Chapter Thirteen: 10,000 Chocolate Chip Cookies

 I opened my eyes and groaned, feeling the rain on my cheeks. My head throbbed, and my leg burned. I didn't remember much, but I believed something hit me from behind, and I crashed my Corsair on Valley Forge's Flight Deck. Now, my Corsair nearly hung off the deck, but my weight kept her stable.

 The cockpit opened, and Ted appeared beside me, his curly blonde hair soaked. He grabbed me and said, "I've got you, Cheeky."

 I felt warm blood in my short brown hair and on my face, but I didn't dare look at my leg.

 Ted tried to be gentle, but I still cried out when he pulled me out of the cockpit, accidentally knocking my helmet off in the process, which landed back in it. The second we hit the Flight Deck, my beloved Corsair, whom I had since the war's beginning, plummeted into the ocean.

 On instinct, I stood and limped toward the edge, jaw dropping as if I were the biggest baby of 1953. "I lost my airplane," was the only thing I said.

 Ted helped me onto the deck and yelled, "Corpsman!" while I watched the area where my Corsair used to be.

***

 Ted went beyond that day. He remained by my side the entire journey to Sick Bay. I ended up with a minor head injury and a bruised leg and was out of action for a few weeks. This picture in Willed, which I'm looking at before Natalie and I leave for Patriots Point, was taken the day I was clear to fly again. Two weeks later, I killed Ted.

 I remove the picture and open my locket, rubbing my finger across Ted's face (he still sported a few pimples from adolescence).

 Teddy leans against me, and his shoulders relax. His follow-up appointment with the vet is at 1330, soon after I finish my shift. Today's going to be hard for both of us.

 On the way to Patriots Point, I re-read my notes on Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo and The Fighting Lady in my notebook. I hope Temple won't ask about them, but I'm optimistic he will ensure I completed my homework assignment.

 Rain will come later today, but it's muggy and humid now. I can tell by the washed-out sky above Natalie and me. Why did we move down here again—to escape the New York cold? Although, from what I've seen so far, South Carolina is a fine state—especially since it holds the USS Yorktown.

 I slip my hand into my pocket and draw Ted and I's picture when Natalie parks in her usual parking spot at Patriots Point. However, I hide it between my right arm and the door and wait until she shuts off the car. I then show her the picture and say, "Here, Natalie. You can show Tallulah this picture. This was taken after I recovered from my plane crash." I had thought long and hard about Natalie's request since she asked on Fighting Lady Day, concluding that I would try to be a better dad. I still don't know what she and Tallulah are investigating, but I could help, even though opening up about Ted hurts.

 "Oh, Daddy, thank you, but..." Natalie pushes the picture back into me. "Why don't you give it to Tallulah yourself? She's considering beginning to volunteer for Patriots Point and has a meeting with Temple today."

 Wait, what? Is Tallulah a stalker?

 Natalie reads my mind. "No, she's not a stalker; she just likes naval history and wants to learn from you."

 "Why me?" I drop the picture onto my lap and open my car door. "Did you tell her I miraculously experienced the Lazarus effect during my service? Because I can guarantee you that I did not."

 Natalie chuckles. "No, it's... something else, but we need more time." She clears her throat and gently pushes my shoulder. "Now, go get them, tiger. I'll meet you on the pier at noon, and we'll take Teddy for his appointment. And please, give Tallulah a chance."

 I guess I have no choice now.

 I'm about to close my door when Teddy barks and crawls over the center console into my seat.

 "Teddy!" Natalie yells.

 Teddy sits and lifts his paws, reaching for me. Please don't leave me, Bill, read his eyes.

 "Oh, Teddy, it'll be okay." I hug him, and Teddy whimpers. "I'll see you at noon. Natalie will take care of you."

 But what if she gets rid of me? More fear clouds Teddy's eyes.

 She won't… I hope.

 "Come here, boy." Natalie pulls Teddy away and rubs his back.

 I close the door and watch the poor dog, whose gaze never leaves mine, while Natalie restarts the car, backs up, and leaves. Why do I feel like I've just lost another best friend?

 I silently wait for the golf cart to pick me up beside the bench before the Ship Store and attempt to think of ways how to convince Natalie to keep Teddy. I wonder if I can develop a pitch to share at the vet later.

 Even if Natalie doesn't send Teddy to the Humane Society today, I fear what will happen when he fully recovers. She told me she would consider adopting him if I keep trying Patriots Point, but I don't believe I've made much progress in the past two weeks (damn you, Ted!). I'm still a feral bulldog running rampant in a city of memories.

 "Oh, my gosh, William!"

 The familiar voice snaps me out of my trance, and I glance forward, seeing the woman I met last week speed-walking toward me.

 Tallulah looks like she just got her hair colored and styled; it's in a bob and appears more dirty blonde than last week. She wears a flower-patterned blouse and flared jeans.

 Tallulah stops before me and eagerly shakes my hand. "It's so nice to see you again! You remember me, right? I don't believe I introduced myself, but I'm Tallulah."

 I free myself before her powerful grip breaks my wrist. "Yes, I know. Natalie told me." I cringe when I realize what I said. "Oops, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

 "Natalie warned me, so you're okay. You've been through a lot. Anyway"—Tallulah flags the shuttle down when we see it turning into the Employee Parking Lot—"I have a meeting with Temple at 9:30 about beginning to volunteer here myself."

 Is Natalie sure she's not a stalker?

 "You inspired me the other day when I saw you Jitterbug," Tallulah adds while the shuttle stops beside us, and we climb in. "If a ninety-one-year-old can start his life over, so can I." She pauses and doesn't speak again until we're halfway down the pier. "Sorry, I habitually do not think before I speak."

 She definitely talks more than Natalie and I do. I can tell Tallulah's a social bird like my Ted.

 I want to smile but can't, so I hug my notebook and say, "It's okay, Tallulah. I don't think before I speak, too."

 The shuttle stops before the Yorktown, and we climb out, thanking Sebastian.

 Tallulah claps and stands on her tiptoes. "It's so exciting to be back here."

 "Yeah, it is," I agree, yet nervousness slips off my tongue. "I'll take you to the lounge, Tallulah." You're trying to be a better dad for Natalie, Bill, so you might as well look after her friend.

 Once inside Yorktown, Tallulah stops at every station while we travel to the lounge: the Galley, a Battle Dressing Station, and even the Bakery beside the elevator. "Oh, my gosh!" she laughs, pointing at a sign on the wall before we enter the Bakery. "Look at this, Bill!" She pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of a 10,000 chocolate chip cookies recipe, enough for every man aboard Yorktown to have three.

 I recall the cookies Ted and I had on Valley Forge. Because she carried so many men and the bakers worked quickly, egg shells occasionally got into the cookies; however, the bakers said they were extra chocolate chips.

 "Oh, my gosh!" Tallulah repeats (wow, she's fascinated). She steps over the Bakery's knee-knocker and approaches a glass case at its back. A line of ingredients, eggs, sugar, etc., sit behind it like models. "It's all the ingredients for the chocolate chip cookies," Tallulah observes. She rubs her eyes like she's about to cry. "If only Dad were here."

 Her father? My heart sinks briefly. "Did he serve in the Navy?"

 "He did." Tallulah snaps another picture and faces me, slipping her phone in her back pocket. "He was severely injured, though."

 "Oh, I'm sorry." I already almost miss Tallulah's exuberant personality, but unlike me with Ted, she's opening up about her father. "How old was he?"

 "He was a young man when it happened," Tallulah replies. "But that was a long time ago."

 "I'm sorry," I repeat. I lean against the cookie case and open my notebook, removing Ted's picture. "This is my friend, Ted, who died in the war," I explain, pointing at Ted. "This picture was taken after I recovered from a plane crash." I shiver thinking about it. I was the one who should have died, not Ted. That man deserved the Medal of Honor.

 "He's a handsome fellow," Tallulah admits, examining the picture. She lifts her eyebrow like she's trying to understand something. "You, too. I would've gone for it if I were alive then." For a second, she reaches for the picture but pulls back. "Sorry, let's head to the lounge."

 "Yes, let's." I return the picture to my care, not eager to give up Ted yet. Being around Tallulah and getting to know her now is strange, but I can see why Natalie likes her. We both lost somebody we loved to war, so there's a sense of comfort around her. I believe Tallulah feels it, too.

 While we leave the Bakery and head for the Mess Hall, she says, "We should try that 10,000 chocolate chip cookies recipe for Thanksgiving."

 I can't help but laugh. It's an anomaly because I haven't laughed in seventy years.

 Tallulah and I enter the Mess Hall, and Tallulah next approaches an amphibious war boats exhibit. "Oh, that's interesting," she says after reading its overview.

 I sit in one of the Mess Hall's chairs before the coffee machine and revisit what Ted and I drank during our service; the diesel coffee and bug juice were our favorites.

 Tallulah nears and grips the back of the chair across from me. "Is it true, Bill, that the Navy has four meals? Daddy always mentioned something called 'midrats'."

 "Oh, my friend and I loved midrats," I return. "They're known as 'midnight rations'."

 "Really? Wow." Again, Tallulah lifts her eyebrow. "It sounds like your friend and my dad had much in common." She points at my notebook, where I had slipped the picture back between its pages. "Do you think I could look at that picture again?"

 I wince, lose my smile, and lower my voice. "I'd rather keep Ted to myself."

 "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that!" Tallulah covers her mouth. "I guess I'm rushing things again, aren't I?"

 I don't answer and hug my notebook again. I suddenly want to return to the 10,000 chocolate chip cookies room and hide there for the rest of the day, but I can't—not with Tallulah here.

 We carefully climb the ladder out of the Mess Hall and find ourselves in one of Yorktown's berthing compartments, a room of about thirty uncomfortable cots and lockers.

 "Over there," I say, pointing my cane at the familiar hatch across the room. I unhook the chain and let Tallulah through, only to see her anxious.

 "Bill, please," she begs before we enter the lounge. "Natalie and I are trying to figure out something, but we can't do it without you and what you remember about your friend."

 "Like I told you," I grumble, hopefully for the last time, "I'd rather keep Ted to myself."