Navy Husband (Navy #6)

Navy Husband (Navy #6) Page 21

“I’ll phone if I can, but there are no guarantees. She’s a Navy kid. She’ll understand.”

Until recently Shana hadn’t had much to do with the Navy. All at once she found her entire life affected by it, and frankly she was starting to get annoyed.

“I’ll be in touch, I promise,” Adam assured her. “Leaving you and Jazmine like this isn’t what I want, either.”

His words didn’t lessen the dejection she felt. She remembered, in an immediate and visceral way, the emotions she’d experienced when she saw Brad and Sylvia together, knowing exactly what they were doing. The sensation that she’d lost something vital had refused to go away. With Brad that was the signal she’d needed, because what they’d had wasn’t real, not on his part, anyway. With Adam…with Adam all she felt was loss.

“I don’t want you to go.” She knew it was childish to say that.

“I’ll be able to visit. About Jazz—I’ve got meetings this afternoon, and tonight I have to pack. I’ll phone when I can. If I can.”

Shana knew what he was asking. She sighed wearily. “I’ll tell her.”

“I’m sorry to put this on you, but if I don’t reach her, you’ll have to.”

“I know.”

“I meant what I said,” he reiterated. “I’ll visit as often as I can.”

While Adam might have every intention of flying in to see them, it would be time-consuming and complicated. Shana recalled that the flight between Hawaii and Portland was a good five hours. She’d taken a brief vacation there with friends; it was the longest flight she’d ever taken. Yes, his intentions were good but that was all they were—intentions.

“I’ve got your e-mail address,” he reminded her. “Yours and Jazmine’s, and I’ll stay in touch.”

“You promise?” She hated the fact that she still sounded like a thwarted child, but she couldn’t pretend this wasn’t hard.

“Yes—I promise.”

Shana had no choice but to comfort herself with his word. Doing her best to seem reconciled to what was happening, she straightened. “Have a safe flight, and don’t worry about Jazmine. I’ll explain everything to her.”

“Thank you.”

“No…Adam, thank you.” Her voice cracked before she finished and she knew she had to get off the phone or she’d embarrass herself further. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get back to work now.”

“I understand, but Shana, one last thing—about you and me. We have to talk. Soon, okay?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Replacing the receiver, she let her hand linger while she struggled to overcome her disappointment. With Adam stationed in Hawaii, she could forecast their future and she didn’t need the aid of a crystal ball. For Jazmine’s sake, he’d stay in touch. Later, when Alison returned and Jazmine went back to live with her mother, he and Shana would both make an effort. At least in the beginning. Then their time together would dwindle until they were forced to face the inevitable. It was how long-distance relationships usually ended.

Shana had seen it with friends. Couples would e-mail back and forth, and on special occasions they’d phone, just for the pleasure of hearing each other’s voices. Adam could fly on military transports, so there might even be a weekend now and then when he’d be able to visit the mainland, but she suspected those opportunities would be few and far between. They’d both try, but in the end the obstacles would be too much.

Adam had been a brief season in her life. Instead of complaining, she should be grateful. The lieutenant commander had given her back her self-confidence; he’d made her feel beautiful and…cherished. When she’d met him, another relationship was the last thing on her mind. But Adam had proved there were still good men left in this world, and that not every man was like Brad.

“Are you okay?” Catherine asked, joining her. She rested a gentle hand on Shana’s shoulder. “Was it bad news?”

“Everything’s all right,” she said, shaking her head in order to dispel the lethargic feeling that had stolen over her. “Or it will be soon,” she amended.

The look Catherine threw her said she wasn’t convinced, and of course the older woman’s instincts were accurate. Heaviness settled over Shana’s heart. She didn’t know why her relationships with men always fell apart. In retrospect, though, she realized she’d carried the relationship with Brad. She’d trusted, believed and held on. She refused to do that with Adam. She wanted a relationship of equals or not at all—and she’d grown increasingly sure that this was it. Her future. Good grief, she was reading a lot into a couple of kisses! It was just that everything had felt so right—and now this.

An hour later, just when the pizza sales had started to diminish, Jazmine returned, her face red and sweaty from her trek around Lincoln Park on her Rollerblades.

“I sold three more of your licorice braids,” Shana told her, trying to act normal.

Jazmine shrugged, but Shana could tell she was pleased. Shana had managed to pick up quite a bit of the girl’s body language. It wasn’t cool to show too much enthusiasm if there was the slightest possibility someone her own age would see it.

As long as Shana remembered that, she was fine. But when she forgot, problems developed. However, if Jazmine and Shana were alone, or if it was Jazz with Shana and Adam, a completely different set of behavioral rules applied.

“Would you like to make up a few more?” Shana asked.

“Maybe.”

This meant she’d be happy to, but not if a friend came by and thought she’d willingly agreed to do anything with or for an adult.

“Good.”

At closing time, Shana counted out the money from the cash register, while Jazmine sat in a booth curled up with a book. Every now and then, Shana felt the girl’s eyes on her. Catherine and Charles were finishing the cleanup in the kitchen.

“Is there anything I should know about?” her niece asked as soon as they were alone. She laid her book on the tabletop, her elbows on either side of it, and stared at Shana.

Jazmine’s intuition surprised her. Shana stopped in midcount and looked up. “Like what?”

Jazmine frowned. “I’m not sure, but I have the feeling you know something I don’t. I hate that.”

Shana wrapped elastics around the bills of various denominations, setting each stack aside. “I always did, too,” she said. After tucking the cash in the deposit bag, she joined her niece, sliding into the booth across from her.

“So there is something wrong.” Jazmine’s eyes seemed to grow darker. “My mom’s okay, isn’t she?” Her anxiety was unconcealed, and Shana wanted to reassure her as quickly as possible.

“Oh, yes! No worries there.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Her sigh of relief touched Shana’s heart. “This has to do with your uncle Adam.” How times changed. Only recently she’d begrudged Adam the term uncle. At first, the word had nearly gotten stuck in her throat, but now it fell easily from her lips.

Shana was going to miss him so much, but at the moment she was furious that he’d left the job of telling Jazmine up to her—even if she’d agreed to it. “What about Uncle Adam?” Jazmine’s eyes seemed more frightened by the second. She scrambled out of the booth.

Shana stood, too, and placed her arm around Jazmine’s thin shoulders, but her niece shook it off. In her need to comfort the girl, Shana had forgotten the rules.

“Just tell me,” Jazmine insisted.

Shana decided her niece was right. She’d give Jazmine the news as clearly, honestly and straightforwardly as she could. “The Navy is reassigning him to Hawaii.”

Jazmine spent a moment digesting the information. This was followed by a series of quickly fired questions. “When’s he flying out? He is flying, isn’t he? Does he get leave first? Because he should. What about the garden? He said he’d help and isn’t there a whole lot more that needs to be done? Besides, he promised me he’d be here and…and now he’s breaking his word.” As if she’d said too much she covered her mouth with both hands.

Shana didn’t know how to respond, where to start. “He phoned this afternoon to say his orders, uh, hit the boards and he had to leave first thing in the morning.”

Jazmine’s eyes flared. “Already?” She sounded shocked, disbelieving.

“I’m afraid so.”

“When did he find out?”

“He just got the final word this afternoon.”

“But he must’ve known something before now.”

Shana nodded.

“He never said a word.”

“I know.” Shana could kick him for that, especially now that she was the one telling Jazmine.

Jazmine sat down again and glared at Shana suspiciously. “He told you before this afternoon, though, didn’t he?”

Shana could probably talk her way out of this, but she didn’t want to lie to her niece. “He did, or…well, he mentioned the possibility. But he dreaded telling you, so he put it off. Besides, he wasn’t sure it would go through at all and certainly not this soon.”

“So he made you tell me.” Jazmine’s anger was unmistakable, despite the softness of her voice.

Shana nodded. Adam would pay dearly for that, she suspected.

Jazmine considered this information for a couple of minutes, then casually tossed back her hair. Propping her chin on her palm, she sat very still. “How do you feel about this?”

“I’m fine with it.” Shana managed to sound almost flippant. “But to be on the safe side, I’m bringing home a container of chocolate-mint ice cream.”

Her niece gave her a confused look.

“I’m throwing myself a pity party,” Shana explained. “You’re invited.”

“What are we going to do other than eat ice cream?”

“Watch old movies,” Shana decided. The two of them could snuggle up together in front of the television, wearing their oldest pajamas.

“Sleepless in Seattle is one of my mom’s favorites,” her niece told her. Apparently the kid was familiar with this particular brand of mood therapy. Shana would have to ask Alison about it at the first opportunity. Perhaps tonight, when she e-mailed her sister.

“Do you have any others we could watch?” Jazmine asked. “I’ve seen Sleepless so often I can say all the lines.”

“The Bridges of Madison County,” she suggested, but sometimes that one made her angry, when what she really wanted was to weep copiously at a fictional character’s tragic life. Pure catharsis, in other words.

“Mom said I was too young to see it,” Jazmine muttered disgustedly, as though she no longer required parental guidance.

At times it was hard to remember that her niece was only nine. The kid was mature beyond her years. Alison was right about the movie, though. A story featuring infidelity hardly seemed appropriate for a child.