West of Nowhere (25 page)

Skippy barked suddenly at the sound of Shep’s bedroom door opening, but then his tail flipped with excitement as the chair rolled into the living room.

With an unexpected feeling of reverence, Amber rose to her feet at the sight of his dark gray uniform, pants pinned neatly underneath his thighs, and a jacket adorned with ribbons and a gold braid at the shoulder. In his hand was a folded garrison cap with his Legion number on it.

She nodded toward Madison, who was sitting with her back to the living room. “Check out your grandpa Shep. He looks pretty doggone handsome.”

Madison leapt from her chair and into his lap. “I want to be in the parade too.”

“Sorry, pumpkin. This one’s just for veterans. You’ll have to wait until you grow up and join the navy.”

“I don’t want to be in the navy. I want to be in the marines. Their pants are blue with a long red stripe.”

“A jarhead, huh? Fine, but you better be nice to the sailors, or they’ll leave you hanging out there without any air support.”

“I could be in the air force.”

“I bet you can be anything you want,” Amber offered. The girl had no idea how lucky she was to be growing up in a house where she had noble role models like Shep and Joy.

Shep rolled his chair to the front window. “Any sign of Barbara?”

“She called while you were in the shower,” Amber explained. “She should be here any minute.”

The Veterans Day Parade was one of the biggest events in Alameda. Over a hundred thousand veterans, most of them navy, lived in the community, having spent much of their careers working at the now-closed Alameda Naval Air Station. Today’s events included a half-mile parade down Hornet Avenue followed by a program aboard the USS
Hornet
, a retired aircraft carrier that was now a National Historic Site. If the weather cooperated, they’d finish with a family picnic in Franklin Park. Amber had packed the cooler full of drinks, but Barbara was bringing lunch for all of them—fried chicken, potato salad and baked beans. It was almost enough to make Amber homesick for Nashville.

Shep twirled his chair toward the front door, with Madison still in his lap. “Let’s go out on the front porch and wait for Barbara.”

The sight of Shep in his American Legion uniform had triggered an unusual surge of patriotism for Amber. She always felt a mix of pride and sentiment when country musicians, including Gus Holley, sang tributes to the military. Soldiers and their families were more of a theme than a presence in the Nashville music circle, whereas Shep and Joy were the real deal.

The sacrifice Shep had made for his country was extraordinary, and even more profound because he’d allowed—encouraged, in fact—his daughter to follow in his dangerous footsteps. The Shepards lived their lives as though patriotic debt was the most important thing in the world. Amber didn’t exactly get that, but she nonetheless envied their conviction. She’d never believed in anything so grand.

“Everyone ready to go?”

The voice from the kitchen startled her and she whirled around, gasping at the sight of Joy in uniform. Her dark blue pants were perfectly creased down to the tops of her polished shoes, and her matching jacket draped from her broad shoulders. On her chest were three rows of colorful ribbons beneath impressive silver wings.

“Wow.”

“See something you like?”

“You look amazing. If you came to bed dressed like that, there’s no way I’d let you take it off.”

“Good to know.” Joy looked past her at the others on the porch before pulling her into an embrace. “I have to admit I was nervous about what you’d think.”

“Are you kidding? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Some people are weird about the military, like we’re all just a bunch of warmongers, so I couldn’t figure out where you came down. All you’ve ever said about it was how silly I was to iron my T-shirts.”

“There is that.” Amber traced her fingertips along the winged pin, which ironically read Air Warfare. “I’ve talked a lot with your pop about the navy. We went through that aircraft carrier book over there and he told me all about what it was like working on a ship. Notice I didn’t use the B-word.”

“There’s hope for you yet.”

Though both had tossed off a couple of frivolous lines, there was a far more serious undercurrent to what Amber was feeling. “I also asked him how he kept from worrying about you when you enlisted, especially when you took such a dangerous job. He said you were the kind of person he’d want out there on the carrier deck if he were there…and I knew exactly what he meant. I felt that way the night you showed up out of nowhere to save my sorry ass.”

Joy squeezed her and planted a kiss just above her ear. “You’re my damsel, Amber. I won’t ever let anything happen to you, not as long as you let me share your life.”

Wow, again. That sounded almost like some kind of proposal. “I’ll be your damsel, but I want to learn to take care of you too. And I want you to be proud of me.”

“I already am.”

Madison burst through the front door and hugged Joy possessively. “Barbara needs help with our picnic.”

“I’ll do it,” Amber said, disentangling from Joy’s arms. “Wouldn’t want you to get anything on that spiffy uniform.”

Joy nudged Madison to follow. “Go with her, honey. They could use your help. We’ll bring the car around front.”

“I want to stay with you and Grandpa Shep,” the girl whined.

Stooping to Madison’s eye-level, Joy cupped her chin and sternly repeated, “Go. Help.”

A few days ago, Madison would have pouted and sulked, but the talking-to she’d gotten from Joy over not listening seemed to have made a lasting impression. Compared to last week, she was almost cheerful.

Even more surprising was how she clung to Amber when they got to Barbara’s. Joy and Shep would always win Madison’s attention if they were anywhere near, but Amber liked knowing she might come in third under certain circumstances. They hauled a cooler and two grocery bags to the curb and waited for the car to emerge from the backyard. When it did, Amber was astonished to see Shep behind the wheel. “Oh, my gosh!”

Joy got out to help load the supplies into the trunk and directed Amber to take the front passenger seat. “I want you to watch how he does this.”

A bar with handgrips on both sides had been affixed to the steering column with wing nuts. It guided a pair of rods—one to the brake, the other to the accelerator—allowing Shep to steer with one hand and control the car’s speed with the other.

“I’m a little out of practice, so you guys better buckle up tight.”

Despite his warning, he drove so smoothly that Amber even closed her eyes to see if she could feel any difference between Shep and an able-bodied person. The very idea that he was anything but able-bodied was absurd. There was very little he couldn’t do for himself, and the fact that he now could drive officially meant he no longer needed her help.

She turned to look at Joy in the backseat. “Looks like it’s time for me to find a new job.”

Shep snorted. “Hey, you never know. Maybe someone else will fall ass over teakettle today.”

A veteran in an American Legion uniform like Shep’s was guiding cars into a vast parking lot near the start of the parade route, where they separated. Amber walked with Barbara and Madison to a sunny spot along the wide avenue leading to the port, where they spread out a small blanket and sat down to wait. It was twenty minutes before the sound of a marching band signaled the start of the festivities.

A color guard marched by first, bringing observers to their feet. Veterans in the crowd saluted, and Amber copied Barbara by placing her hand over her heart. Behind the flag bearers, an active duty detail of young sailors marched in a smart, clipped formation, most dressed in dark blue uniforms with wide collars and square-knotted ties. The handful of women in the group wore uniforms like Joy’s.

The band, which turned out to be from a local high school, whipped up the crowd with a rousing “Anchors Aweigh” just ahead of the Grand Marshal, a retired
female
admiral, Amber noted proudly. The cheers that erupted as her convertible Humvee rode past swelled Amber with gender pride, and she couldn’t resist pointing the woman out to Madison. “That could be you one of these days.”

The crowd enthusiastically hailed the first float, a decorated flatbed truck that held a couple of dozen World War II veterans who waved tiny American flags and tossed candy to the children. Amber made sure Madison got some, but gripped her jacket like a tether to keep her from wandering too far into the street.

One after another, veterans groups filed past, most in uniform like Joy and Shep, but some wearing civilian clothes. Banners, flags and bill caps identified the various campaigns—Korea…Vietnam…Desert Storm.

“Here comes Grandpa Shep!” Madison yelled excitedly.

All of the veterans in his group, American Legion Post 9, wore the same garrison cap, if not the entire uniform. He smiled their way as he rolled his chair proudly by. “Hope you brought the Goobers!” he shouted.

There were only a few more groups to come. The USO…the Red Cross. Where was Joy?

Then the largest contingent of the day came into view to thunderous cheers, a group of comparatively young men and women marching behind the unified banner of Operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom. The sight of several wheelchairs clustered near the front sent a shudder through Amber as she thought again of Joy’s dangerous duties. The group’s uniforms ran the gamut from Marine Corps dress blues to khakis to the blue camouflage work suits like those Joy said they wore on the ship. Amber spotted her right away about halfway back, thanks to her white peaked cap.

As Joy walked past, she dropped her otherwise somber demeanor to wink at Amber and wave to Madison.

The final group was a Junior ROTC program from the same high school that provided the band. Their lines were as straight as those of the active duty sailors, and their steps as crisp.

All around Amber, people were folding their chairs and dispersing, some back toward the parking lot and others in the direction of the massive aircraft carrier docked at the end of the street. She wondered if any of them were feeling the same emotions as she. There was certainly pride and gratitude, but for her, the most remarkable impression left by the array of soldiers—past, present and future—was admiration and respect.

For the first time, she realized it was the foundation of her love for Joy, and though she’d been put off earlier by her rigid, compulsive nature, it was clear Joy’s self-discipline was what had made her able to perform the dangerous job she’d had in the navy. Shep was right—she was exactly the person you’d want around if you had to depend on someone.

* * *

Joy and her pop waited near the gangway to the USS
Hornet
as the program spectators filed in from the parade route. “I just realized something,” she said. “When Amber gets here, I can walk aboard with her holding my arm just like all these other people. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Anybody gives you any shit, send them to me. I’ll kick their ass.”

“With what?” she asked with a chuckle. “You know, I’ve done this parade four years in a row, and I realize what makes it special isn’t marching with all the others. It’s having somebody in the crowd watch for me to go by.”

“I know what you mean. I always got excited when I knew you and your mom were somewhere up ahead waiting for me. I got that little thrill again today.”

“From Madison or Barbara?”

The arrival of their party saved him from having to answer, but the smile on his face was enough to confirm it could have been either.

“What took you guys so long?” Joy asked. “We’ll probably have to stand in the back.”

Amber chucked her father’s shoulder. “You okay with that?”

“Good one! How about hauling me up the gangway? I’m worn out, and I have to save something for the sack races at the picnic.”

Joy could hardly contain her pride as they pushed the wheelchair aboard ship. It was obvious Amber was awed by the sheer enormity of the massive gray deck.

“I can’t believe this monstrosity actually floats.”

“This one’s just an
Essex
class. The
Nimitz
carriers like the
Teddy Roosevelt
are even bigger.”

Amber looked in every direction, shaking her head. “Remind me never to take you on a tour of any of the places I used to work. Trust me, no one wants to see the back end of a Taco Loco.”

Madison squirmed between them and took Joy’s hand. “I’ve changed my mind again. I want to be in the navy like you and Grandpa Shep.”

“That’s my girl,” Joy said. “Where did your grandpa go?”

“He’s with Barbara.” She pointed to chairs in front of a speaker’s platform, where Barbara sat at the end of a row beside the wheelchair. “Let’s go sit down.”

Though Joy relished the opportunity to show off the ship’s grandeur to Amber, she didn’t want to make Madison feel left out. “Amber and I are going to stand in the back and let some of the others have the chairs. You can stand with us, or you can go sit with Grandpa Shep, but whatever you do, you have to stay there until the program’s over, and you have to be still and quiet.”

The prospect of sitting won out, probably because Madison knew she’d get away with more fidgeting if she sat with her grandpa.

Joy hooked Amber’s arm through hers again and nodded silently toward two women on the back row who had turned to smile. It was clear they too were a couple, and were also celebrating perhaps their first chance to wear the uniform of their country without having to hide their love for one another. Amber had no idea what profound freedom Joy felt from being able to do that.

After the invocation, Amber’s fingers suddenly tightened around her forearm, and she leaned in to whisper, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. What did I do?”

“This…nine years of it. I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked a veteran before.” Her voice quivered and she wiped the corners of her eyes with her fingertips.

Joy was too moved to answer, afraid she too would be overcome with emotion. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how important it was that Amber truly respected who she was, and what she’d done with her life.