Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Once out of the house, Derrick immediately checked his phone, sighed, and slumped into the driver’s seat, resting his head on the steering wheel.
“Okay, now you’re going to talk,” I ordered, done asking nicely.
“Sorry. There was no news. That was a relieved sigh, not a sad one,” Derrick said as he put the car in gear.
Not mollified, I made a frustrated noise. “No news about what?”
“I don’t know for sure yet—”
“I’m okay with uncertainty,” I lied. Uncertainty sucked. I’d spent large chunks of my life uncertain—when was Dad’s deployment ending, where would we be stationed next, who would be my friend. “And if you tell me, then we can be uncertain together.”
“Fine. Not being alone in my head sounds good.” He gave me a grim smile before heading out of the neighborhood and back to the highway. “Right before I came to meet you, my commanding officer and chief of the boat called me in.”
“Never a good sign.” My stomach sloshed around, dread gathering, but I tried to keep my voice even so he’d keep talking.
“Yeah. Somehow I knew I wasn’t going to like it. And it turns out there’s a situation on another sub. Their sonar chief is sick and likely needs a medical evac. They need a replacement ASAP if they pull the chief.”
“Oh.” The sick feeling intensified, like a little kid on a roller coaster with a too-full stomach.
“Anyway, this is a situation they’re monitoring, waiting to see what develops.”
“Isn’t there anyone else they could ask?” I knew even before he shook his head what the answer would be.
“The navy doesn’t ask. They order. They’re looking at a few options, including other chiefs, but honestly I’m probably the most likely candidate. If the brass says I’m going, I’m going.”
“Yeah. That’s how it goes.” I took a deep breath, which helped not at all. “You’ve got to follow orders.”
“Yup.” Derrick nodded sharply, ever the good sailor, making my jaw clench. “Also, on a personal level, I know what it’s like being down someone key. It sucks. I feel bad for that crew, and if I can help, I want to do that.”
“I know. You’re a good guy.” I watched the traffic out the window rather than his face. Typical Seattle traffic—we’d be rolling along only to come to an abrupt halt, not unlike what was happening here inside the car.
“I try. But I know it sucks for you—for us—too.” His voice cracked on us, a sharp noise I felt deep in my gut. “I really thought I’d have more time stateside.”
“Me too.” My sinuses burned but I couldn’t cry, couldn’t add that burden to whatever he was already feeling. His face was pale and his mouth a harsh slash across strained features. He didn’t need my tears. “How long will you be gone if they send you?”
“I don’t know.” Derrick tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as traffic slowed. “Likely weeks. They don’t do an evac like this lightly. There are all sorts of complicated logistics for an extraction and arranging the rendezvous to take on the new personnel.”
“Makes sense,” I said flatly. There wasn’t much else I could say.
“I’m not going to lie, though, it could be months, and I don’t get a say in that either.”
“I know.” In front of us, the city lights twinkled, the usual hustle and bustle continuing unabated.
“I’m sorry.” There was a whole universe of meaning in Derrick’s voice, the sort of deep nuance I could work on musically for weeks and never completely convey. I wasn’t sure how to reply either. I couldn’t say it would be okay because it so clearly wasn’t okay.
“I’m sorry too,” I said at last because that at least was true. I was sorry for the other chief and for Derrick and for myself too. And for us, for the time we’d thought we’d have and now likely wouldn’t.
“Do you want me to just drop you off?” he asked quietly. “I can if that would be easier.”
“No. Nothing’s going to make this easier.” And being alone was going to bite. The idea of trudging up the apartment steps on my own, him headed to God knew where, had bile rising up my throat. “But do you have to get back?”
“Not yet. They haven’t called. When they call, I’ll have to go, but it could be hours or days yet. My commander said to stand ready, get my things in order, but to keep going about my life until we know more.”
“Waiting sucks.” I shifted in my seat and stared out the window again.
“Yeah, it does. I’d rather wait with you, have the night I promised you, but not if you’d rather be alone. I get it. You didn’t sign up for this. And I’m probably not the best company tonight either.”
“I don’t want you to be alone,” I said softly, hating the vision of him driving back alone as much as the one of me alone in my cramped room. “Is it bad that I just want to pretend this isn’t happening?”