Chapter Twenty-Five
Zack
I awoke the next morning in a patch of warm summer sunlight. It felt like a day for staying late in bed, making myself some breakfast and maybe working on my book—and for a single joyous instant I really thought I was going to do all those things. But then I remembered the awards banquet at the Foundry and shot out of bed with a groan of despair.
I had never cared much for awards ceremonies. They were dull and vaguely dishonest; everyone was expected to smile and to avoid talking about anything serious or relevant. The fact that I was being honored somehow made it worse. No civilian really knew the sort of dangers a SEAL faces in combat, the decisions we have to make. I doubted whether most of the people in the audience really cared to know. They would show up and drink champagne and congratulate themselves for supporting us by showing up. And I would have to shake their hands and pretend I was grateful for their support.
As I washed my face and put on my uniform, I tried to think of excuses for leaving the ceremony early and coming back to my apartment with Kelli. If she hadn’t agreed to go with me, I wouldn’t have wanted to go at all.
I was still putting in my contact lenses when I heard the phone buzz in the other room. I ran to it, thinking maybe it was her. But it was only Darren, my brother.
I shoved my annoyance to the side and picked up the phone. “Hey Darren, what’s going on?”
“Hey, brother,” said Darren. He was slurring his words slightly, and I might have thought he was drunk if I didn’t know that was just how he talked. “Me and the rest of the family just wanted to call and congratulate you on your big day. We’re sorry we couldn’t make it out there, but I figured you’ll be home in a few weeks and we’ll throw you a party.”
The family loved throwing me parties; they did it pretty much anytime I returned home. Last time, they had even thrown me one before I left. “Well, you can throw me one when I come home in a week or two,” I said. “And this time I might be bringing a friend.”
I could almost hear Darren’s ears perking up on the other end. “Is this a lady friend?” he asked.
“Damn right it is. We’ll have to find some place for her to sleep. I know Mama won’t approve of us sleeping together.”
“Hell, you ought to just do it anyway,” said Darren. “I was really hopin’ you would get back together with Lindsay.”
“Was that her name?”
“Yeah, you don’t remember Lindsay? You shared her bed for like a month.”
“I remember her being a little crazy. Anyway, can’t wait for you to meet this new girl.”
“She better be hot,” said Darren. “Anyway, I’d better run. Peace.” He hung up.
I shook my head and returned to the bathroom. Out of all my brothers, I had probably been closest to Darren growing up. It was strange because in a lot of ways we were the most different. He was the guy who had once set off the fire alarm so he could sneak into the coach’s office and hide a raccoon in his filing cabinet. I had made decent grades and joined the Navy right out of high school. If we hadn’t been brothers, my parents would have warned me to stay away from him. As it was, he was the problem kid our other friends’ parents warned them to stay away from.
On the way over to Kelli’s apartment, I thought about potentially going home in the next couple weeks. I still had to ask Kelli whether she wanted to go, but I couldn’t imagine her saying no unless she was unable to get time off work. I had a feeling my parents would approve of her. A year ago, I had been dating a shady schoolteacher; now, I had graduated to a big-city reporter. She was definitely a step up.
When I tapped at the door of her apartment, Renee opened the door. Her eyes were red and splotchy, and she looked like she had been crying.
“Hey,” she said without much enthusiasm. “Kelli is still straightening her hair. I told her she looked fine, but she’s not listening. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.” She opened the door wider and motioned for me to come inside.
Renee went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of orange juice. “I’d offer you some wine, but this is all we have. Sorry.”
“There’ll be plenty of champagne at the reception,” I replied. “Anyway, I don’t mind drinking orange juice. It always reminds me of breakfasts with my mom.”
Renee smiled as she brought the glass over to the table and set it down. “You’re sweet.” She allowed her hand to linger on my shoulder for about half a second too long.
I was debating whether I should leave and go find Kelli when she emerged from the back bedroom. She was wearing a long strapless white dress with gold sequins and a pair of black heels, and she had pinned up her hair in a beehive like a secretary from a 1950s workplace drama. “You ready to go?” she asked.
I threw a wary glance at Renee, who was staring miserably at her reflection in the microwave. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
As we were making our way through Midtown a few minutes later, I asked her, “Is your sister okay?”
“She’s been having a rough time lately,” said Kelli. “Apparently her boyfriend is thinking about breaking up with her.”
“He thinks?” I said in disbelief. “He doesn’t know?”
“That’s what I said! It really feels like he’s stringing her along, just toying with her affections to see how she’ll react. I think maybe he wants to see if she’s really committed to the relationship, almost like a test, but it seems needlessly cruel. I told her she should just go ahead and break up with him.”
I didn’t know enough about the situation to have an opinion. We had only spoken for a few minutes, but Max seemed like a decent guy. “You excited about the banquet?”
“Yeah. Woo.” Kelli shook one hand in the air as if waving a flag. “Can’t wait.”
“That’s about how I feel.” We turned onto the feeder road, where a man in a yellow vest motioned for us to move forward. “For the amount of time we’re gonna be spending there, they better at least feed us right.”
“It must be nice to only have to worry about the feed,” Kelli said in an acid tone.
I pulled the car over to the side of the road and brought it to an abrupt halt.
“Hey,” I said gently. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just—well, I wouldn’t be going to this meeting unless you really wanted me there. I don’t know if you realize how scary this is to me.”
“What, do you think somebody’s gonna stab you?”
“It isn’t funny,” said Kelli. She stuck out her lip in a pouty way. It would have been adorable if she hadn’t been mad at me. “I’ve been really hurt, and I have no idea what to expect when I go in there.”
I reached over and laid a hand on her knee. “Listen, sweetums: you’re my date and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Anybody in there wants to mess with you, they’re gonna be messing with me.”
“If you say so,” said Kelli. I pressed on the gas, and we continued on our way.
As it turned out, though, she had nothing to worry about. When we entered the grand ballroom a few minutes later, with its long tables covered in fine linen cloth, cut-glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and hundreds of red, white, and blue balloons, the room froze for a second. Then, the hundreds of SEALs and their guests erupted in spontaneous applause.
Carson was the first to run forward and greet us. “You two are still dating?” he exclaimed, as if it was unheard of for a man to go out with the same woman for longer than a few days.
“Yes,” I said. “We’ve been dating since I got back.” When Carson gaped at me in astonishment, I said, “You know this. We were literally just talking about it.”
Carson blinked rapidly and directed his attention to Kelli. “This man giving you a hard time?”
“You know, he’s alright,” said Kelli, twining a strand of my hair around one finger. She looked more at her ease after the welcome we had just gotten. “I think I might keep him around for a bit longer before I trade him in for a younger model.”
Carson laughed as if it was the funniest thing he had heard in weeks, which it probably was.
While they were catching up, I noticed Sergeant Armstrong waving me over from the other side of the room. “Excuse me for a second,” I told Kelli, and I went over to see him.
Armstrong shook my hand firmly. “You glad to be back in the states?”
“I’m glad to be out of Libya, that’s for damn sure,” I replied.
It was strange to see Armstrong here in a setting like this. He looked slightly uncomfortable, like he would rather have been back in the barracks doing leg sprints.
“Listen, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about,” he said. “There’s a recruitment job that’s opened up in our Brooklyn office. I think you’d be the perfect man for the job, and I wouldn’t hesitate to write you a recommendation?”
“Me? Really?” I felt flattered; Armstrong’s was about the only praise that had the power to move me.
“Don’t act so surprised,” he said, grabbing a grilled asparagus and a cup of sparkling water off a passing tray. “You’re intensely enthusiastic about your job, and you have a passion for it that inspires people. Plus, you’re one of the better communicators in our platoon. If you want the job, you can have it.”
I don’t know what compelled me to say it; maybe I was still so taken aback that I wasn’t thinking straight. “It’s really kind of you to offer me the position,” I said, “but I don’t know if I’m gonna have time. Right now, I’m writing a memoir, and God only knows how long that’ll take. A year, maybe.”
Sergeant Armstrong’s face fell; he looked disappointed, but there was something else—was it worry? Alarm? Whatever it was, I immediately began to regret having divulged my secret.
“Well, anyway, think about it,” he said, clapping me once on the shoulders. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
He left. I watched him go with an uneasy feeling, wishing I could take back the words I had just said. He didn’t look too happy, and I was left to wonder if it was really possible to lose a person’s good opinion so easily.