Nashville SEAL: SEAL Brotherhood: Nashville SEALs (12 page)

Jameson was left in awe of the man he hoped to serve under.

‡

L
izzie settled into
a routine over the next few months that kept her busy. She was hired part-time working in the elementary school Charlotte would more than likely attend since she held a teaching credential. She was hoping that by the time Charlotte was ready for kindergarten or first grade, her job would become full-time and permanent.

The time went by fast. Charlotte was very social, and at times Lizzie had trouble keeping up with her activities and play dates. She enrolled her in gymnastics and dance classes. But there wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t think of him. When she didn’t hear from him, she decided it was best to leave things the way they were. In time, she knew he’d come walking into Charlotte’s life, probably with a wife and child of his own. She worked to make sure she was prepared for that day, when it would no doubt come.

A couple of times during the holidays and into the spring, she traveled to Nashville and stayed with Kendra, so the girls could play and the two of them could catch up. Kendra had met an executive with one of the large hotel chains and had been able to do some traveling for minimal cost.

Kendra had received a promotion, so they decided to go out on the town. Kendra used a sitter from the local high school she’d used on several occasions when the two of them went out to dinner or to catch a movie. Tonight, they were going to hit the Highway to Heaven, since neither of them had been there in over six months.

When the sitter arrived, Kendra waved good-bye to the girl’s mother, who had dropped her off. “Thanks for coming on such short notice, Maureen.”

“No problem. I have a ton of reading to get caught up on.”

Lizzie and Kendra were silent all the way over to The Highway. Lizzie thought the crowd was larger than she remembered, and it also had a younger vibe. She found Thomas at his usual perch on one of the stools at the bar in the shadows. His guitar case was down by his boots.

“I come back here after all this time, and who do I find?” She watched him struggle to lean over and take her hand.

“I been waiting for you, darlin’.”

Lizzie thought he appeared even scruffier than before. His jacket had a coffee stain on the breast pocket, which was slightly ripped, like it had been caught on something. His hair wasn’t clean, and his face a little sallow. She immediately picked up that Thomas wasn’t his usual healthy self.

“Thomas, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Kendra.”

“Nice to meet you, Thomas, is it?” Kendra was polite but declined to shake his hand.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, as he tipped his hat to her, then removed it, and placed it on the counter. Lizzie saw the red spider veins in his cheeks and on one side of his nose.

“You playing tonight, Thomas?”

“No, ma’am. But I come prepared anyway, just in case they need the backup quarterback. I actually have a better chance to get on stage now that Jameson is gone.”

Lizzy’s heart raced. “Gone?”

“Oh, not dead, sweetheart.” He winked at her indicating he might be a bit drunk but his observation skills were still sharp. “Gone as in he’s off to San Diego. Finishing up his qualifying. The guy actually made it through the SEAL training.”

“That’s awesome,” said Kendra.

Lizzie wanted to learn more, but didn’t want Thomas or anyone else to know that she still hadn’t stopped thinking and dreaming about him. She thought she’d tucked the pain in fireproof containers in her chest, but she felt the sharp sting of unfinished business and a world of regrets.

She didn’t care for being held hostage to the mystery between them, didn’t want to get hit with it some day when he might just stop by and she’d have to deal with the reality he’d moved on. “So, I suppose by now he’s found a nice young lady and settled down.”

Thomas smirked and took a long drink of whatever was in his glass, coughing afterwards. “That’s funny, missy. I guess you don’t know very much about those guys. They train all the time. I mean, he was awarded his Trident, but he still has to learn how to do all this shit. They go up to Alaska, to the desert, even go to Mexico, North Africa—all over to train. I don’t know how he’d have the time. But,” he eyed Lizzie carefully, giving her a lopsided wolfish grin, “he’s supposed to be done now.”

Lizzie wasn’t sure why that made her feel better, but it did.

“You know, darlin’, if it’s someone you want who can keep you warm at night, I’d like to apply for the job.”

Lizzie wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. If it had been anyone else, she would have let him down with a harsh reprimand involving something about him not being in her league, but because he was Thomas, dear sweet Thomas, and Jameson’s old friend, she couldn’t do that.

She was going to say something, when he blurted out, “Oh, hell, might as well tell you. He’s coming back to Nashville. You’re gonna see the posters everywhere. Old Reed has him doing a farewell tour. Seems he has all kinds of new material, and might have a song or two that will be picked up.”

“Really?” Lizzie asked.

“When’s this happening?” asked Kendra.

“Next week. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, right here.”

“You gonna come
back and see him, Lizzie?” asked Kendra, as they drove back to her house.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Jameson still had her phone number, and a call might have been nice if he wanted her there. In the absence of that, she wasn’t convinced it would be a good idea. “I’ll think about it.”

They arrived at Kendra’s house and woke up the babysitter. As Kendra left to drive her home Lizzie walked inside the bedroom and found Charlotte asleep wearing her pink sparkly cape and crown. She remembered the day she’d come running out into the living room and nearly high-jumped into Jameson’s lap. She remembered other things too: how he bent down and helped her eat her ice cream, how he walked around the house with Charlotte on his shoulders and forgot about the door jamb catching her forehead on it, giving poor wailing Charlotte a goose egg that took nearly a week to heal.

She’d told him to find himself.
Did he?
she wondered.

Lizzie closed the bedroom door, took a shower, put on her nightgown, propped her feet up, and turned on the television. On the coffee table, a small book was open, so she leaned over and began to read some very erotic poems Maureen had left behind.

Kendra arrived back home.

“Take a look at what your sitter was reading. Honestly, these are very adult. Kind of surprising.”

Kendra grabbed the book and read the title. “
Ecstasy
and Love
by Rumi? Who the hell is Rumi?”

“I’ve never heard of him. The kids these days read all sorts of stuff. One of our teachers said her eighth grader was reading that
Fifty Shades
book. I couldn’t believe it.”

“But this Rumi guy was a mystic, a thirteenth-century poet from Afghanistan.” Kendra wrinkled up her nose. “How the hell did she get this? I’m sure they don’t teach this in the high school. This is way too adult. These pages have erotic drawings and pictures of stone carvings. Look at this!”

Kendra flipped the pages back and forth, pen and ink sketches of couples in various mating rituals, and photographs of stone temples with couples having sex carved into the relief.

“You should call her mother,” whispered Lizzie.

“I will. Wow. I’m sorry,” Kendra shook her head. “I really don’t like the fact that she thinks she can bring this into my house.”

“I don’t know. I guess I should be surprised, but I’m not.”

“I’ll pick one of the other girls from the babysitting pool next time. Sorry.”

“It’s not that big a thing.”

They shared a glass of ice water and then decided to head for bed. Kendra made up the couch, and for Lizzie, leaving the girls asleep together in the other bedroom, and settled in for the night. Just before she turned off the lights, Lizzie fingered the Rumi pages and read several erotic poems.

When she closed her eyes, she saw Jameson’s bare frame looking down on her, the feel of his kiss on her neck so real, she had to open her eyes to verify he wasn’t really there.

She knew, despite what she told herself, she’d be dreaming about him all night long.

‡

T
he Highway to
Heaven was packed with the first of Jameson’s three farewell concerts. He sat in his dressing room, signing tee shirts, glossy pictures Reed had made up for the event, and occasionally, an arm or the thigh encased in a tight pair of jeans. It was flattering how the ladies still wanted his attention, and he had many offers for nightcaps and all-night parties. He declined them all.

Kyle, Cooper, and several of the other SEALs had come back with him for the weekend, and he had plans to show them the back streets and dark stories of the Nashville scene, sort of like they’d done for him in San Diego.

He’d been working out so much that the shirt he had planned to wear didn’t fit him anymore. The definition in his shoulders and upper arms made it so he could hardly wear anything that wasn’t made from stretchy material. Even his jeans were snug, his thighs packed in so tight they almost hurt.

His boots fit, though. He hadn’t worn them for months.

Kyle showed his face around the doorway. “How’s it hanging, Elvis?” The name that the first BUD/S instructor had called him had caught on, and he was evermore known as “Elvis, the singing SEAL.” He wasn’t sure how he liked it, but part of his acceptance in the community was predicated on the pranks and practical jokes that he could tolerate. Nicknames were brutal, and as nicknames went, Elvis wasn’t nearly as bad as “Moron” for the Mormon kid he roomed with on one training or “Papa Smurf” for the short tight little package from New Jersey the girls called “Sugar Buns.” The poor guy was barely five feet tall, and for some reason, all the six-foot-something beach volleyball players loved him, which was a constant sore subject to the taller SEALs.

“I’m good. Maybe you could help me with this. My usual shirt with all the fancy beading doesn’t fit me anymore. I mean, I feel like I’m gonna pop a seam.”

He held up his arms and showed Kyle how tight the back and chest were. “And look at this,” he showed Kyle how little room his biceps had.

“You wanna just play in your white tee shirt? Might be more comfortable.”

“No. This is a tradition. I never thought I’d have to have this damn shirt altered. It’s my lucky shirt.”

Kyle pulled the fabric wide at his upper torso. “You need more room here. I’d say give ’em what they want and unbutton an extra two. That’ll make the room you need.”

Kyle unbuttoned the shirt.

“Now I feel like Tom Jones. Only thing missing is all the gold chains,” laughed Jameson.

“And the wolf patch on the chest. Don’t forget that. Although I guess that’s not really in anymore.”

“I think Elvis did it, too,” added Jameson.

“Oh yeah, I think he just shoved his shirt into his pants without buttoning it at all, especially toward the end. And then he kicked and danced around on stage with his coattails flying. Been a long time, but I saw him on TV as a child.” Kyle adjusted the shirt so it hung on Jameson straight. “Perfect, cowboy. I think we’re good to go.”

“Okay, thanks, man.”

“You need to pray? Do I need to do a laying on of hands or anything?”

“Shut the fuck up and get outta my room, you prick.”

“Okay,” Kyle said, feigning being careful, tiptoeing out the door. Just before he closed it behind him, he whispered, “Give ’em hell, Jameson. Let ’er rip. You’re a fucking guitar-playing-fuckin’ U.S. Navy fuckin’ badass SEAL.”

Jameson kicked the door closed and left a boot print on the wood.

He closed his eyes and he saw Lizzie’s face.

Damn.

He’d been staring at the cover of his cell phone for nearly twenty-four hours, since they hopped aboard the transport plane and landed at the Naval Air Station. He was looking for a text or a call from Lizzie, but none came. With only five minutes ’til show time, he knew it wasn’t likely she’d be there. He consoled himself with the fact that perhaps he’d call later tonight or tomorrow morning and catch up, maybe invite her to one of the last two concerts. They were going to deploy in a couple of months, and up until that time, their training would be intense, without any weekend leave. So this was the last time they’d have off before then.