drops down to my feet — it’s all I can do not to pass out. I try to school my thoughts so that I don’t betray all the emotions rolling through my mind. I’ve been in the Navy for six years. I should be beyond this, but I can’t help my visceral reaction. I try to take a deep breath and let it out through my nose before I evenly say, “Sir, I have no family.”
“Duly noted. I read your file. The host family went through a heightened level of security as a result. Everything checks out.”
“I appreciate that, Sir, thank you.”
“Enjoy your holiday, John. It’s beautiful in Portland this time of year.”
Chapter 3
Sam
I’VE BEEN ANTSY ALL DAY. I was really surprised when they selected my name to host a sailor. I figured that they would choose a more traditional family, but perhaps they chose me because of my dad. I remember my dad telling me stories about his time on leave when he got to spend it with different families. Back in those days, they got to spend a lot of their liberty days with different families. The security precautions were a little more lax prior to the terrorist bombing on September 11th. It was on one of those liberties during Fleet Week that my dad met my mom. He was assigned to a family and became really good friends with a guy. They became pen pals. The guy kept hassling my dad to meet his sister. As a soldier, my dad was really used to that and resisted his friend’s efforts. During the second Fleet Week he spent with the host family, she came home from college and my dad pretty much fell in love on the spot. The rest, as they say, is history.
My dad always talked about wanting to host families after he retires from the military, but he and my mom can’t agree on how to handle life when he retires, so I’m not sure they’re ever going to get around to it. I am really looking forward to meeting the guy they assigned to me and honoring the family legacy of respecting the soldiers who serve. My dad doesn’t really share much about the time that he spent in the Navy. It’ll be really interesting to hear what life was like for him as a sailor. I think my dad is really disappointed that because of my birth defect, I can’t carry on the family tradition of being in the military. I think we missed out on a really important bonding experience.
Unfortunately, I can’t get to the area where they are having the rest of the families wait because my scooter won’t go there and it’s too far for me to walk with my crutches. The organizers of the program have asked me to wait in another area. I’m too nervous to mess around with my cell phone to make it look like I’m doing something productive. When I’m nervous or anxious, my muscles tend to get more spastic, which makes it harder for me to do things that require fine motor control. Instead, I sit and stare out at the harbor and watch the birds fly on and off the docks. It’s cold outside, but not bad for December in Oregon — it could be worse.
The big, heavy, metal door opens behind me and I turn around as an officer announces, “Samuel Taylor, thank you so much for opening your home to Petty Officer John.”
I have to consciously remember to lift my jaw off the ground when I see who it is. By the look on her face, she seems just as surprised as I am. She quickly collects herself and responds, “We are already pretty well acquainted, Senior Chief.”
The officer looks at his watch. “Very well then, I’m late to a briefing. Be back at 1800 hours on the third of January. Conduct becoming, John. Remember that.”
She salutes him smartly as she replies, “Yes, Senior Chief. Message received. Have a good holiday, Sir.”
As the door shuts behind her commanding officer with a resounding clank, Officer John looks as nervous as I feel — that is a feat all in itself. I’m pretty sure she can see me trembling. I’m jerking like some deranged marionette. Sometimes I really hate the fact that my cerebral palsy amplifies every emotion and nervous twitch I feel. When I played out all the scenarios that I thought could occur today, this was not one of them. I figured that they would assign me a geeky single guy who was into computers and studies the ocean bottom or maps or something similar.
The silence is growing awkward, so I start with the obvious, “I have to ask — John?”
Her low husky laugh is like a breeze through a wheat field on a late summer day. “I guess you could say my dad really wanted a boy. The whole thing is only slightly less egregious — Taylor Samantha John.
Everything becomes clear as I remember the paperwork I saw on the organizer’s desk. “Oh, that’s why they had you down as John Taylor. They probably thought you were related to me. Believe it or not, my name is Sam John Taylor — actually my full name is Samuel Jonathan Taylor. When I started talking and it became clear that it was going to take me forever to get all of the syllables out, they just decided to shorten it to Sam John. My dad’s name is Sam too, so they frequently include my middle name just to keep it all straight,” I have to catch my breath after saying all that. It takes a massive amount of concentration for me to be able to talk this much. I wait to see what her reaction is. She didn’t seem to notice much the first time we met, but the circumstances were really strange that day so I didn’t know what to think about it. It was loud and chaotic out there. Perhaps she didn’t hear me or she wasn’t really paying attention.
As I watch her try to untangle my words, she doesn’t appear to be put off or unsettled. She just grins as she replies, “You probably have the same issue with your first and last name as I do. Did you hate it in school when they couldn’t figure out which was your first name and your last?”
“Did you really catch all that or are you just being polite? I usually have to repeat things three or four times when I’m talking to new people,” I explain, unable to curb my curiosity over her unusual reaction.
Now she shoots me a look of total confusion as she replies, “I’m sorry… did you just tell me to be rude to you? I can handle it that way, if that’s what you really want. I’d rather not, because I understand you just fine. Compared to my grandma, your speech is crystal-clear. She had a stroke when I was about two, so I pretty much don’t remember her talkin’ any other way. She liked to joke that we learned to talk together. She would tell my teachers at school it’s why I have a strange accent.”
“You’re right, I jumped the gun. I guess I can be a little defensive about all this. You’re not exactly what I expected.”
“To be honest, you’re not exactly what I expected either. I was told I was going to stay with a bunch of nuns at a Catholic girls’ school,” she admits.
“I hope you’re not disappointed. Although, I probably will have to change my
plans for the week. I figured I would be getting a guy who was an oceanographer or computer geek like me. I suspect you probably won’t want to veg out watching old episodes of Star Trek and check out ComicCon with me and you’re probably not into playing copious amounts of video games.”
She sighs as she takes her cap off and recoils the hair at the base of her neck. “For the life of me, I will never figure out why guys always think that the only thing that women watch are goofy reality shows and soap operas. Where is it written that because I have ovaries, I can’t like a good TV show? For the record, I tend to lean more toward Firefly, but I’ve been known to go old school and watch some Star Trek. I wouldn’t call myself a Trekkie, but I wouldn’t embarrass you at ComicCon.”
“My apologies. It’s just that in my experience, women like you only exist in my fantasies. Speaking of that, I know this is totally weird and I swear it’s not a come on — but I think I know you. Your voice sounds totally familiar to me.”
“It should. I knocked you down on one of the most embarrassing days of my life and I didn’t have an opportunity to properly apologize or make it right. I still feel bad about that.”
“No, I told you not to worry about that. I didn’t even have any lasting bruises — just the stupid scrapes on my hands. I’m talking about before then. I swear you look familiar to me.”
“I don’t know how that would be possible. You’ve seen me on both of my trips to Portland. I haven’t been here any other time.”
“I probably don’t even know you from here. I haven’t been in Portland long. I’m a newcomer here too. Originally I’m from Tampa.”
I’ve heard the phrase “white as a ghost” before, but until this second, I had never seen it in real life. I thought for a minute that Taylor was going to pass out on the floor right in front of me. I shift in my scooter seat, pull a bottle of water from my messenger bag and hand it to her.
“What’s wrong? Most folks like Florida — you know Mickey and all his pals live there,” I tease, hoping to restore the lighthearted mood.
She sets the water down, untouched, on a desk next to her as she looks at me with her eyes still wide with terror as she asks in a raw, broken voice, “I just need to know how much Reid paid you to do this. For some weird, perverse reason, I’d like to know what my sanity is worth on the open market.”
Chapter 4
Taylor
WHAT IS IT ABOUT BOYS that makes me totally stupid? For a few minutes, I let myself believe that Sam was different. Actually, I had allowed my fantasy about him grow since Fleet Week when I unceremoniously ran him over while I was taking pictures. His response to me was so unusual and polite that I thought, maybe just maybe, I had found a diamond in the rough — the one guy who was completely different from anyone else I have ever encountered. I guess I just have the world’s worst luck with men. There must be something written on my forehead that says, “Pick this one, she’s a pathetic loser.” I have to hand it to Reid; he’s more devious than ever.
My monster of an ex-fiancé would have had to raise his game to unprecedented levels to be able to manipulate the commanding officers and the volunteer program, not to mention the group that I was sightseeing with the first day when I inadvertently ran into Sam. The number of things that would’ve had to go absolutely right to make this happen are truly mind-boggling. I still don’t know how he did it. It’s enough to make me want to throw up. I have sweat pouring off my body from the adrenaline dump. I start to panic as I realize that I don’t have anywhere to stay. My chief is probably in the middle of high-level briefing right now. My personal crisis is not critical enough to interrupt him. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think that my ex-fiancé is waiting back wherever Sam lives. I mentally review all the self-defense moves the Navy has taught me and try to remind myself I’m not the same person I was at nineteen.
I will myself to hold it together, as I realize that Sam is just quietly observing me fall apart right in front of him. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
“Taylor, I’m not trying to be dense here, but I feel like we must be traveling in some weird parallel universe because I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know what I did wrong. All I did was mention that you look familiar to me and that I’m from Tampa. As far as I know, I don’t know anybody named Reid.”
“How do you explain the fact that you know me? Do you expect me to believe it’s all just one coincidence that we both ended up in Portland? It’s just a little spooky that you’re the only guy who ended up with a female sailor and it happens to be me — when I’ve been hiding from my ex-fiancé for years,” I accuse.
“I don’t blame you for being suspicious. If I were in your shoes, I’d feel the same. Even so, I’m about the most boring person that you could ever imagine. I moved to Portland because I got a promotion at Heartbeat of the Rock Jewelry, where I’ve worked since I was about twenty years old and just learning the art of being a gemologist. I basically grew up in the Tampa store. Moving to Portland is pretty much the most adventurous thing I’ve done.”
“The jewelry store,” she mutters to herself half under her breath. “I should’ve known. I don’t know why I didn’t recognize you sooner. You still look pretty much the same. Do you know that you were a perfect stranger to me, but you were the only person to caution me against marrying him? After the break-up, I asked my mom what she thought about it. I was shocked when she admitted that she knew he was a jerk and that it would never last — but she was hoping I would get a big wad of money if we ever got divorced.”
“Wow! I don’t even know your mom, but I think I hate her just a little. I think I remember you now, but you don’t look the same. Didn’t you have blonde hair back then? I remember thinking your hair didn’t really match your eyes.”
“Yeah, he didn’t really like me with dark hair,” I mumble.
“He disagreed with your DNA? That’s pretty narcissistic. Anyway, I recall that your hair wasn’t the only thing that seemed out of place, I remember that your fiancé would completely knock you down verbally and destroy your opinion about anything and everything. I didn’t know you at all, but by the time that ring viewing session was over, it was all I could do to not-so-politely escort him out of my store. I wanted to grab you by the shoulders and ask you what in the world you were doing. You should have never been treated that way. That’s not how real men treat their women, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. I tried to reassure you the best I could that you were beautiful and strong and tell you that you were better than the person you arrived with.”
“If you cared so much about what happened to me, why did you sell me that bogus ring?”
Chapter 5
Sam
“WHAT YOU TALKING ABOUT? THERE was nothing bogus about that ring. In fact, when your fiancé chose that ring, I thought it was ridiculous. He chose one of the most ostentatious rings in the whole store. Yeah, it was valuable but he was missing the whole point, in my mind. It’s not uncommon, but I’m not sure that I had seen someone devalue their fiancée quite as much as yours did. I was actually embarrassed for you.”
“All I can tell you is that when I tried to trade that ring in to get cash to escape from Reid, I took it to three different pawnshops and they all told me it was cosmetic jewelry and not worth anything. I was livid, because I ended up paying the credit card bill for that worthless ring for years. I just got it paid off a few months ago.”
“It’s easy enough to trace. The diamond has a laser inscribed serial number in the stone itself. Every time the stone is sold, the sale is attached to the serial number. In theory, it should work like the VIN number on a car. I know that the diamond that left in that box with you that day was the one that I personally inspected and graded; what happened to that particular stone after that is anybody’s guess. We should be able to pretty reliably rebuild the history of that stone.”
“Wow, I thought diamonds were interchangeable, especially after they had been taken out of their set. Do you
really think we have an opportunity to catch that rotten jerk in yet another lie? At this point, I’m going to choose to believe you over him. I know for a fact that he has done nothing but lie to me throughout our whole relationship. This is just one more shining example of his most prominent personality trait,” she declares in a disgusted tone. “Every time I think Reid Weber can’t stoop any lower, he does.”
“With any luck, he may have conned his way into a corner he can’t get out of this time. I’ll put my loss prevention folks on it on Monday. Technically, I’m off this week for vacation, but we’ll go into the store and file your paperwork. I should be able to retrieve the records from Florida using the corporate database. I know you said you ended up with the payments, but do you remember who filled out the financial paperwork with financing?”
“Hell yes, I remember. I was beyond angry that I had to pay for my own wedding set after he had purported to be this grand romantic. The story was, that his car was in the shop and the car lot had sent it out for detailing and somehow he lost his wallet and was unable to retrieve his credit card, but didn’t discover it until that very moment,” Taylor describes the memory with distain. “He promised to come back to the store and fix the account the next day, which he obviously never did.”
“What a prince. Just so you know, we’re not all like that. I don’t know if I can do anything, but I’ll certainly try. No one deserves to be treated like that. I hope we can nail this guy. In the meantime, welcome back on land — I can’t wait to get you back to Portland and show you around the City of Roses — so, what can I do to start things off on a more pleasant note?” I ask, brushing my hands together as if dismissing the whole nasty topic of her ex-fiancé.
