Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet) Page 16

  So he was completely surprised when a few days later he received an email from Hallie marked “Urgent.”

  Something horrible has happened. Same place. 2130. Please. H.

  Philip slammed his hand down on his desk. Shit. He knew it. She was pregnant. He’d done the math in his head the other night and now he knew it was true. Not that he didn’t love her and want to have kids with her someday, but not like this. She would have to leave the ship but they wouldn’t be able to marry until he got home unless he was charged with fraternization and faced charges.

  Wait. What if the horrible something was that she’d left his card lying around and Trixie had found it? He knew he shouldn’t have used ship’s mail since anybody could have opened it. He hadn’t signed the card, but what if Trixie knew—no, he was being paranoid.

  Maybe somebody else on the ship had done something to her. Had some guy attacked her or something? He’d kill him. Plain and simple. But she wouldn’t have done the news tonight if that had happened. No, she was pregnant. He’d noticed how drawn and tired she looked on the news lately, especially tonight. His engineering brain fast-forwarded to what he was going to do, but all he could think about was the way her father had treated her mother—and he wasn’t going to do that. He’d made his bed and now he was going to lie in it. What had she said on the sailboat that first time and again on the news tonight when she talked about sunscreen? Something about paying later for mistakes you make in your twenties?

  Just plain shit.

  Philip grabbed a handkerchief. Yup. There’d be tears. And then he caught his reflection in the mirror and saw his heavy five o’clock shadow. Should he shave? Nah. It wasn’t like there was going to be any kissing.

  He walked into the library, stomach clenched, jaw tight, heart rate totally out of control. She was already at the table, looking haunted with dark smudges under her eyes. It felt like visiting day in prison as he crossed the room to meet her at a public table. And now she was going to give him the verdict.

  Philip pulled out a chair and sat. His mind raced. His heart raced. The next minute could ring a death knell for his career.

  Hallie pushed a piece of folded paper across the table.

  It was so bad she had to write it down.

  He looked at it lying there between them. His eyes flickered up to hers. She nodded toward the paper.

  Anxiety coiled in the pit of Philip’s stomach as he opened the note.

  Captain Amerson is my father.

  Chapter 18

  Philip’s heart started beating again. Hard. His chin dropped to his chest, forcing every breath of air from his body. Then he took off his glasses, laid them on the table, rubbed his eyes, and tried to clear his mind.

  Overload.

  The initial rush that Hallie wasn’t pregnant was quickly surpassed by the impact of her note. His immediate reaction was that she’d nailed it. Not only the Captain’s eyes—but the eyes of his son, Andy—popped into his head. And when he glanced up at the woman sitting across from him at the table? Those same eyes stared back at him. He’d never have put it together on his own, but he sure as shit would have gotten it on a multiple-choice test.

  He knew he had seen her eyes somewhere before. They had haunted him but he could never put his finger on it. The first time he noticed had been right after they’d made love on the sailboat. Probably because he’d recently chatted with the Captain at a party. They had been talking about his son, Andy, who was Philip’s classmate at the Naval Academy. Philip remembered thinking how much Andy looked like his dad, especially his eyes. His cornflower blue eyes, he now realized.

  Just like the Thanksgiving dishes.

  Philip exhaled another sigh of resignation and held up a single finger telling Hallie to hold on another second. Then he shut his eyes as the facts clicked into place like dominoes. He didn’t understand the Rick part because the Captain’s name was Andrew, so maybe “Rick” had lied to Hallie’s mother, but everything else made perfect sense. Amerson had flown F-14 Tomcats, obviously in the late-eighties. The age would be right. About fifty. He was tall. Well over six feet. And as far as Philip knew, the CO was a classic jet jock type. A player. Handsome, smooth talking, and very charming with the women. Philip had witnessed it at every party at his house, and he knew his son had been. Probably still was.

  Assy. That was what he, Nick, and Sky had called Andy Amerson at the Academy. Assy Amerson. Big lacrosse jock, mid-shipman battalion commander, ladies’ man, and now a fucking jet jock himself, and most likely Hallie’s half-brother. If Assy was any indication of how the Captain had behaved at that age, well then there you have it. He’d obviously learned from the master.

  Big Assy and Little Assy. The all Navy Father/Son Prick Team.

  Philip knew what he wanted to do, which was to walk around the table and take Hallie in his arms, but he had to think of what he could do.

  Taking out a pen, he curled his left hand around and scribbled a note.

  Fan Room 03-181–10Q 5 minutes

  He slipped it to her and then walked out of the library. Now he was glad he had scoped out the fan rooms in a weak moment, just in case he decided they needed to talk. No matter what she’d done to him, Hallie needed him now. Once again in her life, she’d done nothing wrong, yet she was being punished.

  It seemed like only a minute before she slipped into the fan room and into his waiting arms. Her tears started immediately.

  “Oh, Philip, I’m sorry. I know you told me not to contact you, but I needed you so much. I didn’t know who else to—”

  “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be all right,” he mumbled into her hair as he held her tightly. God, it felt good to have his arms around her again. But that’s not what they were here for. He pushed back from her, holding her at arm’s length, to support her or to keep her body away from his, he wasn’t sure which. “What’s going on?”

  “I found out the Captain’s my father. It was awful.”

  “How?”

  “I’m starting a new project, interviewing people for the broadcast each night and we decided to start with the CO. So I went up to his cabin today to chat with him before I interviewed him on camera. I had a whole list of questions, but as soon as I saw his eyes up close, I realized they looked familiar and I thought about my mom saying, ‘You have his eyes.’ I mean, I met him on the Bridge for the fly-on, but he was wearing sunglasses. You know, those aviator shades. No wonder I didn’t see his eyes. I remember thinking about his being tall, but I didn’t give it another thought because his first name is Andrew.

  “Years ago I Googled all the Ricks and Richards who were pilots in the ‘80s, especially with Irish names, but they either flew the wrong aircraft or were stationed on the wrong coast. But all of a sudden today, I realized my mom might’ve made up his name to protect him, because the Captain’s eyes were just so…and the whole time I was trying to wrap my brain around that, I realized…”

  She started to hyperventilate, barely able to get the words out.

  He took her by the shoulders. “Realized what?”

  Her lips trembled. “That he was looking at me like the other guys on the ship do. He was…”

  Fresh tears.

  “Son of a bitch!” he yelled, slamming the bulkhead with his flat hand, not caring who heard them. “He hit on you?”

  Philip reached for the door, but she stopped him. Good thing too, because he was so lost in a testosterone fog, he would’ve made a freaking fool of himself.

  Hallie pulled herself together and continued. “Well, he said a few things I didn’t like, but mostly it was the way he looked at me that was all wrong. I could have handled it if I wasn’t trying to figure out if he was my father at the same time. I was already creeped out about the Rick thing but now my guy-dar was going berserk.”

  Phi
lip took her in his arms again, rocking her, stroking her back, and mumbling comforting words to her. Then he gently pulled away, his eyes direct and probing. “Are you sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have besides look at you? Did he?”

  She turned and looked at the door. “Shhh. Keep it down. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay. I want to know every single thing that happened up there!”

  “It wasn’t so much what he said or did, just how he looked at me. Women pick up on that, even when men don’t think we know that they’re checking us out. Maybe I read him wrong, but I’ve been dealing with men for a long time, and he gave me the creeps.”

  “That asshole!” Philip let her go and started pacing in the tight space. It was ingrained in his genes to want to protect her. And the frustration built because he was powerless to do it. He turned to her. “Why’d you go up there alone?”

  “Because I didn’t know there was any reason not to. Are you saying this was my fault?”

  He reached for her again and kissed her forehead. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not your fault.” She couldn’t help it if every man on the ship was in love with her. Even the CO. “He was the one who was a fool for not having a female officer in there too. Probably wanted to have some private time with the hot new newscaster. And the guy’s up for admiral. What an idiot. What did he say to you? I want to know everything.”

  Hallie’s eyes sparkled as she removed some papers from her pocket. “I’m a reporter, remember? I took notes.”

  Philip shook his head in disbelief at just how good she was.

  “As soon as I realized he was being too familiar with me and then, that he might be ‘Rick,’ I jotted everything down. And when I got back to my desk, I typed it up. Just in case I ever need it.”

  Hallie opened the papers and told him the story.

  “At ease, Petty Officer McCabe,” the Captain had said when she entered his at-sea cabin and stood at attention. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, sir, for granting me this time. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. This is a pleasant interruption to an otherwise hectic day. Gives me a chance to tell you what an outstanding job you’re doing on the nightly news. Not only have you improved morale around here since you took over the show, but your shipmates look forward to it every night, Hallie.”

  Hallie?

  Her first thought was how inappropriate for the CO to be calling a second-class petty officer by her first name. Especially the first time he met her. Alone in his cabin. While sporting a smile that tap danced damn close to the PC boundary line, with a twinkle in his blue eyes that definitely did not belong there.

  “McCabe will be fine, sir.” And just as she’d re-established that boundary, she realized his bright blue almond-shaped eyes were identical to the ones that stared back at her in the mirror every morning.

  What did Philip call them? Cornflower blue?

  Rick?

  Wait. The Captain’s name was Andrew. No way could this be Rick. Hallie glanced at the embroidered wings over the breast pocket of his blue camouflage uniform. There were lots of pilots that age who were not Rick.

  And hadn’t her mom called him her big, strong Irishman? Wasn’t Amerson Swedish or something?

  “Thank you, sir, but I don’t do the show alone. There is a dedicated group of MCs in Public Affairs who are behind me, doing most of the work.”

  How she managed to speak, she didn’t know. Buckets of adrenaline dumped into her bloodstream as fight or flight impulses vied with each other: One cried: “Tear the bastard limb from limb,” while the other screamed, “Get the hell out of here!” Tendrils of panic curled through her gut like roots in photography. Her mind Googled every detail her mom had ever told her about Rick.

  “You got his height too,” her mom had said.

  The Captain was obviously tall, but how tall? Based on the length of his arms, he could easily stand six-foot-three.

  “Yes, but you’re the one we see. You’ve become the head cheerleader on the Blanchard, McCabe. You have single-handedly put a spring in every sailor’s step lately and I appreciate that.”

  His cool blue eyes continued to fixate on her cool blue eyes. He showed no sign of recognition and why should he? This couldn’t be Rick and even if it was, Rick didn’t even know she existed.

  Did he?

  “We all like having you bring us the news every night, even when it’s bad news. So I’m glad I got this chance to tell you how much I’ve been enjoying watching you.” A disarming smile seemed to lock in those last five words.

  Her body and soul went to high alert, double time. Either the fact that he was looking at her the same way the younger pilots did or the fact that he could possibly be her father was bad enough. Trying to process both thoughts at the same time was over the top. The “Get the hell out of here” voice was currently winning, but Hallie couldn’t move. Panic had now turned to paralysis. She acknowledged this as shock. It was the body’s way of caring for itself when it can’t process something horrific and simply shuts down.

  But then Philip’s words came back to her: “I happen to know you’re very good at pretending.” And her mother’s: “I have a daughter with balls.” And then she almost burst out laughing because now John Paul Jones was in the mix: “I have not yet begun to fight!”

  And as quickly as panic had overtaken her, a sense of calm and peace washed through her, as if her mom was hugging her and reminding her she could handle this. Besides, he couldn’t be Rick. He just couldn’t be.

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  The leer factor slid from his face and he looked away before responding. “Well, I’m just saying that the crew likes hearing what you have to say, McCabe. They’re all watching every night and that’s important, because you have valuable information to share.”

  He sounded like a freakin’ politician because that was not what he’d said. But by calling him on it, she felt a shift in the balance of power. She now knew that he knew she did not tolerate harassment. And no way was she leaving, not yet. Not until she verified he was not Rick. And while she was asking, she’d better write down every single thing that transpired. Because whatever did happen, it would be her word against his.

  Nobody took the wind out of Hallie McCabe’s sails.

  “I try to do my job the best I can. I have some questions for you, sir, if you have the time. This won’t take long.”

  They proceeded with the interview, discussing the current mission and his background. When he described his former flying days in F-14 Tomcats, Hallie swallowed hard, but realized there were lots of former F-14 pilots out there and although her father had been one of them, it probably wasn’t this one named Andrew.

  This tall man. With her eyes.

  “You know the F-14 was a helluva jet. Though landing one on a pitching carrier deck could be a little like wrestling an elephant. I enjoyed flying them. Guess I’m getting old now.” A slow smile tipped up his mouth. “The Navy retired them in 2006. The F/A-18 Super Hornet, which can practically fly itself, totally took over. My son’s flying those now.”

  “Your son? Oh, sir, you couldn’t possibly have a son old enough to fly F-18’s.”

  Flattery would get her whatever information she wanted. Because if he had had a son flying F-18’s, he would have to be older than her. And certainly Rick hadn’t left a baby at home with his wife while he was romancing Suzanne.

  “Oh, Andy’s twenty-seven. With the Flying Jacks out of Miramar.”

  So if he was Rick, he was a double bastard.

  “Oh. Well, I wonder if you’d mind helping me out with something while I’m here, sir. I’m taking an online course in international diplomacy and we’re discussing U.S. relations with Asia over the years. Did you ever go on a West Pac cruise? Maybe see some acti
on near North Korea?”

  “Yes, when I was with the Salty Dawgs. We were attached to the Kitty Hawk. We did fly some sorties, checking out things along the DMZ and near North Korea’s borders. We were flying…”

  She let him talk, but just as he seemed close to finishing, she interrupted. “Did you ever visit Japan, sir? I’ve always been fascinated by Japan. I even tried to get stationed there.” Hallie pulled out her most enthusiastic “head cheerleader of the Blanchard” smile.

  Amerson chuckled. “Yes, lots of good times in Japan.” His mouth curved into a slow, lazy smile. “Beautiful country. We spent a couple of weeks there. The Kitty Hawk needed some emergency repairs so we pulled into the shipyard. Good liberty in Japan.”

  Amusement lit his face as he waxed and waned about the good old days in Japan: flying over Mt. Fuji, trips to Tokyo, sushi, summer festivals, all she could think about was her mom waxing and waning—over too many glasses of wine—about meeting Rick when he came ashore for liberty. Just long enough to woo her and get her pregnant.

  “Oh, so you were at the shipyard in Yokosuka, sir?”

  “No, the ship was in Yokosuka, but we flew the aircraft to the air base. Didn’t want the planes sitting there in the shipyard.”

  “You mean the air facility at Atsugi?”

  Another good humored grin as he tripped down Memory Lane. “Yeah, we were in and out of Atsugi a lot that summer.”

  “And what summer would that be, sir?”

  “Let’s see. That was the cruise when…so that would be…”

  Let’s see. The summer you were screwing Suzie Q. Andy Junior was two…so…1986?

  “1986.”

  Hallie scribbled away as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

  She flew on autopilot, getting everything down in black and white so she could peruse her notes later while she put the rest of the puzzle together. She ended the interview and came to attention, clutching her clipboard. “Thank you, sir. I’ll pick out a few questions for tomorrow. Please let me know when would be a good time to come back with my camera crew and we’ll film for the broadcast. Permission to depart, sir.”