Page 10 of Rescuing Mia
“It’s not that I don’t want you there. I wish more than anything that you could come with me, but the flight to the Philippines is long, and the journey from there to Australia is even longer. The waters can be rough. I know how you get seasick.”
She hates it when I make her get in the water. Stormy fixes me with a stare. It’s slowly sinking in.
“I know you won’t be.” A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “But this trip, it’s not like our usual adventures. The diving gear is complicated, and it could be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. I need to focus on the dive, and I can’t do that if I’m worried about you.”
Instead of responding, Stormy gives me the cold shoulder. She turns from me, her attention captured by the world rushing by outside. She leans into the open window, the wind whipping through her hair, transforming it into a wild dance. Each gust carries the scent of adventure, and she breathes it in deeply, a look of pure bliss on her face.
When she looks back at me, sadness fills her eyes.
She gets it.
A lump forms in my throat, the tightness making it hard to swallow.
“It’s only one month, and I promise that as soon as I get back, we’ll go on our own adventure—just the two of us. We’ll explore every inch of that farm, and I’ll tell you all about the fish and coral reefs, the colors so bright and vibrant it’s like swimming in a rainbow. How does that sound?”
I picture Stormy’s smile spreading across her face, her eyes lighting up at the thought of our future adventure. I scratch her back and ruffle her hair, the silky strands slipping between my fingers.
As we pull up to the farmhouse, I’m greeted by the scent of freshly cut grass, which mingles with the fragrant blooms of the nearby flower beds. The familiar crunch of gravel under the tires marks our arrival.
The soft chirping of birds in the trees fills my ears as I step out of the truck, stretch my legs, and breathe in the fresh country air.
Sarah and her husband, Mark, emerge from the house, their welcoming smiles warm and inviting. When Sarah heard I was getting out of the Navy, she opened her home to me.
Our home.
We grew up here.
But the vineyard is hers and Mark’s now. They took over operations of the vineyard after our parents’ tragic deaths well over ten years past.
The important thing is that she didn’t hesitate to offer me a place to stay. Not only did she not hesitate, but she invited me to stay for as long as I need until I figure out what I want to do with my life.
As for Stormy, she’s out of the truck in a flash, her body a blur of energy and purpose. She makes a beeline for Sarah and Mark, her excitement palpable in every stride.
Her training as a SEAL team ammunition dog, along with her recent retirement, hasn’t dulled her zest for life one bit; in fact, it’s heightened it.
She approaches them, her tail wagging like a flag of victory. Without pause, she sniffs and circles them, her bark ringing out not as a command but as an invitation to play.
It’s a greeting that speaks of countless missions and unwavering loyalty, now transformed into an expression of pure, unfiltered happiness.
As Sarah bends down to greet Stormy, the lines around her eyes tell stories of wisdom and care, a subtle testament to the decade she has on me. Her laughter, rich with memories, echoes the protective role she embraced in our childhood when she used to bandage my scraped knees and soothe my troubled dreams. My sister is a saint, stepping in as my legal guardian after the accident that took our parents from this world.
Even as she interacts with Stormy, there’s a nurturing depth in her touch, a reflection of the many years she watched over me. She now extends that loving touch to my closest companion, Stormy.
“I can’t believe Stormy’s finally here. It’s like she’s always been meant to be part of the family.” She crouches to meet Stormy at her level, her hands gently exploring Stormy’s coat. She pauses at the scars that whisper of Stormy’s past life.
“She’s got quite the spirit.” Mark, ever the stoic, cracks a smile that fills his eyes with light. “You’ve told us so much about her, but seeing her in action—well, it’s something else.”
Stormy’s antics draw us away from the heavy conversations about the future, about my leaving the Navy, about what’s next.
I left the Navy without a plan. There’s no job lined up and no thoughts toward the future. Which goes against everything I’ve done so far in my life. I’m an obsessive planner. I have—had—five, seven, and ten-year plans for my future penned in my planners since the age of seven.
I always knew I’d be in the Navy.
Always knew I’d be a U.S. Navy SEAL, like my father before me.
I thought I would make it a career—like my father—until those boots no longer fit. I feel like I let him down, but this world andthese wars are—different. Different enough to make me question my choices.
For now—in this moment, it’s just me reunited with my sister, with Stormy by my side, trying to figure out what comes after life in the Navy.