SEAL Forever

by Anne Elizabeth

  “Good luck on changing them. I’ll help you clean up the gym and put it right,” said Bosco.

  “Thanks,” she said, giving him a nod.

  The two of them were joined by several more staffers and members, and together they righted the equipment, carried out the mats, and gave the spray paint a coat of primer. Maura was exhausted, but the gym looked better by the time they were done.

  “I got my workout today,” said Bosco as a parting comment.

  “Hey, I appreciate the help, Bosco,” she said, wondering how long it would be before she could head home and take a long, hot bath with a large glass of chilled white wine.

  “Uh, could you do me a favor?” Bosco hemmed and hawed, looking embarrassed.

  She put her hand on his arm. “What is it? What can I do to help you?”

  He looked at her with large, doe-like brown eyes. “Be my date tonight? I’d really appreciate it. I have this thing to go to…and…”

  She sighed. “I’m sort of seeing someone…” Not that she had clarified it with Declan, but she did feel loyal to him.

  “We could go as friends, you know. Colleagues, or stuff like that.” Bosco had a whiny tone in his voice.

  She could see how important it was to him. After everything he’d done, she couldn’t deny him. “Fine. Turn left at the last road before Main Street/Beach Street dead ends. I live in the last apartment complex on the beach, the second-to-last apartment on the second floor. Apartment 2B.”

  He dipped his head like he was going to kiss her. “I’ll be there at seven. Thanks, Maura.”

  She pointed a finger at him. “As friends. Just remember.”

  “Sure.” Bosco walked out the door in a hurry.

  Maybe he was worried she’d change her mind. In truth, she probably should. But she owed him, and this seemed like a small favor in return. Besides, she trusted herself. Nothing was going to happen, and everything would probably turn out just right.

  * * *

  What had possessed her to agree to the date tonight? After a whole day of cleaning the gym? Her shoulder was throbbing and all she wanted was a hot bath and a glass of wine. She sighed. A promise was a promise.

  Getting ready was making her nuts. She was on her third coat of mascara, and over half of it was on her cheeks and eyebrows. Dating had never been high on her list of favorite events.

  “I look like a clown on a binge.” She sighed and threw the applicator and its small supply tube into the bathroom trash can. It landed with a thunk and all she could think was Good riddance!

  It wasn’t that she was nervous. The fact was that she’d rather be with Declan right now.

  Picking up a wet washcloth, she scrubbed her face until the black smears were gone. Then she looked in the mirror, shrugged, and put on her sheer lip balm with the hint of pink. Why change how she looked? Her regular makeup routine was perfectly fine.

  Standing back from the reflection, she surveyed her cotton print dress with the tiny white-and-yellow daisies and her matching white flats. The outfit screamed “friends” for sure.

  Brushing out her hair, she tried to pile it on her head with several bobby pins, which sprang out in all directions, looking like lost kittens waving for help. Unraveling that mess, she tried one hair clip. The static from all the hair wrangling made her feel like an electroshock patient.

  Wishing she could do more with her hair, but frustrated beyond belief, she grabbed one of her bulky sun hats and plopped it onto her head. Good enough. She was not a woman who primped. She thought about reinforcing her sore shoulder by going back to wearing the sling for the night, but discarded the idea. She’d be fine.

  Maura picked up her small purse with her wallet, keys, and cell phone and hurried to the front door. Outside waiting was a man most women would call an excellent specimen of the human body, though he was certainly not her type. “Hi there. Sorry I took so long.”

  “Yeah, you look good enough. Unless you want to show more skin.”

  She balked. “No. I’m good.”

  “Okay,” he said as he grabbed her right arm and practically hauled her out of her doorway, slamming the apartment door behind of her. The sound stood her on her toes.

  Walking to the staircase, he was partially lifting her off of the ground with each step. She felt as if she were a lopsided trolley car.

  Fearing for her own safety, she said, “Hold on a minute.” She untangled herself from his grasp, returned to her front door, and locked it before returning to Bosco. “I’d rather walk down in front of you.”

  “Why?” He looked baffled. Did other women like to be pawed like this?

  She smiled patiently up at him, though he was losing brownie points with each and every Neanderthal move. “Uh, why? Well, you can, uh, watch the swooshing of my dress. It’ll be fun.” Oh yeah, like that comment didn’t play into the situation. You’re not helping yourself, Maura.

  He frowned. “What’s a swooshing? Where on the dress do I look?”

  Her mouth was open as she stared at him. Seriously, man! Have I totally chosen a meathead? Please someone come down and help me with this date. I’m in over my head.

  She closed her mouth and didn’t answer him. But she did manage to walk down the stairs unaided. That was a small victory. “So tell me about this party.”

  “It’s an engagement party for my fraternity brother.”

  “Where did you go to college?”

  “MIT. We have meetings out here. A bunch of us landed on this coast.” He straightened the lapel of his shirt and resettled his shoulders in his jacket.

  Holy smokes! Talk about jumping to conclusions. This guy is probably a bona fide genius. She swallowed her shock. “What did you study?”

  “Molecular physics. Lately I spend a lot of time in an experimental lab, and the gym.” He flexed his muscles. “Hey, my biceps like ya, and my delts are digging ya.”

  She smiled at him and knew it fell flat. Ugh! Smart or not, Bosco was definitely not a match for her. This was going to be a long, long, long night.

  Maura climbed into the largest pickup truck she’d ever seen, trying not to flash her underwear to the entire world, and then closed the door. Buckling herself in, she looked longingly at her apartment front door. What she wouldn’t give to be staying home, baking brownies or painting her nails or watching a movie.

  * * *

  “Drink, drink, drink!” shouted the men in various state of preppy uni-dress. Khaki pants, white or pin-striped shirts, and blue or red ties with a navy-blue blazer appeared to be the fraternity uniform, or perhaps that’s what preppy guys wore on semiformal occasions. But as much as she wanted to say they looked nice, their behavior was not the best she’d ever witnessed.

  “Suck it down, you pussy!” shouted Bosco at the groom-to-be, who’d already downed four shots and two beers.

  Maura checked her cell phone. Yep, we’ve only been here forty-five minutes, and I’m ready to bang my head against the wall. She’d politely rejected several drinks, going for the hors d’oeuvres table first. After the cleanup and the long day, she was starved.

  The energy bar she’d eaten for lunch had long since disappeared from her system. Loading her plate with vegetables and dip and grabbing an unsweetened ice tea from the bar, she found a somewhat quiet corner and sat down. It wasn’t long before a woman joined her, a petite redhead with very dark skin and brown eyes. Maura swallowed the morsels in her mouth hastily and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Maura.”

  “Mimsey Blakely,” said the woman briskly. “You can call me Minnie or Mims.” Ironing wrinkles out of her beige linen dress with her fingers, she asked abruptly, “Are you sleeping with Bosco Russo?”

  Maura choked on her own shock. “What? No!”

  “Okay,” said Minnie, uninterested in her now. “I guess we can talk longer then. Just so you know, he is mine. I’m going to
marry him someday.”

  Maura had no idea what to say in return. This tiny woman was blunt.

  “I used to date him,” she sniffed. Minnie took a tissue from her purse. “And I still love him.”

  Was she really crying? Good heavens! Maura leaned in close. “I’m seeing someone. I’m not interested in Bosco in any way. This is…a favor, so he didn’t have to come here alone.” She hated ratting him out, but the woman seemed to need the reassurance.

  “Thanks. I appreciate the info.” Minnie dabbed under eyes and blew her nose. “I was a little sister of his fraternity, and he was two years ahead of me. I worshipped him. Cleaned his room. Washed and folded his laundry. Made his favorite protein drink every day. Do you know what it’s like when you like someone and no matter what you do, you cannot get him out of your mind? Every time he has a new girlfriend, I fall to pieces.”

  Maura listened patiently, indulging in the food, which was surprisingly good. When she could finally squeeze a word in edgewise, she asked, “Why don’t you tell him?”

  “I did, sort of. I moved out here to be close to him. I got a job at the company he works for. I even joined the gym he works out at.” Minnie turned to face her. “That’s where I know you from. I’ve seen you there.”

  “I thought you looked familiar. Stop by the office sometime and say hello.”

  “That guy you’re seeing. Do you love him?” Minnie tapped a finger over her heart. “Does the thought of him keep you up at night?”

  Maura felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Yes. I like him a lot.” She stuffed a piece of broccoli in her mouth and chewed determinedly. Please don’t ask me any more questions.

  “You more than like him,” Minnie said with a grin. She seemed satisfied with Maura’s response. She lifted her drink and toasted Maura. “To unrequited love.”

  Unable to chew and drink at the same time, Maura swallowed the lump, feeling it scrape her throat as it made its way down. Lifting her glass, she smiled weakly at Minnie and then drained the glass, giving her the ideal excuse to get up and leave the table—and thus the conversation—for the rest of the event.

  * * *

  When the highlight of the evening was walking down the street, it was an unfortunate night. Maura was just happy to be away from the loud party.

  Sitting on a bar stool, rubbing her feet, was not how Maura thought she would end her experience with Bosco. Being groped, having drinks spilled on her, and having drunk guys hit on her had pretty much sucked sewage water.

  Maura was glad she’d followed her instincts and walked away from the event. So she’d hoofed it as far as McP’s Pub and then gone in for a stiff belt. The smell of alcohol surrounded her like a heavy perfume.

  A rather handsome older man with a thick muttonchop mustache was behind the bar. He smiled at her, a friendly sort. “What’ll you have?”

  “Whiskey. Something good and old,” she answered, knowing that she might regret it in the morning, and yet there was no way she’d make it home without it. She was too frugal to pay for a cab.

  He raised his eyebrows and then grabbed a bottle from the top shelf. He poured three fingers into a glass and placed it in front of her. “Tough night?”

  She put her shoe back on, picked up the drink, and sipped it, allowing the fiery amber to burn a path down to her gut. Relief flooded her veins, and she looked up at the bartender. “Confusing,” she admitted. “I went out on a date that I didn’t want to go on, just to have something to do.”

  “Nice to meet you, Confusing. I’m Gich.” He shook her hand. “Doesn’t sound like much fun.”

  “It wasn’t,” she agreed. “Strange name for a bartender, Gich.”

  He tossed back a belt of whiskey and came around and sat down next to her. “I’m not a bartender. Just watching the place while Ken hits the head—uh, visits the facilities.”

  She laughed. “Thanks for the good stuff. What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing, until he comes back, that is.” He tipped more whiskey into his own glass and topped hers off. His arms were as thick as tree trunks, and his beefy frame was slightly smaller than Declan’s, yet Gich reminded her of him. “What brings you out tonight? Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

  “I’m not much for visiting bars or clubs.” She tossed back the entire shot. Her throat screamed in protest as she tried to make her lungs work. Finally, she let out a few shallow breaths and coughed.

  “So I see. Though you’re obviously changing that tonight.” He went to pour her another shot, but she covered the glass.

  “Water, please.”

  He signaled to one of the passing waitresses, who brought two glasses of water to them.

  After she’d drunk a half of a glass and cooled her throat off, she said, “I’m a social disaster waiting to happen.”

  “How so?” His large hands cupped his water glass, playing with the condensation on the outside. “What are you running from?”

  “Myself.”

  He nodded his head. “Makes sense.”

  “It does?” Maura looked at him curiously. “I often talk before I think, I’m impulsive, and I don’t like being ignored.”

  “Who isn’t, at times? We’re human. No one is perfect. But there’s a trick to understanding emotional action.” He pointed to the spot over her gut and then to her heart. “You have to know the insides of yourself—your gut instinct—before you can do any act of importance. It’s not going to serve your world to just run about haphazardly when you can actually have a definitive direction. Make each action count. Slow down and take your time. Then, when you act, it comes out a logical and instinctual choice rather than a knee-jerk emotional reaction.”

  She smiled. “Good advice. I’ve never heard it explained that way. My coach was a lot like you—steady and stalwart.”

  Gich nodded his head. “What kind of coach?”

  She took another sip. A warm pathway heated toward her tummy. “Gymnastics. I was on the short list to compete in the Olympic trials.”

  “Interesting.” He said the word slowly and without sounding impressed.

  It was the greatest experience of her life, competing at that level. Not that she ever talked about it, or her wish to win Olympic gold. She hadn’t gone down that road with anyone for a long, long time. Here she was opening up, and he all he had to say was “interesting”!

  Her eyes snapped to his. “No, it’s not just interesting. It was my everything!”

  He lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips, took a long sip, and said, “Tell me about it.”

  Man, I seriously unloaded. Poor guy! But Gich took it all in stride.

  The night ended in a friendly manner. It was what she had hoped the date with Bosco would be, and yet it was Gich who walked her all the way from Coronado to Imperial Beach. They talked companionably the whole way, and she hadn’t realized how much she missed talking in-depth with someone. Declan hadn’t been gone that long, but she was already anxious for his return. She missed the closeness, and if she was being honest, the physical intimacy too.

  Gich, like Declan, had a vibe that reminded her of her family, and he’d been a gentleman the whole time. Never once did Gich sneak a grab or grope her, make unwelcome innuendos, or make her feel weird; instead he kept a comfortable and respectful distance.

  Before he left—grabbing a cab back into town—she’d asked him, “Why is it I can talk to you…like this?”

  “I’m a stranger,” he said and shrugged.

  She grabbed his arm, breaking the unspoken no-contact rule between them. “No, you’re not. You feel familiar to me. Tell me something about yourself, so I understand why I am at ease with you.”

  “Because you don’t want anything from me,” he said bluntly.

  “That’s…that’s true.” She didn’t believe that was the reason. There had to be something else.


  “And you don’t see me as a threat either. So you’re willing to be honest. Personally, I like the fact that you’re on the reserved side. It’s classy.” His cell phone buzzed. He checked it and scratched his chin. “I have to go, my daughter needs me.”

  “Lucky girl, your daughter. Thanks for a nice night, Gich.” She gave him a quick hug.

  “Hey, I’m around, if you want to talk again. Just come to McP’s.” As he reached the bottom of the staircase, he said, “Don’t be too hard on Swifton. He’s a good guy.”

  “How…how did you know about my neighbor Declan?”

  “I’m retired from the Teams. I keep in touch with Teammates that come through my life. When I saw where you lived, I put two and two together.” He pointed to Declan’s door. “Him, I know very well. He’s a good guy. One of the best I know.”

  Her mouth was open wide enough to catch fireflies, and she couldn’t say a single word. She watched Gich walk down the street and hail a cab before going into her apartment, closing and bolting the door, and then picking up Declan’s letter. The edges were so worn from reading it that she held it gently. Her eyes scanned over the few brief lines, and then she put it back in its place of honor on her bookshelf.

  Stripping out of her clothes, she pulled on her worn white cotton nightgown and robe and walked to the window, where she could watch the ocean waves coming up the shore. She unbolted the balcony door and the ocean wind blew hastily in.

  It’s a good night for kite flying. A memory popped into her mind. A month after she moved in, she had looked out the window and seen Declan show two little boys how to work their kite. The instruction included gaining lift, getting their kite into the air, and making it go higher. This wasn’t a few minutes of instruction; he spent hours showing them different techniques to make it move. That’s when it happened, she thought. That’s when I started to fall in love with you.

  Her skin prickled with gooseflesh as she fought the wind and was finally able to close and lock the door. Then she lay down on her couch and listened to the wind battering the furniture outside. It might get a little scratched up, but it would survive. Like her, it was made of sterner stuff.