A Time to Surrender (23 page)

In his dreams.

Jenna had met them before the guys left. She had names and phone numbers. She had even spoken on occasion with Miranda or one of the others, most often to turn down an invitation to a potluck. No, Jenna did not have the slightest interest in spending time with Marine wives.

Until now.

Jenna’s cell phone rang. She pulled it from her bag and checked the ID. Amber’s husband’s name and number showed. She had programmed it in days before.

“It’s Joey,” she announced.

A silent glance went around the group, then a shared nod in her direction. She had told them all about the bombing and about a Navy SEAL whose wife lay in the hospital. It didn’t matter that they’d never met or even heard of Joey and Amber Ames. They connected the instant they learned the story. Looking at their faces now was like looking at one big heart that beat visibly with compassion.

Jenna left the table, answering the phone as she strode to the exit. Although they were all eager to hear news about Amber, she wanted to receive it in private.

Not counting the dried fig of a fisherman.

She went outside, moving toward the rail, not far from him. “Joey?”

“She’s awake.”

Jenna yelped. “And?”

“And she’s fine. She’s fine. Just fine.”

Jenna heard the tears in Joey’s voice and imagined the guy she had met at the hospital. It took some effort to match this soft side to his bricklike, compact build. He reminded her of the hero action figures her brothers played with as kids, complete with colorless slits for eyes. If Amber didn’t adore her husband, Jenna could have easily avoided him.

But he cried. The ocean blurred before her now. She looked down at the wooden rail, gave up finding a spot clear of bird and fish droppings, and put her elbows on it. “Oh.” The word came out as one long sigh.

Joey chuckled. “Yeah. There’s not much else to say.”

“My grandmother would say, ‘God is good.’”

“I think Amber would too.”

“She hasn’t yet?”

“I guess she has, in her own way.”

“When can I see her?”

“She’s pretty weak, but you know her. She’ll be bouncing around in no time. The doctor wants to keep her here a couple more days anyway, with only me and her parents allowed to visit, but you can come tomorrow afternoon. That one nurse and Amber think you’re family.”

“I talked to my mom about you two staying up at the Hideaway. There’s a room for you anytime during the weekdays.”

It had been Jenna’s idea that Amber and Joey spend a few days up in the hills, pampered by her mom and grandmother, feasting on Skylar’s cooking. Her mom loved the plan.

He said, “My in-laws will stay until the end of next week. Maybe the week after?”

“Whatever works. How long . . .” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to know the answer yet.

Joey supplied it anyway. “A month. Now that she’s awake, they’ll give me a month here.”

A month. What she wouldn’t do to have Kevin beside her for a month! A week, even. The good-bye agony would be worth it.

Joey said, “I need to ask a favor. Would you mind letting your principal know what’s going on?”

Call Cade? “Of course I wouldn’t mind. Let me take care of school-related issues for you. She’ll want to know who her sub is.”

“Thanks, Jenna. Amber always says you’re the greatest.”

She looked down at her forearm suspended fifty feet above the ocean. Her sleeve inched up, revealing some of the stitches. They would come out next week, but the mark would still be visible.

She thought about the night at the hospital.

You’re the greatest.

Yeah, right. Amber might think Cade was hot, but she sure wouldn’t be happy about her friend turning the fantasy into real life.

A
fter talking with Joey, Jenna debated whether to share his good news first with the women inside the diner or Cade.

That decision took about ten seconds.

As she hit the speed dial number for the high school, the old fisherman moved closer, smiling and nodding. Startled, she canceled the call.

The man smoothed a towel across the top of the rail, pointed first at his elbows and then at the cloth.

She returned his smile. The towel appeared as grimy as the rail, but at least it would prevent snagging her blouse. She stepped over and rested her elbows on it. “Thank you.”

His kindness touched her. The kindness of her new acquaintances—Amber, Joey, Beth Russell, the women inside—touched her. It was Beth’s words about camaraderie with other wives and Amber’s belief about just doing what was expected as a military wife that kept Jenna going. Those things would keep her treading water. No matter how fast her feet spun, though, her head would not remain above water except for the kindness that Cade offered. It gave hope like a gulp of air to a drowning person.

She needed them all. Was that God at work? Providing others to ease her journey? The stranger on the pier, Amber and Joey, the women who shared her same day-to-day fears, and Cade who centered her. Each and every one a gift.

It was Friday, a school day. Cade was busy, most likely not even in his office. She should leave a message with his secretary.

She glanced at her arm again.

And then she dialed his cell phone number from memory.

He answered immediately. “Jenna.”

At the sound of his calm voice, she closed her eyes. “Hey. Guess what. Joey Ames just called. Amber woke up and she’s fine!”

He laughed. “That’s great news.”

They chatted. She told him everything Joey had told her.

She told him where she was, what she was doing.

Then she told him about her favorite Italian restaurant where she planned to eat dinner that evening by herself at seven o’clock in celebration of Amber’s recovery.

And then she told him good-bye.

J
enna smiled at Cade, wondering if it was the candlelight or pasta carbs that had softened the ice in his eyes.

“I’m ready to come back on Monday,” she said.

“Don’t hesitate to change your mind. Sarah’s on standby.”

“Okay, but I’m fine.”

He gave her a concerned look.

“I am! Now that Amber’s okay, I’m okay.”

“Besides that, you’re a control freak when it comes to lit lessons.”

She laughed.

He grinned.

It was easy to laugh with him, to let go. She was so glad he had shown up at the restaurant.

He had come in after she was seated, Mr. Ice Man’s persona evident on his face and in the set of his shoulders. It took awhile for him to relax. No matter. She basked in the reality of him, his masculinity, his kindness in giving her his free time, his concern about her well-being in the classroom.

“Jenna, I need to say something.”

“The answer is no. This chocolate gelato is all mine. You could have ordered your own.” She put a spoonful in her mouth.

He shook his head, his expression an unfamiliar one. It seemed almost vulnerable. “Seriously. It’s why I came tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know how enchanting you are?”

She set down her spoon.

“I consider myself a fairly well-disciplined guy. The other night, emotions dismantled that belief. However, I know that under normal circumstances when two of my best teachers aren’t hurt in a domestic terrorist attack, I’m still a well-disciplined guy. But I have to admit, I am fast approaching a line here.” He leaned forward. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Jenna swallowed with difficulty. The taste of chocolate was thick on her tongue, the ice cream cold in her throat.

She wanted Cade Edmunds to take Kevin’s place, pure and simple. That was ridiculous, but that was exactly what she—total princess that she was—wanted. Simply put, life was easier when Kevin was around.

She masked her response by taking a stab at one of the many rumors surrounding the mysterious Cade Edmunds. “Maybe you could tell me about your girlfriend.”

Cade’s jaw muscles worked as if he held in a reply.

She realized he would never say it until she spoke to his question. “After lunch today, I walked home with Miranda—the one I told you about.”

He gave a slight nod.

“She lives in town, not far from the pier. Two doors from her house she spotted a black car parked at the curb. It practically screamed ‘military.’ She sat down, right then and there, on the sidewalk. She could hardly breathe.” Jenna’s voice caught at the memory.

“Miranda thought they’d come to tell her that her husband had been killed.”

Jenna nodded. “I sat down with her, on the concrete. We both cried and cried, even though we could see the car was empty and we knew that they certainly wouldn’t be waiting inside with her babysitter and kids.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I just . . . I just . . .” She wiped beneath her eyes. “Things don’t hurt so much when I’m with you. Life isn’t scary. I’m sorry. Today I couldn’t get a handle on it. Amber’s development is so good but so draining. I’m sorry. That’s just the way it is. Just the way I am.”

Cade reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “I can’t take his place.”

“I know,” she whispered and looked down. He rubbed his thumb gently across the back of her hand. She focused on it until, after a time the sharp edges of fear and pain dulled.

Cade muttered something, his words indecipherable.

She looked up at him, questioning.

He shook his head. He was not going to repeat it.

Jenna thought she heard,
I do not understand how he left you.

Maybe she heard wrong.

Forty-two

F
ive weeks passed after the anniversary of the fire. Through September and into late October, Claire felt life settle into a new routine, a pleasant one full of running a retreat center. Guests multiplied, eager to enjoy the prerainy season. Skylar grew more and more indispensable. Danny’s visits increased, but his bugging of Skylar lessened.

The only abnormal activity revolved around helping Max pack for a trip to Vietnam. Now the day of departure had arrived.

Claire melted into Max’s embrace. His chest muffled her voice. “I’m trying not to have second thoughts.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, me too.”

“It’s already tomorrow in Vietnam. I can’t fathom that you’ll be in another day . . .” She stopped speaking the lines they’d already said over and over too many times. Still though, the anxious thoughts circled in her mind.

How could she handle a separation of this magnitude? Since before Thanksgiving almost a year ago they hadn’t spent a night apart. In the past, Max had traveled fairly often on business but never overseas. But it wasn’t only the physical aspect that disturbed her. Just the simple anticipation of his absence triggered old resentments of how often he was gone, if only at the office.

She groaned. Already the battle had frazzled her nerves.

They stood in silence for a long moment, locked in each other’s arms, blotting out the surrounding hubbub.

Most of the family had gathered in the parking area to send off the travelers. Erik and Rosie wore chauffeur hats, white shirts, black ties, and slacks. They’d borrowed a friend’s limo and were driving Ben, Tuyen, and Max to the airport in style. Lexi and Skylar had baked cookies and created elaborate snacks that they now tucked into the carry-on bags.

Not everyone was there. Danny hadn’t driven up for the send-off but planned to see them at the airport. Jenna didn’t want to miss any more school activities and had said her good-byes the previous evening.

“Ma’am.” Erik rumbled loudly at Claire’s ear. “Sir. We simply must get this show on the road. Hugging time officially ended five minutes ago. Buck up now. All is well that ends well.”

Max released her and grinned. “And this is all about ending well. Right, sweetheart?”

His face blurred. Yes, it was all about that.
Say good-bye to BJ. Comfort your father. Love on your brother’s child.

And come home soon.

C
laire snapped shut the violin case and glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time that night. Or morning now, technically speaking. One-thirty Tuesday morning. Max, Ben, and Tuyen were somewhere over the Pacific Ocean.

Yawning, she combed her fingers through her hair, tired but nowhere near ready for bed.

Max had called from Los Angeles. He would not call again until they reached Hong Kong, the last stop before Ho Chi Minh City. That would not happen until after lunchtime. Why was she still awake, as if waiting for something to happen?

Easy: anxiety about their trip. A stomach bloated due to her ingestion of half a bag of tortilla chips, half a carton of salsa, and a few cookies. Okay, six cookies. Loneliness because Indio, Lexi, and Skylar had better things to do than sit with her. Fear at the thought that the four of them, although within close proximity of each other, were divided by pitch blackness and howling coyotes. And last but not least, a throat raw from a crying jag over Max’s absence.

She sat down in the kitchen’s rocking chair beside Indio’s wall of crosses. Strands of a Bach piece still hummed in her mind. When was the last time she had played to her heart’s content as she had tonight?

Another easy one: when she and Max had been separated last year, on the verge of divorce, she had played often and to her heart’s content.

“Ouch.”

She set the rocking chair in motion.

“Why is that, Lord? He likes to hear me play.”

I still hold back.

“Nah.”

Yeah.

Tears burned again. “I have to sleep. I have a full week getting ready for guests. I don’t want to think about this.”

The thing was, she missed Max so much already. They had so much time to make up, time lost because they had traveled different paths for a long time. “Lord, we’re just getting together. Getting it together. Why this major thing for him right now at this time? Why did he have to go away, and so far?”

I know the plans that I have for you.
It was her voice still, but she recognized it was not a thought of her own making.

God knew what He was doing. God knew everything that concerned her.

She dabbed at her eyes with a sweatshirt sleeve. “I’m listening.”