Jill pushed open the door to Seaman Jones’s apartment with her left foot, struggling not to drop any of the sacks she carried. Her little finger was turning numb as the plastic bag handle cut off circulation. She especially didn’t want to tip the carryout containers of food. She made it to the kitchen and carefully lowered the sacks. “How’s the wiring coming on the new speakers?”
“I’ve almost got it figured out,” Wolf called from the living room. She walked through to see. He had the stereo cabinet pulled out into the room. Wolf turned on the radio to test it out. “Were you able to find a fifteen-foot cord?”
“Twelve feet was as long as they had.”
“It’ll do. I wish Detective Reese would find the guy who did this. I’d like to have a few words with him. He ripped apart the back of the unit when he stole the CD player.”
“Six weeks without a burglary. He’s moved on,” Jill replied, relieved at that fact. Scott was still convinced he would eventually catch up with the guy, Wolf was still growling about the fact she hadn’t told him what was going on, and Bruce—her brother hadn’t been pleased with her. She’d learn. Next time she would handle the situation differently and tell them what was happening stateside.
Jill settled on the couch, seeking a minute with her feet up before she started putting away items she had carried in. She was drowning with welcome home preparations for her clients. Most of it was time sensitive, from groceries to getting them an extra hundred dollars in cash so they could easily get out that first weekend home without worrying about where their ATM card was and what their finances looked like. She was going to make it, maybe, if nothing else went wrong.
“Thanks for helping me out.” The last replacement items for Seaman Jones had been delivered yesterday, and she’d been struggling to find time to get them unpacked.
“I wish you’d asked me days ago.”
She was feeling guilty enough about the workload as it was; dragging him into it had been admitting defeat. “It’s my business; I’m supposed to be able to handle it.” Wolf pivoted to look at her and she sighed. “Sorry, I’m still working on the partnership implications of wearing your ring.”
“Obviously. You’re going to have to reconsider letting me be a business partner. I’m going to meddle; you might as well make it official.”
“I’d rather figure out how to shove the business back into a reasonable box so it doesn’t keep interrupting the time we have to spend together. It’s a business, not the most important thing in my life.” He’d shown up at her place this morning with a sack of muffins, coffee, wearing a T-shirt that said
Jill’s My Sweetheart
. She would have loved the freedom to follow up on his hug with an offer to spend the day at the beach. Instead, she’d been forced to suggest she needed to eat in the car on the way to the office. She was tired of this job. Jill reached for the binder that contained her master plan, a sheet for every client, to see what stops were next on her list for the day.
“The job is cyclical in its demands; quit fighting it. You’ve got this organized. Do I smell lunch?”
“I brought Chinese. I’m organized enough to see I’m behind schedule. Would it be okay if I leave you here and go on to Craig’s?”
“You should have asked Bruce if you could keep Emily a few more weeks. I don’t like you going to clients’ homes alone.”
“I’m carrying in grocery sacks to stock refrigerators. Emily would go nuts. And I promise, I’m careful. There are fourteen more stops to make today. What about if I make the three near here and come back for you in an hour?”
Wolf shifted back toward the stereo cabinet. “I’ll have the VCR subdued by then.”
“Better you than me.”
“Eat lunch first or take it with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
He laughed and tossed her his wallet. “Stop and get us a movie for tonight? When we stop for the day, you’ll have a reason to put your feet up for more than a couple minutes.”
It was the best offer she’d had all day. “Deal.”
AUGUST 26
USS
GEORGE WASHINGTON
(CVN 73)
O
FF THE
C
OAST
OF
V
IRGINIA
Grace wrapped the gift she had bought Jill in Rome inside her blue cotton T-shirt and added it to her duffel bag. She’d found the small painting at a gallery and fallen in love with it. She had to pack her flight gear, her uniforms, and her casual clothes brought for liberty. Her bunk was covered with piles. She’d already emptied her locker and her cubbyhole in the squadron ready room.
Grace leaned against the bunk and offered a photo to Heather. Her friend was stretched out reading the latest issue of the shipboard newspaper. “Do you remember when we took this one?” It had been taken with one of the Polaroid cameras that floated around the ship.
Her friend took it and chuckled. “My hair coloring had not yet completely faded to return me to a brunette. Probably six weeks out.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Grace handed Heather another one taken last night at their stateroom version of a good-bye party. “Did you see this one?”
“It’s amazing what six months does.”
“I’m now showing gray hair,” Grace noted, depressed by the sight. “Bruce is going to notice.”
“He’s a smart guy; he won’t comment. Wear your cover.”
Grace hadn’t worn her Navy hat since she’d been deployed. “I think I’ll have to. Are you standing the rails for the homecoming?” A large contingent of sailors were part of the official homecoming detail.
“Yes. Want to join me?”
“If I get packed, I’ll come up.” Grace hadn’t been assigned but she’d enjoy it. Sailors in dress uniform would man the rails of the aircraft carrier, standing at parade rest, as the
GW
entered port and was guided by tugs against Pier 12. When the loudspeaker on the flight deck called attention on deck, over a thousand men and women would answer with a crisp hand salute.
The mood on the ship had done a 180 in the last few weeks. Smiles were back, cheerful good humor, a smartness to steps. They were ready to get home. Talk around the mess table had turned to family and friends. Bruce was right, the military taught you to value relationships.
Grace turned back to her packing. She folded the pillowcase that had been her one special comfort from home. Books, music tapes, flight schedules, training bulletins—she found niches for them. She looked at the letters carefully arranged on the bunk by date. Bruce had sent her fourteen letters during the course of the deployment. Jill had sent her thirty-six; Wolf had sent nine along with half a dozen boxes. She didn’t want to know how many she had written—whatever the number, there had not been enough of them. After some thought, Grace put the letters in her flight bag. They were the items she would treasure the most from this deployment.
She picked up the notebook she had made her temporary diary for this trip. In the first few pages were a jotted list of Scripture passages as she kept track of highlights from her studies. She smiled as she traced her finger over the list. God was gracious. He loved her. And life was good. It wasn’t a bad set of facts to go home with. Bruce said test and see how well the pieces could fit together; she was ready to find out.
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA
Norfolk was celebrating the arrival of a carrier group. Bruce appreciated that fact as he took out his wallet for the third time in an hour. It was a military town, and every business was having a homecoming special of one kind or another. Movie theaters, restaurants, clothing stores—everyone hoped to get those fifteen thousand sailors back from six months at sea to spend money with them by providing a special sale. Bruce paid the florist and carefully took the wrapped flowers.
The first of the twenty-six ships in the
George Washington
carrier group had arrived yesterday. Bruce bought a newspaper on the way back to the car so he could check the summary for arrival times and locations. Roughly seven thousand sailors, marines, and air wing personnel were coming home today. The aircraft carrier USS
George Washington
was scheduled to pull into Pier 12, Naval Station Norfolk, at 1000. Knowing the Navy, it would be precisely on time.
Bruce thought about Grace’s last letter. She sounded nervous. He smiled. Nervous was good. Anticipation was a wonderful thing. He was about to get a chance to establish a new first impression with her. How this relationship translated to face-to-face would establish the tone for the next months. He didn’t want to rush her, but he definitely planned to seize the moment. He had settled on jeans and a black T-shirt, trying to keep it low-key. He wanted her to settle into a relaxed pace of stateside life, wanted to help minimize the inevitable disorientation that came with the transition. Showing up in Air Force blues would just remind her of a hurdle to overcome.
Bruce followed the map Jill had given him and parked in Open Parking Lot QP-6. He passed massive tents set up along the parking lot and large signs directing people with military precision to the New Mother’s Tent, Air Wing Tent, Medical, Children’s Tent, Hospitality Tent. The Navy was doing what it could to take care of the thousands coming to meet the ships. He crossed the street to join hundreds of others walking down to Pier 12.
The pier was huge, allowing two aircraft carriers to dock, one on either side. Jill had told him she’d be over near the Air Wing tent. He finally spotted her at the refreshments table and made his way to join her. She was putting out giant-size cookies. He helped himself to a chocolate chip one. “Hi.”
“Are those flowers for me or Grace?”
He smiled at her.
“I thought so. She’ll love them. Did you see Wolf? He was getting me the balloons.”
“He’s coming with them. He’s got a long line of kids tailing him. Need help?”
“I think we’re okay. As long as the ship doesn’t arrive early.”
“Jill, where do you want these?” Terri called, holding up blue platters.
Bruce wisely got out of his sister’s way. She was busy now; she’d be swamped once clients began to arrive.
Where did he want to wait? Wolf had warned him that Grace would take her time leaving the ship, not wanting to get caught in that initial press of several thousand people coming down the ramps. After walking around the area to consider options, Bruce took up station at the T of the pier, a distance away from where the sailors would disembark, but where he would be able to watch the crowd. He could already see the
George Washington
in the distance.
USS
GEORGE WASHINGTON
(CVN 73)
N
ORFOLK
, V
IRGINIA
Grace headed up to the flight deck, a huge open expanse now that the seventy-five planes were absent. They had returned to stateside bases while the carrier was still a hundred miles out to sea. A few planes would be flying today, proudly showing the squadron colors during the arrival ceremonies.
Grace made her way to the LSO platform at the ship’s stern where Heather had said she would be. The pier was already in sight and growing ever larger even as she stood stories above it on the back of the ship. There was nothing simple about a homecoming. Jill would be here. Wolf. Was Bruce here?
She searched the gathering crowds, knowing it was unlikely that she would locate him but feeling the pull to try. What was she going to say when she saw him? She had been thinking about it for days, and she still didn’t know.
The flight deck loudspeaker called attention on deck, and the sailors’ salute was matched by the striking of the band playing on the pier. A roar of jets had her looking up. Tomcats, followed by Prowlers and Hornets. They were greeting the returning ship with crisp formations and just a bit of showing off. She watched them with a smile, wishing she were one of those lucky few pilots.
* * *
“See her?” Bruce asked. Wolf had solved the problem of trying to see over the crowds by stepping up on the concrete barrier. All around them there were reunions going on, and in the confusion finding Grace was proving to be a challenge. She would be heading in this direction. If they somehow missed each other, the meeting point was at the Air Wing tent.
“We should have told her to wear something other than white,” Wolf commented.
Bruce looked over toward the crowd of people flowing into the Air Wing tent. Jill was somewhere in the middle of that commotion near the red balloons, greeting clients.
A hand touched his shoulder and Bruce felt a jolt ripple through his system. “Hi.”
Wolf jumped off of the concrete barrier. “Did you have to do that, Gracie?” She’d come up behind them. Wolf picked her up and swung her in a circle. “Welcome home.” She buried her head against his shoulder and hugged him back, laughing.
Grace lifted her head and smiled over Wolf’s shoulder at him. “Hi, Bruce.”
She looked good. Very good. He’d forgotten how blue her eyes were, how much they reflected her laughter. He smiled back. “Hi, Gracie.”
She patted her cousin’s back. “You can let me down now, Wolf.” Her cousin reluctantly did so.
“My welcome home.” Bruce offered her the flowers he held.
“I’m going to have to come home more often. Wow.” He’d chosen the most fragrant blossoms he could find and it had been worth it. For that brief moment when she lifted the blooms to breathe deeply, she seemed totally and completely relaxed. She looked up and caught his gaze. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Grace. It’s wonderful to see you.”
She tilted her head, considering him. “You look different than my last memory of you.”
Wolf strangled a cough.
Bruce punched his arm.
“I think it’s the black eye. Yep, I think that’s it.”
“He went left when he should have gone right,” Wolf explained.