SEAL Forever (12 page)

Declan watched Nurse Doris safety pin the right leg of his sweatpants up over his thigh. She looked like she had done this a million times, and still she smiled. The staff here was remarkable, buoyant, and their optimism truly lifted a patient's spirits.

He knew his lips were set in a grim line, though he managed to mumble, “Thanks, Doris.” Today it was his own frustration getting the better of him. He wanted to be out of this bed and off the East Coast completely, back home in the sunshine with his Team and Maura.

Looking down at himself, he couldn't remember the last time he'd dressed in sweats. Maybe when he was a kid, with his mom. She had been his world. Foster care had been hard for him when she died as he moved from home to home. His possessions had been few: a couple of pictures and his memories. The only permanence he had ever known was the Teams. They were his family, his brothers, and his entire world.

He couldn't complain. There had been a lot of kind gestures since he was wounded. The sweatshirt, T-shirts, and pants were from Jack and Laurie Roaker, a Team ONE bud and his wife. Dan and Aria McCullum from Team THREE had sent a trident blanket, a bunch of comfort items, and a dozen Team FIVE challenge coins—round metal coins that often denoted a branch of the military, a unit, or an individual. The practice of exchanging challenge coins originated in World War I and is still in practice today. They are given as a gift to thank or honor someone as well as to show who you are. Gich had sent a bottle of twenty-year-old scotch, a SEAL hat, and a bunch of truly ugly socks in addition to well-fitting Saucony sneakers.

The Teams always took care of their own, though SOCOM had tried to help out. People outside the community just felt…like strangers. Hard to explain to outsiders, but most military folk, family, and friends that got the combat connection could understand. It didn't stop him from being polite. “I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” the nurse said brightly, helping him to pull the sweatpants over his left leg and then tighten the drawstring at his waist. “Don't know why you won't let me fetch you a pair of boxer shorts. Those things come untied, you're going to have a world of embarrassment.”

“Nothing down there ever embarrassed me,” he said, pushing his body upright.

She blushed beet red as she handed him the crutch. “Just one, right?”

“Yep.” He had his center of gravity down, and though he wanted to move on to the prosthetic phase, he'd had two surgeries and wasn't allowed to try it until the stump healed. His one-month stay had bloomed into two, but he was looking forward to getting on a plane heading for Coronado…soon.

The sweet nurse stood by while he rose. “I got it.” He kept his vision forward and moved toward the bathroom.

“Great.” She opened the door wide for him. “I'm not supposed to tell you, but the doc will be by in an hour to discharge you. You'll be flying back tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.” He grinned at her.

She hesitated, leaning again the door frame. “I want to thank you for the advice you gave me about Larry. Being honest, telling him how I felt about his ex and my dogs and where I wanted our future to go was the heart-to-heart we needed.” Nodding her head, she beamed as she said, “We're getting married at the end of the year.”

That stopped him in his tracks. It took a few moments to maneuver around, but he turned to face her. “Really?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “No more sniping at each other. No more subtext. We flat out tell it like it is. I'm so relieved.”

He smiled back. “Hot damn. Glad it helped. Thank you too. For help with all of this.”

“My pleasure,” she said.

Turning back around, he went into the bathroom to shave. He could have done it in bed with a hand mirror, but he wanted—no, needed—to stand to illustrate that life hadn't changed that much.

His gut twisted in a knot. When he got back on the West Coast, he'd learn more about his fate.
Please, let me stay in.
It wasn't the money that made him send out that prayer. It was the fact that being a SEAL was all he knew and what he had been for most of his life.

He reached the sink, propped the crutch up against the wall, and spread the foam over his jaw and cheeks. He scratched the razor over his stubble.

A beeper sounded. “Declan, I have to go. Catch you later.”

“Okay,” he said. His eyes stayed with her, watching until she was out of view. Nurse Doris Niccly had been a gift to him these past few weeks. She'd been company, even on her days off, coming by to check on him, making him laugh, and generally answering questions. Her brother had died in Afghanistan, losing three limbs in the process. She would have given anything to be there, she'd told him. Any family member would be honored and grateful to see their loved ones again before they were gone.

Rinsing his face off, he dried it with the paper-thin white hospital towel and grabbed his crutch. Going to the bedside table, he took a Team FIVE coin, put it in the pocket of his sweatshirt, and went to the door. Heading down the hall, he stopped at the room of a kid, not more than nineteen, and entered. He sat in a chair and waited.

His eyes studied the young man who slept so soundly. He'd met Private Kellogg Lesterman on his second week. He'd started out in Declan's room and then had been moved down the hall as complications arose. The kid had lost both legs up to the hip and both arms below the elbows. His family had been in and out constantly. There were seven Lestermans on scene and twelve waiting and praying at home.

Big families were an advantage, one he'd hoped to have someday. Now, well, he'd have to see how things went before he tackled the female hurdle again.

Checking the clock, Declan figured the Lestermans would be back from lunch shortly.

Declan had watched this kid struggle to be upbeat in front of his family and cry when he was alone. He wished he could ease the young man's load. The kid had a significant journey ahead of him, and every day needed to count.

He wondered if other people felt that about him.

No, he didn't want anyone to ever feel sorry for him.
I'm damn lucky and know it.

It was obvious that every soldier or sailor housed on this floor had injuries that provided different challenges. Didn't the brass know that
one
protocol did
not
fit everyone? But, hell, despair had to be the greatest crusher. Keeping that beast away was priority one. For individuals who took their problems to the track or the pool or some other kind of physical expression, problems got worked out fairly readily. When he couldn't lick his issues with a workout, he knew he could often run the hamster wheel of doubt and frustration. Without the physical offset, the sitting around was tough on the psyche and sometimes even a killer.

The kid must have heard Declan thinking. He twitched and blinked his eyes open. “Master Chief,” breathed Kellogg, the delight radiating in his words. “Good to see you.”

“Declan. Or you can call me Dec.” Declan pulled the chair closer. “I brought something for you.” He held the coin up for Kellogg to see. “This is my Team coin. I want you to have it. If anyone ever gives you any guff, tell them you got a buddy that will do right by you.”

“That's cool, Dec. Thanks. Can you put it on my tray so I can see it?”

Declan nodded and did as requested, placing the trident side up.

The kid took a shaky breath. “You're going home soon, aren't you?”

“Tomorrow.” Declan pursed his lips. He had so much he wanted to say and no idea where to begin. “Do you have time to talk?”

“Okay.” Kellogg licked his lips and looked at the tray table in front of him.

Declan grabbed his crutch and stood. He lifted the glass with a straw sticking out of it to Kellogg's lips. Watching the kid take several long sips seemed to ease him.

When Kellogg nodded, Declan put the glass down. The private was breathing in short gasps now.

“Do you need me to get someone?”

The kid shook his head. “Don't want anyone. Hate needing help.”

“Me too. But it doesn't make you weak to ask for help. Actually it makes you stronger, because then you know your strengths and weaknesses, and you know for sure what you can learn from others. One of my BUD/S instructors used to say that.”

Declan almost lost his balance, and then he steadied. He wanted so desperately to leave the private with a feeling of hope. “I know…they're telling you stuff here in the hospital. Like it will get better. I don't know whether it will or not.” He took a deep breath. “Here's what I do know: every day you have to find happiness. Laugh. Find joy. Love the people that love you. This is what we got—all we got is today.”

Kellogg's mouth pinched tight, and then he hung his head. “I want out of this bed. I told my family that. I won't spend the rest of my life in one.”

“Good for you,” Declan agreed. “Go out there and live. There are some honeys to catch and kiss.”

Kellogg smiled briefly. “They're working on getting a chair that I can control with…with what I have.” The last part of the statement was flat, as if the heart was willing and yet the spirit was already defeated. Declan didn't know any way to alleviate the burden. The best thing he knew to do was tease someone out of an emotional spot.

“Don't go over fifty-five miles per hour,” Declan joked, holding Kellogg's gaze for a long time. “You got my number. Call me anytime. They told me your voice-activated cell phone would be here tomorrow. And I'm here until 1200, if you want to catch the game on TV or just want to talk.”

The young man nodded and then looked out the window. “I don't want to listen to that thing drone anymore. I want to get on with…everything.” His eyes welled. “I need to feel the Montana air on my skin. See my horse and my dog.” He gulped back the emotion. “I'm afraid I won't…make it back there in time.”

Declan put his hand on the kid's shoulder. He wished he could transfer his strength. “Hang in there.”

“Yeah.” As if he'd flipped a switch, the kid brightened in an almost maniacal manner. “Did I tell you I have a sweetheart? I met her at basic training. We write letters. I have a stack of them. My sister has been reading them over and over again. I even wrote one back to her two days ago. Hope she likes it.”

“Charlotte.” Even as he said the name, Declan couldn't stop the cringe. He had overheard Kellogg's mother and father talking. Apparently, the girlfriend had dumped him when she heard the news, giving the message to the family rather than telling her boyfriend herself. They couldn't bring themselves to share this with him.

“My Charlie. I can't wait to see her. Bet my parents will love her.” Kellogg coughed several times. He took a couple of shaky breaths. “Need to get rid of this cold first. I was never one for being sick. Rather be outside, doing things.”

“Me too,” Declan agreed. He could hear the Lestermans coming down the hallway. They were a loud and inviting group, the kind that pulled you out of your own quiet and into the fun. There was no doubt they'd keep a good eye on Kellogg, but still…something made him worry about the kid, as if his spirit wasn't going to hang on to the hope of life and the joys it could bring.

“Your folks are on the way in.” Declan touched the private's shoulder again. “Good meeting you, Kellogg. Stay frosty.”

“You too,” said Private First Class Kellogg Lesterman. Then those gray eyes moved away…back to the window…and to whatever was beyond Declan's scope of vision that no one but Kellogg could see.

Back in his room, Declan dialed Maura's number. He was relieved when it rolled to voice mail.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, pretty lady. It's Dec. Just checking in. I should be home in a bit. I'll let you know the details when I have them.” He hung up and lay down on the bed. What he was going to say to her? Maybe it was best to leave the decision in her hands. If she split because he lost a leg, he'd know her true motives for being with him. If she stayed, then most likely she really liked him. Either way, he'd have to be good with it.

Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander. It zoomed in on their day together at the gliderport and all the time they'd spent together, the sounds Maura made when she laughed, or of them making love. He liked that. He liked…her.

* * *

The air flight from east to west was pretty calm. The C-17 was filled to capacity and flew directly to Miramar. He didn't know what he'd do from there…probably get a cab. His Teammates were still away, and he didn't feel much like talking to anyone anyhow.

He was still trying to put the pieces together in his head. Closing his eyes, he focused on the Op.

“Hey, are you okay?” A Private First Class on his left shook his shoulder with a bandaged arm. The look of concern was fleeting as Declan's gaze settled on the young Marine PFC.

“Yeah.” Declan nodded, turning his iron gaze away from the Marine. He thought he must have made some kind of noise. If he had, he honestly didn't want to know what it was. Otherwise, he doubted the Marine would have dared. Declan knew how imposing his sheer size and haggard look could be.

The plane hit its descent. The energy among the men changed to one of anticipation.

Coming home was a good feeling and he couldn't wait to be on the ground. He was sure the rest of the varied souls on board were thinking the exact same thing.

Leaning his head against the headrest, Declan contemplated what he'd remembered. Surely, someone had pulled the data from his camera for the CO. When he got back to his apartment, he'd check his gear.

His mind drifted back to the hospital. A lot of the West Coast SEAL community had checked in. They had definitely geared up and the number and size of boxes they had shipped to him was slightly embarrassing. He loved them for it, but he left most of it behind for the guys on his floor.