by Geri Krotow
“I call him boss because he is the boss in the best way. Not many senior officers I’ve met in my Navy career have been as down to earth and real as him. He’s not one for appearances, you know? That was important to me, especially before I started wearing and getting used to this.” He knocked on his lower thigh and Winnie heard the sound of knuckles on plastic or metal.
“You lost your leg?”
“Yes, ma’am. They weren’t sure I was going to even walk again, much less have not one, but two great legs.” He winked at her. “I have another one for sports that’s made out of titanium. It’s killer.”
She blinked and took a deep breath. “What a minute. You mean to tell me you climbed that huge tree to save that persnickety old woman’s cat and you only have one leg?”
He laughed, and her cheeks flamed at her obtuseness. “I’m sorry, Miles, I really am a boor.”
“Don’t worry.” He patted her upper arm. “Yeah, I climbed that tree pretty good, didn’t I? And Miss Roanna, the daughter of the woman, she didn’t think I’d be able to do it. She thought I had two regular legs.” He smiled at the memory as though he’d pulled a fast one.
“So did I—and I thought you were nuts to climb the tree at all, especially in those boots you wore to ride your bike. But now I get it. You have better traction with them than sneakers would’ve given you. Am I on the right path?”
“Smack dab on it!”
“Well, I know I speak for everyone who was there that day when I say thank you again for all you did. I doubt even the fire department would’ve had as good a result.”
“They might’ve kept the gals a bit calmer,” he said, referring to Roanna and her blue-haired mom. Was that a blush she saw under his tan?
“So have you see Ro since?” She kept the focus on Miles. If he changed the subject to Max and asked her if she’d seen him lately, she’d die. She didn’t want to admit that while she allowed him full access to her girls, she didn’t let him any closer to her than necessary.
“Ro? No, that was it. I don’t figure I’ll see her again. She didn’t take kindly to me just taking over the situation that day.”
“Well, I’m sure she’s grateful for how it all turned out. You could always call to see how the cat’s doing.”
A twinkle sparked in his eyes. “I suppose I could. In fact…it might be the right thing to do. The polite thing.” A second later, he looked away and shoved his hands in his pockets. What shadow had crossed his path?
“So what about you, Winnie? Have you seen Max recently?”
“No, no. He spends a lot of time with the girls, which is great. They love him.”
“But what about you?”
She squirmed. She needed to get to the caseworker’s office and she did not want to have this discussion with Miles. After all, except for Max’s high praise of the man, she didn’t really know him.
“Um, I’m here to get more clients to work with my therapy dog, Sam. You met him the day you rescued the cat.”
That brought the grin back to Miles’s face. “Sure, I did. He’s the one who got that cat up the tree, isn’t he?”
“No, actually, Sam’s the one who noticed the cat was even there. He rescued Henry by alerting to him. Otherwise, I think his owner would’ve been looking for him for quite a while.”
“Yeah, she wouldn’t be able to hear the cat crying for her.”
“I’m not sure the cat was crying for her. Seemed to me he just got bored and once he was out of that RV he bolted. Can’t say I blame him!” She gave him a quick smile.
“Yeah, that’s probably true.”
“Well, I’ve got to get going. Nice seeing you.”
“The pleasure was all mine, Winnie. Tell boss I said hi, okay?”
As she walked to the counselor’s office, she sensed Miles’s charisma. She admired him. Respected him. And he respected Max beyond measure. Pride and gratitude welled up in her chest, reminding her why she kept coming back on base to help the returning sailors.
It wasn’t that she felt she was repaying a debt to the Navy for taking care of her and Krista after Tom’s death. It didn’t hurt anymore, either, to come back on base so regularly.
With a jolt she realized she’d recovered from Tom’s death some time ago. She’d always love him, but it wasn’t Tom she’d betray if she and Max became a permanent couple.
No, she’d betray the woman who’d been so deeply hurt. She’d promised that woman—her old self—not to ever let that happen again.
But what about her new self, the woman she’d become since Maeve’s birth? Since Max’s reentry into their lives?
Winnie’s insides shook. Was she really being a strong mother and protecting her girls, or was she allowing her fears to keep them all from being happy?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“UNCLE MAX SAID he’d wave to us.”
Winnie pushed Maeve in her stroller. Krista loped beside them as they crossed the tarmac at the Naval Air Station. It was the annual Air Show, the weekend thousands flocked to Whidbey Island to witness aircraft of all types in flight.
This same weekend two years ago was when Maeve had been conceived… .
“Wave to you from where?”
“From his plane.”
Fear iced Winnie’s neck. “Do you mean on the ground, in a static display of the EA-6B Prowler?”
Krista cocked her head in confusion. “No, I mean from the plane he’s flying today. Something about the World War II demonstration.”
“Honey, Uncle Max doesn’t fly for the Navy anymore, and he certainly doesn’t fly antique airplanes.” She adjusted the brim of her visor. The sun was brutal but meant the viewing would be great later on.
“Besides,” she added, “he said he was going to meet us at three.” It was one-thirty now, and no planes were scheduled to go up until two.
“He’s flying as a passenger, Mom. He said they only do a quick flyby, then land on the far runway.”
Winnie gripped the stroller handles tightly. It was the only way to keep from shaking. “Did he say what type of aircraft he’d be in?”
“Some kind of bomber, um, with a number.”
“A B-17.” Max’s favorite airframe. He had a beautiful print over his mantel—a B-17 during combat operations in 1943 Europe. She’d always known about his love for WWII history.
Today he’d get to live a piece of it.
Be happy for him. It’s not about you.
Besides, he didn’t have to ask her for permission.
But he could have warned her for the girls’ sake. What if Krista got upset, thinking about her dad crashing…?
Winnie sighed. If that was really a worry, she wouldn’t have brought Krista here to begin with. Krista, who loved anything to do with aviation. Despite Tom’s death, her adoration of flight had never really gone away.
Krista had gotten angry with herself when she was nine, about two years after her father died, and had shoved all her toy planes and miniaircraft models under her bed. Skateboarding and computer games became her new hobby.
But over the past few months Winnie noticed that some of Krista’s collection had reappeared. On her desk, her windowsill, her bathroom counter. She’d even found the model of an EA-6B clutched in Maeve’s chubby hand. She hadn’t asked about it. Whether Maeve retrieved it from under Krista’s bed or Krista had given it to her didn’t matter.
Aircraft and flying. They were in her daughters’ blood.
That call to flight was something Winnie believed Tom had been born with. She hadn’t, but both Krista and Maeve seemed to have it. As young as Maeve was, she never missed the sound of a jet or a prop overhead, and was forever staring up at the sky, pointing to airplanes.
Can’t you see this as a chance to have faith in Max?
“Mom, look!” Krista showed her a merchandise stand that was chockful of aviation-related T-shirts and ball caps. There was even a sport duffel bag with an EA-6B imprinted on its side.
“You could use a new bag
for your soccer stuff. If you like it, why don’t we see how much it costs?”
“Thanks, Mom!” Krista bounded over to the table and picked up one of the flattened duffel bags. She checked it over and spoke to the vendor, then put it down and came back. Winnie kept Maeve parked in the shade of a large umbrella.
“Mom, it’s not that expensive! And if you don’t want to buy it for me, I have enough saved from my allowance.”
Krista told her the price and Winnie was surprised that Krista actually knew what she was talking about as far as value was concerned.
“Here, honey.” She fished out her wallet from the diaper bag and handed Krista the money.
“Yay! Thanks—I’ll be right back.”
Winnie looked around the shady refuge while she waited for Krista. There was a stack of programs on a small stand and she grabbed one.
Sure enough, on the center of page one, she saw a description of the flyby at 2:15—three historic planes, a B-17, P-51 Mustang and P-40 Warhawk. She bit her lip. So Max was going to be in the B-17. Fine. Whatever. He was an adult and could make his own decisions. Take his own risks.
She knew from being around the Air Show for so long that the pilots of these aircraft were most often older, retired Navy or Air Force flyers, who dedicated their lives to Second World War re-enactments so no one would forget the sacrifices made by so many. It used to be that exclusively WWII vets flew the planes, but as their numbers had dwindled in the past decade, it was now the next generation, the children of those WWII heroes, who flew the aircraft.
Krista came back the proud owner of a Navy duffel bag with a silhouette of the Air Station and the aircraft that flew from Whidbey embroidered on it. The EA-6B Prowler electronic reconnaissance platform was emblazoned next to the P-3C Orion submarine hunter.
“I’m glad you’re happy with it, honey.” Winnie smiled at Krista and got a surprise hug.
“Yup, sure am. This is perfect for my sports clothes and I can use it for sleepovers and campouts, too.”
“Now, let’s find a comfortable place to sit. We just need to steer clear of the sun. It may feel cool but those rays will still burn.”
“We put sunscreen on, Mom.” Krista’s patience with her was vanishing rapidly. She’d already forgotten that Winnie had bought her a new bag.
“Yes, we did. But you can’t expect it to last through all day in the sun.”
Before Krista could protest further, they heard the announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the annual Naval Air Station Whidbey Island Air Show!”
“C’mon, Mom! Let’s get up close for when Uncle Max flies by. We can go back under an umbrella later.”
Winnie fought the apprehension that rattled her stomach and put her sunglasses on. “Fine. But stay close and remember we’ve got the stroller.”
They headed out and reached the crowd gathered along the flight line a few minutes later. Winnie couldn’t help smiling as she looked around.
People from all walks of life had come to see the show. Of course, many in the crowd were from local military families, but there were also civilians who’d driven hours to see the demonstration.
“This is gonna be great!” Krista bounced up on her toes next to Winnie.
“Maaaammeeee.” Maeve was awake.
Winnie bent down under the stroller’s umbrella top. “Hello, sweetness. Are you up?”
“Hi.” Maeve gave her a lopsided grin.
“Here, let Mommy change your diaper now so we won’t have to worry about it later.”
Maeve wasn’t so thrilled but Winnie changed her diaper in the stroller before she could complain too loudly. Soon the drone of engines would drown out any crying, but for now the crowd was hushed in anticipation of the National Anthem.
“That’s a good girl.” She lifted Maeve onto her hip and handed her a sippy cup full of watered-down apple juice. “When you’re hungry I have some yummy snacks for you, honey.” She kissed Maeve’s tousled mop and then put a sunbonnet on her. Maeve’s fingers were too busy with the cup to try to yank off the hat.
Winnie and Krista sang along to “The Star Spangled Banner.” Krista put her hand over her heart, and Winnie couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over her bottom lids. Her sunglasses would keep Krista from seeing them, thank goodness. She didn’t want her daughter to think she was upset.
Quite the opposite.
To watch Krista, who’d lost her dad too soon and too young because of his dedication to the Navy and his country, place her hand over her heart in such a patriotic gesture was a source of pride and joy. Tom might be gone, but he lived on in Krista. In her interest in flying and the shape of her eyes and the sound of her laugh, sure. But more than that, Winnie saw Tom in Krista’s dedication to doing what was right, regardless of the challenges thrown her way.
“Here they come, Mom!”
Maeve clapped, picking up on her older sister’s energy. “Yaayyy!”
“It’s so exciting, isn’t it, baby?” Winnie didn’t have to distract Maeve at all. Maeve was enthralled. When a P-3C Orion and EA-6B Prowler flew in formation over the field, the crowd went wild. They were the two aviation platforms that had been on Whidbey the longest and continued to be deployed.
Winnie’s breath caught as Maeve squealed in her arms and Krista bounced next to her. The symbolism of the moment triggered so many memories… . Saying goodbye to Tom before deployments. Greeting him six, sometimes seven, months later. Cheering up friends whose husbands were deployed.
No one here had been untouched by war. It would never have been her choice to lose her spouse to war, but she would never have wished it on anyone else, either.
“Okay, Mom, Uncle Max should be next.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, please pay attention to our next set of demonstrations. They remind us of the sacrifices made by the Greatest Generation during World War II. Today you’ll see a B-17 Flying Fortress…” The announcer went on, introducing each pilot and giving a brief description of each plane’s history.
Winnie ignored her anger that Max was up there, risking his life in an ancient aircraft.
“Mom, look! There’s the B-17 he’s in!”
In the distance she saw the unmistakable four engines on the huge but graceful old gal. The flyby wasn’t as fast or glamorous as that by a supersonic jet, but Winnie bet hers weren’t the only wet eyes in the crowd.
“Do you think he could see us?” Krista asked excitedly. “I told him I’d have this orange shirt on.” Krista was wearing one of her favorite T-shirts decorated with her current favorite band’s logo on the front.
Winnie smiled and sought out the graceful bird one more time before it disappeared over the horizon. The B-17 would require a much larger flight path to turn around and make an approach back to the runway than a smaller plane.
Winnie saw the bird fly higher before it left her field of vision.
“Look, Mom. See how fast this one is!” Krista pointed out the P-51 Mustang, whose single Merlin piston engine shook the ground with its reverberations.
For the next fifteen minutes their attention was focused on aircraft after aircraft. They were in the midst of observing a French acrobatic pilot perform a loop-de-loop when Winnie noticed a pair of red fire engines. They raced across the flight line, followed by other emergency vehicles, all flashing their lights.
The French acrobat must have been alerted via his headset; the small plane instantly righted itself and flew out of the flight area.
Winnie’s heart sank. She saw black spots in front of her eyes and lowered herself to the ground. Her grip on Maeve was all that kept her from completely losing it.
“Mom, what?” Krista grabbed her shoulders.
Winnie shook her head. Then she couldn’t speak. They needed to listen to the announcer.
The sound system remained oddly silent.
Krista sat down beside Winnie and took Maeve into her lap. “Mom, are you okay? Why did they stop the show like this?”
&
nbsp; “There’s a problem—didn’t you see the fire trucks?”
“No! Wait,” Krista stood quickly, keeping Maeve in her arms.
It might not even be Max’s flight, Winnie told herself.
But her instincts screamed otherwise. It was as though she felt his concern.
Winnie’s hands shook so badly she grasped her knees to still them, sitting on the hot cement. The crowd’s murmurs floated above her and she barely noticed the passage of time.
Still holding Maeve, Krista returned from her perusal of the activity. “You’re right. There’s a lot of flashing lights. Do you think the French pilot’s hurt?”
“I don’t know, honey. Let’s just wait and see if the announcer says anything.”
Of course, it could be as simple as the French pilot needing to land early. But the emergency vehicles were already on their way before the acrobat was waved off.
Finally the announcer began to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, please be patient while we take an unexpected break in our program. Our old gal the B-17 is making an emergency landing, but no problems are anticipated. The mishap vehicles are a precaution.”
Winnie stood on shaky legs, her stomach heaving. She gasped huge amounts of air and concentrated on the far runway. The vehicles were still there, the lights still flashed.
All she and the girls could do was wait.
And pray.
“Mom, what are you thinking?” Krista stood next to her, not completely aware of what they might face.
“I’m thinking you’re a great daughter and a wonderful big sister,” she said, hugging Krista and Maeve together.
And if your uncle Max walks off that plane alive, I’m going to kill him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MAX NEVER MISSED A CHANCE to fly with World War II and Vietnam vets when they brought the old planes out for Air Shows. The guys who’d agreed to take him up in the B-17 this morning were no longer WWII vets as they’d been when he was a junior officer fifteen years ago. One of the pilots was a Vietnam vet and the copilot was a civilian who’d always loved flight.
