Hold Fast (6 page)

I
t’s been
a busy couple days. I’ve got a mission, and that means I need intelligence and supplies. Google makes a hell of an intel shop, though, and Portland has plenty of shopping available. It’s a good thing the Navy paid me out a lump sum for so much of my unused days of leave. I’ve burned through a big chunk of it today.

My mother is home by the time I get back from my expedition, and dinner is ready.

“You’re just in time. Grab a plate,” she says, waving a large brown box in front of me. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, but the smell of my favorite pizza sets my stomach rumbling. Amato’s has the best you’ll find in southern Maine, handmade in a chain of local delis that still use real ground beef instead of the rabbit-shit-looking processed pellets the national chains use. It’s good stuff.

“Just a minute – my hands are pretty full here. Let me drop this off. I’ll be right there.” I put my bags in the living room for the moment, and when I come back to the kitchen, all I have left are two boxes each with a dozen mixed Dunkin’ Donuts in them.

“Had a bit of a craving today, did you?” My mom is amused.

“Yeah, not sure what happened there. Why don’t you take those with you for the other nurses tomorrow?”

“Thank you, they’ll love that.”

The pizza is just as good I remember, and when we’re done, my mom asks about my shopping.

“Saw a couple bags there from Cabela’s,” she says. “You planning to go camping?”

“I’d sort of thought about it,” I say, shrugging vaguely. “Might head up to Moosehead this weekend. It’s not hunting season yet, but I picked up my license today and thought I might scout out some areas up there for November. Too late for the moose lottery this year, though.”

“Scouting, huh?” She frowns, looking past me at the china cabinet where Bill has the picture stashed.

“Yeah. Blueberries are in season now, too – thought maybe I’d stop at a farmer’s market and get some on the way back. Wouldn’t that be nice? Fresh wild blueberries? Haven’t had those in forever.”

“That’s all you’re looking for? Signs of deer and some blueberries?” My mother has always been able to read me like a book, and her raised eyebrows say she doesn’t believe for a single second that’s
really
all of it.

“Of course not,” I say. “You know just as well as I do what I’m thinking about here. My question is, why hasn’t Bill gone up there himself?”

“I think he’s afraid to.” Mom sighs. “What if it’s not them? I mean, he doesn’t want Heather back, but he wants to at least know his little girl is alive and okay. If he goes up there and he doesn’t find them? Or if he
does
find them, and it’s not Courtney? I think he feels like he’ll have lost her all over again.” It makes sense in a sad sort of way.

“What if it
is
them?”

“What if it is?” She shrugs. “What if she doesn’t want anything to do with him? That Heather was always a poisonous little bitch, and who knows what she’s done to that poor girl’s head. I think he’d rather just believe that it’s Courtney and go on suffering, rather than risk confirming it and having her reject him.”

“Tough spot there,” I say.

“That it is.” My mother nods sadly. “So what exactly are you planning to do?”

“Pretty much exactly what I said.” I shrug. “I
do
want to spend a little time in the woods. Go to some of the places we used to camp with Dad. The farmer’s market in Greenville happens on Saturdays and Sundays. I’ll check it out, see what I see, and then come home with whatever I find out.”

“If you want to hunt this fall, why not go up to the camp?”

“
I
think
I’d like a little more wilderness than that, right now. I’ll probably stop in there on the way home, though, check on things.” The hunting camp on Tilden Pond in Belmont has been in the family a long time. Buried deep in the woods of Waldo County, it has a comfortable little cabin with a well and easy access to the small lake. Good fishing there, too. “Plus, of course, I’m curious about Courtney myself. She was a nice kid. I’d kind of like to know what happened to her, and I owe Bill that much at least for taking care of The Beast for me. Never mind taking care of you.” My mom blushes a little, but smiles softly.

“We’ve taken care of each other.” She clears her throat. “I miss your dad, and Bill will never replace him, but he’s not trying to.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jesus, this conversation went depressing all of a sudden.

Mom sighs, then smiles wistfully at me.

“And what about you, Sean? You’re not going to all that trouble just on Bill’s account.” Her knowing look makes me feel like a guilty six-year-old again, caught in some transparent subterfuge. I stay awkwardly silent, shifting uncomfortably and Mom chuckles.

“My Lord, the two of you.” Her smile grows and she shakes her head. “Even a blind man could see you were pining over each other for years. Everyone except the two of you, I guess.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“Oh, honey, you have no idea.” Her laughter is bright now, cheerful. “You were her hero when you were just six or seven, and she had a wicked bad crush on you
years
before you ever started to think about her that way. Your father,” she breaks off, making the sign of the cross before continuing, “God rest his soul, he and I always thought the two of you would wind up together.”

“Never underestimate the stupidity of teenagers, Mom.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll actually find her,” she says. “Maybe there’ll still be something there?” Another laugh, hearty, full of humor. “But, oh, Sean,” she gasps. “There might be a problem with that.”

“Problem?” I ask. “You mean, a problem aside from the whole needle-in-haystack, Lost City of Gold, forlorn hope, aspect of it?”

My mother bounces with anticipation, smirking wickedly at me.

“Sean, what do you call a girl when your parents are married?” Delighted peals of hilarity pour out of her as my jaw drops.

“Oh,
shit
.”

“Watch your mouth, Sean.” There’s no sting in her rebuke, though. Only warmth and happiness.

“You know, I hadn’t even put two and two together on that point. Sh- sorry, Mom.
Crap
, I mean. I really had not thought about that. She’s my stepsister now.” That’s a cold bucket of water right in the face.

But my mother takes pity on me.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a contrite expression on her face. “I shouldn’t have made a joke out of it like that.” Another giggle. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

“God.” I put my head down, face in my hands. “Why’d you have to bring that up?”

“Relax,” she says. “It’s not like you’re actually
related
. You two were head over heels in love
years
before her father and your mother ever had even the first impure thought about each other.”

“Christ, Mom! Like this wasn’t already an awkward enough conversation.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Sean.” She smiles warmly at me, then walks over and hugs me. “Who knows what’ll happen if you ever do meet her again. Maybe you’ll just purely hate each other now.”

“Never know, I guess.” I laugh. The awkwardness is broken. “But, yeah.
If
. I’m not really getting my hopes up on this. I’d like to see her again, yeah, but I know the odds are against finding her this weekend.” I shake my head. “This is all pretty fu-
messed
up. Why didn’t you ever tell me what happened to Courtney?”

“First off, I didn’t really have anything useful to tell you, and second—why didn’t
you
ever ask?”

It’s a good question. Why
didn’t
I ever ask? “She never answered the last letter I wrote her. I always figured she’d just moved on.” I shrug. “It’s true, as far as it goes. I didn’t want to be pushy, didn’t want to keep bothering her if she didn’t want the attention. If she wanted to write to me, she could have. Or so I always thought.”

“Idiot.” Mom stands on tiptoes, reaching up to cuff me fondly on the back of the head. “So you just sat there suffering in noble silence for all these years?”

“Like I said, never underestimate--”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Mom waves her hand and rolls her eyes at me.

“Okay, let’s take a look at the stuff I bought today.” I get up and bring the bags back to the kitchen table.

“Oh, you got a new phone?” My mom picks out the bag from the AT&T store right off.

“Yep. Might as well, right? My old one… I carried that thing all over Afghanistan and Iraq, figured I deserve an upgrade. According to the coverage map, I should be good to go in the whole area around Moosehead, so that’s something.” I shake my head – I can still barely believe the north Maine woods has cell service. There’s a population density of somewhere around two people per square mile up there.

“Oh, fancy. Look at you, all rich with a new phone!”

“Yeah, not rich for long at this rate,” I say. “I’ve got a pension, but it’s not enough to just lay around on the couch all day. I’m going to have to find a job at some point.”

“About that,” she says. “Bill can probably pull some strings, get you on at McGuire, in their security department. Big tough SEAL? You shouldn’t have any trouble getting in there even without connections.”

“It’s something to think about.” I shrug noncommittally and she drops the subject.

“What’d you get at Cabelas?” she asks, poking at the next bag.

“GPS, one of the ones they make for hikers and hunters. Some cheap night vision, a few other things. New pocketknife. Some clothes. Nothing really interesting.” I try to shuffle things around so my mom doesn’t notice the bag from CVS, but it doesn’t work. Why did I want to look at my purchases with her around? That was just a stupid idea.

“What’d you get at the drug store?”

“Oh, ah, batteries mostly. Some ibuprofen to take along.” I try to push that bag to the side and keep it closed.

“Awful big bag for that,” she says, opening it up, and I cringe as her eyes go wide. “Now Sean, you know I’ll love you and be proud of you no matter what, but is there something here you want to talk about?” She laughs as she pulls out the box of tampons, another box of overnight maxi pads, and the pantyhose. “And oh, look at this! Condoms! You’re all set for a nice weekend here!”

“Yeah, great, Mom. I’m glad you find this so amusing.” I really have no reason to be embarrassed by this, but for some reason I am. “Okay, so condoms are good for waterproofing things. Batteries. Detonators. Get the unlubricated ones, you can put things inside and tie off the end. They’re useful, and the ones in the kit in the truck are probably all dried out and worthless by now. Pads and tampons? Best first aid supplies ever. Some quick work with tampons saved my life in Iraq, plugging up a couple bullet holes and stopping the bleeding. Pantyhose make great tourniquets and compression for bandages.”

“You’re not expecting to actually need this stuff are you?” Mom’s face is suddenly serious.

“No, but it’s better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. Speaking of which, I want to get into the toy box.” Wordlessly, my mom digs in her purse for her keys and pulls one off the ring, hands it to me. “Mom, I’m not
planning
to get into trouble, and I’m not looking for it. I just want to be ready if it finds me.”

“Son, you’ve had enough trouble already to last you a dozen lifetimes,” she sighs.

“You wear your seatbelt every time you get in a car, right? Not just when you’re planning to crash it?”

I stand, ready to head for the basement where my dad’s gun safe lives, but Mom catches at my sleeve. “Take your shirt off, Sean. I want to see how the doctors did putting you back together.”

She’s all business now--my mother, the nurse. Professional fingers probe at the puckered scars of entry and exit wounds on my chest, back and abdomen, the slashes of scar where emergency surgeons removed my spleen and one kidney. The line through the sleeve tattoo on my left forearm. Another, a big one, twisted and gnarled, on the right side of my chest.

“They did good work. Crude, but good.” I shrug.

“I’m still alive, so they must have done okay.”

“Last night,” she begins, then hesitates, biting her lip. “I heard you, when you were asleep. Are you having nightmares?” There’s concern in her eyes, worry. Love.

“What, me? Big strong SEAL? Stone cold killer having nightmares?” I look away. She doesn’t need me to answer. She already knows, and sighs heavily. I don’t want to get into it – how could I ever tell her about the terrible beauty of that alley? The pain, the fear. Seeing my five closest friends chewed up by machine gun fire in an ambush? The symmetry of shooting back, the guilty adrenaline rush. Killing.

“If you need someone to talk to, Sean – at the hospital, we’ve got some people. The cops go to them, after…”

“No, it’s fine. Time, that’s all I need.” Yeah, that’s not going to fucking happen. A cop shrink? What good’s that gonna do me?

“Okay. Just … take care of yourself, okay?” She yawns, stretches. “Oh, my Lord. I need to go to bed – four o’clock comes early. These twelve hour shifts are killing me.” Another yawn. “Overtime’s nice, though.”

“Wake me when you get up, okay? I want to get an early start tomorrow. I’d like to spend a little time by myself in the woods before, y’know, Saturday. Before I go and, um, buy some blueberries.”

“
I
will
.” My mother hugs me tightly, kisses me on the cheek. “I love you, Sean. I’m so proud of you, and so happy you’re home safe again.” Her face crinkles a bit, though, and she says, “You ought to shave. You’re getting scruffy.”

“I thought about that. I think I’m going to keep it for a bit. Might be a good idea to be less recognizable, in case …”

“… in case that
is
Heather,” she says, and I nod.

“Yeah. I’d rather she not recognize me right off if she is there. I’d like to feel things out a little bit first.”

“Good thinking. Okay, I’m going to bed now. You’d best go soon yourself if you plan to get up that early tomorrow.” Mom pats me on my scruffy cheek.