“It was rather wonderful,” Ashley said. “I was impressed.”
Really…?“Subjective opinions generally stay out of reports,” Jim pointed out.
“Generally,” Ashley agreed. “But in this case, your actions were in direct support of both Lieutenant King—and me. I want to make sure, first, that Dunk understands that, and secondly, that both you and he know how very much I appreciated what you did and said. Speaking up is important. It matters.”
Jim was sitting there, grinning at her like an idiot, and she was smiling back at him, and okay, yeah, he was supposed to be distracting Clark. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, okay,” as he turned back to the kid. He cleared his throat a second time. Where was he before they were sidetracked… Ah,writing skills. “That was the deciding factor, for me—to join the Navy as an officer—the fact that writing is one of my strengths. And I’m not saying I like it, either, but I can definitely get it done efficiently. And that’s important because officers and enlisted go through BUD/S—SEAL training—together. The challenges are the same for all SEAL candidates—it’s honestly the hardest thing I’ve ever done—but the officers also have to be, well, officers. And that means we write reports, if reports need to get written. Same goes after you’re a SEAL. You get back from training, or even an op, and everyone showers and goes out for a beer, except not so fast there you—because the officers need to write up their reports.”
“Why would anyone want to be an officer?” Clark asked, but then answered his own question. “Because you’re in command.”
“Ding,” Jim said. “Also, the uniforms are prettier.”
“What do you wish you knew,” Ashley asked, “before you went through BUD/S? I mean, what do you know now—what have you learned—that would’ve helped you as a… you called it aSEAL candidate…?”
“Yeah, candidate, and that’s… a very good question,” Jim said. “I would say… Go in knowing your strengths, and your weaknesses. Know what you’re good at—as well as what you’re not. Be realistic about it. And then find the guys who can’t do what you can, and help them. And the ones who learn to turn around and do the same for you—to help you with the challenges thattheycan do well but you can’t…? They’re the ones you keep close. They’ll be your teammates for life.”
Clark was nodding. Ashley had never seen her brother listening quite so intently.
“Because think of it like this,” Jim said. “Okay. First, the best mindset for going into BUD/S is to be open to everything. And to recognize that it’s attitude that’s going to get you through the program. Too many people focus on the physicality. Yeah, you need to be strong, and you need to be fast, well, fast enough. I’m one of those fast-enough guys—or I was, once-upon-a-time. But my strength is that I don’t quit. I may not win the race, but I can run forever—or I could. You know, before Knees-mageddon…? I can still swim forever. Again, I’m not winning the race, but if you need someone to cross the channel with only a pair of fins, I’m your man.
“At the same time, when I’m making a team for an op, I’m gonna look for someone whoisfast—like Rio Rosetti or your sister, here.” He pointed to Ashley. “And I’m gonna want a hospital corpsman along for the ride, like Thomas King. A chief like Dunk. A gear-head, a sniper, a languages expert… Everyone’s got a skill—a strength—that makes them elite. And yeah, we can all shoot, and swim, and run, and we all know first aid, and most of us have at least two other languages we can use to communicate in a pinch. But when you put us together, into a seven or eight man team…? We’re the very best of all of us. We’re unstoppable.
“Now,” he said, “when you go into BUD/S, there’s a tendency for guys to connect—to become friends—with like-minded guys. Gear-heads find other gear-heads. Snipers hangout with other snipers. But if you’re an officer, you should go into the training looking for the enlisted man who’s gonna be your chief. Of course there’re no guarantees you’ll end up in the same SEAL Team, but you might. And friendships forged in BUD/S are unbreakable.”
***
“Thank you.”
“You’re… welcome…?” Jim seemed surprised and not entirely certain what Ashley was talking about as they waited for the hospital valet to bring up their car.
Kenneth’s parents and his twin sister, Louise, had finally arrived, and all of them—Clark included—were finally allowed in to see Kenneth. Clark wanted to stay overnight at the hospital, and Kenneth’s mom, Mary, was happy to share that job with him. It was clear that she adored Clark.
But now it was well after midnight.
Jim had insisted on paying the parking fee, and Ashley had been too exhausted to argue.
They finally were alone—for the first time since he’d kissed her.
Since she’d kissed him. Fair was fair. He may have started it, but she’d taken it and run.
“Thank you for taking Clark at his word,” she said now, as they stood in the wiltingly humid Florida night. “You didn’t sayifyou’re serious about becoming a SEAL orifyou’re really going to go to BUD/S. You just… spoke to him like you believed him.”
“Idobelieve him,” Jim said.
She smiled at him. “Thank you for that.”
He smiled back at her. “Watching you with Clark was… Well, you’re his sister, but you’re also, kind of, his mom.”
“He was a baby when our mother died.”
“Which means that you must’ve been a baby, too. He’s notthatmuch younger than you.”
“Ten years,” she said. “Huge difference between twelve and two.”
“That must’ve been…” Jim shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I mean, my mom still sends me care packages. I don’t see her that often, but it’s nice to know that she and Dad are always just a phone call away.”
“You should go home to visit them while your knees heal,” Ashley said. She laughed. “Although, I don’t even know where you’re from.”
The valet arrived with the camp SUV. “Everywhere and nowhere,” Jim told her as he opened the passenger side door for her. “Dad was Navy, too. We moved around a lot. Right now they’re in Santa Fe. My sister’s there, she’s got a coupla kids. They’re doing the grandparent thing.”
