Something Like Rain (Something Like... Book 8) (45 page)

Errol sighed wistfully. “Man, does that sound nice. I hate being single.”

“That’s probably how he feels most of the time. Instead of going on dates and having fun, Jason is stuck at home because he’s committed to me. Even though I keep telling him not to be.”

Errol set aside the clippers and stretched out his legs. “Then maybe you should take the lead.”

“Huh?”

“Remember Nicki? I think you met her once. Anyway, she broke up with me, and I was definitely not willing to say goodbye. I talked her into us staying friends. Things stayed platonic, but occasionally we’d sleep together or whatever. That was enough to string me along. I don’t think she was doing that on purpose. Like you said, people get lonely, and me being there was convenient. Only when she started dating a new guy—” Errol grimaced. “That hurt like hell, but you know what? I stopped waiting around for her. I went out to a bar that night and met this completely crazy chick who helped me get over Nicki completely.”

“Are you still friends?”

“Me and Nicki? I guess so, but more like ‘Hey, we’re at the same party!’ friends instead of ‘Come over to my place for pizza and a movie.’ Your situation though… If Jason is willing to wait, why not let him?”

“Because he deserves better.” William sighed. “I want more for him and I’m not sure we’re compatible anymore. We are as people, but our lifestyles are too different now.”

“You’re married to the Coast Guard,” Errol said, nodding his understanding. “I feel the same way toward my art sometimes. But I tell you what, I’d rather have a girl in my bed at night than a bunch of my drawings.”

William frowned, remembering that old saying about loving someone and letting them go. He had always thought it was some weird test to see if they came back, but maybe it was more about loving someone enough to want them to be free. If William allowed himself to be selfish, he wanted both the Coast Guard
and
Jason. Not a guy in every port. Just one. But when he asked himself what was best for Jason, he knew what needed to be done, even if he didn’t like the solution. In fact, he hated it.

Chapter Nineteen

William was performing a routine inspection on one of the Jayhawk helicopters, making sure the oxygen system was operating correctly, when he noticed an odd sound. A hissing noise. No, that wasn’t quite right. More like sharp inhalation of air that kept repeating. He remained still in order to locate it and realized it was coming from outside the aircraft. He found Christie leaning against the helicopter, wiping her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Christie snapped to attention. Then she leveled a wrench in his direction. “I’m perfectly fine! Understand?”

“Aye-aye!” he said, raising his hands in the air. “Just don’t hit me!”

She lowered the wrench and her posture relaxed. “It’s just been a shitty day. That’s all.”

“What’s going on?”

“Max ate some bad fish and is puking up his guts. Jenny doesn’t have food poisoning—thank god—but she does have a fever. Max is taking care of her between bouts of barfing, but they need me there.”

“When’s your shift end?”

“Another thirty-six hours.”

William winced. “That’s rough. You can’t get leave?”

“During hurricane season?”

“Right.”

Christie looked him over. “I take back what I said previously. You’re lucky that you can focus on your duty now. You’ll still have time for a family someday. I don’t wish I hadn’t met Max or had Jenny, but sometimes I wish it had all happened after the Coast Guard.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Forget I even said that. I don’t mean it.”

“I get what you’re saying,” William said. “It’s hard being pulled in two different directions. It’s not that you don’t love them or your job. You just wish you didn’t have to choose between them.”

“Exactly!” Christie said. “Somebody clone me because I want to be both places at once.”

“I’ve only got another twelve hours to go,” William said. “I can check on them when my shift is over. Cook dinner for Jenny or read her a story. I’m guessing Max won’t be up for either.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re the best! You’ll make a wonderful father, you know that?” She poked him in the stomach and smiled. “Just don’t rush into anything.”

“I’ll try not to.”

They turned to face fast-approaching footsteps. Lieutenant Francis Peck. His name might not sound macho, but Francis’s build was compact and hard, his jaw often flexing while he fidgeted, waiting for the next call to action. Then his bright blue eyes would light up, like now. “We’ve got an SAR!” he said, brushing past them.

The call came over the radio seconds later. William and Christie sprang into action. All thoughts of his personal problems fled as they geared up and got into the zone. Search and rescue missions required focus, not just to save the victims, but to ensure proper protocol was followed to minimize risk to themselves and others. With impressive speed, William and his crew were soon in the air.

“Aviation hobbyist called it in,” Francis said over the radio built into their helmets. The nose of the helicopter dipped as it cruised out over the Atlantic. William was already scanning the waters below for anything unusual. “Pilot spotted an inflatable dinghy taking on water. No engine, just paddles.”

“Number of survivors?” William asked.

“Two reported,” Francis responded.

“Last known whereabouts?” Christie inquired.

“Fifteen miles out to sea.”

She exchanged a look with William. “They paddled that far out?”

The crackle of the radio mixed with Francis’s laughter. “We haven’t had any distress calls from vessels, so it looks that way.”

William returned his attention to the water. How the hell had they managed to get so far, and what was their goal? None of that truly mattered. Locate and rescue. Questions could wait. They were fighting against time, or more accurately, the fuel remaining in the helicopter, always needing to calculate how much they needed to return to base. They were in luck today. The aviation hobbyist was making repeated passes over the survivors, reporting on their location as it slowly changed. William and his crew were able to arrive on scene with minimal diversions. As soon as he had visual confirmation, he assessed the situation. The raft was useless, half of the yellow plastic submerged, the rest flat and floating on the surface. He saw two men clinging to a flotation device, but he couldn’t determine what variety. When he saw they weren’t wearing life jackets, he decided risk of exhaustion was the greatest threat, since neither person seemed to have much grip on whatever was keeping them afloat.

“I’m jumping,” William informed his crew. No time to be lowered down on the hook.

“Aye-aye,” Christie confirmed. As flight mechanic, they were a team. Of all the crew, he relied most on her competence to keep him safe, but he already knew from experience that he was in capable hands. William sat on the floor by the open cargo door, legs dangling over the edge until the helicopter had lowered enough. Then he leapt, plummeting fifteen feet through the air. He felt no fear, nor did he pay heed to the sensation of his stomach being left behind. He shot into the ocean and allowed the water to slow his descent naturally before he kicked his way to the surface. Once he emerged, he raised an arm to signal to Christie that he was okay. Then he oriented and started swimming, cutting a line toward the survivors.

He reassessed the situation when close enough: two men, both younger than himself, their faces red with sun and taut with fear. They were definitely not old enough to drink from the small silver keg they clung to. William’s initial assessment had been incorrect. They did have a life jacket, but only one between them. They had wrapped it around the keg to increase its buoyancy. He couldn’t decide if this was inspired or stupid, but he didn’t have time to deliberate.

“My name is William,” he said as he approached the survivors. “I’m a rescue swimmer with the United States Coast Guard. You’re going to be okay.”

The skies were clear, the waters warm, and the ocean calm aside from choppiness caused by the helicopter. This was simply a matter of getting both men to the basket that Christie had surely deployed by now so they could be hoisted to safety.

“I’m going to take you back with me one at a time,” he explained. “Before you know it, you’ll be on dry land.”

He reached for the survivor closest to him, but the man let go of the keg to knock his arm away. This caused the survivor’s head to dunk beneath the surface. William groped in the water and grabbed the man’s shirt to get his head above water again.

“Not me!” the survivor spluttered, still fighting against him. William could smell the beer on his breath. “Take my brother first!”

“I’m the better swimmer!” his sibling protested. “I’m fine. Go with him!”

The first survivor managed to slip out of William’s grasp, grabbing for the keg, which bobbed dangerously. “Damn it, Richie! I’m older! If anything happens to you, Mom will—”

“I’m not going first! I was a swimmer in high school—”

“Junior high!”

“
And
freshman year,” Richie growled. “You just never went to my swim meets!”

“I’m your older brother! You have to listen to me.”

“Screw you, Tony! Go with him or I swear I’ll swim away and—”

“Don’t you dare!” Tony swiped at his brother, losing his grip on the keg.

Richie let go of it too, arms waving and legs kicking to propel himself backwards and away from them both. The situation was getting out of control!

“Stop!” William shouted, but it didn’t sound very convincing. He thought of Kelly—how he so easily harnessed anger—and did his best imitation. “If you morons don’t shut up and listen to me, I’ll leave you both here to die! Understand?” That got their attention, so William continued in this manner. “Richie, get your ass back here and put the life jacket on. Keep hold of the keg. You’ll be fine. As for you…” He grabbed Tony around the neck in a maneuver that had been drilled into him during “A” school. At the time he couldn’t imagine a survivor resisting their own rescue, but now he was grateful for the training. William started moving sideways through the water, dragging Tony along with him. Any protests were silenced by each yanking motion and the water lapping over them as they neared the helicopter. The basket was ready and waiting. It could fit two people in a pinch, but he didn’t trust Tony to remain there while William retrieved his brother. He’d probably swim after him in the name of drunken heroism. Once Tony was inside the basket, William instructed him to hold on tight and signaled Christie to hoist him up. He waited long enough to make sure Tony wouldn’t try jumping or anything stupid like that. Then he headed back for the other brother.

When he got there, Richie’s mouth was open wide as he gulped in air. His head was barely above water, chin sinking into the life jacket. “Cramp,” he managed to gasp.

“I’ve got you,” William replied, putting an arm around him. “You can let go.”

“There’s still a few beers left in that keg,” Richie said as they abandoned it. “You should come back for it. It’ll be your reward.”

William slowly began the return swim. “After what you two put me through, I’ll need something stronger.”

“Thanks for taking him first,” Richie said. “I really am the better swimmer, even if it was just junior high. I lied.”

“That’s okay,” William said. “We’re not actually with the Coast Guard. We’re pirates. I hope you like swabbing decks.” Then he got serious about swimming, heading for the basket that had just splashed down. Once he made sure Richie was secure, he signaled Christie again, exhaling with relief when the second survivor was safely aboard. As he waited for her to drop the hook that he would connect to his suit and ride up with, he decompressed enough to feel a sense of pride. He had made a lot of sacrifices to get here, but when he did something useful like this, it all seemed worth it.

“Two more lives saved,” Christie said when they were back at the base. She held up a fist so he could bump it. “Well done.”

“Well done yourself,” William replied. “Two more rescues though. I don’t know if we saved their lives.”

Christie laughed. “Not this again! You really think they would have been okay without our intervention?”

William shrugged. “They could have floated there long enough for a fishing boat to pick them up. They were smart to hold on to that keg.”

“They were stupid to have it in the first place,” Christie retorted. “As usual, you hold yourself to an impossibly high standard.”

“It’s a rescue swimmer thing.”

“I guess. When I finally get to go home, I plan on telling my family that I helped saved lives.”

“I’ll tell them for you,” William said. “That’ll be the story Jenny hears before bed. Her mother the hero.”

Christie patted his arm affectionately. “You’re something special. If you do have someone, I hope they realize how lucky they are.”

He didn’t reply to that. He couldn’t, but he appreciated her kindness. For the remaining hours of his shift, he thought again about what it must feel like to have a spouse and child waiting at home—one full of life, not a minimal barrack, empty and silent. He imagined such a place for himself, replacing Max with Jason, although he would gladly keep Jenny. His fantasy soon fell apart. William was required to live on base. Jason wouldn’t be allowed. And if his boyfriend did need him—if he was the one with food poisoning—Jason would be sick and alone. No child to keep him company, no Ben and Tim either, just Jason shivering on a bathroom floor after throwing up, William unable to carry him to bed because of his duty. Twelve hours, forty-eight hours, two entire weeks. The idea of leaving Jason on his own for so long—even if he wasn’t sick—made his heart ache. Then he realized that’s what he had been doing all along, except worse, because William had abandoned him for months at a time. Entire seasons! He couldn’t let that continue.

He knew their relationship needed to end, but he wasn’t entirely sure how. They couldn’t break up because technically they weren’t dating. Jason never took William seriously when he said he should move on, and no wonder since when they were together again, they always picked up where they had left off. Words had become ineffective, leaving action as the only option. No more cruising into town and pretending that nothing had changed between them. No more stringing Jason along.

He pulled out his phone, sending a text.
I’m glad we’ve managed to stay friends.

With benefits?
Jason texted back, adding a smiley face.

Just friends
, William replied.

If that’s what you want to call this, then I’m okay with it.

William sighed. He thought of the two brothers, both so desperate to do the right thing for each other that they only made the situation worse. Words definitely wouldn’t be enough this time. One of them would have to be the first to swim away.

* * * * *

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was all but dead. A federal appeals court had forbidden the military from further discrimination against openly gay service members, the president himself certifying that by the end of September, DADT would be no more. This was cause for celebration. William came out to Christie right away, since she had always expressed interest in his personal life. She hadn’t been surprised, but her response had caught him off guard.