A SEAL at Heart (8 page)

“I know you are. We are, too.” Sheila started to walk away and then stopped. Turning back to him, she said, “Don’t be a stranger. You’ll always be family to us, Jack, and we want you in our lives now and in the future, too. Got it?”

“Understood,” he said. Too much emotion came through in that one word and he had to clamp his lips tight so nothing else slipped out. A litany of pain, excuses, and troubles was on the verge of exploding out of him, but none of it was appropriate—this woman had lost her husband and the father of her children. There was no greater pain on the planet, and she had her hands full already. She didn’t need to hold his burden, too. What he needed to do was figure out how to lighten hers as he handled his own.

***

Sitting on Laurie’s office couch while she rummaged around in her desk drawer was not how he’d visualized his day.
Tough
luck!
He’d made his decision when he’d seen that child on the beach. Whatever it took to find the answers, he would do it.

This sexy lady might be his best bet. “Laurie, can you run through what we’re going to do?”

“I found it.” Holding up a somewhat crushed chart, Laurie’s smile said it all. “This is a chart on neurological physical therapy. It’s perfect for what we need to do.”

“Which is?” Jack wanted to do this right. He didn’t want to flip out on her the way he had with the tapping. Okay,
get
frustrated
and
angry
with
her
might be a bit more accurate.

“Get you to relax and let go. Basically, this involves your head, neck, and shoulders. As I massage a specific quadrant, it helps you let go of tension, frustration, mental blocks, and so much more. If there is a problem associated with an area, it surfaces and you should be able to vocalize it. So, are you game? Speak now or…”

“Yes, yes,” he waved his hand and stood. “How do you want me to lie on the massage table? Should I get naked?”

“Hell, no, that would be more of a distraction, right now.” She grinned at him. “Don’t look so disappointed. Just take off your shirt and sit in the massage chair. Your face goes on the paper O.”

She stretched her fingers as he sat down. “All that is required of you is for you to pay attention to my fingers, where they are and what they’re doing.”

“I could say the same thing,” he teased.

“Jack, hush up! Do you want to do this or not?” she chided.

“Yes, sorry,” he said somewhat contritely. “How can a man complain about being rubbed?”

“Good grief! Let’s get started.” Her fingers dipped in a small clay bowl warming over a candle. It was a mixture of rosemary and lavender oil—for memory and stress relief—and then she placed her dripping fingers at the base of his neck. Slowly she rubbed the warmed oil in small circles.

“Mmmmm…”

She felt the muscles of his neck give, relaxing by inches. Tightness melted into supple, pliable flesh beneath her fingers as she moved upward to the base of his skull.

“Tell me the first thing that comes to mind,” she whispered next to his ear.

“Besides having sex with you?”

“Be serious, Jack,” she chided. “Come on. Now, if anything pops into your mind as I work over spots, let me know, okay?”

“Sure.” He sighed. “I guess. Could you make triangles instead of circles?”

“Jack, you’re a pain.”

“You have no idea,” he said with a soft chuckle.

“I want you to do those neck and shoulder exercises—three sets of each—today, okay?”

“Sure.”

“It’ll help you with blood flow and movement.” Her fingers moved over his skull, rubbing, pressing, and invoking. They asked questions of him as they gently prodded the areas near his scars… and yet no words came.

Laurie glanced at the clock on her desk, almost the top of the hour. She’d been at it for nearly forty minutes, with no tangible results.

“Jack, it happens to everyone. Don’t worry about it.” She was discouraged, but she didn’t want Jack to know. He’d responded so quickly to her last session that she expected too much. The SEAL psyche was not giving up any of its secrets today.

“Do you have to say it like that? It’s not like I didn’t perform,” he teased. “Next time.”

“Sure.” She smiled briefly. “Listen, I’ve got another client in five minutes. Would you like to use my shower and then go out the back?”

He nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks for, uh, fitting me in.”

“Get out of here!” she laughed. The man was all puns and bad humor. She watched him leave and then she stripped the paper off the headrest of the chair. Perhaps she was too vested in the outcome. If she let go a little more, maybe it would help. Or was the personal approach the way to go? Whatever it was going to be, she had to switch focus to her next patient.

***

Jack stood beneath the shower, reveling in the pounding hot spray as he reviewed the session. When Laurie touched the small scars on his head, he had felt something. It was foggy, indefinable, and yet hanging there at the edge of his consciousness.

Turning off the water, he reached for a towel and rubbed it over his body. Securing it at his hips, he entered Laurie’s small apartment and helped himself to a beer. He took a long draw from the bottle and looked around at Laurie’s personal space.

Jack had seen her apartment the other night. It was on the small side, yet he liked it.

A queen-size bed was pushed into one corner and there was a working wood stove with a small woodbin next to it. The kitchen consisted of a single counter along one wall with a medium-size fridge and a small two-burner stove. A television was mounted on the opposite wall, with a beat-up leather couch and a couple of chairs perched in front.

Stacks of books in milk crates lined the walls in colorful disarray, and piles of movies were on the DVD player, which was balanced on an antique sewing desk. Knitting needles and yarn were stacked in a basket alongside it. A sweater was three-quarters completed with the needles poking out, waiting. Maybe he’d ask her to knit him a gun cozy.

Grinning, he lay down on the bed. Resting the bottle next to him, he picked up one of the tiny recorders Laurie used for her sessions. He turned it on, placed it next to his beer, and then stretched his arms over his head and closed his eyes. “Hey, Laurie, you’re probably only going to get several hours of my snoring, but I’m giving this alternative stuff a try, so you’ll just have to suffer.”

Using a trick he’d learned in training to block out the world, he counted
one
—breathing in through his nose—and
two
—breathing out through his mouth. Over and over he did it until his breathing steadied and he stopped counting altogether.

A leader is a man who has the ability to get other people to do what they don’t want to do, and like it.

—Harry S. Truman

Laurie’s day dragged by at a snail’s pace. She had looked at the clock a hundred times, and she finally admitted to herself that this was one of the rare times she longed to have the workday over. She loved her job, and each client was a personal investment of time, research on his or her case, and careful guidance. Today, though, she was anxious to have the appointments complete so she could prepare for Jack’s session tonight. It had been hard for her to kiss him good-bye and watch him leave just a few hours earlier.

Funny that she thought of it as a session and not as a lover who needed help. Was she kidding herself about crossing the line between therapy and involvement? Probably, but he definitely needed professional assistance. Brought on by an actual head injury and emotional trauma, acute psychological suppression was nothing to sneeze at. A patient could suffer from the memory block his whole life. The good news was that there were many ways to work with the patient, from the benign to the controversial, but the bad news was that Jack seemed reluctant to take advantage of the team of medical doctors available to him at Balboa. It shouldn’t have surprised her, though, because a SEAL is a different breed of man. This particular one seemed to prefer a hands-on approach.

Being a SEAL pup, Laurie had a few extra insights on the warrior mentality and additional tricks up her sleeve on how to handle one. She felt certain she could make a difference in Jack’s life. As long as he was game, she would give it her all. Though she wasn’t sure if she would able to keep him from infiltrating her heart. That part made her a little nervous. For her, keeping her emotions solely on the friendship level would be the first and biggest hurdle. Her healer’s spirit drove her to make a positive difference in any wounded individual’s life, but with Jack… He was already pinging her stability.

“L-L-Laurie,” Clarissa, the young teenager who had come to her for a jaw and neck problem, stuttered. “Do you l-l-like him?”

“Who?” Laurie asked. She was suddenly jarred out of her mental wanderings by her client’s question.

Silently, she chastised herself for letting her mind wander while being in a session with a client. Clarissa was one of her cherished favorites, and the teenager’s success had been extraordinary, especially over the past few months. “I’m sorry. I owe you an apology.”

“N-n-no. It is o-o-okay. I felt that way about a boy o-o-once. His family moved away and I never g-g-got to tell him.” She half smiled and then started speaking rapidly. “I-i-it’s th-th-the m-m-m-man I s-s-saw th-th-the o-o-other d-d-day.”

“Remember to slow down your speech pattern, especially when you get excited. Pace the words. Count silently in your head, if it helps. I, one-two-three-four, like, one-two-three-four, you, one-two-three-four.” Laurie gave the comment gently, so it wouldn’t sound like a criticism, and then she grinned. “Yeah, it’s him. How did you know?” Reaching across, she laid her hands on the teen’s jaw and slowly worked her fingers over the muscles. It was hard to be serious when the girl was grinning at her.

As she moved her fingers into the teenager’s hairline, Clarissa said, “He’s a hunk! V-v-very. Handsome. If I were old enough, I w-w-would date him, too.”

“Clarissa!”

The teenager pushed Laurie’s hands away. There was only so much interaction a teen was willing to bear. “I’m d-d-done. C-c-can we c-c-call it q-q-quits, p-p-please?”

“Show me your exercises first.”

The teen demonstrated the simple jaw, mouth, and tongue exercises, and then moved into the complicated ones. Laurie was proud of her. Clarissa did them with ease.

“Great job, Clarissa! I’m really proud of all the progress you’ve been making. You are obviously staying loose.” Her compliment made the teenager beam. Laurie wanted her to feel good about herself. She was concerned that this was the only place where positive reinforcement was given. “How do you feel? Is it helping your overall jaw movement as well as your stutter?”

“Yes. It helps a lot. I’m delightfully delicious and decidedly delighted.” Clarissa had spoken each word perfectly, and both she and Laurie clapped at the well-done pronouncement and the excellent jaw movement.

“Glad to hear it. Well done, Clarissa! Let’s call this the wrap-up for today. I hope you have a terrific night.” Laurie watched the teenager gather her schoolbooks and purse. “See you next week.”

“Okay. Don’t be t-t-too s-s-smitten,” she teased.

“Oh, goodness. I’ll try. Hey, if you need me before our next appointment, you have my cell number.” Down deep, Laurie worried that
smitten
was the last word the girl would speak for the whole week. Kids could be pretty competitive and very cruel.

Clarissa’s school guidance counselor was a friend who had asked Laurie to take the case pro bono. Laurie would do anything to help a kid in need and was pleased that the hard work had paid off. Clarissa was finally speaking to her. She had worked with kids who stuttered before, but Clarissa’s issue had at first been complicated by recovery from a broken jaw. She still didn’t talk at school or home, but so far her progress had been astounding.

“Yes. Bye.” Clarissa waved, opening the door and letting sunlight into the room. Framed by the fuzzy yellow sunlight, she glowed. The halo of light made her look angelic and far too vulnerable. Laurie hoped there was someone special watching out for that sweet girl.

There’s never a quick fix
, Laurie thought. She sat at her desk and let her worries swirl around in her head. Long shadows climbed the corners as the sun slipped away to set on the horizon. Too soon, it was only she, alone and surrounded by four walls.

Her eyes wandered to the picture of her and her father. They were standing next to her first telescope. The size of it dwarfed her, but her dad would cradle her in his arms as they examined the heavens. All those constellations… He’d whisper the myths into her ear, sharing those special secrets and transporting her imagination to another realm.

Closing her eyes, she tried to hold on to the precious memory. Slowly, though, it drifted away. The warmth and happiness were replaced by anger and frustration. His neglect and her childhood fears rose momentarily like bile in her throat.

“Nothing is ever easy with SEALs.” Her words barely rose above a whisper, but they eased the pain like an ill-fitting bandage.

Turning her attention to the file on the desk, she made a few notes in Clarissa’s file. Nagging doubts taunted the edges of her mind, worries that she wouldn’t be able to fully heal Clarissa or Jack. They were both so solitary, as if the whole world were a series of grave threats to be faced alone.
Jack
needs
more
help
than
you
can
give
him. Wake up, ducky, and let go of him.
She steered her eyes to her little apartment door.

But
what
if
I’m all either of them has?

***

Someone jumped on the bed, startling Jack out of his dream.

He swiftly flipped the figure onto its back, pinning down the intruder’s arms to their sides. He opened his eyes wide and stared unknowingly at Laurie’s startled face for a few seconds until recognition dawned. He finally loosened his grip and she wiggled free. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m not used to being surprised when I sleep.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m good, though. All in one piece.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his worried lips. How had she forgotten that SEALs were loaded weapons and it was better to throw a pillow from the safety of the doorway and duck for cover than it was to try to wake them with a simple touch like a normal human being? Perhaps he’d get used to her presence over time. “Let’s start over. What a lovely surprise to find you in my bed. I am a very lucky Alice.”

“This is some nice digs, but it isn’t a wonderland. Also, I hate to break it to you, but you’re thinking about Goldilocks.”

“So, you’re what… a bear?” She laughed. He was too quick for her.

“Yes, but I’d rather be the wolf. The better to eat you with,” he said, and then he rolled her underneath him. There was something in his eyes, a serious quality that held her attention.

“What were you dreaming about?” Touching his chin, she rubbed her fingers up his jawline. “Jack, do you remember?”

“Yes.” He rolled off of her. They lay side by side in silence. The minutes stretched between them until finally he answered. “My childhood.

“When I was six years old, my father woke me up at five in the morning. He wanted me to sit with my mother so he could run to work. He said he would only be an hour. I remember hearing the door close and the lock slip into place. I got out of my bed, bringing my favorite blue blanket with me. It had soft stuff on the edges. My mother made it for me for my third birthday…”

Jack took a deep breath and continued the story. “The air was cold. My feet were covered in footie pajamas that made a slapping noise on the wood floor as I walked. I always thought the noise sounded neat, so I would run hard, trying to make it as loud as possible.

“My parents’ room was at the end of the hall, which seemed very far away this morning. Mom had been sick for most of my life, but lately she was worse. She hadn’t gotten out of bed for a long, long time.

“When I walked in the room that morning, the smell was funny—sour. I crawled up on the bed and sat watching my breath cloud in the cold morning air.

“But I didn’t want to crawl under the covers. The smell was just… wrong.

“I asked my mom if she was okay.

“Jackie, she called me. ‘Call 911, Jackie.’ We had one of those old rotary phones. I don’t remember much of what I said, only that I insisted Mommy was very sick. The operator wouldn’t let me hang up the phone, so I laid the receiver next to Mom’s head and pressed the other side next to my ear.

“It must have taken a lot out of her… to push the phone away…

“She looked me in the eye and whispered, ‘I love you, John Matthew Roaker. Remember that, my Jackie. Do something important with your life. I want you to know you were the most important thing I ever did.’

“My mother died after those words. I remember the room was so cold, empty, and without her there, I was so alone. When the ambulance arrived, I was still sitting next to her body. I told them she wasn’t inside. They were too late.”

***

Tears streamed down Laurie’s face. Her stomach was twisted with the pain in his voice.

He held her, and together they wept for that small child. When the tears passed, she asked, “Was this a vivid memory or a dream, Jack?”

She heard him swallow. Reaching over, she grabbed the beer sitting on the nightstand and handed it to him. He drained the bottle. “Thanks.” Sitting up, he resettled her in his arms. “It was a memory, one I had buried deep. I hadn’t tapped into those events since I was little. Too painful.”

Laurie sat up, excitement racing through her veins. “You know what this means?”

“My childhood sucked?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at her.

“No. I mean, yes, your childhood was hard and you’re remembering things. Jack, your brain is going through the motions. It’s healing.” She grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. “Do you get it?”

“Yeah. You’re pretty strong for a girl,” he teased.

“I’m pretty strong for a guy,” she replied. “I pound on people all day long. It’s better by far than a gym.” She wiggled closer to him, shaking the bed. A basket hooked on the other side of the headboard fell off, spilling its contents.

“Is that knitting? Do you work the needles? Man, I haven’t seen someone do that in ages.” He laughed.

“Stop laughing, and maybe I’ll knit you a bag for your bullets.” She leaped off the bed and gathered the contents back into the basket. Placing it on a stack of romance novels by the foot of her bed, she sat down beside him. “Gich taught me.” Her eyebrows lifted. “It’s one of the few domestic things about me. I find it relaxing.”

His surprise was clear. “Gich? No kidding? I’m going to have to ask him about that.”

“I wouldn’t poke that grizzly. He might bite you.” She kissed him and then gave him a little push in the direction she wanted him to go. “Come on, Jack, go back to the topic we were talking about.”

He rubbed his nose, but finally acquiesced. “What makes you think I changed it?”

She grabbed his hand and hauled him out of the bed, guiding him out of the small apartment and onto the patio. “Because you’re slippery. Evasion is one of the first thing SEALs are taught. You’ll find it’s hard to bullshit me.”

“Did you ever think, maybe, that’s why I like you?”

The words were a nice little shock. She smiled to herself, and then whirled around. Her eyes held his. “Thanks.”

Pushing up onto her tiptoes, she tenderly laid her lips on his. The kiss was sweet, a caress that held passion and hunger behind it. But there were things she needed to say before she allowed herself to be swept away.

Stepping back, she took him to a double lounger. They sat down on the giant cushion. She was grateful he sat silently, because when she finally looked up, her eyes were moist again. “Jack, I’d like to say I’m sorry to learn about the circumstances of your mother’s death. I never knew mine. Sometimes it hits me with an emptiness I cannot fill. I somehow take on the aspects of this missing piece of me and try to mother the world.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “Can I ask what it was like… to have a mom?”

She hoped he could hear the earnestness in her voice, triggering the private part of him to unfold further. The need to know, to understand, was burning in her.

He nodded. “I remember a feeling of comfort and safety, initially. Things changed, though, from her caring for me to my father and I caring for her.” Jack shook his head. “I guess I learned more of this information later in life. When I was younger, I didn’t understand her pain or the issue. My mother had cancer. My father worked those long hours to help pay for her medication and treatments. None of the medical procedures worked, so she just had to endure the pain until she died.”