Contract with a SEAL (Special Ops: Homefront Book 3) (11 page)

“And besides, we figured someone has to
go to church to repent for your sins. Or at least we’re hoping you did some
sinning.” Maeve gave Vi a hopeful look.

Vi knew this was coming. “That man’s body
was made for sin,” she admitted.

“Mmmm,” Maeve purred. “So how was it?”

She dropped her overnight bag on the
floor in front of the stove and took a seat. “Painful.”

Bess’s eyes widened. “
Excuse
me?”

“Painful that I’ll never get to have sex
like that again in my life,” Vi clarified.

Maeve slapped her thigh. “Ha! I knew he’d
be good.”

Bess poured some creamer in a mug and
handed it to Vi. “So are you seeing him again?”

“No, definitely not.”

Bess nearly spilled her own coffee at the
reply. “Why not?”

“It’s what we agreed. No strings. No
getting clingy and pathetic.” Vi took a sip of liquid heaven. After sampling the
hotel’s coffee, she suddenly had more appreciation for home-brewed.

 “Clingy and pathetic?” Maeve
winced. “Oh, please tell me those words didn’t come from him.”

“No. They came from me.”

Disappointment hovered like a dark cloud
over Maeve. “So that’s it? You’re not seeing him again?”

“That was the deal, guys. I did his
party. He did mine.”

 “You mean, he did
you
,” Bess
said with a snort.

 Vi let out a small laugh, just to
prove to herself that she could. “Yep, he did me. And now I’m not sure how I’m
supposed to date normal men after this.”

 “No doubt. I remember that feeling
with Jack. But it’s been so long now with him gone, I’m overdue for a
refresher.” Standing, Maeve grabbed her purse off the counter. “We’re headed to
the Holiday Artisan Festival to pick up some stuff for Abby. Want to come?”

“Nah. I think I’ll put my feet up. I’m
exhausted.”

Bess laughed. “I’ll bet. Well, call if
you want to meet us downtown later. Edith has Abby till three today, so I’m
going to party like an animal till then.”

Vi cracked a knowing smile. “I’m sure. At
that wild inferno of depravity called the Artisan Festival.”

Bess sighed. “Yep, sort of like that.”

The two slipped out the door and left the
house blessedly silent. Now if Vi could just silence the voices in her head.

Carrying her overnight bag down the hall,
she caught a glimpse of the photo of Maeve’s grandmother. Bet she never had a
fling, Vi thought, suddenly feeling cheap from the sight of the kind old woman
with the nonjudgmental eyes.

She stopped in front of it. That woman
held the secret, Vi realized, the secret that was elusive to Vi. The words
“till death do us part” weren’t always the empty vow Vi and Joshua had uttered
that day they stood on the golden sands of Palm Beach in front of hundreds of work
associates and family.

How had Maeve’s grandmother done it? Or
her parents?

How did
anyone
do it? Make a
marriage last decades rather than months.

Vi continued down the hall and dumped her
bag on her bed.

She plodded down the stairs again, her
eyes aching to see the Chesapeake’s steel blue horizon. The sound of the water
was so soothing, she had discovered in her few weeks here, and as much as Vi
was anxious to find a condo in DC, she’d miss this view.

Grabbing a cup of coffee from the carafe,
she walked toward the back door, grabbing her laptop off the kitchen table. It
was chilly on the back deck, but not cold enough to stop Vi. Her hair was
almost dry now, anyway, and the coffee warmed her from the inside out.

Sitting down on the porch, she opened her
laptop to take a look at real estate listings. That might distract her from
thoughts of Joe Shey. For as much as she talked about getting her own place,
she had yet to put much effort into it.

It was no wonder why, she thought, her
eyes drifting to the water. The hypnotic rhythm of the waves sloshing up
against the shoreline relaxed her, and she pictured each wave washing away a
trace of the memory of her night with Joe, until eventually, his name would
mean nothing to her.

But no—she didn’t want to forget
everything. His face flashed in her mind, warming her against the winter’s
chill. No, not everything.

From somewhere inside the house, her
phone rang. She darted inside, searching for it, finding it in her purse on the
floor of the kitchen just as the ringing stopped. She looked at the number. It
was Lacey, probably calling to find out how things went with Joe last night. Vi
groaned inwardly, not certain if she’d be able to maintain her strong façade
with her sister. Part of her didn’t even want to. Maybe she needed a shoulder
right now, a good cry to purge the feelings of worry and regret.

The phone chirped to indicate a message
waiting. Vi pressed the button to listen.

“Vi. Call me back. Mick’s been injured. I
need to talk to you.”

The air shot out of her lungs, and doubling
over, it felt like someone had punched her in the gut. Vi pressed her hand to
her mouth, the taste of bile rising, and her eyes burned from a sudden, salty
moisture.

Reaching for the arm of the sofa, she
steadied herself. Mick was on a mission, thousands of miles from Lacey. This
wasn’t a broken toe or a gash from a kitchen knife Lacey was talking about. Mick
wasn’t an ordinary husband, hanging around the house on a Sunday morning with
his wife.

This was not happening. Vi was tired. She
must have fallen asleep sitting in the chair on the back deck and was having a
dream. A nightmare. But as she punched in her sister’s number, the phone in her
hand felt too real. She could feel the weight of it, the smoothness, the heat
from the battery.

No, Vi was very much awake right now.

“Vi,” Lacey’s voice answered.

“What happened?”

Lacey was sobbing, and it was a full
minute or so before she could even speak.

“Mick. It’s Mick. There was an explosion.
He—they think it’s spinal cord damage, Vi. He’s not responding. Not
talking or moving.”

“When? When did this happen?”

“Late yesterday. The medevaced him to
Guam to try to stabilize him.”

Vi’s insides twisted. “Oh, God. I’m coming
out there to you. I can be there in six hours tops.”

“No, don’t. I’m going to Guam.”

“I’ll go with you. You shouldn’t be doing
this on your own.”

“The Navy assigned someone to meet me
when I arrive. I’ll be okay.”

“Lacey. Oh, God, Lacey. What can I do?”

“Just sit on the phone with me for a
little bit. The Casualty Assistance Calls Officer just left. I don’t want to be
alone right now.”

Vi stayed on the phone with her sister
for about twenty minutes till some of the wives of the other team members
showed up at her door for support. One took the phone from Lacey. “We’re here
now. We won’t leave,” she assured Vi.

Hanging up the phone, Vi felt a strange
sensation as her eyes were pulled to the family photos on the wall. She was
grateful that the other team wives could be there for her sister to offer her
comfort and support. But she should have her family there. She should have her
sister. Too many years, Vi had let others step in and play the role of sister
to Lacey. Maeve and Bess—even Edith—had been more permanent
fixtures in Lacey’s life than Vi had been.

Vi couldn’t let that happen anymore.

She tapped Maeve’s number into her cell
phone, and was greeted by Maeve’s cheerful voice. “Hi! Change your mind about
the Festival?”

“No, no. Lacey called. Mick’s been
injured.”

“Oh, God. No.”

“Looks like a spinal cord injury. He’s in
bad shape. Lacey is flying to Guam. She says she’ll be fine, but I think I’m
going to book a flight there. She needs her sister there, don’t you think?”

Vi heard Maeve repeating what she had
told her to Bess. “Yes,” she finally said into the phone. “Definitely yes. She
shouldn’t be alone. We’re headed home now.”

Vi heard a beep on her phone and glanced
at the screen to see Lacey’s number. “Hold on. I’ve got another call.” Vi’s
hands were shaking as she pressed a button on her phone. “Lacey?”

“I just heard from the CACO again.”

“The CACO?” Vi’s mind was drawing a
blank.

“Sorry. The Casualty Assistance Calls
Officer. I’m not going to Guam, after all. They are sending him to Walter Reed
in Bethesda, Maryland. They think he has TBI. He should arrive at Andrews Air
Force Base tomorrow.”

“TBI?”

“Traumatic brain injury.”

“How bad?”

“They can’t say yet. But I imagine it’s pretty
bad if they are shipping him there. That’s where they have the best specialists
for that kind of injury.”

Darting to the back porch, Vi sat behind
her laptop. “So you need to get out here.”

“Yeah. Can I stay with you guys?”

 “Of course. You know that.” She
clicked her keyboard. “There’s a direct flight from San Diego to Baltimore in a
few hours. How long do you need to pack?”

“I’m already packed. I thought I was
going to Guam, remember?”

“I’ve got you on a flight in two hours.
Will that work or do you need more time?”

“That works.”

“Okay.” Vi punched in her credit card
number by rote. “I’m emailing you the itinerary now. Print it out before you
go. I’ll be there to pick you up. I’ll meet you in baggage.”

“Okay. I better go.”

“Okay. And Lacey?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Tears poured from her eyes.
“Oh, God, Lacey, I really love you.”

Switching back over to Maeve’s call, Vi
told her the latest, determined to keep her voice calm, but the tears kept
pouring from her eyes. Vi reminded herself that she had always worked well
under pressure, and today would be no different. That was exactly what Lacey
needed from her today. There were things that needed to be done, and it would
be easier to wait for Lacey to arrive if she kept herself busy.

When Maeve and Bess arrived home, they
began shifting furniture. Bess insisted on moving Abby’s toddler bed into her
own room. Vi would take Abby’s room and Lacey would be able to sleep in her old
room, where they hoped she would feel most comfortable.

They drove to a mattress store and Vi
bought a new bed—she figured Abby could grow into it after Lacey was
through with it—and had their assurance it would be delivered to their
home by the end of the day.

By mid-afternoon, Vi was watching Lacey’s
flight progress online, pacing the room, worrying about her sister on a plane
filled with strangers without a shoulder to cry on.

Never had Vi so desperately needed to see
her sister.

Maeve and Bess waited at home while Vi
drove to the airport, parked in short-term parking and waited in the baggage
claim area while she watched the status of the flight arrivals on the screens
above her.

Memories flashed in her head as the
moments passed. The first time Lacey and Vi had taken a trip on a plane. She couldn’t
even remember where they were going. To their grandparents in Minnesota,
probably. But she could remember how their ears had popped as the plane made
its descent. They had stood together in baggage claim, mesmerized by how their
luggage magically appeared on the conveyor belt. Kids were so easy to dazzle at
six years old.

She remembered the lunchroom so many first
days of school. Vi never had friends to sit with. She was too awkward and shy.
But Lacey always welcomed her at her table, not minding that Vi didn’t know the
trendy topics of discussion, like what boy was the cutest, or what TV show was
a don’t-miss over the weekend. Vi would sit silently, amazed by how easily her
sister talked to people.

Christmas mornings. Oh, those were the
best mornings to have a sister. They’d sit on the top step of the staircase while
their father went downstairs to build a fire in the fireplace and turn on the
Christmas lights. They weren’t allowed to race down the stairs until her
parents gave the green light. Then they’d hear it—one of their parents
saying, “Okay. Come on down.” And they’d race down the steps to an almost
ethereal scene stolen from a holiday card. The fire raging, the lights
twinkling, Bing Crosby singing the classics in the background.

She could see Lacey now, clear as day,
with her hair pulled into two distinct ponytails jutting out from her head,
sitting in front of the tree in her pink robe, ripping through the presents.

If Vi could go back to that time today,
what would she tell her sister to protect her from the pain that the world held
for her?

But nothing could stop love. Even if the
worst happened to Mick, Vi knew Lacey wouldn’t trade a single moment of loving
Mick to avoid the pain of being married to a Navy SEAL, wounded in action.

On the screen above her, the word
“arrived” flashed next to Lacey’s flight number, and Vi moved her vigil closer
to the arrival gate where her sister would emerge. And when she spotted her, Vi
couldn’t help but ache for the bright-eyed smiling sister in ponytails that had
seemed to disappear behind the exhausted mask of a thirty-two-year-old military
wife.