Page 51 of Legacy
Aarabelle
Aaron Gilcher sits across from me at a café on the outskirts of San Diego. He’s in the area for a livestock convention and left me a voicemail while I was at work. I agreed to meet him, for the sole reason that I’m curious about his life. His kids are private on social media and his wife shuns technology altogether. The bits and pieces I garner is through stories my mom hears from her old friends.
It’s weird staring at a person who looks like you, acts like you, but doesn’t know you at all. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”
Bringing a coffee cup to my lips, I take a sip. “It’s fine. I’ve been busy. You’ve been busy, I’m sure. There’s not much to catch up on.”
He looks older now, the wrinkles cutting deep ridges into his forehead and the weathered skin on his cheekbones is sun worn. Life has not been easy for him. It’s both why I forgive him and why I’ll never let him in fully. “How is your family?” At the mention of something he cares about, his brown eyes flecked with gold, widen.
Aaron turns away, doing his best to hide the guilt he feels at me mentioning his new life. “They’re doing well.” He clears his throat. “The kids are getting big and staying healthy. Rochelle is still doing her art. It’s a simple life we live. It’s good, kid. Arkansas is treating us good. After everything, it’s what I need.”
I need. So selfish, even now.
I swallow down the bitterness. Simple is a way of thinking. If simple was what he craved, there are always ways to make it yourself with what you have. Without abandoning a family.
“Yeah, it sounds it. You’re still on the same farm near family?”
My mom and Aaron grew up together in Arkansas, but Aaron’s roots to the place always seemed stronger.
He nods. “I was surprised when your mom told me you’d become a SEAL. The first woman! You could have invited me to the pinning ceremony. It’s not like I wouldn’t know how much it meant to you. That was a big deal. Congratulations, kid.” Opening and shutting his hands, he adds, “I remember when it was me. You’ve got more of me in you than I ever dreamed you would.”
Shrugging, I take another warm sip. “They only allowed me to send out a certain number of invites. The ceremonies are smaller now. Not like they used to be. And, I have more of my father in me than you could dream. You know, the man who raised me? The one who instilled the morals he deemed important, nurtured my talents, drove me to sports, cooked me dinners, kissed me goodnight. That’s who I have in me.” The brash words cause him to wince. “Don’t worry though. I’m sure your kids feel the same way about you. The ones you chose to raise.”
His throat works as he swallows. “Ouch, kid.”
I smile. “It’s fine. Really. I’m glad there was never any question who loved me.” I decide to launch into the talk I know he wants to have. Or rather, the talk I’d want to have with a family member I never hear from. “My brother, Shane, is at NYU studying graphic design. He wasn’t able to get back to the west coast for my BUD/S graduation, but I think he’ll be on break from college soon. Everything at the Teams is going well.” I think about all the struggles I went through and continue to go through. “Gets a little better every day. I don’t know how much Mom told you.”
While there’s never been a question of who my dad is, it’s Liam Dempsey, my mom has been a stalwart ex-spouse, giving Aaron updates when she deemed something important enough. “I’m on Team Five. Have some pretty awesome men backing me up. It’s surreal that I’ve finally got everything I worked my entire life for.” It’s like he never believed I actually wanted to be a SEAL even though I’ve been saying it my entire life. It was easier to brush off a rambunctious child, or even a moody teenager. Now that it’s reality, my truths are made more significant.
He smiles. “Who is the OIC these days?”
I mutter the Officer in Charge’s name. Aaron knows him and he tells me a story about how he deployed to Iraq with the guy back in the day. I try not to act that interested even if I am, because it’s giving him something he doesn’t deserve. My respect.
“We’re leaving soon for the coast of Africa. It should be interesting to say the very least.”
“I never got a deployment over that way,” he admits. “So, about London. Tell me about that. Quite a trip, huh?”
I should have known even a weather-worn rancher who is all but disconnected from the real world would have seen the story about Henry Durnin. “It was a fun gap year? I don’t know what to tell you.”
“That boy break your heart?”
“What did Mom tell you?”
He sighs, an awkward, jagged movement that tells me he’s been caught. “No, your mom didn’t tell me anything. Rochelle showed me a news article online, and I wanted to call you when it happened with that musician guy, but I don’t have your number and your mom doesn’t offer it because she says it’s your choice. She only gave it to me today because I was in town.”
I look up to a television in the corner playing the news on low.
He continues. “You’re tough as nails and I know you’re fine. Look at what you’ve accomplished. Even if I don’t agree with your career choice. It is impressive by anyone’s standards.”
That gets my attention. “How can you say you don’t agree with a choice that is the same choice you made? You’re hypocritical. Delusional. A prisoner of one bad incident that you alone let snowball into something else entirely. First Brittany, then, then,her.”
Technically a stepmom, but that word alone gives me hives. Brittany was who he ran to when he was released and my mom was with Liam. I’m breathing heavy now, trying not to let emotions get the best of me.
“You know what? Your choice isn’t the same as mine. It won’t be. You let an awful situation, that you signed up for, mind you, dictate the rest of your life.” Shaking my head, I hold my chin proud. “You may not have been the man for my mother, but you weren’t any sort of dad for me either.”
“I never said I didn’t agree with it. I want what’s best for you. That’s all I meant by it.” He shrugs. “It’s unsafe in the way training tigers are unsafe. I’d feel the same way if you chose to do that. I only pray that you don’t have to endure what I did, Aara.”
His deep eyes do that thing, that reflective, thoughtful haunting where you know the person is somewhere else, far away from where their body actually resides. It’s a real thing I can attest to. Career SEALs have it. They’ve seen and done deeds that can only be blanketed for periods of time. The glaring memories always come back, unbidden, and unwelcomed. “That’s my hope for you.”
