It was clear that Shea wasn’t coming back to him. They didn’t need to have the awkward conversation. She didn’t ever talk about it or bring it up during the few short moments he’d talked to her. She did say she was sorry that she’d had to leave so abruptly, but they had both known it was coming.
What they had was over, for her at least. He wondered if it had been that easy for her, like when she’d walked out of his hotel room.
He got hard remembering that first time.
He didn’t want to mar this day, so he smiled and compartmentalized his pain at losing the first woman he’d ever loved. The knock at his door made him close the box, gather the wrappings and tuck it under his bed.
His sister was working part-time for NCIS. She probably knew Shea, and he didn’t want to field questions or receive sympathy. He’d gotten enough after the NWO had trapped them in the BUD/S classroom. Paige had been beside herself, and when she’d shown up at Coronado, demanding to see him, she was horrified at the shape he was in. He’d let her mother him a little, but he had to get back to training.
The look in his sister’s eyes said it all. She was realizing that he wasn’t a little boy anymore, that training had strengthened him and changed him. He knew who he was, and what he was doing. It was that understanding between them that got her to get in her car and drive back home to her husband and daughter. Later, when he’d talked briefly to Kid, he said that she’d come home from seeing Hemingway and wrapped her arms around her husband. Then she’d told Ashe Wilder how proud she was of Kid Chaos, what he’d gone through, and how he kept going out every day to keep the country safe.
Hemingway knew his sister saw him as a grown man now. Maybe for her that was bittersweet. He was the last one out of the house, but she could console herself with her daughter and the other children she was sure to have with Kid. Her love for him had been the foundation from which he’d gotten all his values. He was very thankful that she had been the one to instill them in him and his dad, once he’d gotten over his pain and grief from losing their mom. Now he was wondering if anyone ever got over it completely.
Hemingway opened the door and Paige bustled in with Chloe on her hip. She’d grown so much, but still held out her arms to him. He took her, and she kissed him on the cheek.
“H’unkle Atty,” she said.
“That’s all she kept saying the whole way over,” Paige said, hugging him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, when she wasn’t yelling doggie or fishy,” Kid said with a grin.
“Hey, she’s brilliant,” Hemingway said.
“Son,” his father said, shaking his hand. He was moving a little stiffly, and Hemingway looked at his sister with concern.
“He insists on working the garden for all hours. This after landscaping for hours. The man loves his plants. There’s no stopping him.”
“Keeps me young,” he said with a smile. “We ready to begin this momentous day?”
“Yeah, I’m ready to go. There’s a great place downtown.”
“Wherever, but I wouldn’t mind Hotel del. They have a great buffet,” Paige said.
“Sounds good to me. Chow is good in the hall, but Hotel del is perfect.”
Breakfast was fun as Chloe babbled, talked and charmed the waiters. Hemingway didn’t eat as much as he usually did due to the excitement that was churning in his gut.
SQT graduation was held in the SQT Building at Coronado, where family and friends had gathered to congratulate the graduates. With an American flag behind the podium and the class number spelled out with tridents on a board, Hemingway had left his family to go and muster with the twenty men who had finished training.
Also present in the group were several team COs and command master chiefs.
Standing in the midst of his boat crew, Hemingway was so proud of them all that they hadn’t crumbled under the pressure of cold, wet, sandy, rock portage, surf passage, drownproofing, O-course, swims, runs, mud, sleep deprivation, aches, pains, chaffing, bruises, cuts and abrasions.
Every minute had been worth it. He was standing here about to receive his trident. Professor grinned at him. “Do you think they’re just going to pin it right to our bare chest?”
Hemingway laughed. “Ah, what’s a little stick and a little blood. We’re SEALs!”
“Hoo-yah,” the whole group shouted.
The ceremony started with the first of three speakers, all SEAL operators with the usual welcome speech and a reminder to his class that they were now SEALs, and the next time they came out of the surf, it would be as an operational member of Special Forces. He finished off with “Stay focused, train hard, be professional. Always maintain your personal integrity and the integrity of the team. Congratulations and good luck.”
The next speaker was introduced as the one who would tell them about the trident they were about to be pinned with.
“We have worn this badge since 1970. It’s a one of a kind specialty pin worn by both enlisted and officers. It’s a symbol of our brotherhood. We train and fight as one team. The trident is composed of four parts, each a symbol of our warfare community.
“The anchor represents the Navy, our branch of service, the most powerful and encompassing force on this planet that patrols the seas, and tantamount to maintaining world peace. The anchor is old tying us, with its history, to the courageous actions of the Naval Combat Demolition Units and Underwater Demolition Teams. We never forget where we came from.
“The trident, which Neptune, or Poseidon, Ruler of the Oceans carries, is this three-pronged spear, and we are the tip of that spear. The might of the ocean is vast and a harsh environment for any warrior, except the frogmen who understand it, embrace it, seek refuge in it and find it their perfect operating environment.
“The flintlock, cocked and set to fire, shows our readiness to direct action on land. We as gunslinging door kickers are prepared to fight at a moment’s notice.
“The eagle flies with the anchor, clutching the flintlock and trident in it claws. This embodies our emblem of freedom, indicating that we are masters of the air, swift and sure in our mission that’s as natural as breathing. Our inclination for military insignias is to depict the eagle, head aloft, but on our symbol, the eagle’s head bows to show that humility is the touchstone of a SEAL’s might.
“SEALs undertake missions from fixed wing aircraft, helicopters, ships and submarines, environments from arctic, desert, jungle, or enemy controlled areas and all water conditions, administrative and foreign training missions, including your very own BUD/S instructors, in a wide variety of climates anywhere in the world. You sacrifice your free time, family time, friends’ time. These are the men we’re graduating today.”
Listening to these words, he was sure he wasn’t the only one who’s eyes were misting and throat tight with not only the emotion of belonging to an elite and respected fighting force, but the understanding of the significance and trust that would soon be pinned to his chest.
“You are all now inducted into a noble institution with a singular badge that unites us all in brotherhood. The tridents that we will pin to your uniform in a few moments are the legacy of Naval Special Warfare. There will be two names on the diploma we hand you, yours and a teammate who was lost in battle. That name will also be engraved on the K-bar knife you will be presented with. Do your fallen teammate proud. Take a moment to reflect on all our fallen brothers who gave their last breaths and very lifeblood to their oath. Be proud of your accomplishments, but also, never forget those who have sacrificed everything. Keep honor and integrity your watchwords and never tarnish the reputation and tradition you inherit. Be that SEAL every day and earn this trident every day. Welcome to the brotherhood. Welcome to the teams!”