Better Late Than Never

by Diva D. Wood

  Danita nodded sadly and looked away.

  Shit, Desiree thought ruefully, me and my big mouth.

  “Sorry, ’Nita,” Desiree said softly.

  “Don’t be,” Danita said, embracing her friend. “Don’t spend one second feeling guilty about the fact that Landon came home alive and Joe didn’t. I was in your shoes many times over the years. It’s something you accept and learn to deal with.”

  Desiree nodded.

  Danita exhaled, tears filling her eyes. “You’ve been given a pretty special second chance here, Dez. Don’t fuck it up, okay?”

  Desiree looked down. “I’m trying not to. I hope I haven’t.”

  “You haven’t.” Danita stood, dusted herself off, and gathered her beach gear. “I’m out, girlfriend. Holla at you later, okay?”

  Desiree sighed. Despite their lifelong friendship, she sensed that what they both wanted and needed at that moment was some time to themselves.

  “Okay, Danita. Later, girlfriend.”

  Chapter 26

  Landon sat uneasily in Dr. Perez’s office. It was a few minutes before eight AM as he awaited her arrival anxiously.

  He wasn’t looking forward to this session—the first since the previous night’s blowup with Desiree.

  And despite his intense desire to not talk about it, Landon knew he was going to have to talk about it. He had taken an ‘all-in’ approach to his therapy, and that meant baring all, no matter how painful.

  The door opened and Dr. Perez wheeled herself in. She smiled. “Good morning, Landon.”

  “Good morning, doc.”

  “How are things?”

  “Could be better,” Landon said with a heavy sigh.

  Dr. Perez raised an eyebrow as she wheeled herself closer to the couch where Landon was sitting. She said nothing, obviously waiting for him to expand on his statement.

  Struggling to maintain eye contact, Landon related his latest nightmare and its devastating effect on he and Desiree.

  Dr. Perez listened intently, nodding periodically.

  Landon finished his tale of woe, all of a sudden feeling utterly spent. He hadn’t slept another minute after waking up in Desiree’s bed and then going home to his suddenly not-so-homey-feeling space at Bachelor Officer’s Quarters, NAB Coronado.

  Landon glanced down at his watch. A scant ten minutes of his scheduled fifty-minute session had elapsed. There was a long way to go.

  He exhaled and tried to summon the physical and mental strength he was going to need to get through the rest of the session.

  After a long, awkward silence, Dr. Perez finally spoke. “How do you feel about what happened?”

  “How the fuck do you think I feel?” Landon snapped. “I feel like shit. I feel like a complete failure. I feel like my life is swirling around the bowl.”

  Dr. Perez nodded. “That’s why you’re here, Landon. None of those things are true. But you feel like they are, and that’s a problem. My job is to help you see your worth, to help you through a rough patch, and get you back on track. You’ve been taking care of everybody but yourself for years. It’s time to take care of yourself.”

  Landon smiled. “That’s what my commanding officer said when he referred me to you.”

  “Tell me more about Desiree,” Dr. Perez said. “Do you love her?”

  “I’ve always loved her,” he said. “I fell in love with her the day I met her back in high school.”

  “But she broke your heart.”

  Landon nodded.

  “And you kept loving her all these years, carried that torch, whatever you’d call it.”

  He nodded again.

  “That’s not a kind of love you can give up on.”

  “She gave up on it.”

  “When she was young and immature. She came to see the error of her ways, correct?”

  Landon smiled. “Yes. It took her twenty-five years.”

  “Better late than never, right?”

  “I guess.”

  Dr. Perez leaned back in her chair. “She’s a keeper. I see the way you talk about her, the way your eyes light up. She’s not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

  Landon shrugged. “I’m damaged goods right now, doc. She got a look at my dirty underbelly last night. She’s the one who asked for a break. I just gave her what she wanted.”

  “You might have been a little hasty and impulsive in that, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps.” He looked at his watch again. Only five more minutes had gone by.

  Dr. Perez smiled disapprovingly. “Are you familiar with the phrase ‘a watched pot never boils’?”

  “Yes.”

  “A watched watch never moves.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, doc.”

  “It’s human nature,” Dr. Perez said. “When we’re in an uncomfortable situation, we subconsciously hope for it to end. And that sometimes causes us to manifest that hope in conscious ways.”

  “Thanks for understanding, doc.”

  “You’re welcome, Landon. So where do you think you and Desiree go from here?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I fucked things up big-time. She thinks I’m a crazy vet who’s one step away from losing his shit completely. I scare her. She said so.”

  Dr. Perez nodded. “She woke up to her man slashing the hell out of her bed with a carving knife. I think you can understand her concern.”

  “Of course.”

  “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you, and it doesn’t mean she’s not willing to stand beside you as you fight through this.”

  Landon nodded.

  Dr. Perez smiled. “Are you listening to any of this, Lieutenant Stone?”

  “Of course,” he replied with a sheepish grin.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Completely.”

  Dr. Perez laughed. “So, let’s dig a little deeper into who and what you are, Landon. I know you’re a SEAL, but I don’t know why you became one. Let’s start there.”

  Landon exhaled. “To be honest, I had no intention of becoming a SEAL when I went to the academy.”

  “So, what changed?”

  “Guess.”

  “Joe.”

  “Affirmative. We’d been out of the academy for about three years,” Landon began, closing his eyes at the long-ago memory.

  Landon and Joe were finishing up a workout at their favorite Chula Vista gym.

  “You seem a bit preoccupied, Joe,” Landon said as they finished dressing and stuffed their gear into oversized workout bags.

  “Yeah.” Joe nodded. “A lot on my mind.”

  “Such as?”

  “My future in the Navy.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  Joe smiled. “Haze gray and underway isn’t doing it for me, my friend. I need more.”

  “I hear you,” Landon said. “Editing the base newspaper and covering yet another ship launching isn’t exactly the most exciting thing I’ve ever done either.”

  “Agreed.” Joe was quiet as they got into Joe’s SUV. “You feel like grabbing a beer and some wings at Bdubs? I think we can still catch the second half of Chargers-Raiders.”

  “Sounds like a plan, my friend. But I might need to check my little black book first.” Landon winked.

  Joe laughed heartily. “Surely you jest.”

  “I do,” Landon said with a Cheshire-cat grin. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

  Landon and Joe found their usual table available at the Chula Vista Buffalo Wild Wings. On the main TV screen, the Chargers were fumbling and bumbling their way to another home loss to the hated Raiders.

  Landon and Joe’s favorite server had put in their usual order as soon as she’d seen them roll through the door. She smiled as she slammed a pitcher of Corona and thirty boneless wings with habanero sauce on the table.

  The two men ate in silence and watched the deteriorating football game for a few minutes. Finally, with the Chargers down 31-7 midway through the fourth quarter, Jo
e looked at Landon. “I think we should try out for the SEALs.”

  Everything was an announcement for Joe. Landon rolled his eyes. “You do, huh? And what, pray tell, brought this about?”

  “A search for a challenge,” Joe said. “The world has always been a scary place, and now it’s even more so. The Cold War is over, but it’s been replaced by a war that’s much harder to define.”

  Landon nodded. “And what’s in the SEALs for me?”

  “Same as me,” Joe said. “A new challenge. Sacrifice. Honor. Duty. Country.”

  “I’m doing all that now.”

  Now it was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes. “You know what I mean, Landon. Despite that old saying you like to quote so much, the sword really is mightier than the pen.”

  Landon thought about the idea. He and Joe were both in their mid-twenties, so they were the right age for the SEAL program.

  Landon had never been one to back away from a challenge. And to be honest, his public affairs job could be boring as fuck some days. He loved writing, but longed for a day when he could write what he wanted, not what others dictated. Or even better, maybe teach others how to write.

  Landon smiled, knowing Joe was ready to lead the charge again. “Lead the way, buddy. I’m game.”

  Landon opened his eyes to see Dr. Perez smiling at him warmly, patiently tapping her pen on a yellow legal pad.

  “Sorry, doc,” Landon said.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Those memories are what’s going to get you through this, Landon.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “What I mean is that deep down inside, under all that macho SEAL bullshit, is the reason for all this. Your destiny as a SEAL—and Joe’s. Reach for that place in the dark moments, remember why you’re here, and push on.”

  Landon nodded, reaching for a Kleenex to wipe away the tears that were flooding his eyes. “How?”

  “One day at a time, Lieutenant Stone,” Dr. Perez said. “Don’t worry about Desiree. She’s the one, and she’ll wait for you. Get yourself well, and she’ll be waiting for you with open arms.”

  He nodded. “If you say so, doc.”

  “I do.” Dr. Perez checked her watch. “That’s it for today. See you on Friday, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. You’re doing great. Keep up the good work.”

  Landon smiled as he rose to leave.

  He wished he shared his therapist’s enthusiasm.

  Chapter 27

  Landon was trying to watch a Padre-Dodger game when his phone buzzed with an incoming text message.

  He picked up the phone and slid his finger across the screen to unlock it. It was from Danita.

  Can you come over? it read.

  He smiled. The text might as well have said come over.

  Landon—no expert at texting, and not a fan of this particular mode of communication anyway—painstakingly typed out a response. I’ll be right over.

  Landon put the phone back on the table, rubbed his temples, and exhaled. He was exhausted, both emotionally and physically, after the stress of the past few weeks. He didn’t want to go anywhere, do anything, or see anyone. But Danita was obviously a big exception to that.

  Landon decided his lounging-around gear—a gray Navy t-shirt and blue shorts—needed to be upgraded slightly for a trip to the Mawhorters. He put on a pair of khaki shorts, a nondescript blue golf shirt, and sandals for the twenty-five-minute trip over the Coronado Bridge and south to Chula Vista.

  The Padre-Dodger game provided background noise for Landon’s jumbled maze of thoughts as he made the short drive down I-5.

  Danita’s car was the only one in the Mawhorters’ driveway as Landon pulled in.

  He knocked on the door and waited patiently for Danita to answer. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened. Landon entered to see Danita standing there in the entryway, her brown eyes swollen and puffy.

  Landon exhaled. She’d obviously been crying most of the day…again.

  He embraced his old friend. “Hey, ’Nita.”

  “Hey, Landon. Thanks for coming.”

  “Anything for you, Danita. Anytime, anywhere.”

  Danita turned and meandered toward the living room. Landon followed.

  She sat down on the couch and purposefully patted the spot beside her. “Have a seat, Landon. We need to talk, my friend.”

  “About what?”

  “You and Desiree.”

  Landon turned away so Danita wouldn’t see the scowl spreading across his face. “What about me and Desiree?”

  “You know damn well what, Landon,” Danita said, expelling a long, ragged breath—the only kind of breath she seemed to have in her these days.

  Landon smiled tiredly. Resisting this tough conversation was futile, he knew. He’d rather take his chances with a Taliban interrogator than tangle with Danita.

  “What do you want me to say here, Danita? It’s complicated.”

  “I know,” she agreed with a sympathetic nod. “But I worked too hard to make this happen to watch you two piss it away. I won’t allow it.”

  He exhaled a long, ragged breath of his own, his frustration boiling over. “I’m in a shitty place right now, Danita. A dark place. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it back from there. I don’t know if I’m ever going to get back to who I was before we lost Joe. A big piece of me died with him in that Afghan hellhole.”

  “I know.”

  Landon nodded, not knowing what to say next. He exhaled again and rubbed his forehead.

  “Desiree asked for some space. I gave it to her. End of story.”

  Danita smiled. “She loves you. And you love her.”

  “Love isn’t the issue here.”

  “Then what is? With love, all things are possible.”

  “I’m the issue.”

  “Bullshit,” Danita said, going to the kitchen and pouring a glass of wine. She brought the bottle and another glass with her when she returned to the living room, pouring Landon a glass and placing it in front of him.

  Landon wasn’t in the mood for a glass of wine, but knew better than to decline. He took the glass and swirled it around as he looked into the clear, bubbly liquid and tried to think of what to say.

  Danita put a firm hand on Landon’s trembling shoulder. “You’re going to be fine, Landon,” she said, a steely resolve evident in her eyes as they bored into Landon’s soul.

  Landon wanted to break the eye contact, but he couldn’t. “Am I?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper and barely audible as the central air conditioning kicked on.

  “You are.”

  Landon wished he felt half as sure of that as Danita apparently was. “I hope so,” he said, the doubt and uncertainty impossible to conceal. “But I’m sure Desiree has told you all about my little episode the other night.”

  “Yes.”

  “I scared the fuck out of her. And myself.”

  “Joe’s done—Joe did things like that over the years,” Danita said, her voice starting to crack. “I understand, and so will she. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t give up on this. Or her. Got it?”

  Landon smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She smiled back. “Good boy.”

  “I’ll reach out to her soon, Danita,” he said, taking a drink of wine. “Right now, however, I need to focus on my treatment and finding myself again.”

  Danita nodded. “I’ll talk to her about that too. Just don’t leave a sista hanging forever, okay?”

  “I won’t. If I did that, I’d have to contend with your wrath. And we both know I’m not that stupid.”

  Danita smiled. “I’ve got you well-trained, white boy. Just like…” She looked away.

  “Just like Joe,” Landon finished the sentence for her. Now it was his turn to put a firm hand on a trembling shoulder. Danita exhaled and put her head on Landon’s shoulder.

  They sat there for a long time like that, the only sound in the room the soft whirr
of the air conditioner. And when it cycled off, the only sound in the room was the soft clicking of the clock on the wall.

  Finally, Danita spoke. “How are you doing otherwise, Landon?”

  “About as well as can be expected,” he said with a noncommittal shrug. “Stress leave sucks big-time. I belong downrange with our platoon. They’re on deployment, and it’s killing me inside to not be going with them.”

  Danita nodded. “I understand, my friend. This is the life you’ve had for more than fifteen years now. It was Joe’s world too.”

  Landon was ready to change the subject, if only slightly.

  Hard aport, he thought, an imaginary wheel spinning in his imagination as he spoke. “Enough about me. How are you, Danita? And the kids?”

  “Existing.”

  Landon nodded. “I know the feeling. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m in counseling, like you, and so are the kids. I’m mad, I’m sad, I’m numb, I’m all over the fucking place.”

  He nodded again, knowingly.

  Danita expelled another ragged breath. “I know you can’t tell me anything about the circumstances of Joe’s death, Landon. But I need more than I’ve gotten so far.”

  Shit, he thought with a growing sense of dread. “Why, Danita?”

  “I just do.”

  Landon knew this tone well. It signified that no further explanation was forthcoming.

  And as much as he wanted to give Danita something to ease her pain, Landon knew he had to stand his ground here.

  Not just to protect classified information, although that was certainly a primary concern for him. But also to avoid revealing that Joe had stepped in front of a bullet that had Landon’s name and operator number on it.

  He sighed and rubbed his temples, a full-blown tension headache starting to assert itself.

  “Danita, please.”

  “Please what?”

  “You know I can’t tell you shit. Hell, I could probably be court-martialed just for what I’ve shared with you already.”

  Danita smiled. “Seriously?