The parking lot at D.D.’s was already almost full, and they were fortunate to find a space. Instead of requesting a table for dinner, Warren led her into the cocktail lounge, where they sat at a circular booth overlooking the water.
Warren had two double scotches in quick succession. He’d just ordered his third when Seth Gunderson walked casually into the lounge.
Justine’s shocked gaze clashed with his. She’d had no idea he was still in town. The last place she’d expected to run into him was here.
Seth looked slowly from Justine to Warren, a disgusted expression on his face.
Since it would be rude to ignore Seth completely, she attempted a smile. He acknowledged her briefly by inclining his head in her direction, then made for the bar. He took a seat with his back to her.
“What’s wrong?” Warren asked.
“Nothing,” she assured him, staring out over the waterfront and the marina.
“Who’s he?” Warren asked, glancing at Seth and then, as if he’d figured it out, he reached for his drink and tossed it down in one swallow. “Damn,” he said, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about it, Warren. I’m with you, not Seth.” Agreeing to marry Warren right then and there would reassure him, but she couldn’t make herself do it.
“You want him, though. Don’t you?”
“Of course not.” How easily the lie came to her lips.
“Who do you think you’re kidding?” Warren said scornfully. “It’s written all over both of you.”
“That’s not true.” She repulsed Seth. Everything he did told her as much. He sat at the bar with his back to her, letting her know that he couldn’t bear the sight of her.
“You can’t take your eyes off him,” Warren commented and oddly, he sounded amused.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m going to clear the air here and now.”
“No! Warren, no.” She tried to grab his arm as he slid out of the booth, but he was too fast for her.
Horrified, Justine watched as Warren walked over to the bar. She could only speculate about what he said, but he appeared to be inviting Seth to join them. Seth declined, and obviously Warren persisted, encouraging him. Justine wanted to crawl under the table when Seth finally gave in, picked up his beer and followed Warren back to their booth.
“Sit down,” Warren said jovially.
Seth hesitated. The option was to sit next to Warren or to slide into the booth beside her. He chose to sit by her, so she was trapped between the two men. She noticed that Seth was as far removed from her as he could possibly be and still remain in the booth. Warren moved closer to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
“I understand you two know each other from high school.”
Seth didn’t seem too interested in answering.
“We were friends even before that,” she murmured.
“Did you enjoy the reunion?” Warren asked, directing his question to Seth.
“Parts of it.” His gaze burned into Justine’s. “I understand congratulations are in order. Justine told me she’s agreed to be your wife.”
Warren’s arm tightened around her shoulders, as if to tell her how pleased he was. Then—pretending he knew—he said expansively, “That’s right. As you can imagine, I’m a happy man.” He threw Justine a bold smile.
“A lucky one,” Seth added without emotion.
“But not a selfish one,” Warren said, not quite under his breath.
Justine pressed her hand against his arm, fearing what he seemed about to say.
“What do you mean?”
“Warren, I think it’s time we had dinner,” Justine said, eager to end this conversation.
“Not quite yet.”
“Warren, please.”
“In a minute,” he said a little more firmly. “I can see what’s happening between you two,” Warren went on.
“Not a damn thing, I can assure you,” Seth informed him stiffly.
“Maybe. I’m not here to judge. I know how Justine feels about you, Gunderson. She’s got the hots for you.”
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded.
Seth frowned, his face darkening.
“You aren’t any better at hiding your feelings than she is,” Warren continued. “Well, more power to you.”
“Justine’s already agreed to marry you,” Seth reminded him.
“True, but we both know she’s more woman than an old guy like me can handle.”
“Oh, God.” Never in all her life had Justine been so humiliated, so embarrassed. She tried to leave the booth, but with Warren on one side and Seth on the other, she couldn’t escape.
Seth leapt out of the booth as if it’d suddenly caught fire. “I’ve heard enough of this conversation to know I’m unwilling to listen to any more.”
“Don’t be hasty,” Warren said with a congenial laugh. “I’m just trying to show you both how open-minded I am. If you want Justine, you can have her with my blessing.”
Seth’s earlier look of contempt didn’t compare to the one he cast Justine now. Contempt…and pity.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he said, slamming down his beer. “I have no interest in Justine.” Then he walked out of the lounge, not sparing her so much as a backward glance.
Nineteen
Cecilia felt the joy, anticipation and excitement as Navy wives and families crowded the pier, awaiting their husbands and fathers. She had truly become one of those wives. She stood with Cathy, who was obviously pregnant now. They held on to each other, fearful of being separated in the large group. In some ways, Cathy was like the sister she’d never had. She hoped that the bond they’d built in the past months would continue for a lifetime. Her friend had taught her so much about courage and hope. Lessons Cecilia had carried with her ever since the accident on the George Washington.
“I think I see Andrew,” Cathy shouted.
Andrew Lackey stepped off the gangplank and peered expectantly around. Cathy shrieked and ran toward him, arms flung wide. Andrew caught her around the waist and half lifted her from the ground. As they kissed, Cathy threw her arms around her husband’s neck.
Feeling a bit awkward watching them, Cecilia looked away, hoping to catch sight of Ian. Her heart sank; he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Glancing back at her friend, Cecilia felt tears in her eyes as Andrew flattened his hand against Cathy’s belly. Standing where she was, Cecilia could feel his relief and his sheer happiness that this pregnancy was secure. The most dangerous months had passed, and although there were no guarantees, a miscarriage was far less likely now. The doctors were pleased with the way the pregnancy was progressing.
Then all at once Cecilia saw Ian. He paused at the top of the gangplank and scanned the crowd, searching for her.
“Ian!” she shouted and her arms shot into the air to attract his attention. “Here! I’m here.” She took off running toward her husband, ducking and weaving through the crowd, and literally flew into his embrace.
Cecilia had thought she was ready for this moment, but nothing could have prepared her for the wild burst of happiness. When Ian returned shortly after Allison’s burial, she hadn’t come to the base to meet him. At the time, she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. But everything had changed, and now Ian was home and they were beginning a new life together.
“Oh, honey.” Her husband’s hands were in her hair and they kissed frantically, straining against each other, eager to give and receive, holding back nothing.
“Welcome home.” As long as her arms were around his neck, she didn’t care if her feet dangled inches off the ground. “How are your ribs?” she asked, afraid all this hugging might hurt him.
“They burn like hell, but I’d rather put up with the pain than not hold you.” He kissed her again. The passion between them was back, the way it had been at the start.
Tears welled in Cecilia’s eyes. She hadn’t expected to cry, but it felt so…so good to be with Ian. The months he’d been at sea had been a time of healing for them both.
“I love you so much,” she whispered over and over.
“I love you, too.”
Ian had proved it in more ways than she could count. She was grateful for his patience and his refusal to give up on her or their marriage. If it hadn’t been for his repeated attempts to resolve their differences, she was sure they would’ve been divorced by now. Neither Ian nor the judge had made divorce an easy option and Cecilia was truly thankful.
“I’ve made a decision,” she told him as they walked toward the car, their arms locked around each other. Now that he was home, any separation, even that of a few inches, seemed too much.
“I hope it involves living with you again,” he murmured.
“Yes, it does.” Actually Ian was in for a surprise. With Cathy’s help, she’d moved her husband’s things back into their small apartment. Some of his stuff was still on base, but everything he’d left with the Lackeys had been brought to their home.
“I want my wife with me.” He stared into her eyes.
“I want another baby, Ian.” There, she’d said it. The words came straight from her heart.
His steps faltered and he stopped abruptly. “I thought…you said…”
She knew he was confused and could hardly blame him. “You can thank Cathy and Andrew for my decision.” If her friend could face a third pregnancy with hope and a positive attitude, then Cecilia, too, could learn to let go of her pain and look toward the future.
“You’re sure? Because I’ve made up my mind to leave it entirely up to you. Don’t misunderstand me, I want a family, but it’s more important to me that you feel you can go through with another pregnancy.”
Cecilia leaned her head against his shoulder as they resumed walking. “I’ve given this a lot of thought in the last few months. I’d like to continue with my schooling.”
“You should, Cecilia. You’re very intelligent, and you show real ability with numbers.”
“But I want a family, too. Our family. I’d like to wait a couple of years, though.”
“Whatever you decide.”
“I wish you’d been this agreeable a few months ago,” she teased, then changed her mind. He’d been stubborn, all right, but she’d been no less so.
“Someday soon I want to go back and visit that judge.”
“Why?”
“She had the courage to tell us to stay together. She didn’t say it in so many words, but that was her message. I want to thank her.”
“I do, too,” Ian said. And he gently kissed the top of her head.
The telephone woke Grace out of a sound sleep. Heart pounding, she jerked upright and automatically groped for the receiver.
“Yes?”
“It’s time,” her son-in-law said.
“Kelly’s in labor?” Grace was already out of bed, holding the telephone to her ear, turning on lights, looking for clothes. The digital clock-radio told her it was three-fifty.