Disclaimer: I don't own The Last Ship, et al.
Heart's Desires – Chapter 25
The cooler wind was pleasant and the ocean was calm as they made their sojourn – the marine layer separating in their wake as 'Happy Endings' skimmed across the open waters – the hum of her motors, a mere chant of elation after being moored upon Flora Island for months on end.
Presently, Tom stood alongside his XO in the cockpit, his steady gaze following his team's, for every sailor had his eyes pinned to the horizon – Green, Burk, Miller and Cruz in formation around the reverend's body – Master Chief positioned alongside them. Rachel, the kids and his father sat comfortably behind the cockpit with Bautista – his smooth voice, reverberating as he spoke to his captive audience about Palawan Island and its peaceful history – his words heartfelt, his sentiments apropos given those feelings were shared by both Rachel and her father ... feelings that evoked memories of deep-rooted spiritual awakenings … the finest moments they shared together more than a lifetime ago.
Squinting under his cap, Tom turned now to observe Mike at the starboard helm and smiled to himself, for if there was one thing his old friend enjoyed, it was an at-sea adventure … especially one that didn't involve an intense and unforeseen need to fight for his life ... and protect his shipmates ... and save the world. And therein Tom noticed – that at least for the moment – the acute sadness etched along his stony face had dissolved somewhat and he looked more like his true self, the version of himself he was before they sailed away from Norfolk: happy to be at sea, his woes with Christine, behind him for the moment, while he let himself off the hook for his part of the discord in their union, at times, tumultuous.
Casually, he turned to check on Rachel now, her left hand cradling her right elbow, her eyes fixed to Bautista's though he could tell her beautiful mind was somewhere far, far away ... and therein he wondered what she was thinking and if she took a Motrin this morning. He sighed and looked back to Master Chief whom nodded in assent – a cue taken by Slattery as well as he reduced his speed and they leisurely sailed on and forward for a clip or two – the cool wind and Bautista's baritone dying down as they did … the world suddenly quiet, save for the low hum of the engines and the deep blue sea as it lapped against 'Happy Endings'.
Mike idled the vessel and reported their GPS coordinates; a perfunctory declaration of the degrees, decimals and minutes of their latitude and longitude. Tom recorded the coordinates in the Captain's Log Book, duplicating the entry on a page at the back of the book. When finished, he ripped the spare copy from the log and discretely slipped it into the breast pocket of his uniform. Turning, he found Rachel's expectant gaze and nodded in assent. She stood and came to stand beside him – her face stoic, she inhaled sharply and held her breath – Jed and the children rose with Bautista and the men at the stern turned to face them.
The sun was higher in the sky, but the marine layer lingered even still, intensifying the eerie feeling to the morning. Harley and Holbrooke emerged from below deck and came to stand behind the children – the quiet surrounding them, suddenly so loud it jarred their senses – the ocean, calm and serene, despite the impending interment. Harley moved forward and casually shot several photos. Tom smiled weakly at Rachel and she nodded slowly; he pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.
"I would like to begin by offering a sincere thanks in friendship to Lieutenant General Bautista," Tom began diplomatically. Bautista nodded in assent. "Although the moments we will spend upon this vessel this morning are unexpected, we appreciate your support and kindness at this time of personal reflection for Dr. Scott," he exhaled. Bautista turned to Rachel wherein he bowed slightly. Rachel smiled at his chivalrous gesture and Tom continued, "In keeping with US Navy tradition and protocol, Master Chief Jeter will officiate the worship and committal ceremonies … but before he proceeds, I would like to take the opportunity to say a few words." He inhaled and rested his eyes upon the reverend's body for a beat. "Words of ... fate and destiny and the ancient practice of burial at sea ...," he sighed. "An honor requested by a great many sailors in times of peace … and a necessity for a great many more in times of war …," he paused and privately reflected on those they lost, his men looking on with a grave understanding of that necessity. He continued, "Though neither committal is diminished by the other – for desire versus necessity in this case, both end the same – with a passing out to sea as the earth's lifecycle continues …," he breathed and trained his eyes on Rachel now. "And while Reverend Scott was not a sailor– he was a devoted visitor to this island and the surrounding seas – where he had realized his greatest pleasures … both as a man and a father ... and in an effort to memorialize those good memories, he chose this burial for himself …," he sighed and caught his breath, holding his father's gaze for a beat now before he focused on Ashley and Sam, their innocent eyes searching his. "And while we did not know one another for more than a few days, he and I … all of us here know Dr. Scott – and although she and Reverend Scott did not see eye-to-eye on a great many ideals – it was precisely those differences that groomed her to become the woman she is today ...," he went on, his chest tight with emotion now. "The woman, whom many proclaim … is our savior ... while some chant … she is a saint …...," he smiled tightly, his glassy eyes moving over the small crowd of trusted friends. "And so as I stand here ... I honor Reverend Scott …," he exhaled and pinned his eyes to Rachel's, holding her close without touching her at all. "I do …," he incited firmly. "Regardless of that long-standing stalemate between father and daughter – because in the end, fate and destiny have landed us here – and because, long ago ... Reverend Scott created indelible memories on this island and in these waters with his young daughter ... where it turned out … they did agree on one matter … the precious nature of those times spent here … together … times that were cherished for a lifetime, having never been forgotten," he surmised, a small smile etched along his face now.
He blinked and turned to Rachel – watching her carefully now as she naturally reached for Ashley's hand – while he searched for a crack in her veneer, though one never materialized. She smiled weakly at him – and her eyes, though glassy with unshed emotion – were both keen and alert and told him everything he needed to know: that she was indeed all right. And therein, he felt certain she would eventually be fine – for she had a moment with her father after all – and Tom would have liked to believe her life, moving forward, would be much better for it.
And then quite abruptly, he saw so clearly now why it was all meant to be – for simply knowing that this uncharted mission had somehow settled a lifetime of uncertainty, regret and guilt … for her (regardless of bringing the cure to the island) – was enough. It was enough to know that the meaning of this mission had far surpassed anything he'd ever hoped to accomplish. He found himself smiling at her then and imagined himself holding her close later ... and alone in their room. She smiled weakly in return. Harley snapped a photograph and the shutter broke their spell.
The ceremonial protocols moved swiftly then as Mike nodded in assent to the men assembled around the the body whom moved in tandem and gently placed the plank upon the swim platform. Harley craned his body forward, peering through his lens as he leaned upon the starboard railing and took several shots. Green nodded in assent to Tom before he and Burk headed below deck. Mike nodded curtly as well before he glanced at Rachel and made his departure, where he would join Green and Burk for the committal. Cruz and Miller nodded to Russ, signaling that Green and Burk were in place – and only then did he lower the swim platform, the body slowly disappearing at the end of the stern – the soft hum of the motor ... just enough of a din to make it all real.
Rachel stepped forward and Tom turned to her. She blinked hastily and held herself together – he made to reach for her, to drape his arm around her – something, anything … but hesitated ... until he felt the back of her hand brush against his … and only then, did he take her hand into his and squeeze. She looked up to him and nodded, a small smile etched into her eyes as she tugged on his hand and stepped out of the cockpit and onto the sunny deck. Ashley followed her lead, their hands still joined. Tom inclined his head to check in with his father and Sam … once again surprised by how much his youngest had matured ... his eyes, keen and steady as he quietly took the proceedings in. Stepping into the sunlight with Rachel, Tom turned to Russ and gave him the green light to continue.
Russ nodded in assent and held Rachel's gaze for a beat before he began with the rite of committal, his eyes dark and endless … his words coming from that deep, spiritual place, "Unto Almighty God … we commend the soul of our brother departed … and we commit his body to the deep … in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life … through our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen."
And with those words spoken, the team below deck committed Reverend Scott to the South China Sea – one swift push … feet first and he was gone – anchored for haste, the white sailcloth disappearing quickly into the depths far below them … the small wake he left behind already a distant tremor.
And while Tom listened for those all too familiar sounds (the shift, the push, the splash), he kept his eyes trained on his gorgeous woman as she held her breath until the wind was sucked right out of her – a slight tremble coursing through their joined hands as the moment seized her – its true meaning resonating now … her father's end had come and gone … and only she remained.
She shed no tears and he knew there was a likelihood she never would … but when she turned to him, he saw it – that small shimmer, the one nestled deep within her eyes – the one that spoke volumes and reminded him time and time again since they first met that she was capable and brilliant and stubborn … and that in this moment … she was also her father's daughter.
She was a true Scott – with her head held high and her eyes wide open – she accepted his fate ... and her own, for in this case, they were one in the same: two halves of a whole ... made complete by those fond memories … and dreams in the making.
And as a father and a man … that meant something to Tom … somehow.
For in the deep recesses of who he was at the core of his being … Rachel's acceptance that she was made of her father (and her mother), mattered to him. Perhaps because of the extraordinary idea of their dreams in the making (his and hers, this time) – and in the names of their unborn children – and who they would be born from: he and Rachel and his father and mother before him … and her father and mother before her … and so on. He blinked hastily and squeezed her hand, grounding himself now with thoughts of building a life and a family with her.
Russ cleared his throat and gently pulled Tom from his reverie. He inhaled sharply and declared, "Let us pray." He opened his weathered bible and began, his baritone – soulful and deep – his words familiar, yet timeless … and ageless, "May The Lord bless you and keep you; May The Lord make His face shine upon you, And be gracious to you; May The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, And give you peace."
And then it was done. And while Rachel held her own, her grip upon his hand became just a little bit tighter and the flecks of wondrous gold hidden deep within her eyes, dimmed … if only for a brief flicker of time, while she reflected. For these moments spent here, upon the decks of 'Happy Endings', would indeed become a testament to her father and his love of Flora Island … and to their final moments spent here, together … once again … and for all time.
###
"It's a beautiful place … this island," Jed said as he came to stand alongside Tom at the port side helm. "I can see why it meant so much to them …," he ruminated.
The air was humid, at least ten degrees warmer now. The morning sun was hot and the marine layer was gone … until tomorrow … when they would invariably leave this island … with a strong desire to return one day again and again … and again.
"It is gorgeous … a place worthy of dreams …," Tom agreed, his eyes fixed on the bean-shaped island as they moved on and forward, the white sand and lush tropical foliage taking shape now.
"I'm very proud of you, Son," his father declared then. Tom made a sidelong glance at him. He chuckled and reiterated, "I mean it … I'm proud of the lot of you." He smiled. "And as crazy as it might sound … it has been a pleasure to come on this mission with you ... to find myself here in such an unlikely locale, it's so strange – but at the same time – it's as you said, perhaps fate had something to do with it," he sighed heavily.
"It is compelling," Tom agreed. "And it's been great to have you here, Dad … and to know – you and the kids are well and healthy – I'm just starting to feel like we might have a chance at beating this thing …," he exhaled, releasing a measure of his stress.
"Me too …," Jed answered as he turned his attention to Rachel, watching her for a beat as she stood with Ashley and Sam and Jeter and Holbrooke. Tom followed his gaze. "She seems well …," he prompted casually of Rachel then. "Physically … and mentally," he surmised evenly.
Tom nodded in agreement. "She is … and I think she'll be just fine … in time … her shoulder seems better every day too," he answered candidly, somewhat awestruck by her fortitude.
His heart alighted now by the way Rachel and Ashley were drawn to one another – reassuring one another so effortlessly, holding hands or hugging – wherein he realized now that their mission, apart from his, had changed the dynamic between them in a way that maybe he hadn't seen until this very minute. For they cared for one another, deeply … and it was special for the both of them. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Feeling happy that they found one another, through the mess and the horror and the death and destruction: they were a vision to the future. He shook his head and marveled at the pair of them.
Jed turned to Tom. "Things seem … solidified between the two of you … you're very comfortable and at ease …," he probed carefully. "The kids seem happy too," he observed.
Tom exhaled, his earlier conversation with Russ foremost on his mind now as he answered, "They're adapting … and they are comfortable with each other – and we're evolving slowly, Rachel and I – just as you foretold we would the night she woke up."
"That's nice to hear, Tommy," Jed encouraged, a small smile playing along his face.
Tom sighed and formulated his words. "I must say though, that being here on this island – balanced upon such an interesting pendulum of life and death – has pushed us somewhat … to deal with how we feel … and not at all in bad way …," he sighed, his heart trumpeting now.
"Given the circumstances of her father's passing and his sudden, brief presence in her life – I feel happy to know you were together – once again ... it all seems a bit like it was meant to be …," he surmised evenly, his eyes trained on the island.
Tom nodded in agreement and followed his father's gaze, their eyes on their destination – the familiar island in plain view – wherein he was struck by how vastly different it appeared on the horizon now, following their liberation. The beleaguered state of the small locale, seemingly whole and healed now – all signs of unrest and sickness and mudslides – the trials they endured, gone for now, but not forgotten.
###
The quarantine was bustling with activity when they returned – the anticipation of its end, breathing new life into the encampment – the idea that Rachel would indeed proclaim its success a very real possibility now as Bautista spoke with her regarding his plans for a phased departure from the island. Beginning with those volunteers from the Subic Bay quarantine – many whom left family behind and were no longer contagious with the cure – their part of the mission, over ... and the time for them to return home and begin to rebuild was upon them now.
Presently, Tom and Mike walked behind Rachel and Bautista, listening in on their conversation as they exited a large tent, once again inhabited by the elderly patients she was so concerned with – their recovery guaranteed now – thanks to Bautista's relocation efforts. Beyond them, Tom kept his watchful eyes pinned to the kids as they walked ahead, flanked on all sides by Cruz and Miller, Green and Burk while Harley continued his documentation and Holbrooke headed up the procession, the absence of cocked firearms a staggering difference from all other times he'd walked through the encampment.
Inhaling, Tom cleansed his lungs with the tropical air – the humidity increasing exponentially as the morning hours progressed – a few white animated clouds popping out from behind the mountain, bright and beautiful with no sign of rain. He sighed and turned to Mike and scrutinized his old friend again, a contemplative look registered on his stony face. He pressed his lips together and queried, "Something on your mind?"
Mike nodded and muttered, "When we get back … I gotta find Christine." He gritted his teeth. "The ambiguity is really getting to me … and I need answers," he went on.
"Then we'll get them," Tom answered, his chest suddenly tight.
"I think it's time to take my eyes off the horizon … I'm hesitant to say it but, I think we're gonna beat this thing … and I need time to focus on what's got to matter most …," he determined. He squinted under his cap and Tom watched him scan the quarantine, back and forth.
"The James will be in dry dock ... and even then it wouldn't matter … we'll handle it, Mike … you have my word," he assured, his mind racing over what could be done to locate Christine and the kids.
###
Back at the bungalow, Tom sat with Ashley and Sam for a moment, his kids chattering away about the morning and the success of the quarantine. Rachel and Cait were in the kitchen, his woman completely engaged by their host whom was likely regaling her with a light-hearted story. Slowly, the mood went from somber to relaxed as he surveyed the room – Miller and Burk playing chess in the far corner – Green sitting with Holbrooke and his father in deep discussion. He sighed and watched Harley for a beat, sitting opposite them – his eyes dancing as he looked on at his tablet – the device, perched upon his lap. His new friend smiled broadly and Tom wondered what he was looking over.
"Dad … do you know what Rachel told me?" came Ashley's hesitant voice then.
"What's that?" he prompted, noticing her cheeks were pink from the sun … and how she reminded him of Darien right now. He smiled.
"She said that Sammy and I aren't contagious anymore …," she breathed, her voice catching slightly.
He privately doted on her, but didn't miss the complexity of emotion etched along her angular face. He sighed and wondered, "How does that make you feel?"
She exhaled and looked away from him, her eyes traveling along the room until she found Rachel in the kitchen. She shook her head, "I keep wondering if there's a sick person somewhere … that could have needed me … I keep thinking, maybe I could have done more."
Tom blinked his emotion into recession and drew his sweet daughter closer, pressing his lips to her crown where he held her in place. He sighed and pressed his chin to her halo. "I understand, Ash …," he began. "I had those same thoughts when I realized I was no longer contagious … but … I think, what we have to focus on is what we've accomplished, you know?" he prompted.
"I suppose," she answered and then she looked up and smiled. "You're a really courageous person, Dad," she declared, her deep eyes, reflective mirrors of his. He chuckled and found himself speechless. "Thanks for letting me come with you this morning … is it weird to say I was happy to be there?" she asked of him then, her vast mind at work.
Tom stared at her, his heart trumpeting now just as it had the day she was born, "Not at all … I think happiness is defined in a great many ways." He pressed his lips together and lost himself inside of her eyes. "You're pretty courageous too, you know," he smiled.
"Thanks Dad," she murmured and settled back and into the crook of his arm. He looked up and nodded in assent to Harley who'd been listening wherein the men shared a moment of pure wonder together.
A sense of calm encapsulated Tom then – one that he couldn't explain – but also one that he vowed to remember – for within those finite seconds spent listening with keen attention to his daughter's innermost thoughts … he truly found himself again, the essence of who he was, brought to the forefront now after having been relinquished to some other place for safe keeping when this whole mess began.
His fight or flight instinct diminished now as he stopped to relish in this moment … and their collaborative accomplishments to date. Sighing, his eyes swept the main room again and he swallowed hard and watched with interest as Rachel moved about the main room – a small smile on her face, her eyes dancing to and fro – before she casually disappeared down the hallway en-route to their room.
###
The door was ajar where Tom lingered for a beat before he pressed on the panel with his fingertips, his eyes scanning the room as he stepped inside and spotted Rachel on the porch – her head craned back, her eyes unwavering – the sky high above, bright and blue and obscured by a thick layer of palm fronds. He closed the door behind him and all was quiet inside their sanctuary. He sighed and made his way around the bed and came to stand at the sliding glass door. The curtain billowed in the wind and she looked up to find him there.
He stepped outside and into the humidity wherein she readily stepped into his embrace and they silently connected as they so often seemed to do now – so naturally, with her arms encircling his abdomen – and his arms wrapped protectively around her, his nose pressed into the crease of her neck where he silently breathed her in and simultaneously grounded himself, her organic essence filling his lungs … healing him from the inside out again and again … until their enchantment covered them akin to a blanket and the world indeed fell away.
"How are you?" he asked of her after a long moment, the warmth of her body a welcome brand of heat. He smoothed his hand over her shoulder cap, his fingertips lingering on the edge of her scar tissue.
Leaning up, she effortlessly pressed her supple lips to the underside of his neck and breathed her reply, "I'm well."
He tilted his head and her lips lingered where she added just the right amount of pressure, his pulse fluttering under her lithe touch. He righted himself and swayed with her in his arms – dancing to a melody only they were privy to – the beat as succinct and natural as the trumpet of their hearts. He inhaled and ducked down, finding her lips where he kissed her soundly, making sweet love to her there deep inside this stolen moment.
They rotated, his back pressed against the cool glass door now, his hands cupping her face as he held her still, right where he wanted her … for now and for all time. Her tongue massaging his, her deep moan of pleasure vibrating into mouth where he escheated the last of her woes and she became pliant in his arms … and willingly set herself free.
He kissed her once more for good measure before he pulled back and set his forehead against hers – searching her gateways for those golden flecks he loved so much – her eyes still glassy, though clear and bright again. He inhaled and reached into his breast pocket, fishing the page of the Captain's Log Book from within. He slipped it into her hand. His heart raced.
With her eyes still pinned to his, she breathed, "What's this?"
He sighed looked down while she unfolded the paper – his eyes moving over his messy scroll – that moment spent at the helm of 'Happy Endings', reverberating again now as he looked upon his perfunctory note, simply put:
10°11'20.2"N
117°41'05.7"E
"It's the latitude and longitude of your father's interment," he whispered his explanation, suddenly unsure of himself and his humble gesture.
"I see …," she whispered, looking up and into his eyes.
He held his breath as she looked down and he watched as she smoothed her finger over the coordinates, back and forth, the paper shaking slightly in her grasp. She inhaled sharply.
He uncharacteristically backpedaled then, "Rachel ... it can be something … or … it can be just a slip of paper … it's a protocol and a tradition and I wasn't sure if you might want it so I –"
Rachel pressed her fingertips on his lips and silenced him. "Have I said how I love you?" she breathed, her voice soft and melodic.
He chuckled nervously and his eyes pricked with emotion until she became blurred and he lost her momentarily. "You have …," he whispered thickly, his heart trembling with unbridled love as he blinked his tears back and found her again.
"This is one of the reasons …," she said, shaking her head. "It's just you – it's everything about you – and how you are …," she whispered, her eyes searching his. His heart gave out. "Especially when you're not sure of yourself … but you're taking care of me regardless … especially then, I find … how madly I love you so …," she husked before she pulsed her lips against his, soft and quick. "Thank you for this … gift …," she breathed into his ear.
He drew her near and whispered his reply, "You're welcome, love."
Folding her deeper into the envelope of his embrace now, his breathing suddenly shallow as he ducked down and found her eyes wherein he saw once again how beautiful she was on the inside where it mattered most – that small piece of herself she allowed only him to see – that clandestine cross-section he fell so madly in love with … somewhere along the way. He brushed his lips against hers, softly. He loved her … so purely, he thought he should be scared – that a love like this, so driven by its own volition even existed – except that he found, he wasn't … instead he realized that he couldn't imagine living a single day without these feelings of deep love and acceptance and fortitude coursing through his veins. He sighed and shook his head at her and everything she'd come to mean to him.
Rachel tilted her head and stared at him, her eyes radiant and unwavering. "Tom … what …," she whispered, her breathless call bouncing between them now.
He smoothed her hair away from her face. "It's nothing … and everything all at one – it's us … here on this island … and the kids … and the fading virus … and your father … and mine – and everything about you and I … together …...," he exhaled, catching his breath. "I know I've said this before … but truly, I can't explain it … how I love you so … effortlessly … it's –"
"Profound … euphoric … like a dream meant to come true …," she intuited boldly, her gorgeous eyes wide open now.
"Yes … and more …," he whispered his reply – his hands flanking her face – his fingertips nestled deep within her wild tresses. "So much more …," he blinked. "For the life of me … I can't imagine ending up anywhere else."
She exhaled and leaned up, brushing her lips against his before she whispered, "Nor can I, love."
And upon those truths, the new couple wrapped themselves one another – cradling their newfound love akin to a newborn baby – seeking their innate warmth and that solace found deep within their enclave, this special place where destiny and fate predicted they would find themselves, both together and apart from one another.
###
Cait had prepared a lovely late morning meal for both teams and as the group of new friends slowly let their guards down and the mood became more jovial – Tom began to feel even more optimistic – his broader thoughts switching gears from survival to growth and recovery back in St. Louis. He sat back and smiled with his crew and relished in the blessings that were born from this mission: enduring friendships, newfound love ... and the imminent arrival of the Foster-Green baby. He sighed and once again privately thanked whichever God was watching over them.
He pressed his lips together and watched Mike for a long beat then – his more serious eyes bouncing with happiness as he shared a joke with Phillip and Dan – the trio chortling at Miller's expense over something or another. And there inside that moment, he thought of his friend and all the pain he masked on a daily basis … minute to minute … and yet, he was as strong as ever, having never wavered off course. He was a remarkable man and sailor and friend.
They all were he determined again – as he pinned his eyes to Russ Jeter's for a beat – his confidant and friend who'd given so much of himself to the crew of the Nathan James, from both a spiritual and personal place. For Tom was well aware that he would have been bewildered without Russ's voice of reason. He smiled broadly now and Russ returned the gesture, his dark eyes, bright and clear and laden with hope. And for the moment, that was enough ... for there was nothing quite like a genuine smile from his Master Chief.
Looking beyond the table now, Tom maintained his watchful eye on the kids as they helped Cait in the kitchen – their smiles broad, their spirits happy – they were a picture of health. Unforeseen emotion pricked at his eyes then as a stock image of them in Baltimore came to his surface – their weakened condition, their eyes hallow, the virus claiming them, so close to death – wherein his pulse strummed at the thought of what he'd been spared. His heart pinching at him, somewhere low and deep … and forbidden.
He looked away with haste and was met with Rachel's luminous eyes. "You okay?" she asked of him.
He blinked and righted himself. "I'm better than okay," he smiled. She tilted her head and regarded him. He sighed. "I was just watching the kids and I got caught up in the heartache I've been spared …," he breathed. Leaning closer, he whispered, "Because of you. I still have them … because of you."
Rachel's eyes filled with tears; she swallowed hard, "And because of you." She smiled and blinked her tears back and away, "And don't say you just steered the ship ... because you saved me, Tom ... in so many ways, I've lost count."
###
Later, when Rachel rose from her seat and asked if she could say a few words, pausing to formulate her thoughts for a brief moment, Tom once again scanned the room and took notice of how captive her audience was – from Bautista and his guards to Phillip Harley and Dan Holbrooke and his father and of course the kids – and perhaps, above all, her shipmates. To say he felt immensely satisfied was understatement … because she deserved this, her audience's undivided attention, whether it be a room full of strangers – or the people she held closest to her heart – she deserved to be set upon that pedestal. And she was … in those moments, revered akin to the saint she had been hailed.
She cleared her throat and trained her eyes on Tom's before she smiled at Ashley and Sam and began, "I thought I should say something on this occasion to offer my sincere gratitude for the lovely service and this beautiful luncheon … and this moment as it has been given to me here, to reflect upon my father's passing." She inhaled sharply and trained her eyes on Russ's for a beat before she continued. "While I believe it is no secret that my father and I were estranged for a great many years – I truly feel that the distance between us was bridged on the final day of his life – and inside those final hours … where we became to one another as we began: father and daughter, in the purest form," she smiled and her eyes danced along the small crowd. She exhaled and shook her head. "And as I see all of you, gathered here with me … I am reminded of that time and time again – the impenetrable bond between fathers and their children, that innate true love – and so … as I stand here and honor what I cherished most about my father: his altruistic nature and the way he gave of himself so freely to those less fortunate than he ….," she exhaled and fixed her eyes on Tom's for a beat and smiled. "I also must honor you … Tom …," she asserted softly, her face flushed, her eyes glassy. She turned away. "And Jed … and Mike ... and Russ …... and Danny …... and Leon …," she whispered, her voice cracking wide open now as fat tears popped free from her eyes and landed on her cheeks. Tom rose from his seat and passed a cloth napkin to her. She looked up to him and smiled. "I honor you – because in one way or another, you've all shown me what fatherhood is meant to be – and not just in that innate way that you belong to your children, but … in the greater longevity of it … whether they are alive and well … or have passed on from this virus or something else entirely … you've exhibited to me that a father's love is infinite … and that's what I came to know of my father in his eleventh hour … that he still loved me from the deepest place in his being … just as I loved him …," she sighed and nodded her head. "And I believe I was only blessed with this realization because of the lessons you all have seamlessly bestowed upon me," she exhaled. "And I thank you ... so much ...," she sighed, her eyes vacillating now.
Tom blinked and held his father's gaze, nodding assent as he reached for Rachel and draped his arm around her – the kids rushing to her as well – where they embraced her and she smiled down upon them. The men in the room also rising from their seats where they came forward and offered their words of encouragement – their eyes glassy – their smiles genuine … their hearts alighted.
###
A short while later, Tom stood with Rachel, Mike and Russ on the porch – their eyes pinned to the horizon – the children playing down by the coast, frolicking at the water's edge with Jed while Harley stood nearby and peered through his lens. The sun was perched in the bright blue sky – high noon was upon them – and the palm fronds danced in the humid breeze … it was a breathtaking day.
The door behind them opened and Cait emerged followed by Bautista. Tom smiled and they came to stand at his side. Bautista sighed and turned to Tom. "It's a beautiful day here … a day such as this makes me believe the world is healthy again," he smiled genuinely.
Tom smiled in return. "We're headed in the right direction," he replied diplomatically.
Rachel tilted her head and regarded their ally. "The quarantine has yielded optimal results … as we discussed earlier," she assured. "A phased release of the Subic Bay volunteers along with those in quarantine deemed well enough to travel, should begin later today so they can continue to effectively spread the cure," she reiterated with encouragement.
"Yes, of course, Dr. Scott," he smiled. "I have no doubts of the continued success of the cure … I only comment on the beauty of this day with the great hope ... that you will take advantage of a very lovely surprise I have been organizing for your team," he smiled broadly, his brown eyes, clear and bright.
Tom smiled amicably, "I see."
Bautista tilted his head. "Ms. Cait … perhaps you can use this table," he prompted.
Cait smiled and turned to a small table situated next to an outdoor chair. "A pleasure," she murmured. And with that she rolled out a detailed map of the island.
"Yes ... now, Captain ... I believe you are aware that – prior to the outbreak – the accommodations on this island were primarily leased by people looking to have a very relaxed vacation in seclusion …," he began.
"I am," Tom nodded in assent, his curiosity piqued.
"And I feel very confident regarding the present security of the island now … a feeling I hope is shared by you and your team," he went on.
"Of course," Tom nodded, glancing down at the topography he knew so well now. A stark variance from how this place seemed so foreign and out of reach to him not so long ago – the momentum of a dream turned into a mission – turned back into a dream. He smiled.
Bautista smiled too. "Especially with the quarantine in effect and my armed services still making their rounds … securing the perimeter of the island from both land and sea, as agreed ...," he paused.
Tom glanced at Mike and then praised their ally diplomatically, "Especially so, and yes ... we have been able to focus on the quarantine and our unexpected situation here without concern, primarily because of the full backing of your armed services."
"Good, so we are in agreement again, my friend," Bautista smiled broadly, his eyes smooth and brown. "And so now, I will show you the surprise ...," he said with an ardent flare. Pointing to the map, he elaborated, "Do you see this inlet here?" Tom nodded in assent. "This is a private beach – when people come here, it is the most special place to stay on this whole island – there is only one bungalow ... right up here, midway up the cliff and it is hidden from plain view," he said, running his finger along the map. "I show this to you now ... because my men have secured that area ... and as it happened it was so well-hidden, it remained unknown to interlopers ...," he nodded. "And ... as Ms. Cait will also assure you ... it is as pretty and serene and private as it always has been ... a true gem to the Palawan Island ...," he said with a flourish of his hand.
Tom looked down at the map and scrutinized the area – the beach was small – about a quarter of the size of the one that lay before them now. The terrain looked rough and undeveloped, but he imagined there were access points that were obscured.
"I'm sure it's delightful," Tom answered. He looked up and smiled, catching Cait's eyes for a beat as they danced with happiness.
"As your Subic Bay Team will recall, I do enjoy showcasing our treasures – you may have heard – the team was taken on a day trip to our most beloved Bataan National Park …," he said, his voice laden with pride.
"I believe it was a welcome reprieve from the world at large, we do so appreciate your hospitality …," Tom smiled, for there was one thing he learned about Leon Bautista, and that was, he was a very gracious ally and host.
Bautista went on. "And we appreciate your cure … worth more than we can ever repay … but as a way of thanking you and your team and especially thinking of our dear, Dr. Scott – with the emotional days you have had – it would be such a pleasure to have you spend your last afternoon there ... surrounded by tranquil beauty and without a worry in the world ...," he smiled and bowed his head slightly. And then he looked up and made his final plea, "Please agree. It is the least we can do … and we will delay the first departure of our patients until this evening so we can account for all persons here ... you have my word … you will all remain safe …," he concluded.
Tom smiled and turned to Mike for confirmation – his XO nodded in agreement – an action mimicked by his Master Chief. He glanced at Rachel and watched a small smile form on her face, wherein Cait draped her arm along her trim shoulders and squeezed; both women laughed.
Tom chortled and found Bautista's expectant eyes, "I think we agree again, my friend … you have a fine idea."
To be continued …