“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I know.” She couldn’t seem to say more than two words at a time. “Tonight?” she managed through her painfully dry throat.
Despite her lack of clarity or detail, he understood the question. “Unfortunately, I can’t. There’s too much to do.”
“I know…”
“Is Jazmine there?”
Shana pressed her hand against her forehead. “No, she’s at the park skating with her friends.”
“You may need to tell her for me.”
“No!” Shana’s objection was immediate. “You have to do it.”
“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.
“For her pity parties, Mom likes popcorn best. The more butter the better,” she said matter-of-factly. “We had several of them after Dad died. But Mom didn’t call them pity parties.”
“What did she call them?”
“Tea parties, but we only had them when we were feeling sad.”
“Always with buttered popcorn?”
“It goes good with tea,” Jazmine said. “I don’t think she had a name for them at first. I woke up one night and saw her crying in front of the TV, and she said sad movies always made her cry. Then I asked her why she watched them.”
Shana already knew the answer to that. “Because she needed a good cry.”
Jazmine nodded again. “That’s exactly what Mom said.” The girl sighed heavily, then added in a small voice, “I don’t want her to be sad.”
“Me, neither, but it’s part of life, Jazz. It’s not good to be too sad or for too long, but being sad has its place. For one thing, sadness makes happiness that much more wonderful.”
Jazmine looked at her thoughtfully, awareness dawning in her eyes.
“Now, it’s been a while since I had an official pity party,” Shana said briskly. “One is long overdue.” She’d made a couple of weak attempts when she left Brad, but she’d been too angry with him to do it properly. If anything, their breakup had left her feeling strong and decisive. That high hadn’t lasted, and she’d found it emotionally difficult to reconcile herself to the end of the relationship—but only for a short time. Thanks to Adam…
She thought that breaking off her engagement—or whatever it was—with Brad did call for a party, but a real party with banners and food, champagne and music and lots of people. She smiled as she considered how far she’d come.
“What’s so funny?” Jazmine asked.
Shana instantly sobered. “Remember a few weeks ago, when you said I had issues?”
“Yeah.”
“One of those issues was Brad.”
Jazmine rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it!”
Shana laughed out loud. “I was just thinking I never really had a pity party over him.”
Jazmine cocked her head quizzically. “Do women always throw these parties because of men?”
“Hmm.”
Shana had never given the matter much thought. “Yes,” she said firmly. “It’s always about men.”
“That’s what I figured.” Jazmine shook her head sadly, as if this reasoning was beyond her.
They loaded up with chocolate-mint ice cream, and whipped topping for good measure, and headed out the door. Shana had to make a quick stop at the bank, but they were home before the ice cream had a chance to melt.
Within ten minutes, they were both lying on their backs, dressed in old flannel pajamas, studying the ceiling.
“Remember when Brad phoned you a little while ago?” Jazmine asked.
“Yup.” Shana didn’t want to dwell on Brad. She wanted to think about Adam and how much they were going to miss him. Brad paled in comparison to Adam Kennedy.
“Why did he call?”
Shana rolled onto her stomach and raised her head. “He realized the error of his ways.”
Jazmine rolled over, too. “Are you going to take him back?”
Shana didn’t even need to think about it. “No.”
Jazmine solemnly agreed. “He had his turn.”
Boy, did he!
“Uncle Adam is next in line.”
It occurred to Shana to explain that pity parties were usually wakes for relationships. This wake was for Adam and her. Shana was cutting her losses now, doing her best to accept the likely end of their brief romance and move forward.
“What if Brad came to Seattle?” Jazmine asked excitedly, as if that were a distinct possibility. “What would you do then?”
Shana flopped onto her back again. “Nothing.”
“Not a thing?”
“Not a single, solitary thing.”
“What if he offered you an engagement ring?”
Shana grinned. “First, I’d faint from the shock of it, and then I’d…I’d ask to see his ID. Make sure this was really Brad.”
“Would you cry?”
“I doubt it.”
“But you’d turn him down, right?”
“Wait a minute.” Shana pulled herself into a sitting position. “Is there any particular reason for all these questions about Brad?”
Jazmine sighed loudly. “I wanted to be sure you’re really, really over that rat.”
“Rat?”
“That’s what Mom called him.”
“We are.”
“So, why bring up Brad?”
Her question was met with silence, and then Jazmine ventured, “Remember how you knew Uncle Adam might be stationed in Hawaii and you didn’t tell me?”
“Yes, but what’s that got to do with—” She hesitated and drew in her breath. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?” she demanded, aware that she was repeating Jazmine’s earlier question.
Her niece sighed dramatically. “Promise you won’t be mad.”
“Jazmine!”
“Okay, okay. Brad phoned again. I answered and I told him you’re seeing someone else now.”
“You didn’t!”
Jazmine giggled. “I did, and you don’t want to know what he said about that, either.”
Chapter Sixteen
“What do you mean Brad phoned?” Shana demanded. “When? And why?” Not that she cared. Okay, she did, but only a little. He’d talked to her once, a few weeks ago, and she’d been polite and stiff and frankly had never expected to hear from him again. At one time, she’d dreamed about a big wedding with lots of bridesmaids all dressed in lovely pastel dresses of pink and yellow. Her sister and three of her best friends would’ve looked like a neat row of huge after-dinner mints. At least she’d spared them that.
“He called last week and I answered the phone,” Jazmine muttered. “We…talked. For a while.”
That sounded ominous. Shana could only imagine what Brad had to say to her niece—and vice versa.
“He told me he wants you back.”
“Of course he does,” Shana muttered. That made sense. Now that she was out of his life, he missed everything she’d done for him.
“When he asked how your social life was these days—that’s exactly what he said—I told him about Uncle Adam and he wasn’t very happy,” Jazmine continued.
“No,” Shana agreed. “He probably wasn’t.” Just like Brad to pump a nine-year-old for information.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Jazmine muttered, “but I wanted Brad to know he lost out on the opportunity of a lifetime.”
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