Sometimes I wonder about Lee. It’s not
that he doesn’t have success with the ladies. But why he’s put up with Lola Hale off and on and off and on again
and again is anyone’s guess.
Oh, she’s nice enough to me, to Nelson,
to the staff, etc. And she looks good too. But she’s become a bit of a nag toward him. I can understand her getting
upset when their plans or rather when her plans go astray, but cheech, he’s
a sub commander and a secret agent,
not to mention being a SEAL and God knows what else he is with the Navy, so what
does she expect? He doesn’t have a 8-5 job! He’s 24/7 365 days a year.
We all are, at least those of us assigned to Seaview.
Lee’s actually started to look haggard, and contrary to what the crew thinks, it’s not all due to all of the
time he must be spending in her bed (or his) when he’s on leave. And it’s not as if they’re really exclusive,
though she sure has begun to act like it. Maybe he is considering taking their relationship to the next level. But I sure don’t like the idea. He’s already
on a short enough leash with NIMR and the Navy. He doesn’t need another tied to her!
Speak of the devil, she came by today, upset
that he was late for their picnic lunch. When I told her Lee was on the boat ‘where a good Captain should be spending
his time’, I thought she was going to fling the picnic basket at me. Instead, she dumped the basket on my desk and told me I could have it then and that
if this was the way he was going to treat her, then he’d better not plan on La Perla tonight (I haven’t heard
about that flick, I wonder if it’s a foreign film, though I’d prefer a western.)
Well, I was torn. Should I upset him even
further from her wrath or give her time to cool off. Should I enjoy the repast
of fried chicken, cole slaw and what looked like homemade brownies or take the
picnic basket down to the boat?
Lee joined me in my office, brownie crumbs on my chin and fried chicken bones on my desk, he paled and leaned on my desk for
“Oh gawd, I’ve done it again haven’t
I?” he moaned.
“Looks like it,” I belched. “You
know, that fried chicken was really good. Old Hale family recipe?”
“KFC. That’s what she’d
planned on anyway.”
“Anything else I should be aware of?”
he gave me his ‘command’ glare. Too bad he was so rumpled and smelly from playing with his toy boat’s innards
that it lost it’s impact.
“Oh, you mean this?” I held up
the last brownie.
“You should have called me and told
me she was here,” he pouted.
“I was trying to protect you. She’d
have flung the basket at you and you still have stiches from that soufflé dish.’”
was an accident.”
“Yeah sure…besides, bro,”
I smirked, “If you’d really wanted to keep your lunch date you wouldn’t have forgotten, would you. You sir,
are the epitome of the hen pecked husband, without being one officially, that is.”
he said after a moment, “what am I going to do? I think I love her…but she…well…damn.”
“Here,” I handed him the brownie.
“I think you need this more than me.”
“No, you go ahead.”
“Oh yeah, there is something else. She
said you could forget about La Perla. I’ll watch it with you if you like.”
He gave me a strange look then said, “It’s
not a movie…you sure she said La Perla?”
“Well that’s what it sounded like…hey,
where’ you going?”
“Never mind, ”he flashed me a
grin and suddenly looked years younger, almost like a mischievous schoolboy up
to no good.
I finished my brownie, he hurried to his office, collected his car keys and in
minutes departed, yelling on the way out that he didn’t want to be disturbed
for the rest of the weekend, come hell fire or the President, which ever came first.
Well, that could mean only one thing.
Should I have called him back to tell him he was still all sweaty and stained
and in no condition for any kind of reconciliation with his ball and chain?