Page 13 of Eight Years (The Trident Trilogy 1)

Chapter Seven

Outer Banks, North Carolina

2000

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to stay away from those lilac bushes, Millicent. They’re just thick with bees this time of year,” Camille said as she clamped down on Millie’s arm, now red and swelling from bee stings.

Camille was frustrated by everything about this child. Millie was trusting, optimistic, and silly—the exact opposite of her. Camille had tried from day one to discourage those qualities in Millie, but they just kept popping back up like the short-lived weeds in Camille’s meticulous garden.

“I was just trying to get them to sit on my arm like the butterflies do,” Millie said insistently.

Millie played in the yard for hours talking to any friend she could find—birds, squirrels, butterflies. Camille told Mack she thought the child was half simple but, as usual, Mack encouraged Millie’s behavior. It drove Camille crazy that Mack wasn’t raising Millie to recognize the harsh realities of the world. Camille looked forward to when Mack was on deployment for three or four months at a time. That gave her the opportunity to really work on correcting some of Millie’s more annoying behaviors. But then Mack would always come back, and the two of them would ruin all the hard work Camille had put in.

“Sit still, Millicent.” Camille pushed Millie down on the lawn chair as she tried for the third time to apply the baking soda paste to the stings. “Let the paste dry before you get up,” she said as she turned swiftly to go back into the house, the screen door slamming definitively behind her.

Millie laid back on the lawn chair, and closed her eyes. She hated when Camille called her Millicent. It was her given name, but she thought it sounded mean, especially the way Camille said it. She liked the name Millie. That’s what her daddy called her. The chair’s polyester straps were digging uncomfortably into her bare legs, but she didn’t dare move. She knew Camille was watching from the kitchen, waiting for another reason to scold her.

I’ll just wait here for Daddy, she thought. Millie heard Camille on the phone with him last night. As usual, Camille told him he didn’t need to come, but Millie knew he’d show up. He always did.

Mack didn’t bother going in the house when he arrived. He had to be back in Virginia Beach in a few hours. He didn’t want to waste any of his time on Camille’s nonsense. He found Millie on the porch sleeping uncomfortably on a lawn chair. Her little arms had turned as red as the persistent strawberry streaks in her golden hair.

“Millie, sweetie.” He shook her gently.

“Daddy!” She leaped out of the chair and into his arms.

Mack carried her to the shade of the overgrown oak tree in the front yard. He tried to put her down on the grass, but she maneuvered herself until she was sitting on his lap. She rested her head against his broad chest and, as usual, his heart melted.

“Sweetie, you can’t fall asleep in the sun. You’re getting a sunburn and little blisters,” Mack said, running his big, calloused hands lightly over her little arms.

“Oh no Daddy, that’s not a sunburn. The bees bit me.”

“Oh, sweetie, do they hurt?” Mack lightly kissed them, making her giggle. Mack wanted to record that sound and take it with him everywhere he went.

“Were you under the lilacs again?” He already knew the answer. That was her favorite place in the yard.

She shrugged and nuzzled in closer to his chest. He never got mad at her like Camille did, but she liked to make sure. She knew her daddy liked to snuggle.

“Sweetie, you have to stay away from those bushes in the summer. I told you that last time.”

She sighed like the weight of the world rested on her little shoulders. “Why are the bees so mean to me? I want them to like me. The butterflies like me.”

“Millie, bees aren’t like butterflies. They’re workers. They have a job to do, and that’s all they want to do. They don’t have time to sit on your arms.”

“They can take a break like everyone else does,” Millie said.

The world is so simple to her, Mack thought. And that’s the way he wanted to keep it.

“They don’t want breaks, sweetie. They like their work, and they just want to do nothing but that. If you try to get in their way, you get stung.” Mack smiled as he realized he was basically describing himself.

“Everybody likes breaks,” Millie said, sighing dramatically at such a crazy notion.

“Bees don’t. It’s just the way they’re built. God made them that way. It’s not right or wrong. It’s just how they are.”

“Butterflies take breaks,” Millie said defiantly. “They don’t work.”

“Well, they do some work, but they don’t work very hard. They just fly around from flower to flower and only work when they want to. They don’t really have a plan. Butterflies just land on whatever flower looks nice to them and makes them happy.”

Millie sighed as she let the hot summer breeze begin to lull her back to sleep. “Daddy, I’d really rather be a butterfly.”

“You are, sweetie. You’re a butterfly,” he said as he gently stroked her head. He couldn’t imagine how she was going to survive in the world, but he loved her spirit and encouraged her to be carefree—something he hadn’t felt one day in his childhood.

Mack knew Camille wasn’t a good influence on her. He thought several times about moving Millie to Virginia Beach, and hiring a nanny when he worked. But he knew he’d just be trading one evil for another, and shockingly, Camille was the lesser of the evils. Mack didn’t want Millie anywhere near his professional life. When he was in Virginia Beach, he ate, slept, and breathed his job. The minute he crossed over the Virginia-North Carolina border on his way to see Millie, he transformed into a different person. He needed to keep that separation for his sake, as much as hers.

Unless he had a career-ending injury, Mack figured he had about ten years left of being an operator. He could retire with full pension before he was forty. He planned to move with Millie somewhere near the naval base in San Diego, maybe teach a few classes to new recruits. Millie could go to college in California, and they’d go surfing in her free time. He had it all figured out. Now, he just had to get there.

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