Her apartment was hot and it smelled like yeast. The bakery downstairs started its day at 3 a.m. She had to be the luckiest officer in Norfolk. She had a sprawling affordable apartment over the bakery, a branch library across the street, and a short walk away, Naval Air Station, Oceana, where there was a plane with her name on it. Life was great.
The phone was ringing. Grace finally let herself acknowledge that the real world was trying to intrude. The temptation to let the answering machine take the message was strong. She reached over to answer it. “Lieutenant Yates.”
“Good morning, Gracie.”
“Bruce.” She tucked the phone between the pillow and her cheek, letting the delight she felt at hearing his voice wash over her. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to this instant communication.”
“It’s nice to be thinking of you and be able to pick up the phone and tell you that. What are your plans for today?”
“Sleep in. Wander downstairs and eat breakfast at my favorite bakery, maybe even watch some Saturday cartoons while I pretend to be industrious about cleaning house.”
“I woke you up.”
She wrapped the phone cord around her finger. “I think I won’t answer that. What about you?”
“I’m already at the office.” Amused. He was definitely amused.
“Something come up?”
“Just the normal rotating weekend shift. The weather is good in the Gulf, Cape Canaveral is quiet for a few days, we’re getting ready for unit reviews next week, and I’m doing paperwork.”
“Sounds like a quiet, boring weekend.” She was glad; she knew it could change on a dime with a phone call, but for now he wasn’t doing something that might kill him.
“The best kind. I’ve already run two miles on the beach and done an hour of PT on the quad with the guys.”
She shouldn’t take the bait but she couldn’t resist. He’d been teasing her about the workout routine she had with its cornerstone of forty-five minutes on a treadmill at the base gym. “What’s your time?”
“Come run with me sometime and find out.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, but she gave him the same answer. “We’ll see.” She wasn’t ready yet to cross to his turf. It would inevitably pick up the pace of their relationship, and she wanted a few more days to get accustomed to the idea.
She heard a phone ring. “I’ve got to go, Grace. Enjoy today. Think of me.”
“I probably will,” she conceded with a laugh as she said good-bye.
SEPTEMBER 8
Bruce ~
I like getting up and finding an e-mail waiting for me. I think electronic greeting cards are cheating a bit, but I have to admit the crashing penguins are hilarious. I’m just sorry Wolf started this. He did give me one of those stuffed penguins as a welcome home gift, a fact I’m sure you know. Let’s see, what else to say . . . after over a week of phone calls and e-mails I’m finding myself struggling to find a topic.
Church was great. The chapel on the
GW
was just below the flight deck, and we’d have to pause the songs when the catapult began launching planes. It’s nice being at church for a service that goes as long as it goes, and people still linger around afterward. There’s a new Bible study meeting on Friday night, and I’m going to host this week. Where people will park will be interesting, but at least I don’t have to worry about what to serve for refreshments. I’ll just stop downstairs on the way home from work.
The first new nugget flights start Monday, getting them accustomed to the squadron formation flying and our briefing focus. We’ve gained two pilots straight out of Pensacola. Was I ever this young and green? I’m breaking in pilots who have landed on a carrier less than a dozen times. Bushman seems seasoned by comparison.
Thunder has gotten the formal promotion; he’ll step up to squadron CO in October. I’m so pleased for him. He’s a great boss. That’s all my news. I’m heading in to work now. I’ll be home late; we’re doing a sunset hop tonight.
Thinking of you, Grace
SEPTEMBER 9
Grace ~
How was the sunset hop? I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than being at angels 15 to watch a sunset over the water. I’ll be away the start of next week. We’ve got a live fire exercise at Fort Bragg. I figure we’ll be gone Monday through Wednesday; it’s a flight up and back.
I’m sorry I missed you. Rather than play phone tag I thought I would drop you a note. I like pen and paper. Emily gave me a scare today; she got into some chicken bones. I keep waiting for her to appear in the doorway, choking, as one of the bones works through her system. I’m enjoying a late night on my new back patio. (The concrete set up nice, despite the fact I had Rich “helping” me.) I’ve been trying to wade through the book you sent me, but it’s a challenge. How can you read murder mysteries? It’s scary; there is no other way around it.
And honey, your movie tastes . . . we’re going to have to find a compromise there.
Castaway
might be a wonderful movie, but the last thing I want to do is sit through a realistic look at a plane crash. Spielberg’s
Saving Private Ryan
was excellent, but it left me walking away uneasy. I’ve worked both plane crashes and wars; I see enough reality in life. When we finally do get a night arranged to see each other, how about something innocuous like the
102 Dalmatians
? I’ve heard it’s pretty good from the PJs who took their kids.
How did choir practice go? How was the Friday night Bible study? Did you have a good turnout? I think of you on Sundays. Our choir has dwindled to seven and you know they are in trouble when they’re asking if I want to join. Take care. I miss you.
Bruce
Twenty-Two
* * *
SEPTEMBER 14
N
ORFOLK
, V
IRGINIA
Grace found her cousin’s car in her spot when she got home Thursday night, so she parked temporarily in her neighbor’s spot. Wolf was in the bakery, chatting with the owner and tossing a hot donut hole between his hands to cool. “Have you tried these, Grace? They’re wonderful.”
“They are personal favorites.” She accepted the one he handed her, and he bought a box of them. “I thought you were meeting Jill tonight,” she commented as she led the way upstairs.
“I’m meeting her in an hour.” Wolf helped himself to a soda once they got inside.
Grace checked her answering machine and couldn’t resist; she also checked her e-mail.
“Anything from the man?”
She smiled at Wolf’s question but was disappointed when she scanned the list of incoming e-mails. “No.”
“We’re heading to Florida tomorrow for a long weekend. You promised me you would move on after the last deployment. So move on. Bruce is a great guy. Come with us.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “I can’t invite myself to Florida.”
“I just invited you. I’m going to be in Pensacola for four weeks of classes; I need to haul my stuff down. Jill wants to see Bruce’s house and she needs a vacation. You can room with her at the hotel. All you have to do is throw jeans and a swimsuit in a suitcase and come along.”
She leaned back against the desk. She was tempted by the idea. Wolf was big on doing things on the spur of the moment, and getting Jill away for a long weekend to see Bruce was a good idea. “I can’t get that kind of time off this quickly.”
“You already said maintenance was pulling your plane to do an engine overhaul. I checked with your CO. You can get a few days.”
She read what he wasn’t saying; for all his spur of the moment actions, Wolf rarely left loose ends around to foil his plans. “What are you thinking?”
“Afternoon flight tomorrow, get in about dinnertime, come back at the crack of dawn Tuesday.”
“I’ll make a few calls, if you tell Bruce I might be coming.”
“Chicken. Pack light if you want me carrying your luggage.”
“Did you tell Jill that?” She laughed at the face he made. “Go. I’ll call you in the morning if I’m able to come.” Seeing Bruce as part of a foursome sounded like a smart plan.
SEPTEMBER 15
P
ENSACOLA
, F
LORIDA
He had guests coming for the weekend; Jill and Wolf were coming down to see the house.
Bruce stirred the spaghetti sauce as he held the phone and listened to it ring.
Grace, where are you?
She wasn’t answering her phone.
Wolf had called from the hotel and Bruce knew it was right at a fifteen-minute drive. Knowing his sister and her speed when on vacation, he allowed twenty-five. He put the water on to boil. He checked the dining room again to make sure he had remembered to set out the grated cheese. Salad and pasta was a simple meal; he’d dress it up with toasted garlic bread and cheesecake for dessert. Wolf hadn’t said, but Bruce had a feeling they were coming down to discuss wedding details.
When he was able to talk to Grace, he would ask for ideas about the wedding gift.
He heard the sound of a car in the drive and turned down the sauce. “Company is here, Emily.” If he started her thinking about moving now, she might make it to the door by the time they came back inside. He paused on the steps when he saw the car. Wolf and Jill were here but they had brought a third. Bruce shoved the towel he held into his back pocket, wishing he had taken a minute to change. He walked down to meet them.
“You weren’t expecting me.”
“No, I wasn’t. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t wishing. Welcome, Grace.”
She shot a look at Wolf, who just leaned against the side of the car and smiled back at her. Bruce got the drift pretty quickly. He’d owe the man one later. For now, he just tried to get his friend out of the hot water he was in. “I’ve been trying to reach you, so it’s a good thing you’re here.” He reached out and caught her hand. “There’s something you have got to see. Jill, dinner’s on the stove. Would you watch it for me?”
“What?” Grace asked, as she got pulled along.
Bruce took her through the house and into the library he had just begun to work on. The new windows were in, the walls were painted, and he had half the built-in shelving complete. The next four boards were varnished and drying. “It’s around here somewhere.” He scanned boxes of items he’d packed to protect and made a guess on where to find it. “Hold this.” He handed her the small can of putty and rag sitting on a box, then tugged it open.
He’d guessed correctly and pulled out the album. “Sit, the carpet is new.”
She laughed but did as he asked, sitting down beside him.
Bruce opened the album to a midpoint and put it in her lap. “I found this and I immediately thought of you.”
“Bruce.” She traced her hands over the patch of STS-71. It was one of the first shuttle flights he’d stood watch for, and one Ben had flown on. She slowly turned the pages. They had been having a preflight party, and the whole crew had come. There were several photos of Ben. “I was deployed off the Balkans when he flew this mission.” She was blinking away tears. Bruce rubbed her back.
“I thought you would like to see them.”
She reached over and hugged him. “Thank you.”
He kissed her forehead. “You’ve got twenty minutes while I put the finishing touches on dinner.”
She caught his hand as he got up. “The album. Why?”
“Grace, you didn’t have a single picture of him out at the apartment. It’s time to dig out the pictures.” He squeezed her hand. “I hope you like spaghetti.”
“Love it.”
“Good.” His dog showed up in the doorway and wandered toward Grace, her tail wagging slowly. “Em, best behavior. We want her to stay awhile.”
Grace laughed and reached over to ruffle the animal’s fur. “She’s still adorable.”
“Growing older by the day. Twenty minutes.”
Grace nodded and he left her in the library with the photo album and his dog.
* * *
“So how are you doing on the house?” Grace asked.
“Renovations are ahead of schedule,” Bruce replied easily, picking up the salad bowls. Grace had insisted on helping him clear the table, and his over-the-head look at Wolf had his friend taking Jill for a walk on the beach after dinner so he could have a few minutes alone with Grace. “I’m finishing the library and going to start on the guest room and bath next.”
“Ambitious.”
He chuckled. “Plenty of time. If I do it wrong, I’ll just rip it out and do it again.”
“Patience, I admire that.”
“When I want to be. And no one is around to hear my comments at the flub-ups.”
“Would you mind if I take a couple pictures from the scrapbook to have copies made? I’ll return them.”
“Take as many as you like.” Bruce poured her a cup of coffee and gestured to the back patio. “Leave the plates in the sink; we’ll get them later.”
“Patience extends to clutter.”
He smiled. “In my own home.” He held the door for her. “The white chair doesn’t try to pinch your back but it likes to wobble side to side.”
She settled into it with care and a soft laugh. “Warning noted.”
“A coming project.” Emily came to join them and Bruce stroked her head. “I’m glad you came, Grace.”
She slouched to move her back farther from the offending split in the metal, rested her neck against the back to watch the stars, and crossed her ankles. “You know why nights like this are gifts?”