Tight Quarters (Out of Uniform 6)
Page 83
He tried to turn his attention to the ceremony. The chief they had selected for the anthem would have been at home singing at the World Series, with a deep rich baritone. Then came the speeches, and ordinarily, they would have bored him, but today felt different. Important. He’d worked a decade to get here. From the moment he’d joined the navy, he’d looked up to the chiefs and senior chiefs, and getting to join their ranks was special. His heart hammered hard as two SEAL chiefs carefully placed his cover on his head for him. They straightened it with the care Bacon might give checking his parachute rigging, and whispered congratulations to him.
Because of his last name, he was one of the first chiefs pinned. His mom came forward, hands visibly trembling as she pinned on his anchors. Tears shone in her eyes, and a lump the size of the bell he was about to ring formed in his throat.
“I’m so proud,” she whispered.
Cameras flashed, and he very deliberately did not look at Spencer in that moment, needing to stay inside himself to keep the swarming emotions at bay. After ringing the bell, he marched to the center walkway as the announcer said, “Chief Delbert Lawrence Bacon, Junior, SEAL teams, arriving.”
A whistle blew and the color guard saluted him as he walked through, a ceremonial “piped aboard” tradition he’d anticipated for years. It was then, and only then, once he’d walked through, that he let his gaze return to Spencer. Their eyes met and held, and his chest tightened, emotions again rising as he saw all the pride and love he’d seen on him mom’s face there on Spencer’s. He’d waited what felt like an eternity for some person to look at him like that, that sort of unconditional love brimming in their eyes.
But it’s not real, a little voice tickled at the edges of his thoughts. There were conditions on Spencer’s love, and his motives in coming had yet to be revealed. But still, he couldn’t help the way his heart trilled, the way his pulse galloped, or how reluctant his eyes were to leave Spencer. He might never see that look again, and he wanted to wallow in it.
But all too soon it was the next chief’s turn and so on as the whole group received their anchors and were piped aboard. The whole time his mind was reeling. Would Spencer leave before they could even talk? Did he want to talk? He let those thoughts rattle around through the rest of the ceremony. Afterward, everyone was milling around, congratulations and best wishes flying as countless pictures were taken. When he’d made E-4 and gotten his crow, tradition said that his teammates “tacked on the crow” by hitting his biceps. Now with the anchors, everyone kept hitting his collarbone where the anchors were and he was pretty sure he was going to have a bruise later from all the good-natured “pinning on.” Friendly hazing from his fellow chiefs would surely follow in the coming days too.
Luckily, he was able to avoid some of that because his mom wanted a picture of him with the senior chief and his wife, and White wanted one of the two of them together.
“SEALs represent, hooyah.” White leaned in, still with the dopey grin. After his wife took the picture, he added, “We’ll have you by when we find a place, okay?”
“That sounds great.” The whole while, Bacon was scanning for Spencer. If he’d stayed, he’d be hanging back. Some big public declaration wasn’t his style, and besides, he wouldn’t want to embarrass Bacon. And who knew, he still might not want anyone knowing they were friends.
While others got slices of cake, he got out his phone on the pretext of wanting a picture of him and his mom. No new messages when he unlocked the screen, so he dashed off a very fast message. Don’t leave.
Not wanting to seem rude, he didn’t wait for a reply, instead handing the phone to Isaiah to get a few pictures of him and his mom together. Then she wanted one of him by the flag, holding his wooden plaque that commemorated his advancement. He tried to be patient. It was her day too. She’d wanted this for him as long as he had.
His eyes finally found Spencer, hanging out near some large metal equipment at the rear of the hangar. Don’t leave, he willed him as he accepted more congratulations. The crowd was finally starting to thin somewhat. Bacon put an arm around his mother, giving her a squeeze.
“Tell you what, you and my plaque head to my truck.” He handed her his keys. “Be thinking about where you want me to take you to eat, and I’ll catch up with you quickly. I see someone I need to say hello to.”