“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Answer it?” Rich laughed at his expression. “Didn’t they ever tell you that legends never die?”
“Maybe a bonfire.”
“Admit it, mail is nice. Grace called.”
Bruce set down the orange juice carton. “When?”
“Last night, about nine. I’ve got her number written down around here somewhere.”
“Did she leave a message?”
“Nope. We chatted for about twenty minutes. I asked, and she just said to mention she’d called. Here it is. She’s in Phoenix tonight.” Rich handed him the scrap of paper and smiled. “I’ll make myself scarce so you can call her back.”
“Appreciate it,” Bruce replied, already dialing.
Rich laughed and retrieved a soda. “You’ve got it bad. Can’t blame you. Nice lady.”
“Scram.”
“Scramming.”
“Grace. It’s Bruce. Did I catch you at a bad time? What are you doing in Phoenix?” He reached for the nearest chair.
PHOENIX, ARIZONA
Grace pulled another soda out of the ice bucket, now more full of water than ice. “The hotel air-conditioning is struggling to keep up. I’d open a window but it’s like ninety-nine degrees and muggy out and it’s Phoenix of all places. It’s supposed to be dry heat.” She cracked the tab on the soda and got sprayed. “Hold on, Bruce.”
She dropped the phone and scrambled to get a towel. Wonderful. Her white shirt was now going to be forever stained with purple. “So much for the new carbonated grape soda; I just took a bath in it. What a sticky mess.” She started gathering papers together spread out around on the floor. The table had been too small.
“Your trip is sounding more and more like mine.”
She smiled and wished he wasn’t half the country away. “But I get a super-duper plane to make up for the aggravation.”
“Have you seen it yet?”
“I got an intro hop two hours ago. Sweet, Bruce. Sweet. I bet it could slam past a Tomcat and make that bird look like it was a prop flight. I’m dying to get more than a ferry job out of it.”
“Think the squadron will get the upgrades?”
“Eighteen months, just about the time I get to do sea tour number three. Wouldn’t that be excellent timing? New Hornet upgrades and a new job as chief of a shop. I’d even take maintenance chief to get to care for these darlings.”
“You’re like a guy at a car show.”
“Worse. The things I get heart palpitations over will never fit my budget.” Grace tugged over the spec manual. “I could read the altitude maneuverability indexes. Incredible stats.”
“Better yet, what’s the price tag?”
“Sixty-two million a plane. Cheap compared to what you all in the Air Force are wanting to spend.”
Bruce laughed. “A bargain. What’s your flight schedule?”
She leaned back against the bed and pushed papers threatening to topple back into a stack with her toe. “I ferry it sedately across country to Texas and then to Norfolk. It’s going out for the first carrier landing tests and then to load testing. Wish I got that job too.”
“How’d you swing the ferry job?”
“Peter got the flu.”
“Poor Peter. Did you give it to him?”
“Would have if I’d thought of it,” she admitted.
“You are having a good week.”
“Yeah. Tell me about yours.”
“Let’s not. Yours is more interesting.”
Grace laughed. “One of those meetings.”
“They were hoping to snag volunteers for an eight-month TDY in Argentina so they don’t have to decide which units to shuffle around. We’re all over limits on twelve-month travel, and the Air Force hates the red tape of getting waivers issued,” Bruce replied.
“They’ll get the waivers and choose a unit.”
“I know. I felt just a tad guilty about not volunteering until I decided I’d volunteered for Ecuador, and before that Honduras. Someone else can volunteer this month, hopefully someone unattached.”
“If you did say yes, I’d understand.”
“I know, Grace. I just didn’t want to go. On occasion that’s a good thing.”
“Yes, it is. It was nice to talk to your partner Rich.”
“I heard you two had a chat.”
“Did you two really get lost at sea last week?”
“Only in the sense that we knew where we were, but the recovery planes didn’t,” Bruce said.
“You hit the emergency squawk.”
“And had to spend the rest of the day explaining why we turned an exercise into a real-time recovery. Getting a concussion can wash a PJ out of the job forever, and Rich took a pretty good thump when the raft failed to inflate properly. We had the survival gear doing its best to drown us for a few minutes.”
“What a wonderful image.”
Bruce chuckled. “It’s just water, and I can hold my breath a very long time. I was just petrified of the idea I’d have to give Rich mouth-to-mouth. Now that would have been scary.”
“He’s fine?”
“My partner is indestructible. He wrestled the raft back into submission, yelled at the sea for slapping him around, and got us turned around and on track to pick up the other PJs, who were by that time almost half a mile away because of the current drift. It was an all-around good training exercise for the problems it threw at us.”
“And you were doing this while it was still essentially dark,” Grace said.
“The sun was just thinking about coming up,” Bruce said. “It’s not like there were any sharks around to make it interesting or boats to try and run us over.”
“That sounds like both have happened in the past.”
“On occasion,” Bruce agreed. “How many times has Incirlik happened?”
“Point made. Several, most of them more interesting.”
“Thought so. So what are you doing still up at this time of night?”
“Bruce, time zones work to my advantage. It’s still early here.”
“A momentary aberration in math. Had dinner yet?”
“Room service. But the Navy is cheap on the per diem. I had a salad.”
“Wilted lettuce?”
She chuckled. “How did you guess?”
“I’ve lived in enough hotel rooms. Are we still on for this weekend?”
“Saturday morning, 1100, Jill’s. Casual dress.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll just have to show up and see.”
“A mystery.”
“The best kind of weekends. Get some sleep, Bruce. You’ll need it.”
“Thanks for the warning. Dream about me, or your plane, tonight.”
“Probably the plane.”
“Probably. Night, Grace.”
She hung up the phone, feeling lighthearted, happy. It was nice having him a phone call away. Bruce was an easy man to talk to. He’d let her into his world; she was looking forward to this weekend and a chance to pull him into hers.
SEPTEMBER 30
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA
Bruce pushed open Jill’s door. “You said casual. I see you meant it.” Grace was wearing a very old sweatshirt with cutoff sleeves, traces of white paint, and jeans that were white at the pockets and knees from wear.
“I did. You weren’t so sure, I see.”
“Casual but being broken in. I didn’t think you’d appreciate the jeans that Emily tried to bury.”
“That bad?”
“Pretty much.” He leaned against the doorframe. “You can come in, Grace. I think you’ve been here a few times and Jill is up now that it’s 1100. You’re prompt by the way.”
“Since I woke Jill up with the phone call at 1000 I figured she might finally be moving. Why don’t we just head out and come back later today to bug her? Bring Emily.”
“Where are we going?”
“A surprise until you’re at least in the
car and have no choice but to come along.”
Bruce laughed and snapped his fingers. “Emily, come on, honey. She’s a duchess. One with her own sense of time.”
“I’m learning that.”
The dog paused at the door, lingered at the top of the stairs to smell the air, considered for several moments the stairs before taking the first one and then bounding down them in a rush.
Grace opened the car door. “She’s welcome to join us in front.”
“Got a towel? She can take the backseat and sleep. She’s not much for putting her head out the window. She’d do it once or twice until she starts to sneeze, and then her ears go back in annoyance at the wind.”
“Better yet, I have a couple blankets.” She got one from the trunk.
With a laugh, Bruce picked up Emily to assist her into the car. “I don’t know about this.”
“Trust me; she’s an essential part of the day’s plans.”
Grace tugged a sheet of paper out of her pocket. She handed it to him as she pulled out of the drive. “Welcome to a day in the life of Grace.”
* * *
“Where do the tomatoes go?”
Grace sank facedown on her couch, kicked off her shoes, and groaned. “I don’t care. Anywhere. I’m too tired to think.”
Bruce appeared in the doorway. “I’ve worn you out.”
“I think I died somewhere between picking out Wolf’s birthday present and the dry cleaner. That visit to the gym about toasted me.”
“We’ve still got the library, the bank, a stop at the greenhouse, and a visit to your dad’s. I’m intrigued with that last one.”
“Scratch that one. Dad went up to Washington, D.C., to annoy our state senator over the defense appropriations bill. He didn’t call, which means his flight was delayed, again. He’s getting a reputation for the scathing editorials on airline service.”
“Maybe another time. I’d like to meet him.”
“I’m sure he’d like to meet you too.”
“Don’t fall asleep. We’re due at Jill’s new office at 1600 to help her move file cabinets.”
“Okay.”
“You’re falling asleep.”
“Catnap. It was a very late night getting ready for today.”
He joined her in the living room, then lifted her feet to sit on the far end of the couch. He rubbed the sole of her foot. “Want to tell me what happened last night? The answering machine message was cryptic, but even I figured out you were somewhere at 0200.”
“Wolf needed some help with a friend. That feels good.” She’d been emergency babysitting until about 0400. Wolf was helpless with kids.
“I thought it was something like that. Everything okay?”
She shrugged.
“Deployments are stressful on families.”
“Yeah. He’ll call if he needs me.”
“Why didn’t he call Jill?”
Grace smiled. Jill was lousy with crying kids.
“Oh.”
“Twenty minutes of sleep. Then we’ll go again. And add a stop to get gas to that list of errands.”
He tugged down the throw on the back of the couch. “Sure.”
“Now I know I really like you. Beach tonight. I’ll make up for today.”
“Don’t apologize. I’ve been enjoying a day in the life of Grace.”
* * *
The moonlight on the water was dancing atop the waves. They had the beach pretty much to themselves. Bruce stirred the fire in the small public fire ring. It was the kind of peaceful night perfect for sitting around, talking. The stars were bright, the wind gentle, the moon a perfect bright circle.
“You like to rescue things, don’t you?”
Bruce glanced over to where Grace was brushing Emily’s coat with a dog brush she had brought down with them. If he had wanted to script a weekend with her, he couldn’t have come up with something better than these last hours. The firelight played over Gracie’s hair, adding golden highlights, deepening her blue eyes. “What?”
“You rescued Emily.”
“I suppose so.”
“When did you decide I needed to be rescued?”
Her question caught him off guard. “Grace.”
“When?”
“You looked a little lost last Christmas,” he allowed slowly. Was she mad? “I decided it made sense to do something about it.”
“You thought this relationship out before you sent that first letter during the deployment.”
He was relieved at the mild tone. “You credit me with more than I could accomplish, but yes, I thought about that first letter a great deal. It surprises you that it would matter that much to me?”
“Yes.”
Bruce set down the stick he was using to prod the fire to life and stood up. He dusted off his jeans. She tipped her head to look up at him, curious. “Come here.” He held out his hands.
“What?”
“I’ve got a question for you, best asked on more level ground.”
She let him pull her to her feet. He slid his hands up to cup her face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
“You said a question.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, but it’s time you heard a few compliments in words, not just on paper. Miss Grace, would you care to be my girl?”
She leaned her head against his chest. “You do have a way with words, Striker.”
He wrapped his arms loosely around her. “I would like nothing better than to share many more weekends like this one with you.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, then rubbed her cheek against his shirt. “I’d love to know how to make this work.”
He tipped up her chin with his thumb. “You let me figure that out.” He leaned forward and gently kissed her.
Bruce ~
You asked about dreams for the future. You ask fascinating questions.
I’ve got a job I love and I’ve got peace with my God. Life as it is now is good. What I want most is to have a relationship that can be part of my life but doesn’t so strain it that I lose what I have. Does that make sense? It sounds so self-centered. I know you must feel a constant sense of hesitation with me, wondering is she committed to this relationship? I really like you, I enjoy your company, I trust you, and talking to you brightens my day. I will step out as far as you want to with this relationship because I trust you. But it’s a friendship that may need to stay a friendship for a few years.
I’m not saying I couldn’t walk away from my career if something huge came up that meant it was the best decision to make. I’m more saying I really don’t want to step into something that makes those kinds of radical changes necessary. Oh, I’m floundering here. I fear the reality of two military jobs will make this unworkable. Simple geography will kill us. Let me end this letter before I get things more muddled.
Yours, Grace
* * *
Grace ~
Relax. We’ll figure it out by listening to each other and a lot of honesty. You’re worried about geography; I’m worried about more simple things like how to overcome it. We’ve seen marriages with both in the military that thrived. It’s not impossible. Think about a day in the distant future that looks something like this:
Letters, e-mails, and phone calls can shrink the distance so we can keep in touch. Two military careers mean two home bases wherever we happen to be stationed—so our commuting back and forth is the next problem. Getting stationed on the same coast should be possible even with the way the Navy and Air Force like to schedule us.
Two home bases, so double everything. You should be able to walk into the place and feel at home regardless of which city it is. Remember those days in training when home was somewhere other than the base in which you were living? There were benefits in those days. I see more opportunities than I do insurmountable obstacles. We just have to get creative.
What I want is simple. Ecuador decided a lot of things for me, because I finally understood that life
will probably be shorter than what I’d like regardless of if it’s another year or fifty. I want to fill it with the things I treasure. Remodeling a house because I love to build something that as long as it survives will reflect part of my time and effort; a dog because it’s the one dream of a childhood unfulfilled; and making people more of a priority because this life was meant to be shared.
I like sharing it with you. How many people can understand my job? You understand it in the best way. To a pilot, PJs are the knights in shining armor coming to the rescue, and I have to admit, it’s nice to be with someone who sees my job that way. You understand my priorities, and I understand yours. God, the military, family. They can coexist.
Do I miss you? Horribly. Do I think of you all the time? Absolutely. Do I wish you were here? More than I can put into words. But still I am content. Nothing thrills me more than knowing I’ll get to come up and watch you fly some weekend soon.
Thinking about you, Bruce
Matthew 7:7–11
Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For every one who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. Or what man of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!
Twenty-Four
* * *
OCTOBER 21
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA
“How’s the weather there?”
“Windy, just beginning to rain,” Grace told Bruce, pushing back the window drapes to watch it coming down. “The planes have been tucked down for the night, and flight ops to the USS Harry Truman have been cancelled while the storm front moves through. Are you going out?”
She was falling in love. It was scary and wonderful and overwhelming. She worried about Bruce on nights like this. The storm that was just touching them had been buffeting the Florida panhandle for hours. It was wonderful just to hear his voice.
True Valor Page 17