Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet) (29 page)

Hallie wheeled Philip’s IV pole as she followed him into the holding room for the other
Blanchard
casualties. She thought the sight of the injured might be more than she could handle, but knowing Philip was in the right place, calmed her.

A senior chief corpsman approached her. “Are you Petty Office McCabe?”

“Yes, Senior Chief.”

“My duty staff is stretched a little thin with all these
Blanchard
arrivals. Would you mind chatting with a few of the patients to keep their spirits up until we can get them loaded onto the plane?”

“No problem, Senior. I think it would help me to stay busy, because when I have time to sit and think, I feel like I’m going to lose it.” Her heart rate ratcheted up at the thought of what had happened tonight.

“That’s a pretty normal response after what I heard you’ve been through, McCabe. But don’t worry. My staff knows what happened and they’ll keep an eye on you too.”

“Thanks, Senior Chief.” Hallie adjusted the blanket on Philip, bent over and kissed him first on the lips and then on the forehead.

She turned on her heel to check on the other patients and was greeted by the dancing eyes of none other than Trixie Williams. Her arms and hands were swathed in bandages and her face looked like she’d been badly sunburned. She stared in open-mouthed disbelief. Obviously she’d just witnessed Hallie kissing “Mr. Gates.” Trixie closed her eyes and made a half-hearted attempt to smile as Hallie made her way over and knelt down at her side.

“Shit, Hallie, this is better than the morphine they just gave me,” Trixie said in a hoarse voice. “Bill Gates and the McBabe. Whoever would’ve thunk it? Not in a million years. What I can’t figure out is the cowboy part. I mean Mr. Gates is about as far from a cowboy as you can get.”

Hallie nodded her head. There was no use in denying it. “It’s kind of a private joke. But yeah, I won’t lie to you. He’s the guy who’s going to be waiting for me ‘back home.’ And he will be because he’s going to be fine and so are you, Sarah.” Hallie wanted to take her hand, but didn’t dare touch her so she used her eyes to nurture her as best as she could.

Trixie raised one of her bandaged hands a few inches in the air and said, “Call me Sarah again and I’ll have to figure out how to punch you out.”

“Well, I see they weren’t able to take your spirit. Honestly sweetie, you’re going to be fine. I’m going all the way to Germany with you guys and I’ll watch out for you there. I promise. And I won’t let them call you Sarah either.”

Trixie smiled stiffly and started to speak, although her speech was rough and beginning to slur. Hallie had to lean in close to hear her whispers. “God, Hallie, I was so scared.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “We knew there was something going on and we went to General Quarters and the ship was hauling ass but we didn’t know what was out there and then there was this big explosion.” She tried to blink back her tears. “I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s all going to be okay. We got them all and they’re never going to hurt you again.”

Hallie thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she spoke again. “You know what I always envied about you, McCabe?” She didn’t wait for a response. “How smart you are.”

“Smart?”

“Yeah, Mr. Johnston is probably the nicest man in the whole world. I mean, he’s not my type or anything, but he’s a really good man. I never would’ve put you two together. But now it makes perfect sense.” She opened her eyes and continued. “You’re a really lucky girl. Whoa. Wait a second. You’re the one who broke his heart. Okay, I’m getting it now. All those stories I brought back to berthing? You were hanging on every word, weren’t you?” She smiled as best as she could. “Damn. Did Gina know? Is that why she was feeding me all that shit so I’d take it down in the hole? You guys crack me up. Bill Gates and The McBabe. Too funny. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to anyone. I’d never do that to Mr. Johnston. But Bulldog would shit if he knew this.” She tried to look around. “Bulldog isn’t here, is he? God, who else is here?”

“I’m not sure. Mr. Johnston was the only patient on the helicopter I came in on, but I’ll find out all the names. You rest now. Go ahead and sleep. I’ll keep checking on you. And remember, you’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Yeah, well, if those terrorists messed up any of my tats, I’m going to cross deck to Aviation Ordnanceman, so I can put bombs together for special delivery on tangos’ ignorant asses,” she said as she drifted off.

It was true. They might have burned her and they might have even messed up some of her tattoos, but no way had they put a dent in her soul.

Hallie found another coma victim and she felt compelled to take his hand and talk soothingly in his ear. She didn’t know if he was married or even had a girl back home, but she talked about how someone was waiting for him and he needed to come back for her. She didn’t know whether or not he had kids. She just told him there would be kids in his life that needed him some day so he needed to come back and teach them how to throw a baseball. “I know. I didn’t have a dad and it was very lonely, so you’ve got to hold on and come back for them.”

She knelt and talked to the others about their girls back home too. And the guy who said he didn’t have anyone? She told him he just hadn’t met The One yet, but she was out there somewhere and he would know it when he met her. She asked the married men about their families and the young guys about their parents and their brothers and sisters. She asked everyone where he was from and what their hometown was like.

She got close and looked each man in the eye, then talked sincerely and tenderly. Her soothing voice reassured them and her concern made each person feel special. All of this allowed the corpsmen to do their jobs: to treat wounds, to relieve pain, to change IVs, until they, too, found themselves falling under her calming spell, along with one particular helicopter pilot who had stopped in his tracks to listen to her words of comfort.

Hallie was afraid to touch any of the burn cases, even to hold their hands. So she bent close to their ears and comforted them with her voice. Between patients, Hallie made her way back to Philip to check on him and whisper in his ear. She juggled checking on him with getting water bottles for the thirsty and wiping tears for the fearful. But despite the positive energy she was exuding for the patients, her brain continued to churn.

She finally, truly understood that all the wounded were snipes. It was just what Philip had feared on the beach the day they’d met. What if one of the dhows had hit directly? What if the others had hit too? What if they’d compromised the reactors? Flashbacks of the nightmare kept trying to invade her brain. As much as she tried to focus on the wounded, images flashed through her head. The kick of the gun after she’d pulled the trigger. The split-second horror that she might have killed Dixon too. The not knowing if the noise and vibrations were the catapults and aircraft launching or the dhows hitting the ship.

Do not go there.

Focus, Hallie, focus.

Right here. Right now.

While they transferred the wounded to the Med-Evac plane, the senior chief corpsman appeared out of nowhere. “Hey, Florence Nightingale, thanks for what you just did. You were like the perfect mom or girlfriend for these guys. You were like, I don’t know, an angel or something. Be safe and take some time to heal in Germany.

Just as quickly as the senior chief vanished, Sky sidled up and put his arm around her.

“I have no idea how I’m going to handle being in your wedding now that I know what you’ll be wearing under your dress, but just keep telling Bill about it, okay? Whisper ‘lavender lace skivvies’ in his ear. That ought to bring him back.”

“Thank you for coming with us, Sky. Thank you for caring and making us all laugh. I’m touched. It means a lot to me and I know it will mean a lot to
Bill
when I tell him.”

“Hey, thank you. What you just did here at the Trauma Center? You were like hypnotic. You ought to bottle that bedside manner stuff and go into business. And the fact that you could talk to them like that after what you went through yourself tonight? Man, you’re something else.   Hey, when Bill comes to, just tell him the Skylark says you’re definitely The One and I’m freakin’ jealous. And tell him I’ll never call him a dumb ass again. No way can he be a dumb ass, if he’s got you.” Then Sky hugged her and kissed her temple. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll all laugh about this someday. And you better believe I’m telling the Hot Mic story at your wedding.”

“Oh, I hope you do.”

“Even the skivvies part?”

“Even the skivvies part. It means we’ll all be there. All of us.”

He got it. “Okay, but I’m skipping the screaming part. Bill’s mom is not cleared for that kind of information.”

Sky walked over to his alpha male wingman, squatted down and spoke quietly in his ear. “You got a real winner there, buddy. You’re not going to believe what that woman did on the ship tonight. I just want you to know that if, whatever happens, just know I’ll take care of her if you need me to.”

He paused, blinked, pinched the bridge of his nose, cleared his throat several times before trying to continue. Then realized he couldn’t, too overwhelmed with the events leading to this moment. Hallie alerting them. Guns firing. The dhows exploding. His missiles taking out one of them—he’d never forget that explosion as long as he lived. Learning of Hallie shooting the traitor and Bill in a coma. The laughter that had obliterated all of it when Hallie spilled her guts on Hot Mic, then becoming a different person, impersonating an angel with the wounded.

He was the Skylark, king of the skies and the bedroom. He wasn’t going to cry. So he turned to his tried and true therapy.

Humor.

“Hey, I finally got the perfect nickname for Hallie. You gotta come back so I can tell you. And you have to come back, you sly dog, so I can kick your ass for not telling me she’s a screamer. Never mind. I wouldn’t tell you either if she was my One. But I guess I owe you a beer—hell, sounds like I owe you a whole keg—so you better bring your sad ass back to the world so I can buy it for you.”

Then he choked up all over again. “It’s really important to me that you come back for that beer, Bill.” But, once again, humor won out. “Cuz we need Billy Gates Jr. to get born. You know, Cowboy. Billy the Kid?” He smiled through tears that refused to go away, then made a fist and gently touched Philip’s shoulder with it. “All right, gotta run. Hang in there, buddy.”

Sky turned to Hallie and hugged her, stealing a moment to regain his composure. “Hey, fair winds and all that. For both of you. Just take care of him and remember ‘lavender lace skivvies’ right in his ear.” Then his mouth curved up into his gap-toothed grin before adding, “Okay,
Lacey
?”

Fair winds and following seas.

The sailors’ blessing for good luck. May all the conditions be right for good things to happen on their journey. 

They were going to need it.

Chapter 32

Philip was swimming under water and he could not break the surface. He needed air, but no matter how hard he stroked, he couldn’t get any. Everything was murky and brown, or was it green? Like swimming in a bay or was he in the St. Johns River? It was salty like the St. Johns, but very, very salty. He could taste it. And warm. Bathtub warm. Was this the Persian Gulf? He hoped there weren’t any sea snakes if it was.

The sunlight filtered down, but he couldn’t reach it. And then he saw a distorted face above the water. The person was all wavy and fluid, but then he knew it was Hallie, because he could hear her. Faint and watery. She was calling to him and he tried to respond, but nothing came out. “Come back, Philip, I love you,” she was saying, but he couldn’t. “You can do it. I know you can. You always do everything you put your mind to. I know you can hear me and I know you’re going to come back.”

He kept trying to tell her he was doing his best.

And then she was gone again and he just floated, until he heard Sky. Why was Sky talking about beer? There wasn’t any beer at the steel beach picnic. Suddenly his arms and legs stopped working and he started to sink. It gave him the creeps to go deep in this water, if it was the Gulf. All kinds of strange creatures lived here.

Philip willed himself to kick and stroke, but his body wouldn’t work. He kept sinking, but there didn’t seem to be any bottom. He kept sinking down, down, down. It grew darker and colder. He couldn’t see the streaks of sunlight near the surface anymore. He just kept slipping down in the deep, dark, icy water.

Suddenly it became light again. Very light. Everywhere. Like being lost in the fog. And someone was talking to him again. It was a woman. Not Hallie—but she was
like
Hallie, only she had dark eyes. Soulful eyes. “Go back to Hallie,” she said. “She needs you.”

And then the fog was gone and he was back in the dark, chilly water. This time his arms and legs worked so he breaststroked his way up. He knew it was up by the bubbles. Bubbles always float up. Way off in the distance, he could see it getting lighter.

He kicked and stroked harder, but he was getting tired. He wasn’t certain he could make it all the way to the light. The water grew cooler again and he didn’t think he had the strength to swim back to the sunlight. Suddenly he felt something lift him. It was the woman with the soulful eyes, pushing him up, lifting him. She swam behind him, helping him, and guiding him. Up. Back to the light.

It became clearer. No, not clearer. Brighter. It was still fuzzy, like under the St. Johns, but warm like the Gulf. Something blocked the light above him. Something was in the way. Not his ship, but a small boat, with waves slapping against it. The boat rocked ferociously and he sensed a storm around it. There were raindrops pelting the surface above him.

A hand reached down into the water. He knew it was Hallie by the ring. Wait. This was his sailboat. She was on his sailboat trying to save him. What was his sailboat doing in the Persian Gulf? Philip reached for her hand, but he was too tired. He started to sink again. The woman pushed harder from underneath, until he felt Hallie’s fingertips. But he kept slipping away, sliding back. Down. And the water became so rough, the boat kept rocking and the hand disappeared. The woman pushed him up again until he could finally grasp Hallie’s hand. Maybe she could pull him out of the water now.

Philip held on for dear life and when he looked up through the water, he could see Hallie’s face now, leaning over, all rippley in the waves. And he could see the sails moving wildly above them in the storm. It was raining hard and the water looked red.

He heard Hallie say, “Hold on, Philip. I know you can hold on.” So he did. But then she started talking about her skivvies. Was it Wednesday? Did he miss the news?

“It’s going to be okay. Just hold on. Squeeze my hand, Philip. I know it’s hard to hold on, but squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” So he squeezed it as hard as he could, and Hallie screamed. He was happy he could make her scream, but this wasn’t that kind of scream. It was too loud and it hurt his ears.

“He squeezed my hand! Oh, hold on, Philip. I love you!”

He started to sink again, and then he heard a man’s voice, but it wasn’t Sky. Why was Hallie on his sailboat with another man, screaming? Hallie belonged to him. She promised. She gave him her hair. It was in his wallet.

Hallie was finally allowed to be with Philip again after surgery. The hours had been interminable. The Army medics had balked at first when she answered, “not yet,” to the question of whether or not she was his next of kin. She dug deep and figuring she had nothing to lose, told them the story about the flight and that she’d been ordered to whisper “lavender lace skivvies” into his ear until he came to. Then she added for good measure, “Tell me honestly you have a better plan.” When they stopped laughing, they allowed her into ICU, as long as she promised to invite them to the wedding.  

As next of kin, Philip’s parents had been notified and were on their way to Germany. Oh, they were in for a few surprises, but Hallie didn’t care. All that mattered was bringing Philip back. Once they arrived, they’d all gang up on him. He would have to wake up. There was no way he would be able to resist the three of them.

She could tell exactly when Captain Amerson’s message had gotten through to the CO of the hospital. Philip was moved to a VIP room, for a general or an admiral, and food and civilian clothing were brought to her. Which was a good thing, because there was no way she was leaving Philip’s side, except for a few quick, discreet visits to check on Trixie and the others.

It was clear the medics now knew who she was, offering her copies of the overseas American military newspaper,
Stars and Stripes
, or to turn on CNN for her, but she didn’t want to know about the
Blanchard
attack. She didn’t need reminders of what had taken place in CDC. Or in the engineer spaces. She didn’t want to be reminded that there had been several deaths. Hallie was in the news business. She knew how the press worked and she only wanted positive vibes in that room. She saw just enough to know her boot camp picture was plastered all over them and that Hallie McCabe was “recovering from shock at an undisclosed location.”

She couldn’t believe she was saying it, but she was: “Protect me from the fucking press.”

Hallie picked up Philip’s wallet and again wondered about his glasses. He would need new ones when he woke up. Had to think positively. She made a mental note to email Gina and have her look into it. Surely Philip’s prescription was in his medical record.

Looking through the wallet, Hallie found pictures of herself and a lock of hair. The golden tendril was sealed in a small plastic bag. In his wallet. Which he always carried close to his body.

She reached down and fondled the warm ring still around her neck. With her dog tags. She shuddered when she thought that Philip had been right about wearing them. He had needed them. And then she sent up a thank you prayer that she hadn’t needed hers. But that brought back memories, so she put all thoughts of that night and dog tags away.