The Ocean Between Us (33 page)

Grace felt like a bride on her wedding day. No, this was worse. At least a bride could look forward to a happy ending. Grace’s expectations, her hopes and fears, were much more complicated than that. There were some similarities, though—the agony of waiting, the excited crowds, the cameras, the red carpet. Only, this carpet led to a restricted airfield rather than an altar.

The kids stayed close to her as they waited in the viewing area, demarcated by heavy ropes. Outside the airfield, news vans disgorged crews and equipment, and reporters jockeyed for position along the chain-link fence. Grace knew that whatever happened on the tarmac out there would be preserved on film and broadcast worldwide.

She always wondered what she would do in this situation, how she would ever show her gratitude for the miracle of her husband’s survival. She doubted she’d look as dignified and calm as the wives in movies or staged events. Steve’s survival overwhelmed her with joy, and she meant to show it.

In her pocket, she had his wedding band. He always left it behind when he went on deployment. She always made a small
ceremony of giving him back his ring each time he came home. The night following his return was always a honeymoon.

She had no idea what was in store for them tonight.

An escort told them apologetically that the transport wasn’t expected for another hour. He motioned them into a waiting area designated for families only. A long table was set up with fruit punch and an enormous cake decorated with squadron insignia. It was quieter here, and Grace tried to force herself to relax and be patient. One of the greatest lessons the Navy had taught her was that big events and ceremonies took time.

The kids looked wonderful, carefully groomed and dressed up. It was the first time she’d seen Emma in a skirt in months. Her Emma, who used to be the fashionista of the family, had abandoned pretty clothes just as Grace rediscovered them. Brian couldn’t stand still; he walked back and forth, pausing to look out the window, and then resuming his pacing. Katie had used a small gold safety pin to repair her glasses this morning. She held a bouquet of yellow roses and wore a smile that outshone the sun.

Watching her, Grace was infected by that smile. Her youngest child had survived her first year of high school and was blossoming fast. Her body was rounding out and her face had taken on that ineffable air of mystery that surrounded teenage girls. Katie was such a jumble of contradictions these days. She’d spend hours writing deep, “angsty” poetry in her journal, and then, every once in a great while, she’d take out her Barbies. Grace touched Katie’s shining hair. “Any time now.”

“Thank God.” She tore her gaze from the runway and turned to Grace. “This isn’t like other homecomings, is it?”

“Well, no. Usually your dad comes home with the ship, or at least with his squadron.”

“I don’t mean that.”

Grace knew that, of course. She also knew she was walking a thin line. She wanted this day to be a celebration of Steve’s survival and homecoming, his heroism and pride. At the same time, she didn’t want to mislead the kids into thinking life would go on
exactly the same as it had before. “Today is your dad’s day,” she said. “He’s the miracle man.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, we sleep in.”

“Mom—”

“Whoa,” said Brian in a low voice, and they all turned to look.

Lauren had arrived, looking radiant in a cherry-colored suit. Already she had the scrubbed, attentive look of a Navy wife, but that wasn’t what had captured Brian’s notice. It was the woman next to her.

“Whoa is right,” whispered Katie.

They all knew who it was; they’d been expecting this. But Grace hadn’t expected her to look exactly like Kim Basinger. She caught herself holding her breath as Lauren and the woman worked their way toward them, passing the families of the Prowler crew.

“Cissy Lamont,” said Kim Basinger. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

She spoke in a delicious, honeyed drawl. She was perfectly dressed in a Chanel suit, Prada pumps and a flawless manicure.

Bravely, Grace stuck out her hand to the gorgeous blonde. “I’m Grace. And these are my children, Emma, Katie and Brian.”

Cissy Lamont’s hand trembled in Grace’s. “My goodness,” Cissy said. “It’s an honor to meet you all.”

Grace felt like Quasimodo, towering over Steve’s movie-star-gorgeous first wife. Cissy was nothing like the trashy, immature woman Grace had conjured in her mind. Grace had pictured Anna Nicole Smith dressed in tight, overpriced clothes, pretending to belong to the country club set. Instead, Cissy was lovely, stylish and mourning her lost husband, a character straight out of a Danielle Steel novel. And worst of all, she laid claim to a part of Steve that Grace could never have. Cissy was his first love. She had known him in the wild flush of youthful passion. He must have been reckless then, and filled with a sense of possibility and excitement.

By the time Grace had met him, he was already an officer and
a pilot, a man with duties to perform. She had no doubt that he was a better man than the boy Cissy had married, but Grace couldn’t help wishing she’d known that boy, too.

“I’m sorry we’re meeting under such terrible circumstances,” Cissy said. “But I’m happy for us all that Josh and Stephen are coming home in one piece.”

Stephen. No one called him Stephen.

In the awkward silence that followed, Cissy nervously snapped and unsnapped the clasp of her handbag. She appeared calm, but a delicate blood vessel in her temple leaped visibly. “I’m sure you all think what I did was awful,” she said.

Lauren put a hand on her arm. “Cissy—”

“No, I should say this. Who knows when I’ll get another chance?”

Brian shuffled his feet and looked longingly through the glass at the open field outside. Grace looked right along with him.

“I’m not making excuses for myself,” Cissy said. “But I didn’t think things through before heading off to a wedding chapel. No one explained the realities of Navy life to me, and then one day the man I’d just married was gone for good. I couldn’t see him or speak to him or touch him. It felt like someone had died.” She sent a quick glance at Lauren. “I had no family, no support system at all, just a group of other Navy wives who were as young and as scared as I was.”

“So you up and left,” Katie said bluntly.

Cissy nodded. “I cried for weeks. But, right or wrong, I truly believed that never contacting your father again, never telling him about Josh, was the kindest thing to do. I worried that if he knew there was a child, he’d feel torn. I couldn’t bring myself to torture him like that.”

Grace was shocked to feel a pulse of sympathy for Cissy. And perhaps a small, grudging respect. Cissy had demanded more for herself than a half-time husband. She’d gotten out as soon as she discovered the consuming nature of Steve’s career. Ah, but look what she’d missed, Grace thought.

“I’m not without my regrets,” Cissy admitted. “Even when
Grant was alive, I sometimes caught myself wondering about what I’d tossed away so long ago, what my life would have been like if I’d stayed the course.” She looked Grace in the eye. “After meeting you, I don’t feel those regrets anymore. Your family is wonderful. I can tell that already. Things were meant to happen this way.” She rummaged in her handbag and took out a copy of
Newsweek
. “The new issue just came out. I bought every copy I could find at the airport,” she said.

“We haven’t seen it yet,” Emma said, gaping at the cover.

The reporter, a woman with a flat, East Coast accent, had phoned Grace for comments, but she had not returned her call. It seemed a little surreal, though, seeing her husband’s face on the cover of a national magazine. It was one of those shots that revealed much. Taken just hours after he’d been plucked from the ocean, it showed a man nearly flattened by the effects of trauma, fatigue and triumph. A small inset showed the Prowler crew and Rivera, looking so young that the sight brought tears to Grace’s eyes. The headline read Heroics: All In A Day’s Work.

While the kids gathered around Cissy, Grace gave Lauren’s hand a squeeze. Her fingers were ice-cold. She seemed fragile, as though she were the survivor of an accident, too. This was her first experience of having a loved one at sea. The difficulty of her ordeal was written in the lines of strain on her brow and around her mouth. “Are you all right?”

“I’m holding up. This is so hard, Grace. I don’t know how you’ve been able to do it all these years.”

“When you see Josh again, you’ll know.”

A protocol officer came to say the plane would be landing soon, and the buzz of excitement heightened. The homecoming would be highly ritualized, and everyone had a part to play. From the Secretary of the Navy, who would emerge from a secure limo when the transport plane touched down, to the color guard and brass band, this would be a formal hero’s welcome for a man who had saved an aircraft carrier from blowing up.

The AC-2 Greyhound appeared in the sky, and everyone
rushed forward. There was a prescribed order for the families to file out in, and Grace was at the lead with her children. She could feel the energy of anticipation shimmering through the lobby. A sailor stood at the door, arms folded behind his back as he awaited the order to proceed.

Grace waited, too. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass double door. She was wearing a navy-blue suit she hadn’t been able to get into in years. Now it fit her perfectly, and last night Allison had stopped by to give her a Hermès scarf because, as Allison pointed out, “You’re going to be on national TV, after all.”

Like the best of Navy wives, Allison was good in a crisis. She’d been there for the wives of the Sparhawks squadron since the mishap occurred. “And how is Emma these days?” Allison had asked.

“She’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. We were all horrified by the mishap, but now that Steve’s coming home, we’re fine.”

“I’m…glad she’s all right.”

Fortunately, Emma hadn’t been around. It would have been awkward for her to see her ex-boyfriend’s mother.

The plane taxied to the terminal and stopped. A truck with a staircase coupled with the hatch. Sailors rushed forward with the carpet and velvet ropes.

Grace walked through the door with the children as the hatch popped. An aide stepped out and came to attention. And then there was Steve, blinking at the sun, tall and straight as an oak tree. His uniform hung looser on him, and his arm was in a sling. Even so, to Grace he looked the same as he had on the day they married, and she vowed to love him forever.

She and the kids were told to wait until instructed to proceed.

Steve’s searching gaze found her, and both of them froze for a moment, locked up with terror.

Grace didn’t wait for instructions. She broke free and rushed to the plane, meeting him in a near collision as his foot touched the ground. His good arm went around her, and they kissed with
a fierce gratitude that made them oblivious to the commotion around them. “You’re home,” she whispered, kissing his face. “Thank God you’re home….” He was thin and his skin felt hot, and a medicinal smell clung to him. But he was home safe at last, and she wanted to melt right into him, or to absorb him into her, to turn the two of them into one unbreakable whole.

She stepped away in time for Katie to go flying into his embrace, and then Brian and Emma followed, laughing and crying, shouting over the noise of the airfield. She watched the children hugging him as though they’d never let go, and wondered how she ever could have put all of this at risk.

Cameras recorded the homecoming. Grace suspected the photo of Steve, surrounded by his jubilant children, would be one of the defining images of the day. He smiled at her over Brian’s shoulder, and then he did a double take. How different she must look to him. Like a stranger.

“Sir,” an aide said, “we need you over here.”

Steve reluctantly disengaged himself from the children and headed for the official receiving line, the Secretary of the Navy at its head. The Prowler crew came next. Steve spoke briefly to the Secretary of the Navy, but Grace couldn’t hear the words they exchanged.

She fingered the wedding band in her pocket, then looked at his arm in the sling. She’d never felt prouder of her husband, yet a curious distance still hung between them. She reminded herself that today was about Steve. This was a day of joy and celebration.

He scanned the crowd, barely able to sit still. Then she saw him sit up straighter. He’d spotted Cissy.

The two of them locked eyes across the crowd. His face didn’t change when she put her hand to her heart. How beautiful she looked, how filled with regrets. Cissy was at a crossroads, a widow still young and attractive enough to have a new life, a woman with a past who made no secret of her regrets and who was clearly filled with curiosity about her first, lost love.

The connection was severed as Joshua Lamont greeted his mother with a hug. Then he grabbed Lauren, bending her
backward over his arm for a prolonged and passionate kiss. Cameras went off everywhere and a collective sigh rose from the crowd. When Lauren stepped away, she looked dazed and weepy.

At the podium, the Secretary of the Navy briefly welcomed everyone, and brought Steve and the Prowler crew to answer questions from the press. Steve spoke the simple truth: He didn’t consider himself a hero. He was a Naval officer, and his ordeal was all in a day’s work. Good training and a positive attitude had kept despair at bay. “Dying simply wasn’t an option,” he said in response to someone’s question. He flashed a grin as he gestured at Grace and the kids. “Look what I had waiting for me at home.”

“So this is our new house, Dad,” Katie said excitedly. “What do you think?”

Steve felt like a tourist at a new destination. He recognized the house and gardens from the flyer Grace had shown him, the flyer he’d thrust aside, telling her it was a bad idea. Seeing the real thing was strange.

“It’s great,” he said as Brian parked in front of a two-car garage.

“It is great,” Katie sang. “You can see eagles and ferries and mountains. The best view is from yours and Mom’s room.”

Poor kid. Clearly she felt compelled to fill any possible silence with chatter. He wanted to tell her to slow down, let him take it all in. He got out of the car and headed up the walk.

Grace took his good hand, her touch oddly tentative. His head was still spinning from finding her so different. She was not the Grace he had left behind. He had always loved the way Grace looked, but he realized now that it was because he loved her. Her new way of dressing and doing her hair made her beauty apparent to anyone.

He wanted to grab her and hold her next to his heart, right here and now. Still, he waited. There was a lot going on inside her—inside him, too, for that matter—that would have to wait
until all the hoopla of his arrival subsided and they could find some time alone. He had a million things to say to her and no idea where to start.

Emma went to unlock the door. Of the three kids, she had changed the most, which surprised him. She was always his sunny, constant Emma. She seemed more somber now, more mature. That was reflected in the haircut, he supposed. She was on the brink of going out into the world to find her life. Maybe that was it. Everything was starting to feel very real to her.

She opened the front door and a large dog bounded out. Daisy. She approached him, head down, tail stiff, and made a great show of checking him out. When he reached down to pat her on the head, she snuffled and sidled close, her tail swishing. He used to think a family pet was a bad idea, too. He’d never had a dog.

“She’s wonderful,” Grace said. “I can’t imagine being without her.” She darted a glance at Steve. “Since the day I adopted her, she’s slept on a dog bed in the bedroom. She snores, but it doesn’t bother me. At least I don’t toss and turn in bed so much.” She flushed and looked away.

He squeezed her hand. “Then she won’t bother me, either.”

“Watch this, Dad, watch.” Katie ran Daisy through a series of tricks—sit, heel, speak. “She’s the smartest dog ever.”

“Sure she is.” His arm hurt like it was still on fire, but he kept smiling.

“Let’s go inside,” said Grace.

He stepped over the threshold, and it hit him. Grace had built a world for herself while he was away. He’d said no house, no pets, no career. And here she had all three.

On the front hall table, he noticed a legal-size envelope with the return address of a law firm. He wanted to ask her about it, but the rest of the day was filled with official functions that kept them busy, and kept them apart.

After dinner the kids made themselves scarce earlier than usual, Grace noticed. The girls had MTV turned up loud, and Brian was
on the computer, absorbed in some incomprehensible quest game. Grace felt wedding-night nervous as she took Steve’s hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”

He offered her a slow smile, weary but ripe with meaning. “Yeah.”

She led the way, her stomach churning. “What do you think?”

“It’s got a bed. It’s got you. That’s all I need.” He stripped off his tie one-handed, then kissed her, and a sweet rush of desire swept through her. She let go of the things that were pressing at them, and for a few moments simply reveled in his embrace and in the contours of his body against hers.

The careening emotions of a busy day made her feel vulnerable. She pulled back and looked up at him. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” she whispered. “When you were missing, I asked for a miracle. And I got it.”

“Grace—”

“Steve—”

They laughed at the awkward interruption, but the fact was, she felt nervous, and she could tell he felt so, too. They had stood at the brink of falling apart. Now they had to find their way back to each other.

She kept thinking about the miracle she had begged for, bargained for. In exchange for his survival, she’d vowed to change back into her former self. Would she? Could she?

“You first,” she said.

“Honey, I asked for a miracle, too. I had to come back to you. The docs couldn’t understand how I survived so long in the water, but it’s no mystery to me.”

He swayed against her, and she slid her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder to hide her alarm.

“You need to lie down.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He didn’t even bother with the tough-guy routine she’d expected. She helped him to the bed and gently undid the buttons of his shirt.

“Now, that’s a move in the right direction,” he murmured.

She touched his cheek, then drew back her hand. “You’re burning up.”

“It’s from the arm. I’m not contagious, Gracie, I swear.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. I’m calling the doctor.”

“Don’t.” He intercepted her hand as she reached for the phone. “I missed a dose of my antibiotics,” he said. “That’s all.”

She hurried to the bathroom for a glass of water and his bag of toiletries. “I still want to call the doctor.”

“Come on, Grace. I’m not spending tonight in the hospital.”

She found several brown plastic vials of pills. “You have a whole pharmacy in here.” Chills ran over her skin. “You’re in bad shape. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just give me a hand with these pills.”

She made him take his antibiotics and anti-inflammatories, followed by a powerful painkiller. “Does that bandage need changing?”

“Don’t worry about it, Grace.”

She touched his cheek. “You don’t have to be a tough guy around me.”

“What, you’re tough enough for both of us?” His eyes took on a glazed quality. The meds were kicking in fast.

“I always have been.” She helped him remove his shirt. Layers of high-tech bandaging concealed his arm, but the sight of it made her wince. She went to his bag to find a pair of pajama bottoms and came across a familiar typed form. “Travel documents?” she said.

“I have to go to Washington.” He paused, shut his eyes, then opened them again. “Tomorrow, after I go see Mrs. Rivera. I tried to get them to postpone it, but there’s no way. After the debriefing, I’m supposed to meet the president, Grace. Imagine that.”

She felt light-headed with pride in him, and yet, at the same time, a too-familiar sinking feeling weighed her down. “You’ve always been my hero,” she said, battling tears as she handed him his pajamas. “Now you’re everyone’s.”

He touched her hand. “I hate that I’m leaving so soon.”

Love and pride collided painfully inside her. It was selfish to want him all to herself, but how could she keep him from being the man he was? “Don’t worry. It’s not every day you get to meet the president.”

He settled back against the pillows. His unfocused smile told her the painkiller was taking effect. Grace stroked his cheek as she watched him. Though she’d known him for two decades, she had the sense that she had only just begun to understand him. And there was another person she was just beginning to understand—herself.

“I believe this belongs to you,” she said, and took his wedding band from her jacket pocket.

“I believe you’re right.” He couldn’t seem to lift his left hand. The tips of his fingers peeked out, swollen and discolored. “I’ll wear it on the other hand for now.”

She slipped it on the ring finger of his right hand. “That’ll do.”

He held his hand up, studying the ring. “So we’re all right.”

It wasn’t a question. She was sort of relieved about that, because she wasn’t sure she knew the answer. She stretched out beside him, praying the fever would subside.

“I should be making love to you,” he mumbled.

“Hush,” she whispered, stroking his cheek. “You are.”

The next day, Steve had an official call to make, and Grace went with him. Their footsteps rang on the polished tile floor of the Naval hospital. They didn’t talk, and Steve sensed her sadness as they approached the lounge where Patricia Rivera would be waiting. In his gloved hands, he carried a burden a thousand times heavier than its actual weight. It was a zippered bag containing Rivera’s most treasured possessions—a pocket-size photo album with pictures of his wife, a sterling silver cross, his wallet, a logbook of his scribbled thoughts about everything, including lists of baby names and what Rivera expected of himself as a father.

The lounge was filled with people by the time Steve and Grace arrived. Most were probably relatives. When they spotted Steve,
they fell quiet and moved aside. A small, pretty woman sat on a green Naugahyde sofa. She wore a plain cotton gown and slippers, and a hospital bracelet around her wrist.

Steve offered a crisp salute. “Ma’am, I’m Captain Steve Bennett.”

“I know.” Patricia said. “You tried to save my husband. I’m grateful for that.”

“I’m so sorry I failed, ma’am,” he said. “Airman Rivera was among the finest sailors I was ever privileged to know. He performed his duties with skill, honor and courage.” Steve swallowed, moved by the sadness in her eyes. He’d brought Rivera’s effects, he’d said his piece, but he wanted—please God, somehow—to leave her with more.

“Ma’am,” he said, “I just want you to know how proud Michael was of you. He’d just received word that the baby’s a boy, and he was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling.”

She stared up at him, and for a second Steve thought he’d said the wrong thing, that he’d offended her somehow. But then she smiled, a deep serenity radiating from her grief. A single tear tracked down her cheek.

“I didn’t know if he ever got that message,” she said.

“He did, I promise you that, ma’am. And he was on top of the world.” Steve held out the package. “These are some of his belongings,” he said. “The contents of his locker will be sent later.”

“Thank you.” For the first time, she made an attempt to smile. “Would you like to see my little boy?”

“Ma’am, I’d be honored.”

A nurse wheeled in a clear plastic bassinet. The relatives closed in, clucking like hens. The infant was swaddled in a blue blanket and wore a hand-knit cap with a Stars and Stripes design. Michael Eduardo Rivera had come into the world after the man who had fathered him was gone. The sight of the little dark-haired bundle stabbed Steve in a vulnerable spot. The Riveras were living every Navy man’s worst nightmare.

Steve watched Grace with Mrs. Rivera. Their quiet tears tore at his heart. It would be said that Rivera paid the ultimate price
in the service of his country. No one would say that of Rivera’s wife and child, though. But it was true of them as well.

Steve’s thoughts were splitting him in two. He’d already had to decline a twenty-day leave—there was no time for that. In a month, there would be a change of command.

It was the next step; the path was crystal clear to him. He had built his world around setting ambitious goals and fulfilling them. He had an obligation to the men and women who served under him, and this would be the biggest shot of his career.

But now the Navy’s expectations were running up against the urges of the heart and the needs of the people who mattered most. Steve had nearly died out there. You didn’t walk away from something like that unscathed.

Josh’s girlfriend, Lauren, arrived with Cissy. Steve looked at his ex-wife and felt a dull, hollow sense of failure. When she looked back at him, her smile wobbled and she quickly turned away. That was Cissy for you, he figured. She hadn’t changed.

More crying, more cooing over the baby ensued. Surrounded by the women, Patricia seemed to grow a little stronger. The baby had the opposite effect on Lauren, though. She stared at the little thing and turned away to hide the slow slide of tears on her cheeks.

Grace hugged Patricia one more time. “We have to go. Steve’s leaving for D.C. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Thank God, thought Steve. Sleeping newborns and weeping women were tough company. As he and Grace headed for the car, he felt her watching him. “How’d I do?” he asked her.

“With Patricia? Fine.” Her eyes softened a little. “That was particularly kind of you to let her know Michael got message about the baby.”

“It was true. He was a good man.” As they crossed the parking lot, he studied her, trying to figure out what was on her mind.

“What?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re upset about something,” he ventured.

She tilted her chin up. “I’m not. But…I can’t help but wonder what it’s like for you to see Cissy again.”

“It’s weird.”

“Just weird?”

“I don’t know, Gracie. It’s hard to describe. She’s like someone I once knew who fell off my Christmas card list. Someone I didn’t much care about finding again.” He slowed his pace, wanting to finish the conversation before they got into the black sedan waiting for them. He knew better than to discuss personal matters with a driver in the front seat. He didn’t need to explain that to Grace; she walked even slower.

“But you know,” he added, “now I wonder if having that attitude cost me the chance to know Josh.”

“What?”

“If I’d hunted Cissy down, I would have known about Josh.”

Grace let out a soft gasp. “So you’re having regrets?”

“How can I not?” he said, raw emotion breaking his voice. “He’s my own flesh and blood. I missed watching him grow, seeing him become a man. I had no say in that, none at all.”

She stopped walking altogether. “And just what,” she asked, “do you suppose you can do about that?”

“Not a damned thing,” he said, frustration burning in his chest.

“Well, you’d better figure out a way to be all right with it, because you can’t change what happened.” She started walking again. “You should talk to Josh.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“And that’s okay with you?”

She glanced over at him, her silk scarf fluttering in the wind. “Of course it is.”

“He doesn’t need a father,” Steve pointed out.

“And he doesn’t need any more commanding officers,” she said. “How about being his friend? Do you think you could manage that?”