SEAL Forever (18 page)

His mind flooded with possibilities of how he could put his plan into action, and he knew exactly where he wanted to begin the workout. It all involved a place called Froggy Squats and a certain lady who made him want to push himself to be his very best.

Maura was as excited as a kid with a straight-A report card. Declan was on his way home, and she had so much to share with him. Her only concern was that he hadn't said anything about his appointment with the doctor or the meeting with his CO when she'd talked to him on the phone.

She wanted to put him at ease and didn't know whether she should greet him at the door wearing a negligee or stay in her blue jeans and T-shirt. Was it appropriate that her shirt said, “Split much? Mine is better than yours.”

Rummaging around in her dresser drawer, she found fifty shirts with gymnastics sayings on them. Pulling out a sleeveless camisole with lace around the neckline was definitely the best option.

Dashing to the bathroom, she brushed her hair and added a few dabs of her colored lip balm to give her a little sparkle. The thought of going all girly made her laugh out loud. She liked that her someone special was thinking of her as a woman and not a tomboy in grown-up clothes.

In the kitchen, she surveyed her options. Choosing two wineglasses, two plates, forks, and knives as well as spring water and red wine, she filled a tray and headed out onto the balcony for their dinner outside. She was excited to hear his news.

Thinking about her own, she ran back into the apartment and pulled out a thick envelope. Inside was the signed contract turning Froggy Squats officially over to her. All those years of earning purses for her gymnastic events and it had turned into this…she was the owner of a gym.

Pouring herself a glass of wine, she took several sips of the “two-buck chuck,” trying to steel her nerves for some actual relaxation, but those worries sat there like a blazing sun. And though the actual sun would eventually sink and give the watchers a show, she knew her concerns would keep pecking at her happiness.

* * *

Maura was startled awake by a hand on her shoulder. “What?”

Her handsome beau was smiling down at her. “Are you ready for dinner? Or would you rather call it a night?”

“Dinner please. And I want to hear about your day.”

“Okay.” He put the bag of food on the table and sat down on the chair on the other side.

Opening the bag, she withdrew the containers of food and pulled off the tops. They had a standing agreement that they'd each help themselves.

When she was done, he took the containers and added food to his plate. Seagulls danced overhead, begging for food. Neither of them gave in to the ravenous flying garbage gulls. The curry would probably sizzle their insides.

Reaching for the spring water, Declan drank half of the gallon bottle without even using the glass. Wiping his mouth with the napkin, he pushed the plate aside and said, “The good news is that I might have new duty at BUD/S, and the bad news is that I need surgery sooner rather than later. I'm good with the job, but the surgery has a lot of unknowns still.”

“Okay,” said Maura, recognizing the “I don't want to talk about it” look in his eyes. “Well, um, congrats on the job.”

“Yeah.” He looked at her steadily. “Don't be so concerned, Maura. When I know more, we'll discuss it, and if surgery means that I can run and work out and pretty much be me again, then I am all for it being ASAP.”

Maura nodded her head. “I'm in your corner.”

“I know. Thanks for that and for not pushing me to elaborate until I know more.” He picked up the envelope. “What's this?”

She gestured with her hand that he should examine them. She watched as he pulled the papers out and read them.

“Hey!” he said, standing up. “This is great news!” Carefully, he put the papers back inside the envelope and stuck the wine bottle on top so it would have no chance of being blown away. Then he walked around the table and pulled her out of her seat and into his arms.

He kissed her. “Why didn't you tell me your news right away? This is wonderful! You must be so happy.”

Snuggling her head against his chest, she smiled. “I am.” Looking up at his grinning face, she said, “I'm thrilled. It's a whole new experience for me, not only owning the gym but knowing my past has fueled this triumph.”

“Are you going to compete in any of the gym or parkour competitions?”

She didn't know. How did she admit that sometimes her own fears got the best of her, when he was facing greater challenges with a brave gusto that could conquer an army?

“Maura.” He touched her chin, tipping her face up to his. “I've been honest with you. It's your turn.” He assisted her into her own chair and reached over and lifted his own, so they could sit side by side.

“You're right. I'm…scared.” Saying those words was like opening her soul and showing him her flaws. “I have a hard time letting go of fear, even when I want to more than anything.”

Declan didn't miss a beat. “Shit! That's natural. What's the fear saying to you? Give it a voice.” There was no judgment, just another unique Declanism to remember.

“I don't want to set myself up for a competition and then have another accident.” The image was a giant dragon about to devour her sense of confidence, and she hated having to admit it. “See, I'm not that strong. Look at you, you can face problems and it doesn't even give you a second thought.”

“Yes, it does,” he admitted. “I take plenty of time to think about the issues that come my way.
But
my goal, or rather the desire to reach my goal, is greater than any fear I have. Only one emotion can win: desire or fear. So I chose desire.”

She shook her head, feeling tears sting her eyes. “I'm not that brave.”

“You're choosing that emotion.”

Her anger pricked. “No. I'm not. It's reality.”

His voice was calm, almost serene, and that pissed her off even more. “Maura, what do you want? Why did you buy the gym?”

She took a deep breath, bringing her feelings from a ten to a two on the anxiety scale, and said, “I bought the gym so I could pass on my love of it to kids, teens, and adults and continue to build my proficiency with parkour.”

“That's your ultimate desire.”

“Yes, and my secondary wish is to compete again. Gym to gym. Maybe even build a few careers for some of the members and their kids. I know that world like I know how to breathe: what it takes to reach the Olympic tryouts and how to balance school, family, and life.” Warmth spread through her body as she found herself talking passionately about what she craved. Turning to him, she said, “How…do I control…my fear?”

“I bet you can answer it. How did you do it in competition?”

She closed her eyes and pushed her chin forward. “I know that I'm the best and my performance will be awesome. I can see every move in my head. I run through the routine before I step onto a piece of equipment or the mat, and then when I am sure, I begin.”

Opening her eyes, she added, “I repeat it exactly as I rehearsed it in my mind, and if something deviates, I improvise.” She could feel the smile blooming on her face and the glint in her eye that was always there when she competed. “Like a song playing in my head, the rhythms play out, and when I'm done, I know I've hit my mark and been successful.”

“That's the feeling you hold on to, the knowledge of your capability and belief in yourself. That's the key to achievement. The rest of it…any anxiety…” He rubbed his hands together and then wiped away the imaginary dust. “Let it go. Success only.” He grabbed her playfully, tickling her, and then pulled her close.

She loved being enveloped in the protectiveness of his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder, feeling the vibration of his chest with her hand as he talked.

“Control what you have control over. Everything else…deal with it as it comes.” He drew in a long breath. “If we try to control forces that aren't ours, our efforts will be met not only with failure, but with enormous frustration.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “Control my internal dialogue. Concentrate on what I know, what I love.” She wiggled against him. “I love you.”

“I love you too. We make excellent teammates.” Tapping her on the shoulder, he pointed.

She looked up just in time to see the green flash as the sun sank behind the horizon.
Thank you, God, thank you for the gift of Declan.

An arm hit Maura in the stomach, simultaneously taking the wind out of her and waking her instantly. She sat up and pushed Declan's arm off of her, but it took her a few seconds to catch her breath.

Looking at the clock, she frowned. It was four in the morning.

Declan groaned.

She reached over to wake him from whatever nightmare he was having, only to find his body covered in sweat. She threw back the covers and felt around his body.

The stump of his leg was slick. Reaching for the light, she flipped it on and examined the limb. The color was bluish in places and his body was on fire.

“Declan, wake up,” she ordered. Panic laced through her when he didn't respond. She punched him in the arm.

“Naghhhh,” he said as he pulled the pillow over his head. “Too bright.”

“Don't do that. You need to wake up.” She used all her strength to pull him over. “Declan!”

His body was eerily still. His face looked flushed and his breathing was shallow.

Stretching her arm to the bedside table, she dialed 911. “Emergency. I need an ambulance.” As she explained his condition, she pulled on jeans, a bra, and a shirt. Slipping her feet into her running shoes, the closest shoes she could find, she went to the front door and opened it, repeating her address to the dispatcher.

They wanted her to stay on the phone until the ambulance arrived, so she left it on and placed it on the bedside table. Digging Declan's phone out of his pants, she dialed the number of Dr. Ekkert.

“Answering service. What message would you like to leave? Please start with your name and phone number,” said a firm female voice on the other end.

“This is an emergency. I'm calling for Declan Swifton, one of Dr. Ekkert's patients. He's unconscious and running a temperature. His leg has a bluish tinge.” Maura could hear her voice climbing as she recited his stats again. “He's not responding and I've called an ambulance.”

“Have the ambulance take him to Balboa emergency. I'll let Dr. Ekkert and his unit know.” She paused, and the seconds seemed like forever. “Will you be at this number if there are any questions?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Nerves had Maura on edge as she hung up Declan's phone and placed it in her pocket. She ran next door for her purse and keys, pulling her balcony door closed behind her and doing the same with Declan's.

Maura sat down next to him on the bed.

“Hello.” The attendants came in the door with their kits. She sprang up again, giving them room to work.

“He's breathing. Good sign.” The taller male put a pulse ox on Declan's finger and placed a thermometer in his mouth. Maura watched the numbers climb to 103 degrees. “Fever. Rapid pulse. Shallow breathing.”

The short paramedic was writing on a digital pad. “Was he on any drugs? Alcohol? Is he allergic to anything?”

“He's allergic to codeine.” Maura cleared her throat. “He's had an amputation. I spoke with his doctor. They want you to take him to Balboa.”

“Are you family?”

“Yes.” She didn't even hesitate. She wouldn't allow anyone to leave her behind, whatever the cost, especially when it came to Declan. “I'm his wife.”
Good Lord, I hope the lie doesn't catch up with me.

The taller one put an IV in Declan's arm and hooked up clear fluids.

The other left the room and came back with a stretcher. “Going to be a challenge. He's a big one.”

Maura slung her purse over her shoulder and lent a hand in lifting Declan.
That's my man
, she thought,
all muscle
.

Please, God. Please let him be okay.

* * *

“Maura,” moaned Declan as they wheeled them into the emergency room.

“I'm here,” she said, scooting past the paramedics and coming up alongside him. “I called Dr. Ekkert. He's going to meet us here.” She took his hand and squeezed it. The skin was clammy.

His mouth split into a halfhearted grin. “That's my lady.” Then he passed out again.

The phone in her pocket started to buzz. Who on earth was calling at four thirty in the morning?

A nurse passing close to her whispered, “You need to take that outside.” She watched Maura to make sure she went out the door.

Maura nodded, still in a stupor, as she walked past the ambulance and into the parking lot. Then she answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Who's this?”

Seriously! Who's calling Declan this early? Must be someone he knows well.

Her voice was a short, clipped sound as she responded, “Maura.” She was clenching Declan's cell phone tightly with both hands. The stress of waiting, though it had been less than a half hour, was getting to her.
Should I hang up or should I talk?

A voice was shouting at her. “Maura, this is Leaper. Can I speak to Declan?”

“No,” said Maura. “Sorry… He can't speak. I…I mean he's not available.”

“What?! Wait. Talk to me.”

The same nurse was running toward her and gesturing for Maura to come back inside.

As Maura caught up to the nurse, walking quickly back to the entrance, she added, “He can't talk right now. I have to go. I'm at the hospital with him.” She hung up. She'd call back after she had more details. She hadn't meant to be rude, but Declan came first.

“Ma'am, the doctor would like to speak with you. Your husband needs to go in for immediate surgery. It's urgent.” The nurse put her arm around Maura, escorting her back inside. “I didn't realize Dr. Ekkert was already in the building.”

Inside, she met a thin, athletic man with a white coat and thick worry lines around his eyes. “I'm Dr. Ekkert. Didn't realize the Master Chief was married. His records must need to be updated.” He escorted her into a small room and closed the door. Perching on the edge of a table, he gestured to a chair.

“Thanks, but I'd rather stand.” Worry gnawed at her gut, and sitting would only make the stomach cramps worsen.

He nodded. “As you know, I saw Declan earlier today. He has an HO that needs to be removed, and we talked about me shortening his femur slightly so he could use a running prosthetic more easily. But the problem appears to be that the blood supply to his shorter leg is compromised. I don't want him to lose the whole femur region, so my first priority is to make sure the flow is oxygenating his leg. If that's successful, then we can do all of that while we're in there. If for some reason, we feel he's been under too long or any complications arise, we'll need to stop and do this in two operations.”

“What do you need from me?” Maura squared her shoulders, ready to take on whatever burden was necessary: money, blood, or support.

“A prayer never hurts.” He extended his hand, and they shook. “I just want to keep you in the loop. The waiting room is through those doors. We're going to prep your husband for surgery, and then we'll let you know when it's over.”

“I'll be waiting,” she replied, feeling like a mechanical robot as she headed out of the room. “Wait. Doctor. Can I see him one more time?”

“Sure. This way.”

She followed him to a small curtained area. The scrape of the curtain as it was pulled back made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Declan lay on the gurney. He looked so vulnerable. A small antibiotic IV bottle was hanging next to a larger IV bag.

She studied the monitor he was hooked up to and then she said, “Can I have a minute?”

The doctor left without hesitation. Outside the room, he was speaking with a nurse, though she couldn't hear what he was saying.

She turned her attention to Declan. He looked so fragile. She pulled over a stool, sat down, and laid her head next to his arm. She listened to his labored breathing and could feel the thump of blood through his veins against her cheek.

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down onto his skin. “Please be okay. I love you, Declan,” she whispered as she wept silently against him.

His massive hand moved to cover her small one. He could hear her.

She looked up. She could see him fighting against the fever.

“Love you,” he said. His eyes fluttered and then closed again.

Her heartbeat double-timed as she pushed herself up and laid her lips on his. As she kissed him, she tasted her own tears.

Pulling away was the hardest thing she'd ever done. She wanted to stay right here.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Swifton, we need to prep him for surgery,” said a different nurse in green scrubs. Her manner was kind but firm as she urged Maura to wrap up her visit. Standing by the door, she looked very imposing. “The anesthesiologist is waiting.”

Not wanting anyone to know the truth, that she wasn't really married to Declan, Maura nodded. She left the curtained area without a fuss, only looking over her shoulder once, then headed for the waiting area. It was the longest walk of her life. Every instinct in her body told her to go back.

Entering the large empty room painted a variety of beige and mustard colors did nothing for her mood. The television in the corner was muted, and one of those reality shows where people yell at each other was on.

She dropped her gaze. The lines on the carpet showed it was freshly vacuumed. What an odd thought to have, but the OCD part of her personality got it and appreciated something familiar to latch onto. Cleaning. Order. Decisive action. All of these actions made her mind feel calmer.

Her body was another matter. It wanted to keep moving. She circled the room twice, finally sitting down in a chair that gave her an optimal vantage point for the door. She closed her eyes and gave in to the tears that had been threatening from the get-go. Maura cried until there was no more emotion inside. Then she dried her eyes and took several deep breaths.
This is as good as I'm going to get until I hear Declan is safe.

Her pocket vibrated. She reached into her pocket and withdrew Declan's phone. Right! She needed to call his friend back. Pushing a button, she got his most recent text messages, including an invitation to participate in the SuperFROG Triathlon from someone named Moki Martin. She scanned through the other texts, but they didn't seem that interesting. So she pushed another button, hoping to get the keypad.

Instead something went into security mode and the phone locked her out. Now she couldn't let Declan's friend know what was happening. She wanted to scream her frustration; she shook the phone and tried pushing more buttons to get it to reboot.

At the top right corner of the screen, a little dot moving closer to another dot caught her attention. Pretty soon there was a convergence of dots. The phone gave off a heavy vibration that made her hands shake.

“Here she is,” said a male voice from the door.

It sounded like the man she had spoken to on the phone. His build was almost as imposing as Declan's, and the look on his face was not friendly.