Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert
Chapter Thirty-Two
Arthur
“Do you want to tell me now or later what’s bugging you?” I finally asked as we approached the exit for Oliver’s neighborhood. He’d been quiet and moody ever since I’d met him by the ferry, short answers to my questions, and flipping on the radio as soon as we’d hit traffic, not even joking about my playlist selections. “Because if I can tell that something’s the matter, my mom will for sure be able to sense your mood, and she’ll ferret it out of you. Not to mention the kids.”
Bringing up the kids was something of a low blow, but I was desperate for him to talk.
“Later.” Derrick gave me a strained smile. “I’m sorry. I know I’m terrible company right now. You deserve better.”
“You’re not terrible. I like being with you even when you are quiet and grumpy. I’m worried about you, though. And I’d help if I could.” Sabrina’s point about how this was more than sex pricked at me. This was more than casual, way more, and Derrick being upset made me upset, made me want to fix whatever it was for him.
“I know you would.” Derrick patted my hand at a red light. “And I appreciate that, more than you can know. But can we talk after this thing? Please?”
“Okay.” Like I could deny him anything, especially with his current wet-kitten expression. It was still summer, but he looked cold and miserable and in need of a hug. To that end, I waited until we’d parked outside Oliver’s ranch-style rental close to his base in Tacoma before I rubbed Derrick’s neck.
“That feels good.” He stretched into the contact.
“Bet I can make you feel even better later,” I bragged, putting more oomph into my efforts. “I’ll search massage how-to articles on the way back to my place.”
“You do that.” His smile was still at half-power, but there wasn’t a ton I could do here in Oliver’s driveway, especially if Derrick wasn’t ready to talk.
“I’ll get the presents,” I offered as we exited the car. “But first I’m going to hug you because you need that.”
“Yeah, I do.” He sagged against me more than usual when we embraced. I hugged him as tight as I dared for as long as he let me. He breathed in and out, tension ebbing with each exhale only to return on another sigh. Whatever was wrong was more than a simple bad day, and my own back stiffened. I hoped I could solve this or at least make it better for him.
“Uncle Arthur. Uncle Derrick.” Taylor raced out of the house followed by assorted siblings, dogs, and friends.
“Hey, kiddo.” Pulling away from me, Derrick pasted on a smile and greeted the kids. After grabbing the presents, we made our way through the happy chaos into the house. We were greeted with a flurry of hugs as soon as we got in the door. Stacey whisked the presents off to a towering gift table and pressed sodas into our hands in short order.
I didn’t have as much time to worry about Derrick with the party in full swing. There were several wet and silly games to keep the kids occupied. Not surprisingly, Derrick proved to be a menace at water balloons, and the kids utterly loved his participation, dodging and squealing and making him laugh.
“You certainly earned your cake,” I teased, handing him a towel.
“That was fun.” This time his smile was almost normal. Maybe whatever was bugging him wasn’t so bad. Or at least was something we could deal with, emphasis on we.
“Cake!” my mom called from the deck, assembling the troops. We dutifully dried off and made our way inside to sing “Happy Birthday” to Taylor. Everyone got big slices of chocolate cake.
“Look! Chocolate sprinkles. Your favorite.” Derrick’s expression was so tender that it made my chest hurt as he scraped some of his icing and sprinkles onto my plate.
“Thanks.” Him remembering meant even more to me than the sharing. I wanted to get back to the cabin, to who we’d been there, easy and free and falling—
Oh hell no. I might be able to admit this was more than sex, but I wasn’t ready to go there.
“Presents!” Stacey gathered everyone around the table where Taylor opened many video games and assorted merch from those same games.
Finally, he arrived at our gift. “From both of you?”
“Yeah.” My skin heated. It was a very established-couple thing to do, more so even than showing up together.
“It was a team effort,” Derrick explained. “I had the idea, but Arthur hunted it down and made it happen.”
“Nice wrapping job.” Mom winked at me.
“Oh my gosh!” Taylor crowed as he tore the package open. “It’s Derrick’s car! But Legos! Vince and Seth are going to be so jealous.”
He hopped around the room with the box, big grin on his face. It had taken some major searching, but I’d found a model version of Derrick’s car that Taylor could build.
“That’s until you’re old enough for driving lessons.” Derrick ruffled his hair. My heart squeezed hard. So much want bubbled up in me that I couldn’t even name it all. All I could do was grab Derrick’s hand under the table, hope he knew what he meant to me.
Eventually the party died down, kids carted away by tired parents, and Mom and Stacey boxing up the leftovers.
“You want a beer?” Oliver asked. “You’re both welcome to crash here if you don’t want to deal with traffic.”
“Nah.” Derrick darted his gaze to me. “We have...”
“Plans,” I supplied. Derrick wasn’t getting out of talking to me that easily, and bunking down on Oliver’s family room floor was hardly conducive to the sort of evening we both needed.
“I see.” Oliver chuckled. “Suppose I should go all big brother and—”
“Please don’t.” I laughed, but also I really didn’t want a lecture for either of us.
“Okay. Okay. Be safe. And don’t be strangers. The kids love you.”
I supposed that was his stamp of approval, so I nodded before we all exchanged backslapping hugs.
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?”
“Me too. But it is.” Derrick’s tone was tight and miserable as we approached my neighborhood. “However, maybe more talking isn’t what either of us needs.”
“I still want you to come up,” I said before he could offer again to not. “Let’s have tonight. We don’t need to talk.”
