One Year Home Read online

  Now I just want it to be over. I want to be free of obligations, so I can figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.

  I direct Muncie to head toward Ocean Beach. We’ll work our way north from there.

  “This is so beautiful,” Amy says when we get our first glimpse of the Pacific.

  “Ocean Beach is where the hippies and stoners hang out.” On a quick glance, I can see it hasn’t changed much in the years I was gone. It’s busier and more built up, but the vibe is the same as it always was. “Makes for some good people watching.”

  In Mission Beach, the bustling boardwalk is mobbed on this late-summer afternoon. People are skateboarding, jogging and rollerblading, as well as eating at sidewalk restaurants and riding bikes. Muncie has no choice but to drive slowly in the congested traffic, stopping frequently to allow people to cross the street to the beach.

  We make our way north, passing through Pacific Beach on the way toward La Jolla Cove, where we start to look for parking. Thanks to my handicapped placard, we’re able to find a spot that’s close to the main thoroughfare. As much as I hate having that goddamned placard, it does make things easier at times like this.

  While the others get out, I have to wait for Muncie to get my crutches from the back. I debate going without them, but visions of toppling over in front of Julianne and her sister have me gratefully accepting the crutches from Muncie.

  The others are considerate about walking slowly to match my pace. I try not to be self-conscious about how freaking slow I am. If they only knew what I used to be capable of…

  “The seals tend to hang out at the Children’s Pool, while the sea lions gather closer to the cliffs.”

  “How can you tell if they’re seals or sea lions?” Julianne asks.

  “Seals flop around on their bellies on land and tend to be quieter, while the sea lions have visible ears, are talkative and use their flippers to get around.” I nod to a bench. “I can’t really walk on sand yet, so I’ll wait for you there.”

  I can tell they’re reluctant to leave me alone. I pull a ball cap from my back pocket and put it on, drawing it down low over my face so I won’t be recognized. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll stay with you.” Julianne gives Amy a nudge toward the beach. “You guys go on ahead. Take pictures for me.”

  An odd look passes between the sisters before Amy and Muncie head toward the beach, while Julianne and I settle on the bench. It’s a gorgeous, warm afternoon, and I tip my face up toward the sun. I try not to think of the utter misery we experienced during the endless days we spent baking under a merciless sun in Afghanistan and Pakistan while we were on the hunt for Al Khad. We were either baking or freezing, or so it seemed.

  “You don’t have to babysit me. You should see the seals. They’re adorable.”

  “Amy will take pictures for me.”

  “You like to hike?”

  “I do, but I don’t get to very often living in the city.”

  “You should hit Torrey Pines while you’re here. I’d take you, but I’m not really ready to hike quite yet. Used to be one of my favorite things to do here.”

  “You’ll get back there again. It’s just going to take some time.”

  “So I’m told.”

  “Does your leg hurt?”

  Normally, that question would annoy me. But I don’t mind it coming from her. Why that is, I don’t know. Maybe I’ve gotten used to her and her endless questions.

  “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

  She’s misinterpreted my silence, and that makes me feel bad. “It’s fine. I don’t mind you asking. It doesn’t hurt like it did. My biggest issue now is the pervasive weakness from the infection I contracted after I lost my leg. I was immobile for a month, and the doctors tell me it could take more than a year to come back from that.”

  “Wow.”

  “That’s why I still need the crutches while I rebuild my strength.”

  “I’m sorry for all you’ve been through and that I’m making it worse just by being here.”

  “You’re not.” I can’t bear that I’ve made her feel that way. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

  She snorts out a laugh. “If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that…”

  I turn so I can see her better. “Guys say that to you?”

  “All the time.”

  “What the hell is wrong with them?”

  “I think it’s more about what’s wrong with me. I’ve been told I can be a bit much, as you’ve probably seen.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  “That’s kind of you to say, but I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”

  “I don’t give random compliments. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but charm isn’t my strong suit.”

  She laughs, as I’d hoped she would. “I’ve definitely noticed.”

  “I’m sorry, Julianne. I’ve been a total dick, and… I’m sorry.”

  “If I’d been through what you have, I’d probably be a dick, too.”

  “What I’ve been through is in no way your fault, and it’s not fair for me to take it out on you.”

  “It’s okay. Really.” She bites her bottom lip, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s thinking.

  “Whatever you want to say, just say it. Let’s clear the air so we can get through this without any added drama.”

  “I’m all for that, but I just wonder…”

  “What?”

  “If you really don’t want to do the tour, why don’t you just say so? They can’t make you do it, can they?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Then tell them you don’t want to.”

  I glance at her, brow raised. “Is that the sort of advice you ought to be giving me?”

  “I’m not thinking about my career right now, Captain. I’m thinking about what’s best for someone who’s already endured a nightmare. I’d hate to be in any way responsible for compounding the trauma.”

  “My name is John, and it’s nice of you to be concerned.”

  “If it’s going to make everything worse, don’t do it, John.”

  She’s so sincere and truly adorable. I smile at her, and it doesn’t feel forced. For the first time in a long time, it feels natural and good. “There’s a reason why I haven’t told them to fuck off with their media tour.”

  “What’s that?”

  I take a moment to collect my thoughts. “You asked about my childhood earlier.”

  She holds up a hand to stop me. “If that’s off-limits, so be it. You don’t owe me or anyone explanations.”

  “Maybe not, but I’d like to tell you if you’re still willing to hear it.”

  “I’m still willing.” She curls a leg under herself and turns so she’s facing me, giving me her full attention.

  “I don’t know anything about my parents. I was taken in by a foster family that had to give me up a few years later when the dad got sick with cancer. After that, I bounced around a lot, and by the time I was a teenager, I was on my way to trouble. I ended up in front of a judge, who gave me a choice between jail and the military.

  “That’s how I ended up in the Navy. I can’t imagine what would’ve become of me if I hadn’t taken that path.” I look over at her and find that she’s hanging on my every word. “I’m doing the tour for all the kids like me out there who might be lost and trying to find their way. If one kid chooses the Navy over jail, then it’ll have been worth it to me.”

  “That’s amazing,” she says softly. “That you’re willing to put yourself through something so difficult because it might help someone else.”

  I shrug off praise I don’t want. “I figure since I was outed, something good may as well come of it.”

  “It’s very admirable.”

  “I’m not doing it for that reason.”

  “Which only makes it more so.”

  “Don’t make me out to be a hero, Julianne. I’m not.”

  �
�How can you say that? The whole world thinks you’re a hero.”

  “I’ve made all kinds of mistakes, just like everyone else. I’m as far from perfect as anyone can be. Look at what I did to Ava. I’d think that alone would be enough to make you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you, and neither does she.”

  “She ought to. I put her through hell.”

  “She doesn’t. She loved you. She probably still does.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” I stare out at the endless ocean. “I ruined the best thing to ever happen to me.” When the glare of the sun on the water becomes too intense, I blink and then glance over at Julianne. “I was going to ask her to marry me. The minute we got home. That was going to be the first thing I said to her. And it nearly happened. We almost had him at the four-and-a-half-year mark.”

  “What happened?”

  “We’re still not sure, but we think one of our local informants turned on us. When we raided the compound, Al Khad was long gone.” I blink again when I realize I’m staring at her and drinking in the details of her pretty face. “I think all the time about what might’ve been different if that raid had gone as planned. I might not have lost my friends or my leg. I would’ve gotten home before Ava’s five-year deadline, and maybe she would’ve forgiven me when I had a chance to explain it to her.” I shrug. “I’ll never know now, but I do wonder what might’ve been.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to ask her.”

  “It’s okay. She probably would’ve told me to eff off after disappearing on her for almost five years.”

  “I don’t think she would’ve done that. When we first met her…”

  “What?” I’m instantly on alert, greedy for whatever she can tell me about Ava.

  “She was still a long way from fine where you were concerned. It took a lot of time and therapy and love. It wasn’t like she moved to New York, met Eric and forgot about you. It wasn’t like that at all.”

  “I guess I’m glad to hear that, even though you’re probably way out on a limb talking to me about her.”

  “Kind of, but I don’t want you to think she just got over you. When she heard about the raid and saw the video, she was a disaster for weeks, wondering what’d become of you.”

  I wince. “I was in the hospital.”

  “She found that out much later. She thought that maybe you’d decided not to contact her.”

  “I know, and I’m so sorry about that. I hate that I did that to her.”

  “That’s the thing—it’s not your fault. If we put the blame where it belongs, then it falls squarely at the feet of a terrorist who ruined the lives of thousands of people, including you and Ava.”

  “I should’ve trusted her with the truth. I regret that I didn’t. I could’ve told her. She never would’ve told anyone else.”

  “You did what you thought was right at the time.”

  “And Ava paid an awful price for that.”

  “She’s also gotten to experience true love—twice. That lucky bitch.” She smiles as she says that, to let me know she’s joking. “It’s not really fair that she’s had it twice when some of us are still looking for the first one.”

  I’m intrigued by the revealing statement that, coupled with what she told me earlier, has me again wondering what’s wrong with the men in New York City.

  A high-pitched scream from the sidewalk jolts us out of the bubble we’ve been in.

  “You’re that Navy SEAL!” An older woman has spotted me and is coming at me, iPhone in hand, ready to take a photo and make a scene.

  Julianne stands, putting herself between me and the woman. “Stop.”

  The woman stops.

  “Back off.”

  “I don’t know who you think you are—”

  “Back at you. Captain West is not available at the moment. Move along.”

  I sit back and watch the show, impressed by the competent, unyielding way she dispatches the woman, who storms off, sputtering with indignance. I hear her say, “What a bitch,” before she rejoins her group, who stood off to the side, watching the encounter.

  Julianne returns to her seat on the bench. “Anyway… Where were we?”

  “You were telling me that Ava is a lucky bitch because she’s had true love twice and you’re still looking for the first one.”

  She looks down, seeming embarrassed. “Let’s forget I said that.”

  I laugh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “You have no idea how much I wish I could take that back.”

  “Too late now. Your secret is out. And PS, thanks for running interference for me.”

  “No problem. People are ridiculous.”

  “Yes, they often are. I’m glad you’re on my side, Julianne. I wouldn’t want to cross you.”

  “I am on your side. I hope you know that.”

  “I do. I appreciate all you’re doing, and I promise to be less of a dick going forward.”

  “That’d help, and by the way, everyone who matters calls me Jules.”

  Is that her way of telling me I matter? I have no idea, but I’m honored to have been let into her inner circle. “Jules.” I try it on for size.

  “Don’t wear it out,” she says, flashing a small grin.

  “I’ll try not to.”

  “John?”

  “Yes, Jules?”

  “I just want to say… I think the reason you’re doing the media tour is amazing, and I’m positive it’s going to make a difference for someone.”

  I’m unreasonably moved. “Thank you. I hope so.”

  Before I can think of anything else to say to her, I see Muncie and Amy heading back to us, talking and laughing. Is Muncie… Why is he soaking wet?

  “What happened?” Jules asks when they join us.

  Amy is laughing so hard, she can barely speak, while Muncie holds his T-shirt, which is wet from the chest down, away from his skin, as if that might help it dry quicker.

  “Got hit by a wave.”

  “It was so funny.” Amy has tears in her eyes from laughing. “One minute, we were watching the seals, and the next, he was soaking wet.” She loses it laughing again.

  “And somehow she managed to not get a drop on her, even though she was standing right next to me.”

  Amy is helpless with laughter.

  “Glad I could provide you with entertainment.” Muncie seems amused and annoyed at the same time.

  Amy wipes tears from her eyes. “Oh, you did.”

  “I wish I could’ve seen that.” I mean that sincerely. Muncie spends so much time poking at me that I would’ve truly enjoyed seeing him get doused by a wave. “No one deserves it more than you do, Commander.”

  He scowls at me. “I can think of someone who deserves it more than I do.”

  Touché. I laugh at the ferocious look on his face. Somewhere along the way, the guy has become a friend, and I like that I can spar with him this way and know that he gives as good as he gets. Sometimes people are funny about being real with officers who outrank them. I consider myself lucky that Muncie isn’t one of them. I needed someone who’d keep it real with me, and he’s been a godsend. Not that I can tell him that. Not yet anyway.

  “Who wants to eat?” I ask them.

  Jules raises her hand. “Me.”

  “Do we need to take you home to change first?” I ask Muncie.

  “Nah, I’m fine.”

  “We’ll sit outside so you can air-dry.”

  “Great.”

  We make our way back to the car, and I try not to notice the wet, squishy sound coming from Muncie.

  Amy loses it laughing again.

  Jules glances at me to share her amusement, and I feel a sense of connection to her after the conversation we had on the bench. I shared more with her in those minutes than I have with anyone, even Ava, who only recently learned the truth about my childhood. I’m not sure why I felt compelled to open up to Julianne, but now that I have, it seems we’ve reached an understanding of
sorts. I’m glad she knows why I’m doing the tour and what I hope to accomplish. It’s much better to think of her as an ally than an adversary.

  I just hope I can keep my promise to change my attitude, which has sucked in recent weeks. Losing Ava almost killed me. I’m not entirely sure I’ll ever recover from the blow of finding out that it was truly over between us. That blow, on top of losing my leg and my two closest friends, has turned me into someone I barely recognize. Gone is the hard-charging, hard-loving naval officer I once was. What remains is a man as fragile as a newborn, trying to find his way in a world that no longer makes sense to him.

  As I watch the scenery go by on the ride to Encinitas, I vow to make an effort to be pleasant with the people who’re trying to help me navigate that new world. It’s not Muncie’s fault that I got dealt a shitty hand, and it sure as hell isn’t Julianne’s fault.

  Jules. She wants me to call her Jules.

  I feel something inside me relax, the way muscles would after a strenuous workout. The effort it’s taking to hold on to the rage is wearing me out. I put the window down and let the warm air wash over me. For the first time since I came to in the hospital after losing a month of my life to infection, I feel glad to be alive.

  Chapter Seven

  JULIANNE

  Something changed on that bench by the beach. He’s like a different person—friendly, chatty, engaging, curious.

  I have zero defenses against this version of him. Sitting across from him over a late lunch at Roberto’s, I want to wallow in this John, listen to the cadence of his deep voice and sigh with pleasure as his eyes light up with delight when something amuses him. This was Ava’s John, before his life was changed forever by a terrorist. This was the man she waited more than five years for, hoping every day that he would come back to her.

  I have to admit that when I first knew her, I wondered what kind of man would have her wait so long for him, without any information about where he was the entire time. Now I get it, and I ache for her, for him, for them.