Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
They dealt with security at the base entrance, showing their IDs, then Bacon parked near their barracks. As they walked across the well-lit parking lot, Wes’s phone vibrated with a familiar pattern.
“Heck. It’s my mom. I better take this,” he said to Bacon.
“Sure thing. Tell her we’re taking good care of you.” He clipped Wes on the shoulder before jogging toward the barracks.
“Mom?” he said into the phone. A quick calculation told him it was after eleven East Coast time—well after her usual bedtime.
“Wes! I actually caught you and not the machine!” His mom sounded jittery, words coming too fast for her Southern drawl to keep up with. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
“You got me. Just back from a beer with some new...friends.” He knew she’d want to hear he was making friends, trying to fit in. “What’s up though? Shouldn’t y’all be asleep?”
“Don’t panic, okay?” His mom’s voice was pitched to soothe, which made his pulse speed up along with his steps.
“What’s wrong?”
“Samantha’s having some shortness of breath. We’re at the ER. Probably a little virus, nothing to worry about.”
“But you’re worried enough to call me.” He used his card to enter the barracks and headed straight for his room, which he unlocked one-handed.
“She didn’t want me to, of course. Dad’s with her now. I stepped away for a coffee. Probably going to be a long night. But I wanted you to know.”
“I hate this f—freaking coast.” He punched the pillow on the bed. He was off tomorrow. Back at Little Creek, his folks were three hours and some change away. If he were still stationed there, he’d start driving now, be there to spell his parents for a least a few hours before he had to head back to base. But here he was a long-ass flight, almost full day of traveling, away from Raleigh.
“I know. We miss you so much.” There was a slurping noise, and he could almost smell her coffee—two cream, two sugars, the same way she’d taken it his whole life. “But really, we couldn’t be prouder of you. They picked you for this. Someone must think you’re pretty elite.”
“Yeah.” Wes supposed he could try to see it that way. However, he didn’t have his mother’s bottomless fountain of optimism to rely on. She was probably rocking her “Proud Navy Mom” sweatshirt right now too. “How’s Sammy otherwise? Do you think it was the party last Saturday that caused this?”
“She was home by 1 a.m. from that, and slept till noon the next day. I hope it wasn’t that.” His mom didn’t sound too sure, which Wes hated for all of them. Sam should be able to do normal teenage stuff like partying without worrying about an ER visit like this.
“Is it just the shortness of breath? Does she have a fever?”
“No, Dr. Wesley, there’s no fever. Just short of breath, and it was worse lying down for bed, so off we went. Better safe than sorry.”
“Always.” Keeping Samantha healthy was a family project and had been since she was born a tiny, sickly preemie with a heart condition that they’d all spent the past eighteen years battling. “Did you call James?”
His brother, who was between him and Samantha in age, was away at college at Wake Forest. “I will if they admit her. You remember being newly twenty-one and out on a Friday night, right? I figured not to bother him quite yet.”
“I’m glad you called me.” His voice was thick. He hated being out of the loop, hated when his mom didn’t tell him something because she was worried about it affecting him on duty.
“Me too, sweetie. You’re always my rock.”
“Call me later? Tell me what the doctors say? I’ll be up.”
“Of course. Before I go, tell me something good. These new friends of yours, maybe. Nice guys?”
What his mom was really asking for was a distraction. She always found it hard to be in the hospital rooms for long stretches, hated seeing Samantha in the bed. Wes wasn’t much of a talker, really, but he had a long history of knowing what would make her laugh, so he told her a little story about Curly and Bacon. She got a kick out of the nicknames, of course, and it was good to hear her laugh.
“I’m so glad you got out of the barracks. I’m sending a resource guide I found online of LGBTQ resources in San Diego. There’s some bars—”
“Mom,” he groaned. “I do not need you looking for hookups for me.”
“I’m just saying. You’re young, single. Cute. Have some fun!” Like Sam, she was always after him to be more out-and-proud, join one of the groups for LGBTQ service members, and above all else, date. She’d be horrified to know that the only date he’d had in the past year had been DC with Dustin.