THE TALK

By Mary Elliott

The four senior officers sat sipping their drinks in silence. The last of the day’s partygoers had left, and the four men on Admiral Nelson's patio appreciated the peace and quiet of the twilight hours. Nelson glanced at a very quiet Lee, who had been unusually withdrawn during the last several hours. This behavior cemented the admiral’s resolve to arrange some private time for an important talk. Harry leaned forward and offered refills from the bottle of Scotch. Declining, Jamie stood and stretched.

“Time for me to head on home. I promised my sister I'd hang the porch swing the grandkids got my brother-in-law for Father's Day. While they’re at church, I'll be able to put it up as a surprise.”

“You need any help? I don't have any plans for tomorrow morning,” Chip offered as he too stood up to leave.

“Thanks, I could use another set of hands. Tell you what; I'll treat you to breakfast. Okay?”

“Feed him and he'll be your friend for life,” teased Lee, trying to hold back a yawn. “I think I'll hit the sack myself. Those kids wore me out.”

“Poor Lee, guess you've finally earning the title OM,” Chip taunted his best friend.

“So Mr. Morton, do you think I've earned the title OOM?” snarled the admiral, unsuccessful at keeping the twinkle out of his eyes.

Yes sir, I mean, no sir, I…” The other three men burst out laughing at Chip’s discomfort.

“Don't worry, Chip, after watching those children run all over the place with endless energy, I really do feel like an old old man.”

The four men walked towards the cars parked in the driveway and goodbyes were exchanged once more. Lee had already opened the car door to his Cobra, when Nelson called him back.

“Lee, do you have any plans for lunch tomorrow? If not, why don't you come over? There's plenty of leftover food and I even managed to save a nice chunk of watermelon for you.”

“I'd be happy to, Admiral, if you sure you could stand some more company after today. Wouldn't you prefer the solitude?”

“No, I’d enjoy your company and... well, there's something I need to talk over with you.”

“Sir, if it is important, I can stay.”

“No, no, tomorrow will be fine. Get a good night’s sleep, Lee, and I'll see you at one o'clock, all right?”

“Yes, sir, one o'clock suits me fine."

Harry watched Lee drive off. Maybe he should have asked him to stay but both men were tired. What he had to say was too important, and they both would need clear heads. Even though Lee had managed to work himself out of his earlier moodiness, Nelson thought it would benefit them both if Lee had some rest.

*****

As Lee drove the short distance to his condo, he wondered what the admiral had up his sleeve. Was it possible Nelson knew Admiral Johnson wanted him for a long term undercover assignment for the ONI? Lee had spent several hours on Thursday discussing the mission with Johnson, but had ultimately turned it down. Lee realized he was not the best agent for this assignment and successfully argued that case, or so he thought. Maybe Nelson was being pressured to try and persuade him to change his mind. That idea sounded far-fetched, the admiral usually complained, long and loud, about any ONI jobs Lee undertook.

Whatever it was, worrying wasn't going to help, Lee thought, as he pulled into his driveway. The day had been hard on him, bringing to mind his unpleasant childhood. Perhaps another drink and some soft jazz would help him return the unhappy memories to their proper place in the back of his mind.

*****

This time it was Nelson who picked at the food. Something was obviously bothering him. Last night, the admiral had said he needed to talk; now with the obvious lack of appetite, Lee was beginning to worry. Was the admiral ill, did he want to break the bad news in the privacy of his home instead of at the Institute?

Admiral Nelson finally pushed his almost untouched plate away. He seemed reluctant to talk about whatever the problem was. Lee was positive it was something personal the admiral wanted to get off his chest. Nelson never had trouble expressing his displeasure at ONI or about a project.

“Lee, let's take our coffee into the den.”

The young officer readily agreed and followed his superior into the other room. Motioning Lee to take a chair, Nelson continued to stand, pacing around the room, finally stopping at a mahogany cabinet from which he removed a large album. With slightly trembling hands he gave it to Lee.

“I think it's time you saw this,” the admiral remarked in a quiet voice.

Lee looked at the first page in great confusion. There before him were several pictures of his first weeks at Bradford Academy. Pasted across from that was a letter addressed to Captain Harriman Nelson, detailing Lee's performance for the first month of classes. Photos and reports filled many more pages. Several were from the office of the commandant and others from his favorite teachers describing his progress in their classes.

Occasionally, there was a request seeking Nelson's approval for a special trip or activity. Among the papers were several letters from Father Michael O'Brien. Lee didn't say a thing while he turned page after page filled with the history of his six years at Bradford. He reached the final page where there were pictures of him making the valedictorian speech, and a copy of his high school diploma. Closing the book, Lee placed it on the coffee table. He looked at Admiral Nelson, sitting motionless on the leather couch, staring at Lee's face waiting for a reaction.

Or possibly the explosion.

“It was you, you were Father O'Brien's old Navy friend,” Lee stated in an incredulous voice. “You kept me out of foster care, paid my tuition to Bradford Academy. How? When did you meet him?” *

“Didn't he ever tell you about the years he was a chaplain in the Navy? We had many talks about God versus science, plus he was a good poker player who liked a “bit of the Irish” now and then. Keeping you out of foster care was Mike's handiwork. I just helped with the finances -- and not for the first time. There were a few other occasions when Mike had come to me about a troubled child. I was glad to help. Mike knew you were special and could do wonderful things in your life, if given the opportunity. As I got to know you through other people’s eyes, I was in total agreement.”

Lee was thunderstruck at the admiral's words. He had greatly admired Nelson since attending his lectures at Annapolis, and later serving under him aboard the Nautilus. When he was offered the captaincy of Seaview after Captain Phillips’s death, Lee had been ecstatic knowing his “adopted” brother Chip would be his XO, and that he would be with “family”. Now, he was learning of someone else who had taken over the role of parent, even if it was from a distance, in his formative years and he was overwhelmed. A multitude of emotions and questions flowed through him in rapid succession.

Sadness – He wondered what it would have felt like to have someone help him through those uncertain times when puberty struck, and all the changes a young man experienced. To have someone to guide him while making decisions concerning his future.

Suspicion – Had the admiral used his connections and influence to help advance Lee's career, help him rise in rank so rapidly?

And oh so briefly, anger – So many years without knowing of the admiral's interest. Why hadn't Nelson spoken up earlier?

Curiosity – What had Father O'Brien and the then Captain Nelson seen in him to believe he could accomplish so much?

Uncertainty – What did Admiral Nelson expect; would he be a disappointment to his benefactor?

And finally, great happiness – He’d found a father, he now had a complete family, for so many years something he had ached for.

There would be many nights, he was sure, probably over a drink or two, as the two men worked out all the ramifications of what the admiral had revealed. Lee knew it would take time to figure out the answers, but the driving question now was why Nelson had waited so long to bring this up.

There was a silence in the room, broken only when Lee went over to the liquor cabinet to pour out two scotches. Walking over to the occupied couch, he handed one glass to Admiral Nelson.

“I think we both need something a little stronger than the coffee.” Lee took a small sip and sat down next to the older man. “I'm flabbergasted to say the least. Why now? Why not when Father O'Brien first asked for your help? Why did you feel you needed to remain anonymous? Didn't anyone tell you I had repeatedly asked to meet the person who was helping me?”

*****

Lee finally paused for breath allowing a shaken Harry to offer some explanations. Harry took a big swallow of his drink as he paused for a moment to organize his thoughts before he spoke. So far, Lee was handling the astonishing information rather well. Nelson had half expected Lee to lose his temper and storm out of the house, slamming doors as he went. He saw that Lee was agitated, the very rapid twisting of his ring was always a sign of stress. He witnessed Lee's emotions play out on his face in quick succession. His normally controlled poker-faced had failed him this afternoon. And those eyes of his were doing the color changing act. The usually amber hue that signified a calm state of mind was now a brown color – another sign of inter turmoil.

The admiral realized he needed to present his answers to all of Lee's rapid fire questions in a relaxed manner, because the next several minutes could affect their lives forever. He took another quick sip of liquid courage, noticing Lee's nervous tapping of his foot, an indication he was waiting impatiently for the explanations. Harry took a long drag on the ever present cigarette, gave an uneasy cough to loosen his tight throat, and began to speak.

“When Father Mike first called I said I would finance a one-year scholarship. I really didn't think too much about it. I trusted Mike's judgment. He said it was important to get you out of the temporary foster home and into some place more permanent. It was essential to hurry before you got trapped in the system.”

“No, you did more than give me a scholarship. I remember being told about an anonymous legal guardian since my mother was incapable of caring for me. You arranged to pay for clothing and all the extras, like for scuba diving lessons and sailing lessons. You even gave me a generous monthly allowance,” interjected a stunned Lee.

The admiral continued almost as if unaware of the interruption. “Father Mike and I talked several times during those first couple months you were at Bradford. I became intrigued with your situation. I spoke to the commandant and several teachers. They all said about the same thing. You had a thirst for knowledge, always asking questions, pushing for something more. But outside the classroom, you were very quiet and painfully shy. The school psychologist reported you were withdrawn and putting up barricades so you wouldn't have to make friends. If you didn't get close to anyone no one could hurt or desert you again.

“I remember, it was around your fourth month there that Mr. Alexander, your social studies teacher, wrote me about how some older students were picking on you, calling you names and even pushing you around a little. You would just try to ignore it, maybe afraid if you reacted there would be more violence against you. One day two of those boys went after a fourth grader, causing the youngster to drop his books into a mud pile. The bullies laughed, that is, until you interceded and told them to pick up and clean off the books. If I recall correctly, the outcome was one black eye and one bloody nose for the bullies versus one torn shirt and some cleaned off books for the good guys.

“Mr. Alexander kept a closer eye on you after that, worried about retaliation. He was surprised the next day when you made a point of sitting at the bullies’ table for lunch. He overheard your offer to tutor the leader in math if the boy would help you with your basketball shooting. He continued sending me weekly letters detailing how you ended up tutoring another student in science, and although you didn't make the team, you persisted at working on your game, joining in on pickup games of basketball. One of my favorite letters was when he told me you had finally gotten some demerits for being involved in a harmless prank concerning the gym teacher. In fact, he was pretty sure you were the mastermind behind sending the teacher’s boxer shorts up the flagpole. The shorts went up, and your “walls” came down.

“It was then I realized how special you were. You overcame a lot of heartache and disillusionment, but you decided to rejoin the human race and stop retreating to your safe place. That took a lot of courage. My lawyers set up a guardianship to ensure you could attend any extracurricular activities or studies you wanted or needed. My goal was to make sure you enriched your life as much as possible.”

“But why remain anonymous?” Lee repeated.

“To be honest, there was a good reason I wanted to remain unknown. You were still hurting over your father’s abandonment and, according to Father Mike, you were sure he would come back home especially if he discovered you were attending Bradford Academy. I didn't want you to feel I was trying to replace your dad, it was obvious you still loved him.”

“And what does that say about me? How could I love a man who physically abused me, told me I was stupid and worthless? He even tried to blame me for my mother's mental problems.”

Quickly, Lee looked away as his voice broke. The tears were forming behind his closed eyes. Nelson knew how words could hurt, just as much if not more than any broken ribs received.

“It showed strength of character to love someone who was very hard to love.”

Both men remain silent sipping their drinks needing the break to rein in their emotions. Lee, unable to sit still any longer, got up to retrieve the album from the coffee table; pausing before a picture on the wall taken shortly after he had become Captain of the Seaview. Someone from PR had insisted on photographing Nelson, Crane, and Morton in front of the submarine. This one was not chosen for publication. It was deemed not professional enough for news releases, since the three men had pushed back their caps showing off grinning faces, Chip and Nelson draping their arms around Lee who was standing in the middle.

Lee returned, stood before Nelson and handed him the album. “Why show me this now?”

“I made up my mind when Chip nearly died from the poisonous bite.** You know me well enough to realize I dislike emotional scenes. I kept postponing it, trying to convince myself it didn't matter. I saw the look in your eyes at the party yesterday when you were watching the children play with their fathers, well, I knew then it did matter. You needed to know someone did – does – care for you.”

The captain nodded his head. “Seeing the families together made me remember how much I missed out on in my own childhood. The feeling’s always been there, I've just gotten better at hiding it.”

“Look Lee, all this must be overwhelming to you.”

Nelson paused, unsure what to say next, not wanting Lee to feel obligated or pressured. Since the sixth grade, he had been involved in Lee's life. He remembered checking over every report of Lee's school achievements, and later, even his naval accomplishments. The admiral needed to make sure Lee got every chance possible. He had treated Lee as if he was his own flesh and blood. The admiral had had time to adjust to his growing paternal feeling towards the young man. Now he had to be patient and allow time for Lee to assimilate all this new information.

“We have a good relationship, both professionally and personally, that I don't want to destroy. And I'm still not trying to replace your dad, but you need to know I could not be prouder of you, be more proud of the outstanding and courageous man you have become, as if I truly was your father.”

“I don't think there's any way this relationship can be destroyed, sir. Not now. We have a lot to talk about. There are a lot of things I need to know.”

Nelson studied Lee's body language, looking for some sign, of what, understanding, maybe even forgiveness? Lee’s hands had stilled from the relentless ring twisting and the admiral could see the lines of tension in Lee's face beginning to relax into a little grin. Harry could feel his own body unwinding. He hadn't lost the young man, who he felt in his heart, was his son. Would Lee ever feel the same closeness towards him? A man could hope.

The dark-haired man picked up the album again and turned to the end of it, pointing at a picture where he appeared in his best uniform, dressed for graduation day. Nelson wasn't sure who had snapped it, but it showed Lee gazing into the crowd of well-wishers, as if searching for someone.

“I'd kept hoping my mysterious guardian would show up that day. I wanted to thank him personally, to tell him what his generosity had meant to a very mixed up kid. I needed to tell him how much he changed my life, but I couldn't, ‘cause he never showed up.”

“For that, I'm truly sorry, Lee. I realize now what a great mistake I made. I hope you can forgive me, but I was concerned since you had been accepted at Annapolis it would be awkward. And I was hoping that my next duty assignment would be an instructor billet at the Academy.”

“And didn't want me to feel like a teacher’s pet. At least you were there for me four years later, and I have you to thank for making sure my mom was able to attend my graduation from Annapolis. I guess that evens the score. “*

Nelson observed the grin was much wider now, and the gleam was back in those, oh so, expressive eyes. Yes, acceptance and forgiveness had been given, that was enough for him today.

“Sir, it’s getting late and I have a date for tonight, so I only have one more question I need an immediate answer to.”

“Of course, Lee. Ask anything you want,” came the willing reply.

The young man stuck his hands into the back pocket of his blue jeans, and rocked back and forth on his heels. His amber eyes sparkled with the mischief, and with a cocky smile on his face, he looked the older man square in the face.

“Can I borrow the car, Dad?”

Author’s Note

*Letters

**All Things Work Together