Streamline (42 page)

Sour bit his lip. “I, uh, also heard about the bracelet, and the, um, pregnancy. Don’t worry — only Vegas and I know. I want to apologize for my behavior,” he added, sounding well-rehearsed.

A firstie apologizing to a plebe? It was unheard of.

“Nevington told me I should apologize for destroying that baby bracelet. I thought no way. But then at practice Coach asked me where I got that bruise, and I had to tell him about you.” Sour’s mouth tightened. “Coach said I should
want
a teammate who’s faster than me because that’ll make me better. I thought about it, and I suppose he’s right.”

Pausing, Sour met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Midshipman Scott.” Leo had no idea what to do. He was supposed to receive punishment, not apologies. Then he remembered what Dr. Ina had encouraged him to say. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Go ahead.”

“I have something to say to you as well, sir. My psychologist, Dr. Hansen, she told me to ask you something.” Leo cleared his throat.

“How’d my punch affect you, sir?”

“Huh?”

“Um, how were you affected by my violence, sir?”

“I’m fine. I’m furious with you, and you better not try that crap again, but I’m okay now.”

“She said that’s how you’d respond, but I’m supposed to face the consequences of my violence. Dr. Hansen said I need empathy for the effects of my actions on others.”

“She’s some weird shrink, huh?”

“Yes, sir. Did it hurt, sir?”

Whiskey looked uneasy. “Well, yeah, it did hurt,” he said after a moment. “My jaw’s been aching since yesterday, and I couldn’t sleep much last night. Vegas and Coach are questioning my leadership ability since I almost lost control and hit you back. And the other firsties are giving me crap for getting hit by a lowly plebe.” His voice grew more incensed.

“I’m sorry, sir. I truly am,” Leo said.

Sour continued to fume.

“You sure you don’t want to hit me, sir?”

“It’s tempting.” He took a deep breath. “You do realize I’ll to ride you the entire year for this, don’t you, Scott?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Drop and give me fifty!”

Leo willed himself through fifty pushups, his body teetering on the brink of exhaustion. Finally Mr. Sour left him alone, and he curled up on his rack for forty-five minutes of sleep before evening chow.

Jason rolled over and sprawled out on the pale green sheets of Cam’s bed.

Her head rested on the crook of her arm, and she trailed her fingers across his chest. “I can tell you’ve been hitting the gym hard, babe,” she cooed. “You’re my hunk of man love.” Jason shivered and gave her a lazy smile. “Are you from Pearl Harbor, baby? ’Cause you’re da bomb.” She groaned. “That was your pick-up line our senior year!”

“Worked then, works now.”

“You need new material.”

“All I know is
this
…was great.” He gazed at her. “Way better than stealing a few minutes in the backseat of your car when we were seventeen.” He stroked the hair softly framing her face.

“It
is
nice not to feel the seat divider pressing into my back. But I kind of miss the thrill of maybe getting caught.”

“We still get that here. We’re just lucky your mom’s out of town tonight.”

Cam tensed.

Feeling suddenly chilled despite the late-July heat, Jason pulled the sheet up and rested on his elbows. “You and your mom close on the new house soon. Why don’t you help her move, then we’ll get a place together?”

“Oh, not this again.” Cam looked up at him. “Can’t we just enjoy this moment?”

“You start teaching in a month, and like you said, your first year will be insane. With my night class, I’ll be busy too. If we don’t live together, we’ll never see each other.”

“Jase, we’ve been over this. My dad would’ve freaked if I lived with a guy before I’m engaged. My mom wouldn’t be too psyched about it either.”

“I’m not
some guy
. Besides, we’re only twenty-two. That’s way too young to get married.”

“We’re almost twenty-three. That’s about how old our parents were when they married.”

“Yeah, and look how great that turned out.”

“Well,
my
parents had a wonderful marriage,” Cam said.

“Didn’t you say they were fighting that last year?” She sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know what happened, but my mom seemed angry with him all the time. I know she feels awful for some things she said before he died — things she can’t take back now.” Silence hung between them.

“We’d be happier together than your parents are,” she added.

He scowled. “How do you know, Cam? I love you, and you love me. But how do you know it would last?”

“I don’t have my crystal ball with me, but you gotta have some faith! You need some faith in
us
. If anything happened, I’d fight for you…I don’t want you to leave.”

“Who said I’m leaving?” he said, more harshly than he meant.

Cam looked down. “I just spent the day shopping with Audrey.

She should be all excited to go to school, but instead she’s a mess.

She misses Leo something awful, and barely gets to hear from him.

I couldn’t take that, Jase.”

“Hey.” He smoothed his thumb across her chin. “I’m not going anywhere. You saw that box at Marcus’s apartment — that’s my stuff from Seattle. I’m staying in Florida, okay? We don’t need some silly ring to prove it.”

Hurt crept across Cameron’s face. “An engagement ring wouldn’t be
silly
to me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” Jason pushed himself off of the bed. “I’m getting something to drink.” He slid on his shorts.

He padded down the stairs, headed to the refrigerator, and grabbed a soda. He cringed thinking about his lame protests. Jason wanted nothing more than to marry Cam. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But he didn’t have nearly enough money to buy an engagement ring. Though he loved his job at Child Protective Services, the pay wasn’t great, and he’d already taken out student loans for community college.

Noticing a photograph stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet, Jason studied a close-up of Mr. Walsh at the marina. His brown eyes gazed intently at the camera as he stood in his khaki uniform, arms wrapped around his wife and daughter. Their faces filled the frame, their bright smiles now locked forever in the past.

Would you approve of me as a son-in-law?
Jason already knew the answer.

Who was he kidding? Lack of funds wasn’t the only thing preventing him from popping the question. He wasn’t worthy of Cam’s love.

“At ease, gentlemen.”

Roland Drake and James Scott obeyed Captain Payson’s order.

Roland sensed lingering tension between Scott and Payson, and wondered what his captain had in mind today. He took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself. For the last fourteen months, anytime a superior ordered him to report, anxiety immediately consumed him, and he prayed all over again that nobody had discovered his secret.

He believed the only person who knew had been taken care of, but there was always a shadow of doubt.

Last June Roland had stood in his supervisor’s office, just like he did today. At first he’d been excited that Lt. Commander Walsh wanted to see him. Perhaps a promotion? But as soon as he’d entered the office, he’d known Walsh was displeased.

“Where’d you get that ring?” he’d asked immediately.

“My Academy ring, sir?”

“Yes, Lt. Drake, your
Academy
ring. I was doing some fact checking for your promotion paperwork.”

Roland’s stomach had twisted.

“Turns out you never actually
graduated
from the Academy!”

“I can explain, sir! I-I just couldn’t pass Engineering four sixty-two, but I made all the other requirements. I was so close!” Walsh had been incredulous. “You were
close?
You lied on your resume! How has no one noticed this before?” Roland’s heart had hammered. “I don’t know, sir. Nobody really checked it out, I guess. I didn’t find out I failed the class again till right before graduation. I didn’t know what to do, so I just showed up to my assignment at Norfolk and nobody said anything. I think they never filed the proper paperwork, sir.” Walsh had shaken his head, eyes flaring. “I return to my original question: Where did you get your Academy ring? They only give that to graduates.”

Roland had closed his eyes. “On Ebay, sir.” For a moment he’d thought Walsh was going to laugh, but when he’d spoken there was no humor in his voice. “This won’t turn out well for you, Lt. Drake. At best, you’re looking at discharge. At worst, a court martial.”

Roland had shook. “Please, sir, my wife’s pregnant. I-I can’t lose my job. We’re having a baby girl…You have a daughter, sir. You know what it’s like. Nobody discovered this for thirteen years. If you just deep six this information, I’m sure it’ll never surface.”
That’s right
, Roland reminded himself.
It will never surface
. Walsh hadn’t ratted him out before his death a month later, and nobody else had ever figured it out. He tried to focus on what Captain Payson was saying.

“Commander Scott, you’ve been called to serve on the USS

Ronald Reagan
, which, as you know, is stationed in the Persian Gulf,” the captain said. “Your transport to the bird farm leaves in four days — August sixth.”

“Aye, sir,” Scott answered. Roland could sense him stiffen.

“You tour on the
Reagan
will be three months,” Payson added. “Lt. Commander Drake, you did an adequate job replacing Commander Scott during his suspension. V-Four’s safety ratings did take a dip, though, so I’d like to meet with you more frequently when you take over as air boss.”

Roland nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You have four days to coordinate the transition of leadership, gentlemen. James, I want you to help Roland with the intricacies of running this unit. Nobody does it as well as you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

As Roland followed Scott into his office, he absentmindedly twisted the class ring. He’d had it engraved with his name. It might as well have been actually his. Scott’s impending absence was the perfect opportunity to keep moving up the ladder, and as he prepared to begin the transition, Roland put a smile on his face.

James sat in the parking lot of a coffee shop, waiting for Jason to drop off Mary. His wife had finally relented and agreed to a meeting once he’d told her about his deployment.

Desperation washed over him. He was basically rudderless, with no direction since losing his family. Drowning in a sea of self-pity, James clasped his hands in his lap.

He watched a rusted compact car enter the parking lot and felt a catch in his throat when Mary got out, planting her canes and making her way toward the coffee shop with Jason trailing behind.

God, she was beautiful. She was five years older than him, almost fifty, yet she’d hardly changed at all. He, on the other hand, had aged ten years in recent months.

As James approached them, his son visibly tensed. “You look good, Jason. You been working out?” he asked.

“Uh, yes, sir.”

“And your mother tells me you have a new job.” Jason met his gaze.

“At Child Protective Services,” James muttered, mustering a small smile.

Jason seemed relieved. “I’ll be in the car, Mom.”

“Thank you, Jase.”

James held the door open, and Mary sank into the first big chair she encountered. He continued on to order lattes at the counter.

When he gave her the drink, Mary nodded her thanks. “You leave tomorrow?”

“Yes, at zero-six-hundred. How’ve you been, Mary?” She sighed and twirled her wedding ring.

Is the ring merely a symbol now?
he wondered.
Is there any love left?

Watching her struggle to answer, James turned to an easier question.

“How are our sons?” Surely they could still connect as parents.

“Leo got in big trouble for punching his squad leader.” James’s eyes widened, and she added with a hint of sarcasm,

“Sound familiar?”

“Hey, I stuck to hitting plebes. I wasn’t stupid enough to punch a firstie.” Memories of their meeting at the Academy flooded him.

The Yard was where their romance began…their family began.