Contract with a SEAL (Special Ops: Homefront Book 3) (12 page)

Vi embraced her, and wondered a moment if
it was required that she let go.

Finally putting some slack in her tight
hold, Vi’s eyes met Lacey’s.

What to say? “I’m so happy to see you,”
didn’t seem appropriate. “How was your flight?” seemed too contrived.

“What can I do?” The question slipped
from Vi so naturally.
I’ll do anything to make you feel better. Cash out my
IRA and buy you a Jag. Take you to another gate so we can grab a flight to the
Bahamas. Pick up the entire ice cream section at Safeway so we can just indulge
and say the hell with it all.

“Just keep me from falling apart
completely.”

Vi nodded quickly. “I can do that,” she
said, suddenly wishing for a magic wand so that she could be sure to make good
on her promise.

Lacey pulled out her cell phone to check
her voice mail.

“Any news?”

Lacey frowned, eyes empty, as she
listened, and then ended the call. “Nothing new. I should be hearing from
someone tomorrow about when he’ll be landing at Andrews. I’ll meet him there
and ride in the ambulance with him to Bethesda.”

“I’ll drive you to Andrews.”

 “It’s a work day,” Lacey reminded
her.

 “No, I will,” Vi said firmly. “I
called my boss, Ken, this afternoon at his home number and cleared some time
off for myself.”

Lacey just stared at her a moment, and Vi
wondered what it was she saw in her eyes. Shock? Surprise? Was it really so
hard to fathom that Vi would take vacation time to comfort her sister?

It made Vi want to rewind the last
fourteen years of her life and be a better sister throughout.

“Thanks, Vi,” Lacey finally said.

“Any more word on how he’s doing?”

“Nothing except that he’s stable enough
for the flight from Guam.”

When they arrived at the house, the smell
of homemade chili wafted toward them, leading their eyes to Bess anxiously
standing at the stove. She dropped her wooden spoon into the pot when she saw
Lacey walk through the door, and ran toward her. “Oh, God, Lacey,” she said as
she squeezed her. “I’m so, so sorry this is happening.”

Maeve came down the stairs, and Bess
passed Lacey into the arms of her other friend. “What can we do? Tell me
anything, and consider it done.”

Lacey sat on the couch, her knees seeming
to buckle underneath her. “I wish there was something you could do.”

“Do you want a glass of wine?”

“Actually, that would probably be a good
idea. I need to get some sleep tonight, but I don’t know how.”

“I have just the Pinot Noir for the job.”
Maeve moved quickly toward the kitchen.

“Do you want something to eat? I made
Mick’s favorite chili,” Bess said feebly. “You know, just in case he wants it.”

Lacey shook her head slowly. “I don’t
think they’ll be letting him eat chili yet, Bess.”

“I know. It’s stupid. I just—I just
needed to do something.”

Maeve handed her the glass of Pinot. “That’s
how we all feel.”

Vi watched Lacey’s eyes drift briefly to the
Christmas tree. Its lights were off, the first night Vi could remember not
seeing the tree lit while Maeve was still awake. Vi was grateful for that. Somehow
a colorful, sparkling tree would only make the night seem grimmer.

 Drinking more of her wine, bringing
down the glass to only a quarter-f in one long sip, Lacey sank deeper into
the pillows on the sofa. “I keep telling myself that it must be a mistake, you
know? They say he’s injured pretty badly. Mick told me once they usually don’t
wear dog tags on missions. Maybe they have the wrong guy. Or maybe there’s some
mistake in their paperwork and they called the wrong wife. Or maybe this is
just some kind of hellish nightmare and I’m going to wake up any minute.” She
glanced at Vi. “But I’m not going to wake up?”

 “No,” Vi answered, taking her
sister’s hand as she saw her eyelids droop. “But you will sleep. Come on. Let
us take you upstairs.”

Tomorrow will be better, she wanted
desperately to tell her sister. But she kept her mouth shut, because she had no
idea what was in store for them.

The sky was grey and lifeless as Vi and
Lacey waited inside Vi’s car alongside the airstrip at Andrews Air Force Base. They
had been met by a Navy Chief Petty Officer, who offered them to come inside the
building that lay adjacent to the strip. Lacey politely refused, seeming to
prefer the solitude of her passenger seat and the car radio playing softly in
the background.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Thirty, till a
few people emerged from the building and the Chief headed toward their car
again. He opened Lacey’s door for her and extended his hand. “Ma’am, the plane
is about to arrive.”

Lacey nodded briskly and accepted the offered
escort. Vi stood at her side, silent, as the jet touched down in the distance. The
lump in her throat grew larger, almost suffocating her as it slowed, taxiing
closer to them.

Keep it together, Vi told herself as she
dared to speak. “Remember, I’ll be close behind the ambulance, okay? If we get
separated, just know I’ll be in the hospital cafeteria waiting for you.”

Lacey nodded.

“You have your cell?” Vi asked.

Again, Lacey nodded, almost looking as
though she was in a trance, watching the plane come to a full stop.

“Call me if you need anything. I won’t be
far.” She dared to hug her sister, fighting back the tears. “I love you. It’s
gonna be okay. I know it is.”

Lacey didn’t speak a word, barely even
acknowledged Vi’s presence as the doors to the aircraft opened and Mick was
wheeled out on a stretcher. The Chief standing next to Lacey offered his arm in
escort again, but as Lacey dropped Vi’s hand, she bolted toward the image of
her husband in the distance.

Vi’s eyes filled.
I’m gonna make it
okay. Whatever it takes, Lacey. I’ll find a way to make it better for you two.
She strained to see Mick, but he and Lacey were hidden behind a blur of her
tears in the distance. She felt the pull to be closer to her sister—but
that was Vi’s need, not Lacey’s. Right now, all Lacey needed was to be at her
husband’s side.

The stretcher was rolled to the ambulance
and Lacey disappeared into the vehicle walking alongside the stretcher. Their
door shut, and finally Vi let the tears fall, a downpour onto her cheeks.

“Are you all right, Ma’am?”

Only when the Chief spoke was Vi aware
that she was sobbing. “No. Not till my sister is.”

She turned on her heel and headed to her
car.

***

Two hours had passed since she had last
seen her sister just outside of Mick’s room in the hospital. Vi’s rear end was
numb from sitting on the cold, hard chair in the cafeteria so long, staring at
the bleak assortment of food behind glass panels at the other end of the room.

She wished for her laptop, or her
e-reader, or a good, old-fashioned book to distract her. Not that she could
even focus enough right now to involve herself in a story, or even the latest
issue of
BusinessWeek
. But at least she’d have something to stare at.

She could walk to the gift shop around
the corner, but she didn’t dare step foot from the cafeteria. She had told
Lacey she’d wait for her here. And here she’d stay.

Pulling out her cell phone, it actually
felt good to move her muscles even in the slightest way. How long had she been
sitting frozen like this? She’d call Maeve and Bess, she decided. Glancing at
her watch, she pictured the kitchen with Bess standing at the stove, her usual
post. Under stress, Bess cooked even more, and Vi imagined she’d have whipped
up enough food to feed them for a month by the time she and Lacey returned home.

Maeve would hold vigil on the back porch,
the place she had said she felt closest to her late grandmother who had once
owned the house. Maeve swore her grandmother was still there in some
form—not a ghost, exactly, but a trace spirit that watched over them,
just as Maeve said she had always done in life.

Vi found it a stretch to believe in
things she couldn’t see. But today, she’d call upon Maeve’s grandmother, God,
or anyone out there who might have some kind of power to heal Mick.

She had seen him briefly, when she had
dared to press her head up against the window to his room. Was it really him? That
had been her first thought, remembering what Lacey had said the night before.
It didn’t look anything like him—his face swollen and red, wrapped in
gauze, eyes shrunk to tiny slits that seemed lifeless.

Maybe Lacey was right. They had the wrong
guy.

It was an absurd thought, she knew,
especially when Lacey emerged from the room and fell into her arms. It was him,
she had told her. And worse, he didn’t even recognize her.

Lacey had sobbed for not more than two
minutes before somehow summoning the strength to go back inside his room, to
face a man she desperately loved who didn’t even know who she was.

Where did Lacey’s strength come from? Vi
remembered her falling into hysterics when she got a tiny scrape from a fall
off her bike. She cried for an hour, and never rode the bike again. Vi had sat
for six hours in the front yard the following Saturday with that bike and a For
Sale sign in front of it. She had taken half the profit that day, as agreed
upon with Lacey, who had preferred to spend the day with their Brownie troop
apple-picking.

Now look at her sister. Life was forcing
her to find a strength that she simply shouldn’t even need. Vi admired that,
and secretly wondered if she could ever do the same.

She punched in Maeve’s number, and the
phone was answered on the first ring.

“How is he?” Maeve cut right to the
chase. Vi always liked that about her.

“Not good at all. He doesn’t even
recognize Lacey. He’s talking now, but Lacey says he barely can. And I don’t
think he can move much, or at least it didn’t seem that way. I’ve been waiting
in the cafeteria for so long now, hoping she’ll come down and tell me there’s
been some change for the better. But nothing.”

“Oh dear God,” Maeve responded, and then
Vi could hear her repeat every word to Bess who was probably not five inches
from her friend. “Do you want us to come up there?”

Selfishly, Vi did. Sitting down here by
herself was both terrifying and depressing at turns, letting her imagination
take hold, worrying about what the future held for Lacey and Mick, and remembering
better times that she’d give her last penny to bring back. She desperately
wanted Maeve and Bess there. But it was impractical. Silly, even. If Lacey
could handle sitting at the bedside of Mick in the kind of shape he was in,
certainly Vi could stand a few more hours in a lonely cafeteria. “No,” she
finally responded. “There’s nothing you can do here. The doctor doesn’t want
him to have any visitors right now other than Lacey.”

“But what about you? You need some
company now.”

God help her, the tears fell from her
eyes at the offer. A warmth settled into her heart just knowing that she
actually had two women right now who would drive to the hospital solely to
comfort her.

So this is friendship, she thought,
almost laughing from the realization—and from how foreign it felt to her.
“I’ll be okay. But thanks. Thanks so much.”

“How about one of us take her in tomorrow
to visit him? You can rest up. I don’t think she should be driving by herself. You
know. Just in case.”

Just in case he gets worse.
Yes, Vi had thought of that, too.

“I agree. But I’m really fine to take her
in. She’s my sister. And I—” Vi paused trying to find the words, but
failing.

“You need to do this,” Maeve completed
for her. “I understand completely. I have a brother, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Mick’s going to get through this, Vi. I
know it. He’s tough.”

A pain seared inside of her, as her head
shook. “You don’t see all the people here, Maeve. They’re all
military—some as tough as Mick or even tougher. Toughness has nothing to
do with it. All the muscles in the world can’t go up against an IED or a gun
blast. Mick’s as vulnerable as any of them.”

“I know it’s hard, but you have to stay
optimistic.”

Vi bit her tongue then, remembering that
Maeve had a fiancé who was deployed right now. Optimism might be the only thing
holding her together. “You’re right,” she conceded, even as she saw a man enter
the cafeteria, walking on two prosthetic legs. His wife and two small children
were at his side as they made their way to the selections of pre-wrapped
sandwiches. There was strength, she thought. Not just the wounded man, but the
entire family.

Maybe that was it. Family can strengthen
Lacey and Mick.

Vi was family. Even if she might not have
acted like it for the past decade, Vi was family. And by God, she’d be here for
her sister now.

The morning sun streamed into the
cafeteria, shining onto the stale Danish that lay on a paper plate in front of
her, making it almost look tempting. Raspberry today, Vi noted, a different
flavor from the past three days she had eaten breakfast at the cafeteria in
Walter Reed.

Leaning back and stretching her legs out
under the table, Vi took a sip of the coffee. She didn’t wince this time as the
taste accosted her taste buds. She was actually growing used to it, and was simply
grateful for the much-needed bolt of caffeine.

Under some kind of magnetic pull, her
eyes drifted to the silhouette of a man walking down the hall toward the
cafeteria. Her stomach turning to lead, she recognized him immediately, more
from the way he carried himself than from his face, which was still hard to
make out.

It was Joe.

Was he here to see Mick?

Of course he was. Why else would he be
here?

She doubted Lacey would have called him,
but perhaps he had been informed by someone else in the Navy. The SEALs did
seem a pretty close-knit group from the reports from her sister.

Vi pressed her lips together. She didn’t
want him to see her. Or did she?

No.
No, she didn’t, she confirmed, slumping slightly in her
seat.

Resting her head on her hand, as though
she was tired, she tried to hide part of her face without seeming too obvious.
As he came closer, she lifted her coffee cup to her lips, just as he passed her
on his way to the elevators.

Good
.

Well, sort of.

Joe hadn’t wanted to see her, after all. If
he had, he would have called to let her know he was coming up. What they’d had
was a fling. And at the end of a fling, there’s nothing left but an empty box
of condoms.

Better to leave past mistakes in the past,
especially with other things to focus on right now.

Vi watched him as he stood with his back
to her, waiting for the elevator. The doors opened, but he remained where he
was, turning suddenly to look behind him.

His eyes met hers.

She glanced away. How did he do that? Had
he sensed her watching him? What the hell did they teach these guys in BUD/S
that would grant him such a powerful sixth sense?

Her stomach clenched as she watched him
walk toward her. She offered him a feeble smile, trying to look casual, as his
tall form stood above her table.

“Violet. How are you?”

Why did he call her that? Was he trying
to make her remember that night, the blissful feeling of being joined with him?
As usual, Joe’s face was impossible to read.

What a talent. He could make a killing in
poker, she imagined.

Tit for tat, Vi tried to keep her own
face as stoic as his. “Good to see you, Joe. You came up to visit Mick?”
Certainly not to see me, she added in her mind.
Keep your composure.

“I got an email from his team commander.”

“That was nice of you. I’m sure Mick and
Lacey will appreciate it.” Not wanting to prolong the conversation, Vi slipped
her laptop into her briefcase and flung the bag over her shoulder. “I’m
actually headed out for a little fresh air. It was nice to see you.”

“Need company?” he asked as she stepped
away from him.

She glanced over her shoulder. “No,
thanks. I think I’d like to be alone.”

Of course he’ll let me walk away. If he
wanted to keep in touch he would have called me to tell me he was coming up
here. That was the deal. No strings attached. No contact. No…

“Violet,” Joe said from behind her as she
walked toward the exit.

Freezing momentarily, she then turned to
him wanting to lash out at him. Wanting to demand he call her by the same dull,
monosyllabic name that everyone else did. “What?” she hissed instead.

“I’m so sorry you are going through this.
It must be hard seeing Mick this way.”

Her heart softened in the tiniest way.
“It’s harder on Lacey than me. I’m just trying to be a support for both of
them.”

He nodded. “That’s the best thing you can
do.”

There was a pause. “Yeah. Well, take
care, Joe.” She started to walk away, but in two of his long strides, his hand
was on her arm.

“I was thinking about calling to let you
know I was in town.” He paused. “But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

Vi’s composure cracked slightly. “How
could you think that?”

Joe’s brow arched. “Do the words, ‘have a
nice life’ ring a bell?”

Vi’s mouth drooped, recollecting. “I didn’t—oh,
well, I didn’t mean it that way. I just didn’t want you to feel like I was
going back on our deal.” She said the last part in a hushed tone.

Joe lowered his gaze. “Maybe we should
amend the contract a bit. Pencil a clause in there about friendship. Especially
when one of us might need it.”

“Like now.” Vi admitted, her eyes welling
up. “I could actually use a friend right now.”

“Then you have one,” he said, and then he
did something she never thought he would do. He stooped over and took her in
his arms.

She felt the tears fall from her cheeks
onto his uniform. “This is terrible, Joe. I love them both so much, and I can’t
do anything to help.”

“You are helping. You’re here.”

“But I never was before. What kind of a
sister have I been? Maeve and Bess have been more a part of her life than I
have recently.”

“You’re the one here now.”

Vi sighed deeply. “I wonder sometimes. Would
it be better if they were here rather than me? Maybe Bess or Maeve might say
the right thing. I’m so stupid about these things. So useless.”

“Remember when I asked you to dance at
the wedding?”

“Mmhm.”

“It was Lacey who told me to approach you.
She came up to me and asked me if I wanted to meet the most amazing woman on
the Eastern Seaboard. There was so much pride in her eyes when she said it. And
she dragged me over to your table.”

Vi laughed a little, something she hadn’t
done in days. “Sorry you had to be dragged.”

“Yeah, well, I hate being set up.” Joe confessed.
“Lacey thinks you are amazing. So smart and capable, just like we all do. She
loves you so much, Vi. I think it’s her sister she wants here right now.”

He wiped a finger underneath her eyes,
probably mopping up streaks of mascara. “Thanks,” she said, giving a little nod
to herself. Today wasn’t about her feelings. Today was about Lacey and Mick.
“I’ll be fine. You go up there. Lacey will be happy to see you.”

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’m sure.”

Looking down at her, he seemed to tower
over her at such a close distance. “I’m headed south again tomorrow. How about
breakfast?”

“Okay.”

“Nine all right? At the deli off Main in
Annapolis?”

Vi nodded, and then added, “Unless Lacey
needs me to drive her up here. I don’t like her driving by herself when things
are bad like this.”

 “Of course. If that’s the case we
can meet right here. I was planning on stopping in again before I head back
down to Little Creek. Do you want me to drive Lacey home tonight? You look a
little tired. More than happy to. I’m staying right by the Academy anyway.”

“No. I’m fine. I’m anxious to hear if
there are any improvements. We just got here about an hour ago.”

Joe smiled, and then ever so briefly, a
frown passed over his face. “Well, I better head up now. I’ll send her down to
you so you can make sure she gets a good meal in her.”

“Thanks, Joe.”

***

Vi
. Even as he stepped away from her and strode down the hall,
the memory of her face in tears made his heart ache.

He had known he might run into her on
this trip. He’d been too concerned about Mick to even give it more than a
passing thought.

It was unexpected—that connection
between them that had him turning around at the elevator. He could feel her
there, just as though she had come up behind him and touched her hand to his
arm.

On edge since receiving word of Mick’s
injury late yesterday, Joe couldn’t get up here fast enough. He had helped Mick
land this tour—the job that Mick had wanted back on the SEAL teams in
Coronado—and the guilt of it pulled uncomfortably at Joe’s gut.

Joe had been a CO long enough to know
what it was like to send men on missions not knowing if they’d come back alive.
Countless times, he led the missions himself, feeling even more of the weight
if anything went wrong.

There had been injuries, many severe, and
even one death that nearly had Joe turning in his retirement paperwork earlier
than planned. Joe dealt with it every day—that biting guilt that consumed
him sometimes—pretty much alone. It never got easier.

Some men suffered PTSD from things they experienced
on the battlefield. For Joe, it was the images of afterward that made him break
out in a cold sweat some nights. Meeting the families of his men, seeing the
lives that would be changed forever. Their aggrieved faces haunted him. The
wives. The mothers. And God, the children.

His own nephew had lost a dad in this
war. Joe saw first-hand the despair in Brandon, not just in the initial months
after the loss, but even now. Even at Thanksgiving just weeks ago, years after
his dad’s death, that precious kid was struggling, his grief peeking through
his outer shell with a stutter sometimes. Other times he’d pick at his
fingernails till they bled.

Wars might end, but the battle would
always be there for so many families whose lives had been shattered by death or
injury.

And now it was Mick, with Lacey at his
side, who’d bear the weight.
But they will not bear it alone.

He stepped onto Mick’s floor and followed
the signs to his room, talking briefly to a nurse first, not wanting to step in
without getting consent from Lacey first. The nurse disappeared momentarily
behind Mick’s door, and then opened it for Joe.

His eyes met Lacey’s first, as she sat by
Mick’s side holding his hand attentively. She almost seemed pained to remove
her grasp from his as she stood to greet Joe.

“Please sit back down, Lacey,” Joe
insisted.

She gratefully resumed holding Mick’s
hand as she smiled. “Captain Shey. Thanks so much for coming.”

Her eyes were puffy from exhaustion, but
she looked a damn sight better than her husband.

Lacey looked expectantly from Joe to
Mick, till Mick finally uttered a single word. “Sir.”

A smile crept up Lacey’s face. “Do you
remember Captain Shey, Mick?”

Mick looked like he wanted to say
something, but giving up, just nodded his head slightly.

Lacey’s eyes were filled with joy. This
must mean progress, Joe thought.

She squeezed Mick’s forearm
affectionately. “That’s wonderful.” Her gaze shifted to Joe. “Yesterday he
didn’t even remember me.”

Mick opened his mouth again. The words
came slowly, determinedly. “Could be my eyes were still just too swollen shut
to see you.”

She grinned.

Joe had seen plenty of TBI in combat, one
of the signature injuries of the long war. He could recognize the struggle Mick
was having forming words, recalling memories. His coordination, most likely,
would be severely hampered. It was a hell of a good sign though, for him to
start improving so quickly. But it was still a long road ahead for him.

“Lacey, I ran into your sister downstairs.
She’s wearing a canyon into the floor in the cafeteria pacing. How about you
take a quick break and get something in your stomach?”

Lacey looked to Mick, and he nodded.

“I guess I am hungry,” she admitted. “I’ll
be back in about a half hour.”

Mick nodded again, as she bent over to
kiss his forehead.

She hugged Joe as she approached the
door. “Good to see you, Captain. Thanks for coming up.”

Raising an eyebrow, after the door shut
behind her, Joe commented, “I’d tell her it’s my pleasure, but there’s no
pleasure seeing you banged up like this. How are you, Mick?”

Joe could see the words forming behind
Mick’s tired eyes, and waited patiently till they finally came.

“I guess I went left when I should have
moved right.”

Joe laughed, glad to see some semblance
of a sense of humor in Mick. Recovery would be a lot easier if he could keep
that going. “That you did. But you’re already improving. That’s a damn good
sign.”

Mick shook his head, obviously knowing
the stark reality of TBI. It was very likely he’d never recover completely. For
as common as the injury was in this war, doctors and researchers had only begun
to learn about it. With luck, he’d be able to return to active duty. But with
the severity of his injury, it wasn’t nearly the sure thing Joe would have liked
to tell him it was.