Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(89)

Beverly and Bryce are already engrossed in the movie that’s starting, so they don’t even notice, especially when he’d mentioned something about going off to get his brakes looked at. His mechanic is in the area as well.

I turn my attention to the film about the infamous attack on Pearl Harbor, bringing the US into World War II.

I’m hoping it’ll help me stop thinking about what might happen if Flint gets caught. He swears he won’t, and I believe him, but I’m still scared for him.

The narration keeps my attention on the screen, and soon I’m engrossed.

It’s not actually new.

I’ve been to Pearl Harbor several times over the years. It’s practically a rite of passage for every kid who grows up on the island.

But I’d never paid such close attention because this film seems new to me.

Sure, I know the history. We all do. The what and why, but the sacrifices of thousands of sailors and soldiers and airmen...I’ve never considered it before. And I’d never thought much about their families suffering, either, anxious men and women who must’ve waited on tenterhooks for some word about their loved ones.

The fact that I never wondered until now reminds me how selfish I was. Living the high life as a Gerard meant being insulated, free from the pain and the worries of mere mortals.

By the time the documentary wraps up, this hot shame pulses through my blood.

I don’t want to be that person again.

I can’t go back.

“Valerie, the movie’s over,” Bryce says, getting up. “Come on, we’re gonna look at the submarine.”

I follow along for the next hour. The submarine is a little more cramped than the other attractions, so I go with Bryce alone while his grandmother hangs back.

I see the entire memorial with new eyes. It’s incredible.

So is how animated Bryce gets by everything he reads and touches. It’s a quiet, respectful excitement. A boy in awe at the sacrifices a fine group of men and women made one December day, and then throughout the dark years of war ahead.

Later, he even talks about joining a branch in the service someday, just like his father.

Is that why I’m more tuned in this time? Because I know a SEAL?

There aren’t any in my family. None that I know. I think my grandfather served in Europe, but he died well before I was born.

Mostly, I hope it’s like Flint said yesterday while I was emotionally exploding all over us. I want to believe I’m changing, becoming better, and part of that means greater empathy.

I’m dwelling on it for most of the day, losing track of time.

It’s not until later, when we’re at the swap meet, trying to keep up with Beverly as she bounces from table to table, two huge bags stuffed full of shirts and hand-carved artwork already in her hands, that I realize how late it is. And my heart starts to pound.

Flint should’ve been back by now.





16





The Thrill of the Chase (Flint)





The second I stepped on King Heron property over an hour ago, I knew something was off.

It looks deserted, practically abandoned, aside from the lady at the front office who hadn’t thought twice about letting me in. Or checking the calendar to see if I had an appointment.

I didn’t even need to use my prepared excuse.

To make it look good, I’d sprayed the baseboards around her desk first, then down the halls, and around the open, public spaces. I don’t know shit about bug spray, so I picked up some environmentally friendly stuff Cash swore would do the trick.

Sometimes being friends with a weirdo as obsessed with birds as he is pays off.

Sometimes.

Then I went down the hall, peeking in and out of empty offices on the left and right. Nothing out of the ordinary caught my eye.

Near the back door, I pause, looking out the window at the fleet of ships docked nearby. They’re the stereotypical kind of big, hulking vessels used in deep sea fishing across the Pacific, mostly from the seventies and eighties, well maintained without many rust spots.

All in all, it looks like any other fishing fleet out of the Honolulu metro, but it’s not.

The other companies lining the shore don’t have as many ships in dock. And they’ve mostly converted to smaller, sleeker vessels. Maintaining these colossal near-tankers should’ve become too expensive over a decade ago based on the rising costs of fuel alone on the islands.

Of course, Stanley Gerard and then his son found another source of coin.

Tearing myself away from the window, I press on.

There’s one office left at the very end of the hall, the one I’ve been waiting to see the most.

RAYMAN GERARD, PRESIDENT sticks to the door in large block letters.

I hold my breath, trying the handle, hoping I won’t have to resort to Plan B if it’s locked.

Nope. The door swings open easily, and I step inside.

It’s lavishly furnished with modern chairs, a work desk, and shelves and file cabinets reaching to the ceiling. The other offices were too, but this one looks used.

There’s something odd about it, too. I pull Valerie’s map out of my pocket, mainly to confirm my instincts. The offices are laid out exactly as she’s drawn them, and so is this one, but it’s also different.

It’s got to be the size.