Undetected (27 page)

Mark finished the drink. Bryce got to his feet, motioned for the glass Mark held. “Refills coming up. What time are Mom and Dad expecting you?”

“Five.”

“Charlotte's going to come out here with her sketchbook and capture your pretty face before you leave, so Mom can have another of her missing boys on the family wall.”

Mark wanted to wince, but didn't. It sounded nearly as bad as having his picture taken. “Do I have to do anything?”

Bryce laughed. “Charlotte hates when people pose. Talk to her about Gina—that will put a smile on your face, and on hers.”

Mark arrived five minutes early at his parents' home, with Charlotte's sketch, neatly framed for his mother, carefully
held under his arm. It had taken Charlotte considerably longer to frame the sketch than to make the drawing. It was an extraordinary likeness, he had to admit. Mark hoped for the day he could get Charlotte and Gina in the same room and get a sketch of Gina.

The conversation with his parents flowed easily throughout dinner, catching up on his sisters and their kids, events of the last six months in his parents' lives, their questions about his crew and deployments. He shared what he could, appreciating their interest. It was good to be home. Mark had forgotten how much he enjoyed simply listening to his mom's laughter. After dinner, Mark settled on the back patio with his father for a more serious conversation.

He couldn't ask Gina to wait, to give him a chance, without offering a reason. Refit and a 90-day patrol was too long a time to leave things as they stood now. Mark looked over at his father and opened the conversation where his own thoughts had ended. “I'm considering asking a woman considerably younger than I am to marry me.”

His dad leaned forward to set aside his coffee, but said nothing, simply nodded for Mark to continue.

“I've known Gina Gray for seven years, almost eight now. Her brother is a good friend of mine. Circumstances are . . . rushed, I guess. I'm going away on patrol for three months. If I don't say something, she could very well be engaged when I get back.”

“She's seeing someone else?”

“It's . . . complicated.”

“When has your life not been, son?”

Mark smiled at his dad's remark. “Worse than normal this time, Dad. Not her fault. I even approved when she was
first introduced to this guy, then later I changed my mind and realized I was interested myself.”

“At least you were smart enough to recognize it. Why Gina?”

“I love her smile. I love her laughter. I am in awe of the way she discovers simple but genius things.” Mark thought about her, wishing he had the right words to explain. “She wants a husband. I've been in that role. I could be a good one again. I want a wife. I want someone to share my life with—my faith, my house, my time, and my dreams. I want someone to be there when I come home, who wants to hear about my day. I want to hear about her day. And she'd be my first choice.”

“Put the time pressure aside for the moment. If you were not going to sea for three months, if you were staying ashore, what would you want right now?”

“Time for her to get to know me.”

“Not time for you to get to know her?”

“I know her, Dad. I know her life story, what she's like. What she's already accomplished leaves me in awe. There are more layers, sure, there is always more to learn—but I do know her. She doesn't have much self-confidence, and she has a tendency to over-think everything to death. She's too eager to please for her own good. But some of that is her youth, and a lot is the current situation. Everything else is the kind of mix I would love to have in a lady. Time with her is a joy. You'd like her, Dad. Mom would too.”

“I'm sure we would. You're a good judge of people, Mark. And nothing I'm about to say should be considered a negative reflection on those two statements.” His father leaned forward and linked his hands together between his knees. “I remember well when you sat at the kitchen table and told
your mother and me you were going to ask Melinda to marry you. You were nervous and confident at the same time, and so eager to get those words said that very night—so she'd say yes and you could start planning the wedding—that you had to leave immediately to find her just as soon as you told us your plans. I know that was then and this is now, but I'm not hearing that eager joy in your voice, in your words. I'm hearing a man searching to find a solution to the fact his job is going to mean there's a separation coming. A man backing himself into a marriage proposal as the answer to that problem.”

“Not because I'm reluctant, Dad. Because I'm scared down to my bones I'll get one chance with Gina, and it's coming too early. We've barely been on what you would consider a traditional date to this point. I haven't told her I love her.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” Mark didn't hesitate to say it, thought about it, and added a nod. “It's a different emotion than with Melinda, but it's solid and deep. I wake up wondering what she's doing, and hope she's having a good day, and create reasons for our paths to cross. I'm emotionally invested in her in a way I haven't been with anyone since Melinda. I do love her, Dad.”

“Whatever the two of you decide now, the separation is still coming, and she might change her mind. You might change yours.”

“I won't change mine, and I understand 90 days will mean a lot of time for second thoughts. But if I say nothing, there's a good chance she'll get engaged to Daniel. Even if it means blundering badly, the risk if I say nothing is too great.”

“Then ask.” His dad placed a hand over his son's. “Mark, you'll have my blessing and that of your mother. You'll give
your heart with those words, and we'll pray her answer is what's best for the both of you. Just be prepared to accept either response with grace. The situation you describe will be difficult for her. She's not going to want to hurt either of you. And she's going to have to hurt one of you.”

Mark felt his heart hesitate a beat as his dad's words sank in. He was going to put Gina in a position to hurt either himself or Daniel, and the way she had felt rejection personally in the past, she would move heaven and earth not to do that to someone else. He sighed and shook his head. “You're right. But I still have to ask.”

His father smiled. “You love her, son. I don't doubt that. And in a few years you'll be glad you asked her even if she tells you no. It's good to see you loving someone again. Your mother will be especially pleased.”

“I need for Gina to say yes.”

“Ask. Then give her some time before you expect an answer.”

His flight was scheduled for two p.m. Mark Bishop walked up the front sidewalk to Gina's Chicago home shortly after ten a.m. Arms full, he leaned an elbow against the doorbell, heard footsteps on the hardwood floors. The door opened, and Gina stood in front of him—better rested, in a light-green T-shirt and jeans, white socks on her feet, with damp hair still curling around her face.

“Hi, Mark. What on earth—?”

“These are for you,” he said, shifting what he held. Two very wiggly kittens were trying to climb the cotton of his shirt. “You're not a cat person, and these are only on loan,
but they will be good company for a couple of weeks. I would have brought you puppies, but they were impossible to catch.”

She took the black furry kitten, then eased the chocolate brown one into her other arm. She started laughing. “Where did you find them?”

“My sister's drowning in seven kittens and five puppies. She'll locate homes for all of them, but it's going to take a few weeks. These two are drinking milk and eating soft kitten chow, generally well behaved and hungry for attention. So I borrowed them for you.”

She grinned. “What are their names?”

“Trouble and Double Trouble. They didn't want to stay in the box for the drive over here.”

Gina laughed.

“Go on in with them, and I'll get their stuff from the car.”

Mark returned to the vehicle, hauled out the large box that would serve as a bed for the kittens at night. Gina's smile and laughter had helped ease the worry he'd felt about this being a good idea or not. He didn't want to leave Chicago, leaving her alone, not after dropping the bombshell he had planned. He wanted something that she would find to be a comfort. Kittens would at least be a distraction when her churning thoughts wouldn't let her sleep.

He settled in the living room with Gina, playing with the kittens, watching them explore the room. Gina was stretched out on the rug, using a feather duster as a toy for them to chase. The kittens started climbing on her jeans, trying to balance themselves on her knees to look around.

“I would guess from seeing these two that you've now caught up with all your family?” Gina asked.

“I spent a few hours with Bryce and Charlotte, had dinner with my parents, stopped by both sisters this morning, and doubled up on breakfast. How have your last 24 hours been?”

“I unpacked the boxes Jeff sent from Boulder, did laundry, turned in early, slept late. I loved every minute of it. I was pouring a bowl of cereal for a late breakfast when you rang the bell.”

“You look rested, for the first time in a long while.”

“Give me a week of sleeping in and I'll start to look lazy.” She scooped up a kitten. “These two are adorable.”

“My sister's number is on the card, and she'll come pick them up without any questions being asked should this gift turn out to be not so adorable. Otherwise expect her to call and say she's found permanent homes for them sometime within the next month. The shelter passes on pregnant cats to her for a month or two of home care, so the kittens are born with safer birth weights. They have a better chance of being placed if they've been played with in the first months of their lives.”

“I think I can manage these two for a couple of weeks. What made you think of bringing me them?”

“My young niece was carrying a kitten around in her pocket, wanting to know if she could take it to school for show and tell. It had become her new best friend and was going everywhere with her. If a kitten is good for a little girl, I figured two kittens would be good for a grown-up girl.”

Gina smiled at his words, looked down at the two. “You're probably right.”

Mark kept the conversation casual until shortly before he had to leave to make his flight. Gina was fixing tea for
herself after making coffee for him. One kitten was playing with her sock foot. The other was now under the kitchen table, chasing a sunbeam that came and disappeared as the sun occasionally slipped behind a cloud.

“Gina, I need to ask you something.”

“Sure.” She turned toward him with a smile, setting aside the spoon for stirring sugar into her tea. His serious expression registered, and her smile hesitated.

“Please don't get engaged while I'm on patrol,” he said. “Please give me a chance to show you why I would make a good husband for you.”

“Husband . . .” she breathed, her eyes wide.

“I would like you to marry me, Gina.”

She paled, and her fingers tightened on the mug. She very carefully nudged aside the kitten so she could steady her balance.

“Not something you expected to hear?”

“No,” she whispered, looking very shaken.

“I would like very much to marry you. I want you as my wife. I love your smile. I love your mind. You've awakened feelings in me that I thought were long buried—tenderness and concern, protectiveness and passion, pride and joy. I watch for you to enter a room, and I can't stop my smile when I see you.” He eased his arms around her as he spoke. “I love you, Gina. It would be my ideal future if I could wake up with you beside me for the rest of my life.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Love me back,” he whispered. “I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife.”

“Mark, I—”

He didn't let her finish. “Would you think about it while I'm deployed and give us a chance to talk when I'm back
from patrol? Will you grant me time I don't deserve but desperately need?”