Better Late Than Never

by Diva D. Wood

  “Awesome. She will be pleased.”

  “Well, we exist to please her, so I’m glad.” Landon bit into a pretzel as he glanced up at the TV set. Highlights from that night’s Padre game were just coming on SportsCenter.

  “So, when’s the wedding?”

  “What? Are you nuts? Never mind. We already know the answer to that. And in response to your question, we’re light-years away from that, if ever.”

  “It will happen,” Joe said.

  “Is that part of the queen’s plan as well?”

  “Not especially. But she would not be displeased with such an outcome.”

  “Maybe some day,” Landon said. “I have to admit, I’ve been a bit surprised—pleasantly so—by how easily we’ve seemed to pick up where we left off after twenty-five years.”

  “That’s a sign, Landon. Heed it.”

  “A sign of what?”

  “That maybe this is destiny working its magic.”

  “Maybe,” Landon said tentatively. “Obviously, there’s been some reason for my vow of celibacy over the years.”

  “How long have we known each other, Landon?”

  “Since kindergarten. Pop Warner football. Little League. Cub Scouts. The whole nine yards.”

  “I know you like a brother. And I love you like a brother. You know that, right?”

  “Of course. I’ve always felt the same about you. My brother from another mother.”

  Joe smiled. “All this nefarious scheming has been with your best interests in mind.”

  “My best interests,” Landon repeated. “Like you’re my freaking guardian or something?”

  “Haven’t I always been?”

  “True that,” Landon agreed. “In more ways than one, my friend.”

  “When your pansy, public affairs, desk-riding ass was puking your guts out and about to wash out of BUD/S, who put his boot in your ass and got you through?”

  “You did.”

  “And who’s saved your ass too many times to count over the years?”

  “You.”

  “Then trust me when I say that I only signed on for this mission because I thought it was what’s best for you,” Joe said as the waitress slapped two Coronas and a menu on the table.

  “Go on.”

  “You’ve been alone too long, Landon. I know the Teams have been your surrogate family.”

  “Who else did I have?” Landon asked. “My dad was a non-factor. My mom died when I was at the academy. I needed something. The Navy was it. I’ve never needed anything else.”

  “Now you have something else,” Joe observed.

  “Maybe.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Okay, Joe,” Landon said with a mock sigh. “Definitely.” Landon wished Joe would change the subject.

  “Neither of us is getting any younger, Landon.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Joe took a long swig of his Corona. “I’m seriously thinking about retiring.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. I’m tired, and I’m old.”

  “You’re the best damn SEAL in the Teams, Joe. You run circles around guys half your fucking age. You’re still at the top of your game.”

  “Which would be a good time to go.”

  Landon didn’t know what to say. “I guess.”

  “It’s time,” Joe said. “I’ve decided this next deployment will be my last. I’m going to start the paperwork as soon as we get home.”

  “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like ‘thinking about retiring’. That sounds like a mind made up.”

  Joe smiled. “I’ve never been so sure of anything, short of marrying Danita. I have three great kids who barely know me. I need to change that while there’s still time.”

  “Bullshit, Joe. Those kids worship the ground you walk on.”

  “I’ve missed birthdays, too many Christmases to count, first dates, baseball games, football games, Daddy-Daughter dances, dance recitals. You name it, I’ve missed it.” Joe was blinking back tears.

  “They understand, Joe. I’m sure of it. As does Danita.”

  “Do they really?”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “I hope so.”

  The waitress was back to take their order.

  “Fifty Three-Mile Island wings and a side order of mozzarella sticks with marinara,” Joe said.

  She jotted down the order and was off with a flirtatious smile that both men ignored.

  “So,” Landon said after a long pull from his beer, “What does Joe Mawhorter’s retired life look like?”

  “A whole lot of nothing for a while. Then something working with kids. Teaching or coaching perhaps. I’ve got a plan. It’s just a matter of putting it in motion.”

  “Me too. Someday.”

  “You’re full of shit—as usual,” Joe said with a bemused smile. “You don’t plan beyond your next meal, and you know it.”

  Landon grinned, unable to contest his longtime friend’s point. “You’ve got me there,” he confessed. “I have all I need and want for now in you, my buddies, and the Teams. As for Desiree and our future, I’ll cross that particular bridge when I get to it. Someday.”

  “Maybe your someday is coming too, Landon.”

  “How so?”

  “Your priorities are fixing to change in a big way, my friend.”

  “Maybe,” Landon said softly. “Again, I’m not sure where this thing with Desiree is going, if anywhere. Maybe she just wanted one weekend of passion to remind herself what she gave up.”

  “That’s horseshit, Landon, and you damn well know it.”

  Whoa, Landon thought. Sound the retreat. “Okay, okay.”

  The wings arrived, and both men ate in silence and stared at the TV on the wall for a long while.

  “So what do you have planned for the rest of leave?” Joe asked as he polished off the last wing.

  “Not much. A lot of nothing. Work out at the gym on base here and there. Hang out. Do laundry. Work on my journal.”

  “Boring bachelor shit, in other words.”

  “If that’s how you choose to characterize it.”

  “I bet you could turn that journal into at least a couple of bestsellers one of these days.”

  “No doubt,” Landon agreed. “Most of the stuff in there is personal. But there’s plenty of juicy shit in there too. Maybe one day when it gets declassified.”

  “Some of it probably is already. Will I be part of it?”

  “Nah, not at all. Only on every freaking page.”

  Joe smiled. His phone buzzed. “Don’t even have to check it. Ready to roll?”

  “You bet,” Landon said with one last swig of his second Corona of the night. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 12

  Desiree and Danita were on their third glass of wine and halfway through Waiting to Exhale when Danita picked up her cellphone.

  Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap went the keyboard on Danita’s smartphone as she painstakingly typed out a text message to her husband.

  “Time to yank the leash a bit, Danita?” Desiree kidded her friend.

  “Oh, hush, girlfriend,” Danita replied, laughing. “I just want to know what time to expect them. The game should just be ending. I imagine they’ll grab something to eat and then come home.”

  Come home. Desiree strained to remember a day when she looked forward to her man coming home. She couldn’t do it. “Must be nice,” she said with a sigh.

  “What?”

  “Having something to look forward to.”

  “Oh, girlfriend,” Danita said, shaking her head as she put the phone on the coffee table. “Your life isn’t all that bad, now, is it?”

  “No, I guess not. I just wish… Aww, never mind.”

  “What do you wish?” Danita asked.

  “I wish I had someone coming home to me.”

  “You do.”

  “You know what I mean. Every night, not just tonight.”

  “We’re all working really hard to change
that, Dez. Be patient. Good things come to those who wait.”

  “Patience is not my strong suit.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  The two women returned their attention to the movie, where Bernadine, Gloria, Robin, and Savannah were having yet another wine-fueled gripe session about their men—or the lack thereof.

  “Stupid women,” Danita observed. “Sitting around all those years waiting for a black man to be a man. Holding their breath waiting for something that’s never going to happen—” She stopped mid-sentence. “Sorry, girlfriend.”

  Desiree smiled. “No worries. It’s all good.”

  “They should have found themselves a good man first, and not been so damn hung up on color.”

  “True that.”

  Danita raised her glass. “To lessons learned the hard way.”

  “To lessons learned the hard way,” Desiree repeated, then downed her glass of wine in a single gulp.

  Danita’s phone buzzed twice, even more loudly than usual since it was lying on the glass coffee table. She pressed pause on the remote and then hit the message button on her phone. “The boys are on their way home.”

  “Good,” Desiree said. “And hopefully not too impaired.”

  “No worries,” Danita said. “They took the trolley, remember? The station is two blocks from here. And our men can more than handle themselves on the mean streets of Chula Vista after dark.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Desiree said.

  “They’ll be home in about an hour, hour and a half tops, depending on which trolley they catch. More than enough time to finish off the wine and the movie.”

  “Looks like we’re the ones who need to worry about being inebriated,” Desiree said with a giggle.

  “Nah,” Danita said. “We’re not drunk. We’re just buzzed.” She hit play on the remote, and the movie resumed.

  * * * *

  Desiree and Danita were both feeling a little tipsy by the time Joe and Landon walked in a few minutes before one AM.

  “How many bottles of wine is that tonight?” Joe asked, kissing Danita on the cheek and gesturing toward the empty bottle on the coffee table.

  “Just two,” Danita replied. “We’re nowhere near drunk. Just buzzed. What about you guys?”

  “One beer at the game and another at the Tilted Kilt afterward. We know the drill.”

  “Good boys,” Danita said, hugging Landon. “We missed you guys. So what’s the plan now?”

  “No need to go to bed early since Landon and I are still on leave. Let’s just continue the party—”

  Joe was interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone, which blared he and Landon’s least favorite ringtone: The Imperial March.

  “Or not,” Joe said with a frown. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped outside.

  “Shit,” Landon said softly.

  “What?” Desiree asked.

  “That ringtone means playtime is over and it’s time to go to work.”

  “Oh.” Desiree didn’t like the sound of that at all. An uneasy feeling began to form in her stomach.

  Joe was back. “Let’s roll, Landon.”

  “Right now?”

  “No, sunshine. O-dark-thirty. Of course right now. We aren’t allowed to keep our rich uncle waiting.”

  Landon turned to Desiree. “Sorry, babe. Duty calls.” He hugged her tightly.

  “When will you guys be back?”

  “When the mission is over.”

  The knot was growing, and suddenly, Desiree was scared shitless. “Come back to me, okay?” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t find you again after all these years just to lose you to the war.”

  “I’ll do my best, beautiful.” Landon turned to Joe, who had gathered his sea bag from the bedroom. “My stuff is in my locker at the team room.”

  “That’s where we’re headed first anyway. Let’s roll.” Joe hugged Danita for a long moment. His wife was also trying to hold back the tears, and failing miserably.

  “Be safe, boo,” Danita said in a shaking voice.

  “Always.” Joe winked.

  With twin brave looks and waves, and a quiet but firm closing of the front door, the two SEALs were gone—one with the night.

  Desiree embraced her friend tightly. “Is it always like this?”

  “Always,” Danita replied softly. “For almost twenty years our lives have been dictated by the fickle whims of Uncle Sam and his hordes of enemies around the world. That’s what you’re enlisting for here, girlfriend. You up for it? It’s not for everyone.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Danita smiled. “That’s the spirit.”

  “How long do these missions usually last?”

  “It varies.”

  “Spill, girlfriend,” Desiree said, sensing her friend wasn’t telling her the whole story.

  Danita sighed. “SEALs work on a two-year cycle. Eighteen months of training, followed by a six-month deployment.”

  “I see.”

  “They were scheduled to leave for their next deployment at 0600—err, six AM Friday anyway.”

  “I see.” Desiree folded her arms, becoming more annoyed by the second. “And when was this apparently top-secret information going to be shared with me?”

  “That, girlfriend, was my assignment, and I failed,” Danita said, exhaling. “The three of us talked about it beforehand, and we agreed that it would be better if you heard it from me. It was just so hard, after seeing how everything went with you and Landon this weekend. I’m sorry.”

  Desiree shook her head. “So after reconnecting with Landon, I don’t get to see him for six months. That sucks.”

  “It does,” Danita agreed. “But it is what it is. Don’t be mad at Landon, okay? This was my fuckup. Let me make it right.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “You get right on that,” Desiree snapped, her irritation not easing one bit. She moved to the end of the oversized couch and pulled the fleece blanket over her head. “Good night.”

  * * * *

  “So, where we headed that’s so important our superiors moved up our departure by four days?” Landon asked as Joe ignored the speed limit on the nearly empty Coronado Bridge.

  “The ’Stan.”

  “Which one?”

  “The Afghan variety. Rock-solid intel on a high-value target. The new Al-Qaeda Number Two.”

  “Rock-solid intel, huh? Now, there’s an oxymoron,” Landon said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he stared out the passenger side window at the dark, calm, late-night waters of San Diego Bay. “Capture and interrogate, or is this a kill mission?”

  “Not sure yet,” Joe said, his face grim. “I’m guessing we’ll get that information in our briefing just before we leave.”

  “I vote for kill. These bastards never give us anything worth saving their sorry asses for anyway.”

  “I hear you. But that decision is made far above our pay grade, Landon.”

  “I know. I’m just griping. A time-honored military tradition. Shit defying gravity and moving uphill. You know the drill.”

  “You’re allowed, my friend. Let’s just hope for a nice, uneventful final deployment for me. I do believe I’ve earned it.”

  “Roger that, sir.” Landon displayed crossed fingers on both hands.

  Joe smiled, displaying crossed fingers on his right hand.

  “So what is the plan for tonight?” Landon asked. “As if I need to ask.”

  “Gather our shit, muster the platoon, get our briefing from the senior chief, then take our usual uncomfortable-as-fuck seats on a transport set to go wheels-up at 0400.”

  “Works for me,” Landon said. “Actually, it doesn’t. But we have no choice. So let’s get it done and get home. Hopefully, it will be a short six months.”

  Joe smiled. “You get it now, huh? Having something to come home to makes a world of difference, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure does.”

  “Then
let’s rock and roll, my friend.”

  Landon and Joe bumped fists as the truck pulled up to the guard station at the main gate at NAB Coronado.

  Chapter 13

  Three weeks later

  Landon was exhausted. He grabbed his carry-on bag from the overhead bin and waited impatiently as the two college-age males in front of him jabbered on mindlessly about how much fun they were going to have on summer vacation in San Diego.

  Enjoy it while you can, boys, Landon thought sadly.

  Walking through the terminal purposefully, Landon hit the speed-dial for Desiree’s cell number. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Landon! Where are you?”

  “The main concourse at Lindbergh. I just got in. Can you pick me up?”

  “Right now?

  “Yes,” Landon said. He was fighting to keep his emotions in check.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that,” Desiree said. “What’s going on, Landon?”

  Landon exhaled as he sat down on a hard bench near a McDonald’s. “I don’t want to get into it at the moment. We’ll talk about it when you get here, okay? I’ll go to the cellphone lot and meet you there.”

  “All right, baby. I’m on my way.”

  In a bathroom just off the main terminal entrance, Landon splashed cold water on his face, trying in vain to blot out the memories of the just-concluded mission. He stood at the sink for a long moment, staring at his reflection, searching it for answers he knew were not there.

  A bright San Diego day greeted Landon as he exited the terminal and walked briskly and purposefully toward the cellphone lot about a half-mile from the main terminal. He’d be virtually unnoticed there by all the other people waiting for a call to pick up their friend or loved one.

  It was the kind of day San Diegans took for granted—about seventy degrees, not a cloud in the sky, no humidity. Perfect weather for a perfect day in a perfect location.

  Landon barely noticed it.

  * * * *

  “I have to go,” Desiree announced to her business partner, Lakisha. “My man is home.”