Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Arthur

“We’ll get you there on time.” Sabrina drove like a menace, navigating Seattle-area traffic like her social media status was on the line to make it to the base before the buses to the pier departed. She was a demon behind the wheel, with her flame-colored hair flowing, but even she hadn’t been able to account for a ploddingly long car ferry ride. She had gone with autumnal colors, burnt oranges and reds that would look garish on anyone else, and the look added to her fiery driving once we were free of the ferry.

“I can’t be late. If I’m not there, he’ll think I didn’t come. He’ll assume I wasn’t waiting—”

“Breathe,” she ordered. We were in her car because Derrick’s car was safely stowed at his buddy’s. Parking in my neighborhood was too ridiculous, so I’d been keeping the car there other than drives like the one to Dad’s birthday. But if Derrick heard about the car being there and saw me not on the pier, he might assume the worst. My thoughts were maybe not the most rational, which was undoubtedly why Sabrina ordered me again. “Inhale, exhale. And here’s the community center. And lordy, look at the hunky sailor loading the buses.”

“I thought you were done with navy personnel.” Now that we were here and the tension in my spine was ebbing, I could tease more.

“I’m feeling a change of heart coming on.” She laughed wickedly as she finished parking. “Now let’s run.”

“You’re in heels,” I reminded her as I grabbed my stuff and she fluffed out her hair.

“If I fall, that nice petty officer will be obligated to pick me up,” she huffed as we trotted across the parking lot.

“True that.” I lugged my sign under one arm and readjusted the balloons.

“We made it,” she crowed as we managed to be the last two on board before the bus doors closed.

“Arthur, over here!” a familiar voice called. “We saved you a seat.”

“Mom?” I had to blink and blink again. But sure enough, she and Dad were there near the front, having saved seats. “What are you doing here?”

I sank down next to her while Sabrina ended up beside my befuddled father.

“We love Derrick too,” my mom said brightly and squeezed my arm. “I didn’t want you waiting alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said, still slightly dazed.

“I didn’t know you were bringing Sabrina,” Mom said apologetically as the bus started to move. “I still would have come, but—”

“No, I mean, I haven’t been alone this whole time.” I spoke slowly, puzzling deep thoughts out, same as when a music composition finally started to come together on paper for me, moving from vague awareness to deeper understanding.

“Of course not.” My mom shook her head like she might check my temperature next. And maybe she needed to, because it was only now hitting me that I hadn’t been alone this whole time. I’d had Liam and Craig distracting me with the game they were beta testing, Sabrina bringing me coffee, Mom calling to check on me, Stacey sending me cookies, Roger’s wife spamming me cat memes, and the rest of the Euler clan pinging me on social media. I’d been lonely, but not alone. Like at Dad’s party when I’d realized I was part of some new club, but now I actually understood that club had been there all along. It was part of what defined us as a family, the teamwork that went into the service at the heart of our identity. I’d always been a part of it. Even when I’d stood out, I’d still belonged.

I hadn’t been alone, but more importantly neither was Derrick. Maybe this right here was one of the things I could bring him.

“We’re family.” My voice was still woozy, like I was recovering from a gut punch.

“We are,” Mom assured me.

“I’m ride or die with you, bestie.” Sabrina reached across the aisle to touch my arm. “Silly sign and all. Which if he doesn’t appreciate, he’s an idiot.”

“Oh, let me see.” Mom peered around me. I BET ON LOVE my sign read. Frowning, Mom tilted her head. “But you hate bets and wagers.”

“I also hate long-distance relationships and yet here I am, going all-in on one.” My voice was way less cranky than it had been at Dad’s party. The long distance was less a roadblock and more a fact, like the weather, something we’d have to deal with but not insurmountable.

“I’m proud of you.” Putting an arm around me, Mom squeezed me tight. “But not because you chose this particular outcome. Because you figured out what you wanted and you’re going for it.”

“Derrick’s a lucky guy,” my dad added, making my throat go winter-sweater thick.

“Thanks.” Glancing away from all that parental approval, I tapped my sign. “I’d be here regardless but he sent me a message, so I’m sending one back.”

“Oh? Do tell! What did it say? Was it deeply romantic?” Sabrina leaned forward, eyes flashing and thick eyelashes fluttering.

“More like highly private,” I countered, then softened my tone. “But yes, romantic.”

I’d long since memorized every word. I love you. Maybe we can tie? I’m betting on us.

I had already known deep inside that I’d be here today, but his message had sealed the deal and ensured that I was filled with so much hope that it was a wonder I hadn’t floated through the remaining separation. Of course, I hadn’t had a good way to get Derrick a non-emergency message, but my fondest wish was that he knew and was similarly hope-filled instead of as despondent as we had both been when we parted.

This was better, so much better, and this was the part that was a choice. I was choosing hope.

As we exited the bus, that buoyant emotion lifted me even higher. My anticipation was so different this time, new nerves that had nothing to do with creating a public spectacle, and my focus was way more inward. Fuck going viral or an audience. All I needed was that ship to appear.

And then it did, at first a distant shadow, then closer, personnel on deck in gleaming uniforms, flag flapping in the breeze. Sabrina had learned from our last outing and brought opera glasses.

“Hey! I think Derrick’s on deck!” Bouncing on her heels, she shoved the little gold binoculars at me. She was right. As the boat drew closer, I could see him standing with other chiefs, proud and tall. My own posture straightened, muscles tensing with worry for the sailors on the slick deck as the sub was moved into position at the pier.

The wait was down to minutes, but each minute felt like hours, dragging on and on, each step closer to disembarking happening in slow motion. My internal soundtrack was full of dramatic pauses and rising emotion, a musical countdown, and my toes tapped along impatiently. I held my sign and balloons high, but there were so many other signs and people that the chances of him spotting us were slim.

An utterly adorable young couple got first-kiss honors, the woman’s dress with little chili peppers on it making Sabrina snap pictures and rave about the duo’s adorableness. But for all their cuteness, they weren’t Derrick and me. The universe needed to hurry up and get to my kiss, damn it.

However, I tried to find some patience for the new dad who sobbed his way through meeting a tiny blue bundle. Then finally more crew disembarked. Not Derrick, not yet.

“He’s coming,” Sabrina assured me, tugging my sleeve.

“I know, I know. Sometime this decade.” Sighing, I looked down at my shoes. Sabrina had dressed me again, and my boots were more club than hiking. Too new. Too stiff.

“No, I mean he’s coming right now. Right—”

“Here,” I breathed out as I looked up and all that waiting came to an end. And now he was here, and hilariously, I felt woefully unprepared for his presence.

He was here, looking resplendent in his white uniform, sun glinting off his medals and ribbons. He even smelled familiar, the aftershave I hadn’t caught whiff of in weeks. The few times I’d sensed it on a stranger, I’d been wistful and filled with longing. But now it was really Derrick right here in front of me, this very second, and I didn’t know what to do or say first.

He licked his lips, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. He wasn’t smiling, and my nerves reached epic levels. My inner soundtrack hit a warning note. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he no longer meant—

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I said back. A+ communicator, Arthur. Good job.

“You came.” The wonder in his tone hit me right in the heart. Maybe he too was simply too overwhelmed to smile.

“I did.” I managed a smile or at least I hoped I did. My face muscles weren’t exactly responding to my brain.

“I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you? Please?” That he thought to add the please was adorable, and finally my mouth muscles resumed working and I grinned broadly.

“You better.”