Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set: Navy WifeNavy BluesNavy BratNavy WomanNavy BabyNavy Husband

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Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set: Navy WifeNavy BluesNavy BratNavy WomanNavy BabyNavy Husband Page 111

by Debbie Macomber


  “She’d phone,” Adam said, and hoped she would.

  At three minutes after eight, Shana walked into the house. “I’m home,” she said unnecessarily.

  Adam stood and Jazmine hurried eagerly out of the kitchen. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Famished,” she said.

  As if on cue, Adam’s stomach growled.

  With a sweeping gesture of her arm, Jazmine invited them into the kitchen. The table was covered with a tablecloth twice the right size. The cloth brushed the floor, and Adam wondered if she’d used a floral printed sheet. The candles were stuck in empty Coke bottles—apparently she hadn’t found real candle-holders—and were positioned on either side of the roses, which she’d arranged in a glass bowl. The effect was surprisingly artful. There were place settings, including wine goblets, in front of the three chairs.

  “Jazmine!” Shana exclaimed, hugging her niece. “This is absolutely lovely.”

  The nine-year-old blushed at the praise and wiped her hands on her apron. “Uncle Adam helped.”

  “Not much,” Adam protested.

  “We can start now,” she said with authority. “Please light the candles and pour the champagne. I’m having soda in my glass.”

  He bowed slightly. “At your service.”

  “Everyone, sit down,” Jazmine ordered when he’d finished. She gestured toward the table. “I have an appetizer.” Following that announcement, she brought out a bowl of dry Cheerios mixed with peanuts, raisins and pretzels.

  “Excellent,” Shana said, exchanging a look with Adam. They both struggled to maintain their composure.

  “This is only the start,” Jazmine promised, flitting about the kitchen like a parrot on the loose. “I made all our favorites—macaroni and cheese, Tater Tots and salad. Uncle Adam, there’s no tomatoes in your salad and, Aunt Shana, no croutons on yours.”

  Shana’s eyes met Adam’s. “She’s paying attention.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “Plus macaroons for dessert,” Jazmine added proudly.

  “Macaroons?” Adam repeated.

  Jazmine removed the bowl of Cheerios. “Yes, chocolate macaroons. Those are my favorites, so no complaining.”

  It was an odd meal, but Adam had no complaints and neither, apparently, did Shana.

  “We’ll do the dishes,” he said when they’d eaten. The champagne had relaxed him and Shana, too, because they lingered over the last glass while Jazmine moved into the living room.

  “This really was sweet of her,” Shana whispered.

  “Very sweet,” Adam agreed. What happened next, he blamed on the champagne. Before he could question the wisdom of it, he leaned close to Shana, intending to kiss her.

  She could’ve stopped him, but didn’t. Instead she shut her eyes and leaned toward him, too. The kiss was every bit as good as their first one. No, it was better, Adam decided. In fact, her kisses could fast become addictive—a risk he’d just have to take. He brought his chair closer to Shana’s and she gripped his shirt collar as they kissed again.

  She pulled away sometime later and pressed her forehead against his. It took him a moment to find his focus. He savored having her close, enjoyed her scent and the way she felt. Jazmine might see them, but he didn’t care as long as Shana didn’t—and obviously she didn’t.

  “You two need help in there?” Jazmine called from the living room.

  Like guilty teenagers, Shana and Adam broke apart. “We’re fine,” Shana answered.

  Adam wasn’t so sure that was true.

  Sent: July 6

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: My plan is working

  Dear Mom,

  I cooked dinner all by myself! You know what I like best about Uncle Adam? He doesn’t treat me like a kid. He spent Saturday afternoon with me because Aunt Shana was at the ice-cream parlor and when I told him I was going to cook dinner, he let me. He even went to the store and left me by myself. I don’t need a babysitter anymore.

  When he got back, he said Aunt Shana was upset with him for leaving me all alone, but nothing happened. I made macaroni and cheese in the microwave and baked Tater Tots and made a salad. It turned out really good, and guess what?

  Uncle Adam and Aunt Shana kissed again, and they didn’t even care that I could see them. I pretended I didn’t, but I really did. They said they wanted to wash the dishes and it took them more than an hour. Miss you bunches and bunches.

  Love,

  Jazmine

  Chapter Fourteen

  If Ali had been at home instead of aboard the USS Woodrow Wilson, she would’ve turned to her favorite comfort food: cookie dough. It was that kind of day. Yes, she knew she shouldn’t eat raw eggs. But when she reached this point—of being prepared to scarf down a bowl of unbaked cookies—salmonella seemed the least of her worries. Those ice-cream manufacturers knew what they were doing when they introduced cookie dough as a flavor. That, in her opinion, was the ultimate comfort food.

  What had upsetAli, or rather who, was none other than Commander Frank Dillon. After managing fairly successfully to keep him out of her thoughts, he was back—not only in her thoughts, but unfortunately, in sick bay.

  Earlier in the day he’d returned with a raging fever and an infection. Infection was the biggest risk with a ruptured appendix, and he hadn’t been spared this complication. Ali was worried when she saw that his temperature was nearly 103 degrees. Furious, she’d asked why he hadn’t come in earlier.

  He’d refused to answer, but insisted that all he needed was a shot, and that once she’d given it to him, he could go back to his duties as navigator. When she told him Captain Coleman had ordered antibiotics via IV, he seemed to blame her personally. In his anger and frustration, he’d lashed out at her once again and questioned her competence.

  As soon as he was hooked up to the antibiotics, and relatively free of pain, he slept for the remainder of her shift. Before leaving, she’d checked on him, taking his temperature, which had fallen to just over 100 degrees.

  She felt both irritated and sad. Irritated that he’d delayed seeking medical attention. And sad because she suspected she might be the reason he’d stayed away. According to his own comments, he wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn’t help wondering if that was because of her wedding ring—and yet how could it be? She’d removed it from her left hand.

  Anytime he’d so much as glanced in her direction this afternoon, he’d scowled as if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room. That was ridiculous. Ali hadn’t done anything to deserve this wrath. After all, he was the one who’d sent her an e-mail thanking her for the excellent care. But from the way he regarded her now, anyone might think she’d attempted to amputate his leg while he wasn’t looking. She tried not to dwell on the things he’d said to her, either today or during his first hospitalization, but she couldn’t help that her feelings were hurt. She’d misread the situation and now he was back and not happy about it, either.

  Frank didn’t understand or recognize how serious this infection was. With a fever that high, he must’ve been terribly sick. Damn, he should never have waited this long!

  Sent: July 7

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Subject: It’s cookie time!!

  Dear Shana,

  I’m tired and I want to come home. I sound like a crybaby but I don’t care. The day has been long and awful, and if I was home right now I’d have the mixer going, blending sugar and flour and eggs with oatmeal and raisins. Yup, it’s one of those days.

  How are things with Jazmine? I need some news to cheer me up. Got anything wonderful to tell me? How’s Adam? Any news about the transfer?

  Love,

  Alison

  * * *

  It wasn’t long before she received a reply.

  Sent: July 9

  From: [email protected]

  To: Alison.Karas@woo
drowwilson.navy.mil

  Subject: Fireworks and all

  Dear Alison,

  My goodness, what’s happening? I haven’t heard you sound so down in ages. When you start talking about cookie dough, I know there’s got to be a man involved. I figure this must have something to do with that commander you mentioned. I thought you said you wouldn’t be seeing him again. But apparently you have and it didn’t go well. Tell all!

  Jazmine is fabulous, but the truth is, I had a miserable day myself. I worked from dawn to dusk, and financially it was my best business day ever, so I should be happy, right? I wasn’t. I wanted to be with Jazmine and Adam, who were off at a community fair while I was stuck at the ice-cream parlor.

  I can’t even begin to tell you how much work is involved in owning a business like this. Catherine was the only employee willing to work this weekend and thankfully, her husband came in to lend a hand. I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise. I really hated not being with Adam and Jazmine. They must’ve known it, because they showed up to collect me the minute I closed for the night. I didn’t have time to change my clothes or anything. Adam drove to a hilltop where we had a picnic, even though it was almost dark. Adam had bought deli sandwiches and salads. By the time we arrived home, it was after eleven. I’m afraid I was exhausted and not much fun. Sometimes I wonder if buying this business was the wisest choice, but it’s too late to think about that now.

  Write soon.

  Love,

  Shana

  * * *

  Alison read her sister’s e-mail and tried to translate the message between the lines. Like Alison, Shana was tired. According to Jazmine, she worked long hours, starting early in the morning when she mixed the pizza dough and set it out to rise. She usually stayed until closing, which meant she often wasn’t home until after nine. Thankfully her sister had had the wherewithal to hire Catherine, who’d quickly become indispensable. Her other employees, mostly high-school kids, didn’t seem all that reliable, but at least she had them.

  Adam was spending a lot of time with Jazmine, and Alison knew very well that her daughter wasn’t the only draw. He and Shana were definitely getting along, and that thrilled her. But if Adam was transferred to Hawaii, that might be the end of their relationship. Still, Alison couldn’t worry about that when she had troubles of her own.

  Fortunately, she had Lieutenant Rowland to talk to. He was waiting for her when she reported for duty the next afternoon.

  “How’s the beast doing?” she asked in a stage whisper. Compared to the commander, their other patients were downright jovial.

  Jordan’s responding grimace answered her question. “Same. Bad-tempered as ever.”

  “Oh, great.”

  Rowland rolled his eyes. “He’s certainly got a burr under his saddle—and I think I know why.”

  Alison did, too. “He hates being sick.” No one enjoyed it, but the commander was worse than most. He resented every minute away from his duty station. What he didn’t realize was that he wouldn’t be released anytime soon. She wasn’t going to be the one to tell him, either.

  “His problem,” Rowland said with an air of superiority, “appears to be you.”

  “Me?” she protested, flustered that Frank’s ranting from the day before had obviously continued.

  “He asked me to keep you away from him.”

  Alison’s face burned with mortification. “What did you tell him?” she asked, her voice indignant despite her efforts.

  Rowland’s smile lacked humor. “That the United States Navy was fortunate to have you, and if he has a problem he should take it up with Captain Coleman.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and swallowed a painful knot of gratitude.

  “The mighty commander didn’t have anything to say after that.”

  “Good.” Her anger simmering just below the surface, Alison squared her shoulders. “I think it’s time I faced the beast on my own.”

  Rowland’s dark eyes flared. “I don’t know if I’d advise that.”

  Alison was past accepting her friend’s advice. If Frank Dillon had even a clue what she was thinking, she’d likely be up for court-martial.

  Before common sense and what remained of her Navy career could stop her, she tore back the curtain to his cubicle and confronted the commander. Although he appeared to be sleeping, he must have heard her because his eyes fluttered open.

  “I understand you requested not to be under my care.”

  He blinked, and Alison was shocked to see that he refused to look at her. “You heard right.”

  “That’s fine with me, Commander. As far as I’m concerned, you’re cantankerous and impatient and rude and…and more.”

  Barely controlled anger showed in the tight set of his mouth. No one with any desire to advance in the Navy spoke to a senior officer the way Alison just had.

  “What’s the matter, Commander, no comment?” Feet braced apart, she gave him a defiant glare.

  “It would be best if you left now,” he muttered.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He frowned as if he’d rarely been challenged, but Alison was beyond caring.

  “You don’t like me, Commander, and that’s perfectly okay, but I would prefer to keep personalities out of this. I am a professional and I pride myself on my work. Not only have you insulted me but you’ve—” Angry though she was, she couldn’t complete the thought.

  His eyes hardened, but he still wouldn’t look at her.

  Unable to bear another minute in his presence, she turned and walked away, feeling as though there was a huge hole in her stomach.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shana was in much better spirits the following weekend. Her business continued to prosper, and she’d hired a new part-time employee, a teenage boy this time, named Charles. Not Charlie, but Charles. Hiring, training and dealing with employees had proved to be her biggest difficulty to date. This was an area where she had little experience and it seemed her lessons were all learned the hard way. She’d had to let the other two go and seemed to feel worse about it than either teenager. Charles was proving himself to be responsible and good-natured, and he and Catherine liked each other, quickly developing a bantering relationship. Shana couldn’t even begin to imagine what she’d do without Catherine.

  After several weeks of hanging around the ice-cream parlor, Jazmine’s entrepreneurial talent suddenly kicked in, and her ideas weren’t bad. The kid had real imagination when it came to inventing sundaes and candy treats. She took long strands of red and black licorice and—hands carefully gloved—braided them, decorating each end with colorful ribbons. Then she enclosed the entire creation in cellophane wrap. She hung them everywhere she found space, creating a festive atmosphere. The price was reasonable and the kids who came into the parlor were intrigued by them, so they sold quickly.

  Jazmine’s creativity had sparked Shana’s, and she made up and displayed small bouquets using colorful lollipops and ribbons. The candy business contributed only a small portion to the total revenue but was gaining in popularity.

  Working long hours had one advantage, Shana decided; she didn’t have time to think about Adam’s leaving. She was afraid it would be soon, and if she allowed herself to brood on it, she’d remember how much she enjoyed his company—and how much she was going to miss him.

  Adam still hadn’t mentioned the possibility of a transfer to Jazmine. Shana didn’t feel it was her place to tell Jazz, unless Adam wanted her to, but he agreed the news should come from him. He’d promised he would last weekend, but then for one reason or another, he hadn’t. Shana knew it would be hard to tell her and that he wanted to delay it until the transfer was official. She supposed it would be best to say nothing until he was sure. Her heart ached at the thought of Adam moving to Hawaii. Yes, it was a wonderful assignment and one he’d sought out, but Shana wanted him in Seattle, selfish though that was…

  At the height of the lunch business, when the restaurant smelled of baking dough and
tomato sauce, and it was all Shana could do to keep up with the pizza orders, the phone rang. Catherine bustled over to answer it and her gaze flew to Shana.

  “It’s for you,” she said, holding out the receiver.

  Shana finished slicing a sausage pizza still steaming hot from the oven. If it was Adam, she’d call back the minute she had time to breathe. “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Adam, I think,” Catherine told her.

  She realized he might have news; if so, she wanted to know as soon as possible. “Ask him if it’s important.”

  Catherine grabbed the phone and as Shana watched, the older woman nodded at her.

  Her stomach tensed with anxiety. Shana could feel it coming even before he told her. Adam had received his transfer papers or whatever the Navy called them. That must be it; otherwise he would’ve phoned her tonight.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, she asked Charles to fill in for her while she answered the phone. “Could you bring this pizza to table ten?”

  “Sure.”

  Shana walked to the other side of the room and took the phone from Catherine. “Adam?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you now.”

  She leaned against the wall, hardly able to breathe.

  “Listen,” he said, and she could hear the regret in his voice.

  She could think of no reason to delay his news, so she said it before he had a chance. “You got the transfer to Hawaii.”

  “Yes, my orders hit the boards.”

  “They what?”

  “They’re official. And I have to fly out almost right away. The officer I’m replacing had an emergency.”

  There it was, what she’d dreaded most. “I see.” Shana closed her eyes. Although she’d known this was coming, she still felt a sense of shock. The tightness in her chest was painful, and she bit her lower lip to keep from protesting aloud.

  “I fly out in the morning.”

  “So soon?” She’d hoped they’d have some time to say their farewells. At least one more chance to talk and decide—not that there was really anything to decide. But it felt wrong for him to go like this, so quickly, without any opportunity for Jazmine or her to adjust.

 

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