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When she wasn’t fretting over that, her thoughts were on Jazmine and Adam. She knew they were going to the Museum of Glass, but that couldn’t possibly take all afternoon. Well, maybe it could; she didn’t know.
Finally Shana gave up and shut the book. This was Adam Kennedy’s fault. Even when he was nowhere in sight, he wouldn’t leave her alone.
When she could stand it no longer, Shana logged on to the computer and left her sister a message.
Sent: Sunday, June 12
From: Shana@mindsprung.com
To: Alison.Karas@woodrowwilson.navy.mil
Subject: Adam Kennedy: Friend or Foe?
Dear Ali,
Just checking in to let you know that despite our rocky start, everything’s going well with Jazz and me. She’s a great kid.
The upcoming week is the last of the school year. I’m thrilled at how quickly Jazmine has adjusted and how fast she’s made friends. I guess she’s had lots of practice. She’s a tremendous help at the ice-cream and pizza parlor and insists on taking pizzas to the customers’ tables, which I appreciate.
The other reason I’m writing is that I’ve got a question about Peter’s friend, Adam Kennedy. I must have met him at Peter’s funeral, but if so I don’t remember. Jazmine seems to think you’re romantically interested in him. Are you? You’ve never mentioned him before—at least not that I can recall. Before you make anything of this inquiry, I want it understood that I find him arrogant and egotistical. Jazmine, however, thinks the guy walks on water. They’re off this afternoon to explore some glass museum. I’d be grateful if you’d tell me what you know about him. For instance, has he ever been married? If not, why? I don’t want to give you the wrong impression or anything—I do find him arrogant. But he sort of interests me, too. Fill in the blanks for me, would you?
Love,
Shana
At six Shana tossed a salad for dinner. The house seemed terribly quiet, and she turned on the television for company. That wasn’t like her. In all her years of living alone, she’d never once felt this lonely. At first she wondered if it was due to the breakup with Brad, but all she felt when she thought about him was regret for all that wasted time—and anger. She was just plain glad he was out of her life. In fact, she rarely thought of him at all and that surprised her.
Jazmine had been with her for only a few weeks, and already Shana couldn’t imagine life without her. She missed Jazmine’s energy—blaring her music or talking on the phone, or plying Shana with questions about all sorts of things. The difference between the unhappy nine-yearold who’d arrived on her doorstep and the girl she was now—well, it seemed nothing short of astonishing. She’d become extroverted, interested and…interfering.
A little after seven, Jazmine burst into the house. “I’m back!” she shouted.
Before Shana could issue a word of welcome, Jazmine regaled her with details of how they’d spent their day. She talked about the walking tour and chattered excitedly about watching the artists work in the Museum of Glass. She’d fed the seagulls along the waterfront on Rustin Way and then Adam had taken her for a quick visit to the zoo at Point Defiance Park. Shana could hardly believe the girl could talk so fast and breathe at the same time.
“I guess you had a completely rotten time?” Shana asked, teasing her. Shana realized as she spoke that the lieutenant commander was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Adam?”
“We were kind of late and he had to get back.” Jazmine’s smile widened. “Did you want him to come inside?”
“Not really. I just thought he might like to…visit for a few minutes.” Actually, after the way she’d torn into him on his arrival, she didn’t blame him for avoiding her.
“We should probably have a little talk,” Shana said, slipping an arm around Jazmine’s shoulders.
Her niece stiffened. “I have a feeling this is the same little talk Uncle Adam and I had, only now it’s going to be the Aunt Shana version.”
Her interest was instantly piqued. “Really? And what did Adam have to say?”
Jazmine gave a long-suffering sigh. “That it would be a good idea if I left the two of you alone.”
“He’s right.” Shana was grateful Adam had taken it upon himself to explain this. Jazmine would accept it more readily coming from him.
“He also said I’m concerning myself with matters that aren’t any of my business.”
“Exactly.” Obviously Adam had been very forthright during his version of the “little talk.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t try matching you up with other men.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Shana said solemnly.
Jazmine sighed again. “I wouldn’t like it if you went around talking to boys about me.”
That was exactly how Shana had planned to approach the subject herself. “Did Adam make that comparison?”
Her niece nodded. “He said it on the drive back.”
“He’s smarter than he looks,” Shana muttered. Then, because she felt her niece should know this, she added, “A man and a woman can be friends without being romantically involved, Jazmine. It’s called a platonic relationship.”
The phone rang then, and without waiting for a second ring, Jazmine leaped like a gazelle into the other room. She ripped the receiver off the wall. “Hello,” she said urgently. “No, she’s here, you have the right number.” Jazmine held out the phone. “It’s for you.”
Shana started to ask who it was, but didn’t. Taking the receiver, she raised it to her ear. “This is Shana.”
“Shana. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to hear the sound of your voice.”
For the first time in her life, Shana’s knees felt as if they were about to buckle. It was Brad.
“Hello, Brad,” she said evenly, amazed at her ability to respond without emotion. The man had guts; she’d say that for him. “How’d you find me?” she asked coolly.
“It wasn’t easy. It’s taken me weeks.”
She supposed she should be complimented that he’d made the effort, but she wasn’t. “I don’t mean to be rude, but there was a reason I kept my number unlisted.”
“The least you can do is listen to what I have to say,” he told her.
“Everything’s been said.”
“But Shana—”
“There’s nothing more to say,” she insisted.
“At least give me your address. I can’t believe you’re living in Washington. Did you get a transfer?”
“That’s nothing to do with you.”
Jazmine was watching her carefully, eyes wide and quizzical as if she was hoping to memorize each word so she could repeat it.
“I would prefer if you didn’t phone me again.” Shana was prepared to cut him off, but he stopped her, obviously guessing her intentions.
“Don’t hang up,” he pleaded. “Please, Shana, just hear me out.”
“It won’t do any good.” She’d gone ramrod-straight, her resistance up. She didn’t even find this difficult, although she had to admit she was mildly curious as to why he’d sought her out.
“I don’t care. I need to get this off my chest. Just promise me you’ll listen.”
She didn’t want to encourage him with a response.
He continued despite that. “You told me you were leaving Portland, but I didn’t believe you. Shana, I miss you. I need you. Nothing is the same without you. I feel so empty. You have no idea how awful it’s been for me.”
That was their problem in a nutshell. The entire relationship had revolved around Brad Moore and his needs. He missed her, he needed her. She was convenient, loyal and endlessly patient. Well, no more.
She rolled her eyes and made a circular motion with her hand as though to hurry him along.
Jazmine planted her hand over her mouth to smother her giggles.
“Are you listening?” he asked, finishing up a fiveminute soliloquy about how much he missed all their special times. Translation: all the “special” times when she’d been there to see to his comfort. He recounted the little ways she’d indulged him—the meals she’d cooked according to his likes and dislikes, the movies she’d watched because he’d chosen them, the Christmas shopping she’d done for him…Not once did he say any of the things that might have changed her mind, including the fact that he loved her.
So far, everything he’d said reaffirmed her belief that she’d made the right decision. It would always be about Brad and what he needed from her and how important she was to his comfort. Apparently Sylvia wasn’t nearly as accommodating as Shana.
Finally she couldn’t take it any longer.
“Are you finished yet?” she asked and yawned rudely to signal her boredom.
Her question was followed by a short silence. “You’ve changed, Shana.”
“Yes,” she told him in a curt voice. “Yes, I have.”
“I can’t believe you don’t love me anymore.”
Shana noticed he hadn’t even bothered to ask about the girl who’d answered the phone.
Brad seemed shocked that she wasn’t ready to race back into his arms just because he’d made an effort to find her. A short while ago, she’d been grateful for each little crumb he’d tossed her way. Those days were over. Oh, this felt good. She felt good.
“What’s happened to my sweet Shana?” he asked. “This isn’t like you.”
“I woke up,” she informed him, “and I didn’t respect the woman I’d become. It was time to clean house. Out with the old and in with the new.”
The line went silent as he absorbed this. “You’re dating someone else, aren’t you?”
The temptation to let him believe that was strong, and she might have given in to it, if not for Jazmine. With her niece listening to every word, Shana felt honorbound to tell the truth.
“It’s just like you to think that, but no, I’m not seeing anyone else.” She bit back the words to tell him she could if she wanted to. Well, there was that single father who might’ve been interested—and Adam Kennedy.
His relief was instantaneous. “You’ll always love me…”
“No,” she said firmly. “I won’t. I don’t. Not anymore. For your sake and mine, please don’t call me again.”
He started to argue, but Shana wasn’t willing to listen. She should’ve hung up the phone long before, but some perverse satisfaction had kept her on the line.
As she replaced the receiver, she looked over at Jazmine. Her niece gave a loud triumphant shout. “Way to go, Aunt Shana!”
They exchanged high fives. Shana felt exuberant and then guilty for not experiencing even the slightest disappointment. She was actually grateful Brad had phoned because this conversation had provided complete and final proof that she’d reclaimed her own life.
“Can I tell Uncle Adam about this?” Jazmine asked happily.
“Adam?” Her suspicions immediately rose to the surface. “Whatever for?”
“Because,” Jazmine replied as if it should be obvious. “He should know that you really are over Brad. The door’s open, isn’t it? I mean, you’re cured.”
Shana liked the analogy. “I am cured, but let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?”
Jazmine frowned. “If you say so,” she said without enthusiasm.
The kid was certainly eager to get her and Adam together. Presumably she’d abandoned her earlier hopes for Adam and her mother. “I want your promise that you won’t talk to Adam about any part of my conversation with Brad.”
Muttering under her breath, Jazmine shook her head. Halfway to her room, she turned back. “Uncle Adam wanted me to tell you he’ll be by next Saturday. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is.” Not until later did Shana realize how dejected she was at the thought of waiting almost a week before she saw Adam Kennedy again.
Chapter Nine
Ali read Shana’s e-mail a second time and smiled. This was exactly what she’d hoped—but didn’t dare believe—would happen. Although her sister was skirting the issue, she was interested in Adam; her e-mail confirmed it. Adam had definitely gotten Shana’s attention.
It took half an hour for Ali to answer her sister. She worked hard on the wording for fear she’d say too much or not enough. Adam was a lot like Peter in the ways that really mattered. He was loyal, compassionate, with a strong work ethic and an endearing sense of humor. Through the years, Peter had encouraged him to settle down and get married. Personally Ali didn’t understand why Adam hadn’t. Aside from the important stuff, he was good-looking. As far as she knew he dated, but obviously hadn’t found the one woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Could Shana be that woman? Far be it from her to suggest such a thing. Much better if a relationship developed without her meddling. From the sounds of it, they were getting all the romantic assistance they needed—or didn’t need—from Jazmine.
Once she’d finished her e-mail, Ali prepared for her shift. It’d taken some adjustment, but she’d become accustomed to life aboard the aircraft carrier. Routine helped pass the days, and being able to stay in touch with her daughter through the Internet eased her mind about Jazmine.
The hours went by quickly as she responded to small medical emergencies.
She was almost finished with her shift when Commander Frank Dillon entered the sick bay. His complexion was sickly pale, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. When he saw that Ali was the duty nurse, he attempted a weak smile but she noticed that his jaw was clenched and he was clearly in pain.
Ali remembered him from her first day in the wardroom. Since then, she hadn’t seen him at all but thought about him often, reliving those few seconds when he’d reached out to steady her in the passageway. Just seconds—it couldn’t have been more than that. She didn’t know why she’d read anything into such a minor incident. Still, she’d fantasized about him an embarrassing number of times in the weeks since. No one had to remind her of the professional issues involved in fraternization aboard ship.
“Commander Dillon,” Ali said, coming forward to assist him. He held his hand pressed against his side. “What happened?”
“Something’s wrong,” he muttered. He looked as if he was close to passing out. “I need a doctor.”
Ali led him into an examination room, and learned that he’d had a stomachache for the last couple of days. It’d had grown steadily worse and now the pain had become intolerable. She alerted Captain Robert Coleman, the physician on duty, who examined the commander.
Ali suspected it was his appendix, and apparently Dr. Coleman did, too. Following the examination, he ordered X-rays. Ali accompanied Commander Dillon while the X-rays were taken. The commander didn’t utter a word, although she knew every touch, no matter how gentle, brought him pain.
One look at the film confirmed her fears. Time was critical; judging by the amount of pain he was suffering, his appendix could rupture any minute. Dr. Coleman scheduled emergency surgery, which he planned to perform immediately.
Ali helped prep the commander, explaining what was happening and why. She hooked up the IV and taped the needle in place. After checking the fluid bag, she glanced down and discovered him watching her. She smiled shyly, unaccustomed to such intent scrutiny.
Frank closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
Ali squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll have you back to your command as good as new,” she promised.
He was silent until just before he was rolled into the surgical bay. He gripped Ali’s hand unexpectedly and with surprising strength. Half rising from the gurney, he said, “It’s bad. Listen, if I don’t make it…if there are complications…”
“You’re going to live to tell about this, Commander,” she assured him. She gave his hand another squeeze and urged him back down. Their eyes met and she did her best to let him know that the medical staff would take good care of him and all would be well.
