Undetected

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Undetected Page 8

by Dee Henderson


  “You always were good at speeches.”

  Jeff grinned. “Gina says I like to deconstruct her just for the fun of annoying her. I know you, Mark. You’ve been in a holding pattern, waiting for the day you decide to think about a lady again. It’s time.”

  “It’s time,” Mark echoed, oddly comforted by Jeff’s words. He didn’t need the reassurance, but it felt good just the same. “So what are you going to do about Gina’s breakup?”

  Jeff shook his head. “Don’t know. She’ll talk about what happened eventually. She’ll clam up for a good while first, though. Without even knowing what Kevin said or did, I’d like to give him a piece of my mind for dating her two years before breaking it off. If he had done it at a year, at least the damage wouldn’t go so deep.

  “She gets hurt easily, Mark,” Jeff continued, his tone serious. “It’s something I never really understood until she hit about 18. I realized then how much being so far ahead of her peers in school left her hurting from the unthinking comments people make. Being an adult no doubt has made it easier now, but it’s still there, when people realize how smart she is. I’ll lay good money Kevin finally decided he didn’t want a wife smarter than himself. She’ll win more grants, more fellowships, more awards, and he’d always be in the shadow of her spotlight. Or more likely—” Jeff stopped abruptly and winced—“I’ll bet Gina being Gina and loving the guy asked questions about his work, thought about the problem he was working to solve, and made a suggestion that turned out to be right. In love with him, she wouldn’t have been able to help herself; she would have wanted to help him out. She probably solved in a few weeks what he’d been working on for months or years.”

  “He’s an idiot if that’s what happened and he let it bother him.”

  “It will be that, or a variation of that. She asked me when she was 14 who was going to want a smart wife. I should have ignored her age and realized she was right to be worried.”

  Mark glanced over at Jeff. “Fourteen?”

  “She likes to think ahead.”

  Mark laughed. “I don’t envy you the problem you’ve got, but you did get an interesting sister. My sisters were more conventional. They just dated way too much for my comfort before they settled down with the guys they married.”

  “At least Gina is smart enough to come find me. Even with the age gap, we’ve always been pretty close,” Jeff said. He folded up the towel and tossed it in the back. “Rain’s going to make the fishing good along Hood Canal. Want to head out Thursday morning for a couple of hours?”

  “Sure. I’ve already been testing out the coves. Triton gave up some nice bass.”

  5

  The commander’s backyard barbecue looked like a success. Mark Bishop picked his way upward through the people sitting on the deck steps, crossed it, and nodded his thanks to a crewman sliding the patio door open for him.

  Gina Gray was standing at the kitchen sink washing celery stalks and humming softly to herself along with the music pounding outside. A plastic cup beside her looked like it held fruit punch and sherbet. She was busy, being helpful, and yet she also seemed content. He slid the armload of shucked ears of corn onto the counter beside her. “Glad you came, Gina.”

  She glanced over, eyed the corn on the cob. “You throw an interesting barbecue.”

  He grinned. “Thank you. The crowd eats everything that comes out of this kitchen before the day is done. The rule on sink duty is 15 minutes, then you plop that sticker on someone you want to give it to for the next 15 minutes.”

  “So I was told. Jeff’s already said Penn is next. What do I do with the corn?”

  “Wash them, send them back outside. Someone will wrap them in foil and toss them on a free spot on one of the grills.”

  “I can handle that.”

  He pulled another bottle of barbecue sauce from the cupboard. Chicken was ready to grill, and he retrieved six packages of brats and four of hot dogs from the refrigerator, then paused beside her. “Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Glad to have Jeff home?”

  Her face lit up with her smile. “Very much so.”

  He lingered for a brief moment, captured by the smile. “You love him a lot.”

  “Yeah. He’s all that’s left of family now that our parents have passed away.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Technically there are a couple of distant cousins, but Jeff doesn’t like them much.”

  Mark remembered a past conversation. “Kelly and Kyle?”

  “Jeff’s been talking.”

  “He does that when we hit R and R together and we’re out fishing somewhere. He talks about you, his crew on the Seawolf, what you’re working on, who he’s dating.”

  “And what do you talk about?”

  “Whatever topic he’s brought up.”

  She grinned. “Okay.”

  “I go to fish. The conversation is like an interesting radio station with long silent pauses for the commercials.”

  She laughed softly. “You like my brother.”

  “One of the best friends I’ve got in Bangor. Somewhere in the back of the refrigerator you’ll find a blue Tupperware with a piece of cake in it. I hid it for you when Jeff mentioned you might stop by today.”

  “All right . . .”

  “I missed your birthday.”

  Her face turned a touch pink. “Thank you.”

  “My sisters prefer chocolate icing over white cake and insist on a corner piece. Since I didn’t know your preferences, I went with theirs.”

  “I’ll enjoy it.”

  Petty Officer Peter York entered the kitchen. “There you are, Gina. Hey, Commander.” He slid the second plate he held onto an open spot on the counter, lightly touched a hand to the small of her back. “The hamburger is cooked to overdone, as requested, and I got you the last of the coleslaw.”

  “Thanks, Peter.” Gina held Mark’s gaze for a last brief moment, then looked at Peter. “Let me finish up the corn on the cob and then I’ll turn over the sink duty to Penn. I’d like to see the clam pit after we eat.”

  “I’m game.”

  Mark nodded to York and headed out with the items for the grills, pleased to see Peter had chosen to spend part of his day with Gina. He’d make sure she had a good afternoon.

  Two-thirds of gold crew would make this barbecue, bringing their families along, before the day was over. As announced, the gathering began at nine in the morning and ran until nine at night, with food the one constant.

  He had a house on an inlet so his backyard ran down to a river shoreline, though it wasn’t deep enough for a boat to dock. But it offered a good view. His neighbor to the east was part of gold crew, and the neighbor to the west was a friend who helped throw this party. The spillover populated their backyards too, and the crowd of guests were able to spread out enough to make it a relaxed and fun social event.

  More than half of his crew was married, with most of them starting families. Mark scooped up a toddler who had gotten away from his mom, got two sticky hands and a pat on the face to go with a smile as he returned the boy to his mother. Children’s shrieks of laughter at the water games, ball toss, Twister, and hopscotch competed with the live music by the guys forming an impromptu band on the side driveway. Someone had hauled over a drum set and a few electric guitars, and keyboards had appeared midmorning with power cords now snaking out from his garage.

  It was a party, but also a kind of commander’s triage. Mark kept the food flowing, offering a smile and quick word with his guests, while his attention never stopped roving and observing. A lot was happening today at a deeper level than a backyard barbecue.

  Gold crew guys needed to be on good terms with one another. Annoyances could build if somebody was getting on your nerves during a 90-day patrol. This was a chance for the guys to recalibrate, share a laugh, work a grill together. They needed to ease off that stress with each other.

  Gold crew wives needed a day to rela
x with the other wives, no longer having to wonder if their husbands were safe, or when they were coming home, and talk about homecoming stories. There were friendships here among the women that were strong, that were being forced to grow stronger the more times gold crew headed out. Eight couples were pregnant. Five of the women were likely to give birth during the next patrol. The husband wouldn’t be there for her, but other gold crew wives would. That support made Navy life for families possible.

  Mark would make a point to talk with every wife and girlfriend at this gathering. Though their husbands and boyfriends had volunteered, the women hadn’t but were making similar sacrifices. The least he could do was let them know that sacrifice hadn’t gone unnoticed. And occasionally during those brief one-on-one conversations, a wife gave him a comment that would change his approach in how he mentored a particular crewman.

  All wasn’t well in this extended work family. Five couples were close to divorce, seventeen were having financial problems serious enough for him to know about it, six were dealing with teenagers having a particularly rough few years. The patrols and the separations were especially hard on the kids.

  The older enlisted guys helped keep tabs on what was happening. Most families did adapt to military life and the regular separations, and they created a routine that worked for them. Others made the wise decision not to reenlist and moved on to civilian life.

  Mark knew he had been very blessed in his marriage to Melinda. She had never felt a conflict between his love for her and the fact he’d had to leave her. The boat would ship out on a predetermined date, and he would be gone for three months, regardless of the circumstances going on in their personal lives. He’d had to go on patrol when she was desperately sick with the flu, another time five days after she had found out she’d been laid off from her job, and even worse, two days after her father had a heart attack and it wasn’t known if he would pull through.

  Mark had done everything he could to arrange help for her while he was gone, but he hadn’t been there at times when she had every right to expect it. She’d never once asked him to leave the Navy. She’d let him stay with the job he loved even though it cost her. She had loved him, been proud of him. That was the one constant he had in his memories of life with her. He’d had a wife who loved him deeply, and it had turned out to be a very good marriage.

  Mark picked up sodas from the ice chest and went to join the guys pitching horseshoes. The one thing this group would never be was dull or fully settled. It would always be in flux, and part of his job was to be aware of what was happening, channel matters to a good outcome when he could influence what occurred, be prepared for the fallout when family matters went south. The Navy had a divorce rate that alarmed him. Some cash out of his own pocket for a day of food and conversation, a chance for him to assess what was going on had always seemed like a wise use of his time and funds. Besides, it was the one day he got to be off duty with his crew. The barbecue was for his own benefit too.

  The barbecue was finally winding down. Mark Bishop felt the fatigue of a long, satisfying day. Jeff turned a folding table on its side, pushed back the lock bar, and kicked the legs to fold up into the table base. Mark added more plastic chairs to the stack he would return to the rental shop. Jeff might not be gold crew, but Mark had roped him into coming over for the day just the same.

  “Did I hear Linda Masters is engaged?” Jeff asked as he carried the table over to lean against the chairs.

  “She is,” Mark replied. His plan to ask her out to dinner had turned into a call congratulating her. He hadn’t been that surprised when she told him her fiancé was a fellow teacher she’d known for many years. Three months away could change a lot of things onshore. It wasn’t the first time he’d bumped into an unexpected turn of events after he got back from patrol, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  “You can’t let this be some kind of sign, a reason to stop and rethink restarting your social life.”

  Mark sent Jeff a glance. He’d talked more than he intended about his future plans while they were fishing. “I’m not taking it that way. Jessica stopped by this afternoon. I hadn’t realized she was back in town. I was thinking I’d give her a call.”

  Jeff looked around the driveway to see who was nearby. “You like Gina. Ask her to dinner.”

  The comment caught Mark off guard, especially coming from her brother. The image of Gina in his kitchen a few hours ago flitted across his mind. She’d looked good. The thought was quickly followed by reality. Mark shook his head. “I’m too old for her, Jeff. She’s too young for me. She was in kindergarten when I was learning to drive.”

  “She might be young in years, but she’s got a mind that is ancient, it’s got so much knowledge crammed into it.”

  “She’s 12 years younger than me.”

  “Eleven and a half to be precise. That isn’t 20 years younger, you know. Give her the benefit of the doubt and at least see what you think after a date.”

  The idea didn’t sit well. She was on the rebound from one breakup, and she didn’t need someone treating her as a trial run. “No. Jessica is the right next call for me,” Mark said, comfortable with the decision.

  Jeff frowned briefly, then sighed and turned another table on its side to fold up the legs. “Gina’s asked me to introduce her to Navy guys I like.”

  Mark swung his head around. “She what?”

  “She finally started talking, and as usual she had her layers packed. The breakup with Kevin shook her up pretty bad. She’s willing to admit that. She’s also trying to move on. She wants my help.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “A kid sister asks you to do something, it’s not much of a decision. I’m going to do what she asked.”

  “She spent most of the afternoon with Peter York.”

  “He’s okay. He was at her side 10 minutes after we arrived, doing his own introductions. Kind of nicely rolled over her, I think, and wrapped her up as his for the day.”

  “Smart man,” Mark commented. “If not York, then who are you thinking about?”

  “A sonar guy from the Nebraska, Daniel Field.”

  Mark considered that and nodded. “Field is a good man. A Southern gentleman.”

  “You’d be better.”

  “Not in the cards, Jeff. She’s too young, she’s your sister, not to mention Rear Admiral Hardman considers her my work assignment until this sonar idea she’s sorting out is clarified.” He needed to change the subject. “Have you decided where you’re heading on leave?”

  “Gina wants to pack up her Boulder apartment and ship her stuff back to Chicago. I’m going to handle that for her. She’s ambivalent about returning to Colorado anytime soon, and I talked her into staying here. I’ll spend a few days skiing in the area while I’m there. Probably take George Tinn along with me to help haul the boxes down two flights of stairs. I’ll be back here in about 10 days. You’ll watch out for Gina while I’m gone?”

  “Sure, that I can do.” Mark picked up the last chair. “So she’s moving back to Chicago?”

  “I don’t think she knows where she’s heading next. She’s got preliminary interviews at several universities and a few NASA research locations lined up. Something big in science she can sink her teeth into—having nothing to do with the oceans this time—would be my guess.”

  Mark carried the first of the folded tables to the pickup truck. Jeff hauled over another one.

  “Jessica, huh?” Jeff asked.

  “Have a problem with that?”

  “She’ll put you to sleep, Mark. She’s a nice woman, but when you’ve met her, spent a few days in her company, you’ve discovered all there is to know about her. Melinda had layers on layers, and you loved that. Find someone with history, someone with a packed calendar, a busy woman going lots of directions. Tiffany, if you want a name.”

  Mark laughed. “Your description of Melinda is right on, but Tiffany as a wife for me? We’re on different planets on that one. She’s got fitness
clubs and gyms popping up all over the area, she’s got energy leaking out of her, she’s the definition of a bubbly personality—and she would drive me nuts inside of a week. She’s also . . . what, a decade younger than me?”

  “Eight years. You’re going to have to accept going younger if you want to find a woman who’s flexible enough to adapt to being a Navy wife. It’s not an easy transition, Mark.”

  “Why don’t you ask Tiffany out?” Mark countered.

  Jeff grinned. “Already have on occasion.” He pushed another folded table into the truck bed. “But can you imagine Gina and Tiffany in the same room?”

  Mark thought about it. Both women collected information—Gina’s tended to be facts and thoughtful, while Tiffany’s leaned toward social and conjecture. But both were never boring to talk with. “They might do better together than you think.”

  “Whoever she turns out to be, my wife’s got to get along with my sister or my life would not be worth living.”

  “You’re thinking about getting married?”

  Jeff shrugged. “You’re not the only one getting older.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Didn’t say I was going to do something about it.”

  Mark smiled. “You will. The idea spreads until it’s the only good idea you’ve got left, and you have to do something about it. Ask Gina about Tiffany before you make an assumption. She might surprise you.”

  “Why don’t you do the same?” Jeff replied. “Ask Gina out before you assume she’s too young for you.”

  Mark glanced around as the screen door bounced shut, and the conversation was abandoned before he answered. Gina and Peter York were coming down the front steps, Peter carrying the box of leftover cupcakes that Mark had asked him to take to the family center on base.

  “Anything else you want me to drop off, Commander?” Peter asked.

  “That’s it. Thanks for the help.”

  “No problem. Gina and I are going to go see the moon fog that rises over the Hood Canal on cool nights like this. I’ll bring her home in a few hours, Jeff.”

 

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