In reality, he had created a heck of a lot of trouble and not simply with the cat suggestion. I needed him gone before he said something else. And before I could care even more. As it was, I sighed softly as he retreated, unreasonably sad at no goodbye kiss, even though that would have been ill-advised. Looking away, my eyes landed on his toolbox near the pantry. I could dash after him. But it wasn’t like he needed his drill on base. I could let it be an excuse to see him again.
There was only one smart choice, and even knowing that, I still stayed rooted to the spot. Trouble, indeed. I wanted all the trouble he could create.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Calder
“You’re a miracle worker, Euler.” Coffee cup in hand, Senior Chief Feinstein leaned on my desk in the admin building on base. He was a great guy, inching close to his twenty and retirement, and he’d taken a shine to me ever since I’d arrived on light duty in his department.
“I try. It wasn’t just me either.” I had to give credit to the personnel I had working under me as well. A good chief was only as effective as their ability to lead. “I had Allen and Slade on it too, trying to make stuff happen. I take it the order went through?”
Feinstein whistled low, like I’d unveiled a new car. “You cut through all that red tape like butter.”
“Good.” I was pleased that all my time on the phone and in emails had paid off, and staying busy this week hadn’t been nearly as difficult as when I was first handed the assignment. I’d found a rhythm and a purpose, but some of my contentment was also having memories of the prior weekend with Felix to keep me company. It was hard to work up much resentment over being on shore duty when I had such a fun distraction anchoring me. I handed Feinstein the stack of papers he’d actually stopped by for. “And you correctly anticipated the delay with the sanitation shipment, but I’m on it. Delay should be thirty-six hours or less, not the week they tried to tell us.”
“Damn. Excellent work.” Feinstein raised his coffee cup my direction. “Not sure how you manage to be part-wizard, part-fortune teller.”
“You’re just throwing me a glitter parade because you want me to take that assignment the brass is so keen on.” I could be honest with Feinstein, at least to a point. He was a straight shooter, the sort who invited candor, and he simply laughed off my assessment of his motives.
“You got me. But I’m not going to serve forever.”
“Of course you are.” It was the only acceptable answer with personnel approaching their twenty. Either he’d gun for master chief and stay in, in which case I couldn’t be too eager to see the last of him, or he’d head to civilian life content with the knowledge he was indispensable to the rest of us still serving.
“Ha. I got a fishing boat with my name on it.” Apparently, Feinstein had already picked his path. Must be nice to have that sort of clarity about one’s future. My back tightened with more envy than I’d ever admit. I was tired of wrestling with my future in my head, considering all the angles like it was a supply problem.
“Hope you catch a lot of big ones.” I made my voice way heartier than I felt.
“I will. No worries there. But first I gotta ensure my favorite protégé makes senior chief himself. You’re on track, Euler. You could do it ahead of schedule even.”
“It’s not about making rank.” I did like the idea of making senior chief, a long-held goal, but even that incentive didn’t give me that clear-cut of an answer. “I like being...”
I trailed off as I realized too late that I couldn’t complain about not being out on a sub to a man who’d made most of his career on shore, and who was damn proud of the fine job he’d done rising through the ranks.
“Needed? Useful?” Feinstein filled in the blanks I hadn’t been willing to, direct as always. “You trying to tell me that the only way you feel needed is on a deployment? You’ve got three different crews singing your praises today, with two chiefs of the boat and one commander telling me how you’re the best thing to happen to this department. Hell, maybe you do need that glitter parade.”
Rightfully chastised, I hung my head, studying the top of my scarred desk. Careers were earned here. Missions were saved here. Disasters averted. I was the one clinging to a single definition of success, and I deserved the rebuke. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to disparage what we do here. I just miss my crew.”
“So you do.” Voice pragmatic, Feinstein shrugged. “But you’ve got a hell of an opportunity here. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I know I do.” I had to admit I’d been more than my share of whiny over my impending decision, and the reminder that a lot of people would love to be in my shoes was both necessary and welcome.
“Don’t be hasty.” He waved the papers at me.
“I won’t.” Even if thinking things over was killing me, I owed it to everyone, not simply myself, to consider all the angles. It was easy to pine for my old life, but it was past time that I acknowledged that even if I were deployed, things would be different now. No Derrick. Possibly an entirely new crew. Change was inevitable and I didn’t want to miss out on the chance for something new and perhaps even better by trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.
* * *
“This thing is fast spiraling out of control.”
“Uh-huh.” I could laugh because Derrick meant his impending marriage, not the current state of my life, which did seem to presently hinge on a lot out of my control as my earlier conversation with Feinstein had illustrated. But Derrick wasn’t calling to hear about that. I shifted the phone so that I could adjust the towel around my waist. “You’re the one who wanted a wedding.”
“I did.” Even with an entire continent between us, his happiness still came through crystal clear. He sounded more bemused than genuinely put out about planning. “And first it was going to be an elopement. Then maybe a quiet thing with your folks.”
“Nothing is quiet where the Eulers are concerned.” I finished toweling off my hair. I was back in the barracks after finishing an early shift, doing a hard workout, and showering. At some point I’d have to think about hitting the chow hall for dinner, but I was happy for the distraction of Derrick’s call in the meantime.
“As I am learning.” The line crackled as he laughed, a reminder of how rarely I got to hear that familiar chuckle these days. The changes Derrick’s transfer had meant for me pushed down heavily on my shoulders. I didn’t begrudge him and Arthur any happiness, but I could also admit privately that I missed my best friend, missed working with him especially, and missed his dry sense of humor.
“And Mom was never going to let you get away with some little ceremony in their living room or something.” Delaying getting dressed, I sat on my bed instead.