First Class Hero (First Class Novels) (14 page)

“Do you like Lebanese food?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “Never tried it.”

“Feeling adventurous?” he grinned.

“I trust you,” Nic declared, knowing she meant more than
just about his restaurant choice.

“Thank you,” he said with sincerity in his voice.

“Lebanese it is then!”

*****

Walking into the restaurant, Nic was surprised. It was
modern and chic, not the inside of Jeannie’s bottle like she expected from her
years of sitting in front of the television watching Major Nelson and Captain
Healy. Sadly her ignorance of the Middle East was showing.

They were seated quickly and given menus.

“Something to drink?” the hostess asked.

“I’ll take an Almaza,” Paul replied.

Nic looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“It’s a Lebanese beer,” he explained.

“Ah, I’ll just have water, please.”

“Sparkling or regular bottled?”

“Tap?” Nic asked. “With ice?”

Paul chuckled and the hostess disappeared. Nic studied the
menu and then closed it and laid it on the table.

“You’re gonna have to order for me,” she laughed.

“Wow!” Paul exclaimed. “You must trust me!”

“I do,” she smiled. “But I don’t like hummus.”

“Noted,” he grinned.

The waiter appeared with Paul’s beer and Nic’s water and
Paul placed their order. The restaurant was packed and Nic’s eyes wandered
around taking it all in.

“Spending a lot of time in the Middle East, I’ve learned to
like a lot of the food. Actually, I like most food from anywhere and
everywhere.”

“I like food from Virginia,” she chuckled. “Not sure about
anywhere else.”

The food began arriving and Nic liked it all, well except
for Baba Ghannouj. She discovered she wasn’t a real fan of eggplant.

On the taxi ride home, Paul was pleased with her adventurism.

“Well out of everything you tried tonight, not liking one
dish is pretty damn good, if you ask me,” Paul grinned.

“I called Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins,” Nic blurted.

“You did? When?”

“This afternoon. I didn’t tell them who I was, just that I
had some questions about their son.”

“And?”

“They invited me to their house.”

“Are you going to go?”

“Will you come with me?” she pleaded.

“Of course I will. When?”

“Sunday.”

The taxi pulled up in front of Nic’s apartment and Paul paid
the driver and escorted Nic to her door.

“Are you coming in?” she asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “This is only our third date.”

“Oh,” she blushed.

Paul took her face gently in his hands and touched his lips
to hers. She responded immediately and he kissed her again and pulled away.

“Will there be a fourth date?” he whispered.

Nic nodded.

“On Monday?”

She nodded again. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“What time do I pick you up on Sunday?”

“They said Sunday afternoon, so…”

“One o’clock?”

Nic nodded. Paul kissed her again, a lingering kiss and then
turned for the stairs and disappeared.

Sunday arrived and Nic wasn’t sure if she was happy or
nervous. She decided she was a bit of both. She was happy to see Paul again,
and nervous about her trip to Connecticut to meet the Wilkins. She kept herself
busy in the morning with some preparations for her class for the upcoming week.

A little after twelve she was ready to leave and just
waiting for Paul. While the clock ticked by slowly, she imagined all kind of
scenarios of her meeting her grandparents. She wondered if they knew about her.
Wouldn’t they have looked for her if they knew she existed? Maybe they were hippies
who had fried their brains in the sixties and wouldn’t know a VW bus from a
greyhound bus anymore. Or maybe they were completely ignorant to her existence.
There was no use thinking about it anymore. She would just have to wait and
see.

Paul arrived a few minutes before one and she ran down to
meet him as he was double parked. Nic stepped onto the curb to see Paul standing
next to a brand new red Audi A8.

“Really? This is your car?” she choked.

 “No!” he laughed. “This is my brother’s car.”

“The one who owns half of Manhattan?”

“No,” Paul grinned. “That’s Matt, or Mark. They both own
half of Manhattan. This is Andrew’s car.”

“And what does he own?” she asked as he held open the door
for her to slide into pure luxury.

“He’s a Wall Street tycoon,” Paul smirked.

Nic looked around the inside of the car. The back seat had a
car seat and lots of toys and some crumbs strewn across the leather.

“That would be from Isabelle, my niece,” he chuckled.

“So Andrew is rich but not snooty, cuz he has baby food all
over his $90,000 car!”

“You got it!” Paul grinned.

*****

The drive to West Haven took well over two hours. It was
enough time for Nic to really work up a good case of anxiety.

“Relax!” Paul said. “I’m here with you. It’s gonna be fine.”

“This is the most nerve-racking thing I have ever done. It even
beats driving the U-Haul!”

Paul grinned. “Almost there.”

The car’s GPS was instructing them through the neighborhood
until they pulled into a driveway of a well-kept home. It was ranch-style with
a two car garage and beautifully manicured lawn. There were flowering bushes in
the flower beds and the front door was a maroon color.

As Paul walked around the car to open her door, Nic took a
deep breath and tried to prepare herself emotionally for what was to come.  Paul
kept his hand on the small of her back as they walked to the front door. Nic
took another deep breath and knocked.

It only took a couple of seconds for the front door to swing
open and there stood a man, Nic guessed in his seventies, dressed in a dark
blue suit, white shirt and tie.

“You must be Nic,” he smiled.

“Yes. Hello Mr. Wilkins. This is my good friend Paul
Lathem.”

“Hello Mr. Wilkins,” Paul said and offered his hand.

Mr. Wilkins took it and smiled. “Come in, please.”

Nic stepped inside, with Paul right behind her, into the
immaculately kept house. Mr. Wilkins ushered them through the archway of the
small foyer into an inviting living room. As Paul and Nic sat on the sofa, she
noticed the furniture was old, but clean and very comfortable. They did not
appear to be of substantial means, but obviously took great care of what they
did have.

Mrs. Wilkins appeared through the dining room, and both Paul
and Nic stood and shook her hand as they introduced themselves. She seemed to
be staring at Nic, like there was something wrong. And she didn’t let go of
Nic’s hand.

“I…you…oh my,” she said.

The hairs on the back of Nic’s neck stood straight up and
there seemed to be some kind of recognition in Mrs. Wilkins’ face. Nic pulled
her hand away and looked at Paul, unable to speak.

“Irene, come and sit here,” Mr. Wilkins said as he pulled
his wife away from Nic.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins,” Paul began. “We certainly do not mean
to intrude, but…”

Nic placed her hand on Paul’s arm, stopping him from
continuing as she looked to her right. Over the brick fireplace was a photo of
a man dressed in a Sailor’s uniform. She was transfixed on his face and stood
slowly and walked towards it. His eyes, his nose, the shape of his face was
completely familiar to her.

“That’s Greg, our son,” Mr. Wilkins explained.

“She knows,” whispered Irene as she stood and walked to
stand beside Nic. “You knew him?”

Nic shook her head, a tear escaped and she quickly brushed
it away with the back of her hand.

“Then, I don’t think I understand,” Mr. Wilkins said,
obviously confused.

“I think I do,” Irene whispered. She turned to Nic and took
her hand. “Tell me why you’re here, dear.”

Nic turned to woman who was her grandmother. “I…I don’t know
where to begin.”

“At the beginning then,” Irene smiled.

Both women returned to their seats and Paul took Nic’s hand
in his. She smiled at him and took a deep breath.

“I was born in Norfolk, Virginia, on August 21
^st
,
1983,” she began.

Paul’s head whipped around to face her. “I missed your
birthday?” he whispered.

Nic smiled at him and turned back to the Wilkins’. “I never
knew my father. My mother, Heather, said he just disappeared, and…”

“Heather?” Mrs. Wilkins exclaimed. “Your mother is named
Heather?”

Nic nodded as Irene began to cry. “I knew it,” she choked.
“You
are
Greg’s daughter! I knew it the moment I saw you!”

“But…how?” Nic was baffled at Mrs. Wilkins’ sudden
realization.

“Go and get the box, Larry, please?” Irene asked her
husband.

Larry stood and left the room. Irene turned back to Nic and
Paul. “We didn’t know Heather was pregnant. We had no idea,” she cried.

Nic rushed to her grandmother and knelt in front of her
taking her hand. “I didn’t even know his name until a few weeks ago. My mother
never knew what happened; just that he left her without a word. It’s okay,” she
soothed Irene.

Larry returned with a shoebox and handed it to his wife. She
opened it and pulled out a notebook.

“These were his personal effects from his bunk on the ship. And
this is his journal. Here,” she said as she handed it to Nic.

Nic took it in her hands, caressing the small diary, for the
first time feeling some sort of connection with the father she would never meet.
She looked up at Paul who smiled at her and it gave her the strength to open
the cover. She flipped to November, 1982:

November 1

Phil, Jeff and I went
to get dinner off base tonight. And I met the girl of my dreams. She was our
waitress and when she smiled at me I knew. I saw her nametag
– her name
is Heather. I’m going back tomorrow!

November 2

She wasn’t working
tonight. But I’m going to keep coming back till I can see her again.

November 3

Jeff thinks I’m an
idiot. He says I could screw any girl I wanted so I shouldn’t be trying to get
a girlfriend. I don’t care. I’m going back tonight.

She was there! And she
talked to me. I asked her on a date on Friday and she said yes. She’s
beautiful. And nice. I think we’ll go see a movie.

November 4

Had a slight mishap at
work today. Phil got burned on some steam. His arm is pretty messed up but
he’ll be fine.

Tomorrow night is the
date with Heather. I’m going to borrow Jeff’s car. It’s gonna be great!

November 5

Just took Heather
home. We went to see the man from snowy river. Heather liked it. I couldn’t
understand most of it. It was from another country. And then we went and got
root beer floats at A & W and we talked for a long time. We both love
Foreigner and Hall & Oates. I think if we can agree on music the rest is
easy. She works the lunch shift tomorrow so I think I’m going to take her to
the dance at the Rec Center. She likes to dance.

November 12

Jeff still thinks I’m
an idiot. I’m not going to talk to him anymore about Heather. I really like her
a lot. And she seems to like me too. She invited me over tomorrow to her
apartment. We’re going to have a picnic.

I talked to my mom
today. She said Aunt Lillian died. I’m not really sad because she’s had cancer
for a long time. Mom didn’t seem sad either. I guess it would be weird to have
your sister die though. I don’t have to worry about that seeing as though
there’s just me.

November 14

Yesterday was a great
day. It was kind of cold but we had a picnic in the park. We had spam
sandwiches and cokes. Then we sat on the swings and talked for a while. I don’t
think fathers should hit their children. I would never hit my kids. My dad
didn’t hit me or my mom. Heather says I’m lucky. She gets sad when she talks
about her mom but she hates her dad and says she’s never going back home. She’s
not going to have to. I think I want to marry her.

November 16

Heather has to work
nights this week, except for Thursday so I am going to see her then. Jeff is
still being an asshole and says he won’t let me borrow his car if I’m wasting
my time on just one girl. He says I should have sex with as many girls as I can
before we leave for deployment next year. I don’t want to. I just want her.

November 20

I told Heather last
night that we have to go on a training exercise next week. We’ll be gone for a
week. She was pretty sad. But when we get back I’m going to ask her to come to
Connecticut with me for Christmas. I don’t think mom will mind. I hope she says
yes.

November 29

She cried when I left
her apartment last night. But I’m only going for a week. And then we’ll be
together. It’s so cramped here on the ship. The barracks have way more room.
Only six more days.

Nic closed the small spiral-bound notebook and wiped her
eyes. She looked up at her grandmother who took her hand. They smiled at each
other, a sad smile of loss and anguish, but also with hope.

“There’s also a letter in there,” Irene nodded to the
shoebox. “Larry can you find it?”

He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Nic.
Again, she looked back at Paul, seeking the emotional support she desperately
needed. He slid from the sofa and sat behind her, his hand resting on her hip.

Nic carefully unfolded the thirty year-old piece of paper
and read the few sentences before her.