Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet)

by Ashby, Heather

  He was the Skylark, king of the skies and the bedroom. He wasn’t going to cry. So he turned to his tried and true therapy.

  Humor.

  “Hey, I finally got the perfect nickname for Hallie. You gotta come back so I can tell you. And you have to come back, you sly dog, so I can kick your ass for not telling me she’s a screamer. Never mind. I wouldn’t tell you either if she was my One. But I guess I owe you a beer—hell, sounds like I owe you a whole keg—so you better bring your sad ass back to the world so I can buy it for you.”

  Then he choked up all over again. “It’s really important to me that you come back for that beer, Bill.” But, once again, humor won out. “Cuz we need Billy Gates Jr. to get born. You know, Cowboy. Billy the Kid?” He smiled through tears that refused to go away, then made a fist and gently touched Philip’s shoulder with it. “All right, gotta run. Hang in there, buddy.”

  Sky turned to Hallie and hugged her, stealing a moment to regain his composure. “Hey, fair winds and all that. For both of you. Just take care of him and remember ‘lavender lace skivvies’ right in his ear.” Then his mouth curved up into his gap-toothed grin before adding, “Okay, Lacey?”

  Fair winds and following seas.

  The sailors’ blessing for good luck. May all the conditions be right for good things to happen on their journey.

  They were going to need it.

  Chapter 32

  Philip was swimming under water and he could not break the surface. He needed air, but no matter how hard he stroked, he couldn’t get any. Everything was murky and brown, or was it green? Like swimming in a bay or was he in the St. Johns River? It was salty like the St. Johns, but very, very salty. He could taste it. And warm. Bathtub warm. Was this the Persian Gulf? He hoped there weren’t any sea snakes if it was.

  The sunlight filtered down, but he couldn’t reach it. And then he saw a distorted face above the water. The person was all wavy and fluid, but then he knew it was Hallie, because he could hear her. Faint and watery. She was calling to him and he tried to respond, but nothing came out. “Come back, Philip, I love you,” she was saying, but he couldn’t. “You can do it. I know you can. You always do everything you put your mind to. I know you can hear me and I know you’re going to come back.”

  He kept trying to tell her he was doing his best.

  And then she was gone again and he just floated, until he heard Sky. Why was Sky talking about beer? There wasn’t any beer at the steel beach picnic. Suddenly his arms and legs stopped working and he started to sink. It gave him the creeps to go deep in this water, if it was the Gulf. All kinds of strange creatures lived here.

  Philip willed himself to kick and stroke, but his body wouldn’t work. He kept sinking, but there didn’t seem to be any bottom. He kept sinking down, down, down. It grew darker and colder. He couldn’t see the streaks of sunlight near the surface anymore. He just kept slipping down in the deep, dark, icy water.

  Suddenly it became light again. Very light. Everywhere. Like being lost in the fog. And someone was talking to him again. It was a woman. Not Hallie—but she was like Hallie, only she had dark eyes. Soulful eyes. “Go back to Hallie,” she said. “She needs you.”

  And then the fog was gone and he was back in the dark, chilly water. This time his arms and legs worked so he breaststroked his way up. He knew it was up by the bubbles. Bubbles always float up. Way off in the distance, he could see it getting lighter.

  He kicked and stroked harder, but he was getting tired. He wasn’t certain he could make it all the way to the light. The water grew cooler again and he didn’t think he had the strength to swim back to the sunlight. Suddenly he felt something lift him. It was the woman with the soulful eyes, pushing him up, lifting him. She swam behind him, helping him, and guiding him. Up. Back to the light.

  It became clearer. No, not clearer. Brighter. It was still fuzzy, like under the St. Johns, but warm like the Gulf. Something blocked the light above him. Something was in the way. Not his ship, but a small boat, with waves slapping against it. The boat rocked ferociously and he sensed a storm around it. There were raindrops pelting the surface above him.

  A hand reached down into the water. He knew it was Hallie by the ring. Wait. This was his sailboat. She was on his sailboat trying to save him. What was his sailboat doing in the Persian Gulf? Philip reached for her hand, but he was too tired. He started to sink again. The woman pushed harder from underneath, until he felt Hallie’s fingertips. But he kept slipping away, sliding back. Down. And the water became so rough, the boat kept rocking and the hand disappeared. The woman pushed him up again until he could finally grasp Hallie’s hand. Maybe she could pull him out of the water now.

  Philip held on for dear life and when he looked up through the water, he could see Hallie’s face now, leaning over, all rippley in the waves. And he could see the sails moving wildly above them in the storm. It was raining hard and the water looked red.

  He heard Hallie say, “Hold on, Philip. I know you can hold on.” So he did. But then she started talking about her skivvies. Was it Wednesday? Did he miss the news?

  “It’s going to be okay. Just hold on. Squeeze my hand, Philip. I know it’s hard to hold on, but squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” So he squeezed it as hard as he could, and Hallie screamed. He was happy he could make her scream, but this wasn’t that kind of scream. It was too loud and it hurt his ears.

  “He squeezed my hand! Oh, hold on, Philip. I love you!”

  He started to sink again, and then he heard a man’s voice, but it wasn’t Sky. Why was Hallie on his sailboat with another man, screaming? Hallie belonged to him. She promised. She gave him her hair. It was in his wallet.

  Hallie was finally allowed to be with Philip again after surgery. The hours had been interminable. The Army medics had balked at first when she answered, “not yet,” to the question of whether or not she was his next of kin. She dug deep and figuring she had nothing to lose, told them the story about the flight and that she’d been ordered to whisper “lavender lace skivvies” into his ear until he came to. Then she added for good measure, “Tell me honestly you have a better plan.” When they stopped laughing, they allowed her into ICU, as long as she promised to invite them to the wedding.

  As next of kin, Philip’s parents had been notified and were on their way to Germany. Oh, they were in for a few surprises, but Hallie didn’t care. All that mattered was bringing Philip back. Once they arrived, they’d all gang up on him. He would have to wake up. There was no way he would be able to resist the three of them.

  She could tell exactly when Captain Amerson’s message had gotten through to the CO of the hospital. Philip was moved to a VIP room, for a general or an admiral, and food and civilian clothing were brought to her. Which was a good thing, because there was no way she was leaving Philip’s side, except for a few quick, discreet visits to check on Trixie and the others.

  It was clear the medics now knew who she was, offering her copies of the overseas American military newspaper, Stars and Stripes, or to turn on CNN for her, but she didn’t want to know about the Blanchard attack. She didn’t need reminders of what had taken place in CDC. Or in the engineer spaces. She didn’t want to be reminded that there had been several deaths. Hallie was in the news business. She knew how the press worked and she only wanted positive vibes in that room. She saw just enough to know her boot camp picture was plastered all over them and that Hallie McCabe was “recovering from shock at an undisclosed location.”

  She couldn’t believe she was saying it, but she was: “Protect me from the fucking press.”

  Hallie picked up Philip’s wallet and again wondered about his glasses. He would need new ones when he woke up. Had to think positively. She made a mental note to email Gina and have her look into it. Surely Philip’s prescription was in his medical record.

  Looking through the wallet, Hallie f
ound pictures of herself and a lock of hair. The golden tendril was sealed in a small plastic bag. In his wallet. Which he always carried close to his body.

  She reached down and fondled the warm ring still around her neck. With her dog tags. She shuddered when she thought that Philip had been right about wearing them. He had needed them. And then she sent up a thank you prayer that she hadn’t needed hers. But that brought back memories, so she put all thoughts of that night and dog tags away.

  In the meantime, Hallie would sit there keeping her demons at bay, holding his hand, and reminding him of everything: A lock of hair, a warm class ring, a fan room, terry cloth bathrobes, and yes, lavender skivvies. And a kiss in the rain, a sailboat, a cowboy hat, a red sky at night and how Sky was going to embarrass them at their wedding and the babies they would make together some day. And how much she loved him.

  Hallie would whisper it all to him. Over and over again.

  Until he came back to her.

  Retired Navy Captain Doug “Spurs” Johnston was exhausted. He’d been traveling with his wife for close to twenty-four hours with only fits and snatches of sleep and dry sandwiches washed down with way too many cups of coffee for sustenance.

  He’d been delighted to discover a car and driver from the hospital waiting for them when they arrived in Landstuhl, Germany. He was not pleased however, when the Military Policeman posted outside Philip’s door patiently explained that the Johnstons were not on the list of persons cleared to enter Philip’s room.

  Just another instance where he did not miss being in the military.

  “Corporal, we’ve just traveled from the States to see our wounded son who is behind that door.” He pulled out his military ID card and added, “We’re his parents for God’s sake. What could possibly be the problem with us entering that room? Why does he need a bodyguard anyway? And why is he in a VIP room? I’m sure there were other wounded brought here from the Blanchard. Are they all getting this treatment? What in hell is going on here, Corporal?”

  The M.P.’s eyes flickered up and down the hall with uncertainty. “I’m not here to protect your son, sir. I’ve been assigned to Miss McCabe.”

  “Who?” both parents said in unison.

  “I’m Miss McCabe’s bodyguard. And I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to enter.”

  Mrs. Johnston stepped up to the plate. “Corporal, my son is in that room and as far as I know he’s in a coma. Now I’m going to walk through that door to be at his side. I will give you thirty seconds to get permission for me to do just that or you’re going to have to shoot me because I am going to enter.”

  “Who’s Miss McCabe?” a confused Doug Johnston asked as the baby-faced M.P.’s walkie-talkie squawked with permission for them to enter. His relief was evident as he stepped aside to allow them in.

  Philip’s mom strode directly to Philip’s side. His dad strode directly to Hallie. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Hallie looked him right in the eye, but walked past him to Philip’s mother and introduced herself.

  “Mrs. Johnston, I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Hallie McCabe and I’ve been watching over Philip for the past two days.”

  “Hallie.” She opened her arms to her. “Philip talked of nothing but Hallie this summer. It’s so good to meet you. Thank you for being here with him.”

  Doug Johnston was still confused and he couldn’t let it drop. “But how did you get here? And why do you need a bodyguard?”

  Hallie glanced at him but continued to avoid his questions. Instead she updated them both on Philip’s condition. “I assume you know Philip suffered a traumatic brain injury in the explosion on Thursday. He’d not regained consciousness by the time we arrived here and they’ve kept him in an induced coma to keep the swelling down. Fortunately he’s been able to breathe on his own, although they’ve got him on oxygen as a precaution. He had surgery right after we arrived to determine the extent of the damage.” She put up her hands in surrender. “I’m sure the doctor can explain that part a lot better than I can. All I know is they repaired and cleaned out some hematomas and contusions or something.”

  Philip’s mother’s hand flew to her chest. Her other hand stroked Philip’s arm.

  Her husband walked to her side and put his arm around her. “It’s alright, Margaret. He’s going to be fine.” Not that he had any idea of how fine his son was going to be, but as far as Spurs Johnston was concerned it’s what a man tells his wife.

  Hallie continued. “They don’t know how the TBI will affect him yet. We won’t know much until he wakes up and they can do tests. But so far all his reactions are good. Anyway, they took him off the sedative this morning so it’s possible he could wake up any time, and he will. I know he will. Talking to him is the best thing we can do. I’ve been talking non-stop.” Her eyes pooled with tears. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s going to be so much better now that he can hear your voices.”

  “Miss McCabe, I still don’t understand why you—”

  “Doug, you will either conduct yourself appropriately or you will leave the room.”

  Damn it, his wife was always doing that. And she was usually right.

  “But Margaret, I don’t get…”

  Hallie glanced over her shoulder toward Philip, then turned back to Doug and answered a little too defensively, “I flew on the Med-Evac flight with him. From the ship.”

  His brow furrowed. “What were you doing on the ship?”

  “Because I’m in the Navy, sir. I’m stationed on the Blanchard. I was on board when the terrorists attacked.”

  “Philip never mentioned you were on his ship. He never even told us you were in the Navy.”

  Hallie looked down and bit her cheek, then turned to him and replied, “He didn’t know—before we left. Look, I’d rather we didn’t get into this now.”

  “He didn’t know? What are you saying?”

  Hallie hesitated, looked at each of Philip’s parents, inhaled deeply, and blew out her breath. Then answered proudly. “I’m a Mass Communications Specialist in the United States Navy. An MC2, sir.”

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “Yup, I’m an everyday, garden variety sailor.”

  “You’re enlisted?” Incredulous. “Why would Philip…? And the Navy sanctions this? What the hell’s going on here?”

  Hallie took two steps forward, breaking into his personal space. She lifted her chin and challenged him with her eyes. “I am in no position to give you parenting advice, Captain Johnston, but I would think that the health of your son and the idea of us working together to bring Philip back to us is a hell of a lot more important right now than who I am, why I’m here, or how I earn my living.”

  Doug took it like a slap to the face. What really pissed him off was that she was right. “Well, of course Philip is the issue here, but—”

  “I have worked my damndest for the past forty-eight hours to ensure that your son is surrounded with positive energy. So if you insist on focusing on negative issues, I must ask you to leave. Sir.”

  How dare she speak to him that way? But his wife’s quiet clapping from Philip’s bedside confirmed that it was two against one. “Touché, Hallie. Go find us some coffee, Doug.”

  He replied, “I’m going to find the CO of the hospital and get to the bottom of this is what I’m going to do.” He walked over to Philip, laid his hand on his forehead, then about-faced and headed toward the door before adding, “And yes, I’ll get coffee too, Margaret.”

  Women.

  Hallie turned to Philip’s mother. She was seated at his bedside, stroking his bald head, while squeezing his hand with the other. “I’m sorry about that Mrs. Johnston. I just didn’t feel his accusations were going to benefit Philip right now.”

  Margaret Johnston continued to stroke her son’s hair. “Don’t give it another thought, Hallie. Of
course Philip’s more important. Doug’s been very upset since we got that call and we’ve barely slept since Friday. But forgive him, please. He’s known for speaking his mind, although he’s usually not quite so rude. I promise you his bark is worse than his bite. I think it’s just his way of dealing with not having any control over this. And it was a little confusing finding you here, but I’m glad you are here with Philip. We just didn’t know you were back in the picture.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. It’s a long story and I’d prefer not to discuss it here. I believe he can hear everything we say and I want to keep the atmosphere as positive as possible.” Hallie paused, no idea why tears were forming in her eyes again. They kept doing that. “Philip always spoke so highly of you and now I can see why. I know he feels your presence.” She paused. “I’ll step outside if you’d like to have some time alone with him.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie. I don’t have anything to say to my son I can’t say in front of you.”

  She turned to him. “Honey, Dad and I are here. We’ve been worried about you, but now I know you’ve been in good hands the entire time. Everything is going to be all right. Just come back to us. And come back to Hallie. I know she needs you.”

  Hallie sat down across from her. Each of them stroked one of Philip’s hands. Hallie held Philip’s left hand with hers. Mrs. Johnston reached across and turned it so she could better see Hallie’s ring. Her face, although etched with concern, blossomed into a tired smile. She continued her one-way conversation with her son.

  “Looks like you found The One. I’m so happy for you. Even Dad’s glad. He just doesn’t know it yet. Didn’t I tell you to be patient and the right woman would come along? Well, it looks like she has. Didn’t I tell you the smart ones would be looking for someone like you?” She chuckled to herself before continuing. “And there’s no question Hallie’s smart. She had your father figured out in a New York minute.”