Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Elle
A MASSIVE STEEL SIGN READING Welcome to the Waulumbee Shoreside Training Center greeted us as we sped down a lengthy private road. I grasped the seat belt buckle cutting into my waist in a poor attempt to remain calm and collected. It did nothing to help.
Speakers lining the shuttle’s aged cloth interior repeated the same automated message they likely had hundreds of times before. I tilted my head and angled my ear toward one, hoping it would help me catch the crackling robotic words. How could I follow the directions if I couldn’t hear them?
“Once we pass through the main gates and come to a complete stop, please exit the shuttle and follow the sidewalks and signs to the auditorium, where further screening will occur.
Before entering, you will be asked for your ID and your ticket to the ceremony.
If you do not have an approved form of identification and a proper ticket, you will be escorted back to your hotel.
“Please take note of this shuttle number and proceed to the loading area after the ceremony for your return ride.
Rides will run every fifteen minutes, starting in two hours, and until five p.m. this evening.
Please check your seat and ensure you have all your personal belongings with you.
Any belongings left behind will be confiscated for security purposes, as shuttles are promptly checked after every unloading.
“Finally, congratulations are in order for everyone heading to the ceremony. Without your support, we would not have the honor of welcoming so many courageous sailors into the Navy today. Please enjoy the ceremony, and again, we thank you for coming.”
I’d been to the Naval Air Station in Pensacola for field trips, but being on a base of this caliber was entirely different.
Navy SEALs, Blue Angel pilots, captains, and countless other heroes had all spent time learning within its gates.
Chills of respect and pride filled me, knowing I would soon hold a hero of my own.
The formality of the announcement emphasized the security that protected the base’s perimeter. Our arrival felt official and authentic. As promised, three people stayed on the shuttle before ever leaving it because they’d forgotten proper identification—a scenario I was sure to avoid.
Getting kicked out before I ever had a chance to see Jesse?
There was no chance I’d let that happen.
Once the shuttle parked, the remaining families stepped out of the vehicle and made their way through multiple security checkpoints, laughing and craning their necks to see further ahead before finally entering the massive, brightly lit auditorium.
Chattering excitedly, hundreds of people of all ages found vacant seats in the rows of bleachers lining one side of the echoing room.
Baby coos and inaudible jabbering surfed through the electrifying energy that fueled me as I turned in all directions, memorizing the moment, the feeling nesting deep in my stomach.
Several wide overhead doors remained closed on the opposite side of the room, forming a backdrop.
Is that where the graduates will enter? The thought compelled me to find a seat close to the front row so I wouldn’t have to fight through aisles of eager family members after the ceremony. Every second closer to Jesse was crucial. I wouldn’t be responsible for putting one more between us.
Minutes, hours? It was impossible to tell how much time had passed between finding my seat and the abrupt arrival of several uniformed officials approaching the staged podium at the head of the auditorium.
Pins and colorful ribbon bars filled the breast area of their white-as-snow uniforms, their experience and rank easy to spot, even from yards away.
Their arrival signaled the start of the ceremony I’d clung to for months.
My future was about to walk through those doors and show me what he was made of, how we could get through anything, and how it only made us stronger.
Pure, unfiltered pride bubbled from my pounding heart.
My legs bobbed. Sitting still was unrealistic.
A sudden, sharp echo of horns and percussion instruments quieted the audience surrounding me.
More uniformed service members, holding flags, marched across the floor, forming extremely precise formations that garnered respect from everyone in the room.
Silence had never been so loud.
A moment later, the colors were presented. Beside me, tears rolled down an older man’s face as he clutched a ball cap to his chest, the words Navy Veteran sewn across it. The sight splattered perspective all over me, reminding me of the sacrifices many had made to protect our country.
“Wow,” I whispered to myself.
The gentleman’s admiration of the moment left me with a sense of appreciation that was hard to convey but extremely easy to feel, defining patriotism in a way that beautifully haunted my previous understanding.
“Good morning, everyone. Thank you all for being here on this incredibly special day. We ask that everyone stay seated until liberty is called.” One of the men spoke into the podium’s microphone, directing our attention to the stage.
After a brief pause, the second, older gentleman began, “I understand this is a very exciting time for all of you, but these men and women have put their all into the ceremony today, and we request that each of you honors their hard work and gives them your full attention until today’s proceedings have concluded.
” His request should have been a no-brainer, but absence had a way of overpowering common sense.
I forced myself to remain as still as possible, my slick, sweaty hands begging me to wipe them. How was I supposed to remain seated when I desperately needed to pace back and forth and release the intense emotions frantically searching for a way out of my body?
The national anthem began to play, followed by a startling, unexpected rumble that welcomed hundreds of uniformed men and women through the open overhead doors, no longer hiding them.
Their faces were unique, yet their straightforward stares, pressed dress-white uniforms, and perfectly coordinated marches were in sync. Each step forward drew them closer to us. Everyone in my row, including me, struggled to remain silent.
I scanned the formations of male and female sailors, my eyes frantic in their search for Jesse. The group’s impressive cohesiveness made it impossible. The swoonworthy locks and athletic body I typically used to identify him were concealed, leaving few unique features to be recognized.
From what I knew about it, boot camp had been designed to strip people of parts of their individuality, uniting them as a single force.
The graduates before me all looked eerily similar—physically, in gaze, and in mentality.
In a good way though because they also appeared incredibly strong and cohesive. Worthy of absolute respect.
The sight stole my breath.
One of the voices from earlier dropped a vibrant, “Attennnnntion!” from the podium, commanding the graduates to a halt.
Using their stillness to my advantage, I desperately searched for Jesse. How could I not recognize my boyfriend in the crowd?
Sure, most of the men standing before me were similar in age and stature, but Jesse was the only man for me. Picking him out of a lineup shouldn’t have been such a challenge, even in a sea of look-alikes.
Knowing Jesse, I’d bet his ego had likely taken a hit during his time away, as all the men and women facing me were attractive in their own unique ways. I made a mental note to ensure he felt like the only man in the world.
He was the only man in mine after all.
The rest of the ceremony was a blur. I focused on finding Jesse instead of the heartfelt, patriotic speech the master of ceremonies gave. Time dragged on agonizingly, like an undeserved punishment.
Twenty minutes of forced stillness later, the magic word liberty was called. Cheers, howls, and an intense stampede of family members erupted as the bleachers unloaded like saltshakers without lids.
Fireworks made of tear-laced embraces lit up the auditorium floor. Each step I took closer to the action became more difficult. People flooded every inch of my vision, leaving me disoriented and overstimulated. The level of emotion infecting my body wasn’t my friend.
I needed it to end.
My head swiveled, Operation Find Jesse taking longer than I’d hoped.
Inching my way through the thick crowd, I turned around, kissing backs with a uniformed man the same height as Jesse.
Buzzed hair, matching Jesse’s unmistakable color, poked out from the bottom of his Dixie Cup cover.
The familiar scent I’d recognize anywhere infiltrated my nostrils. I admired him from behind.
My man.
Holy fucking fuck pulsed through my veins at the same rate as my heartbeat, pushing my anxieties aside to make way for our long-awaited reunion.
It didn’t matter how much deodorant I’d applied or how much perfume rested on my neck; a light glisten of sweat coated every inch of my skin. His stature was impossible to miss, even from behind.
Turn around, Jesse. I’m right here, I thought.
It was time for our moment—the moment—which required patience but had character built into its framework. I finally felt good about building a future with him because the words in his letters had cemented their confidence into my heart.
Our new life started the moment I placed my hand on his shoulder.