Authors: Kate Aster
Maeve gave her a squeeze on the hand. “Then
when you gave me the idea of moving in here rather than selling, everything
just clicked. I needed a clean break from my life in Baltimore. I needed to be
someplace where I wasn’t surrounded by bad memories. This is where I always
came when I needed a piece of calm. Serenity. And I know it sounds stupid, but
I really feel like there’s a part of Gram still here. Like anytime I feel a
little weak, she’s right there, holding me up.”
Lacey settled her back against the wall
and felt the warmth of the house surround them both. “It probably sounds even
stranger, but I’ve felt that too here. And I never even knew her.”
“She didn’t hold me up tonight, though.”
Lacey wrapped her arm around her. “Yeah,
well, maybe she kicked my lazy butt out of bed so I’d find you here crying.”
Laughing, Maeve let out an exaggerated
curse. “Damn her! That sounds just like something she’d do.”
“You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve
been there for me in so many ways, and for Bess and that baby. You shouldn’t feel
all alone in this.”
Maeve’s eyes widened. “You can’t tell Bess.
I don’t want her feeling she has to hold back her joys or worries or anything. Promise
me you won’t say anything to her—or to anyone.”
Lacey pursed her lips together. She could
see the logic in keeping this from Bess right now. But Maeve needed to draw
strength from her friends. “I guess it’s not my story to tell, Maeve. But I
hope one day you’ll reconsider.”
A silence hung between them.
The first beams of dawn peeked through the
window and sparkled in the chandelier’s crystals. Lacey gazed at the room again,
seeing it in a different light. “This must have been hard all these months. With
Bess pregnant, I mean.”
Maeve smiled a little. “You have no idea. But
really, this is the closest I’ll come to having a baby myself, you know? I want
to spoil that little girl a bit.”
That was obvious, Lacey thought. “It sure is
a pretty room, Maeve.”
“You think so, too?”
Lacey nodded, squeezing her arm around her
friend’s shoulders. “And you’re the most generous person I’ve ever known.”
Maeve waved her hand carelessly and wiped
another tear. “Yeah, yeah. A hard-boiled marshmallow, that’s what Gram used to
call me. Just don’t tell anyone else that. I have a reputation to uphold.”
A terrifying tingling sensation blazed a
path from Lacey’s stomach, up to her heart, and then out to her fingertips at
the feel of the ball gown tightening around her torso. She tried to inhale. “It’s
too tight, Maeve.”
Maeve squinted as she struggled with the
tiny hook-and-eye closures. “It’s not too tight. It’s strapless. That’s the way
it’s supposed to be. If it were any looser, it would fall right off you. Not
that Mick would complain about that.”
“Yeah, but it would probably happen right
as I was introduced to some Four-Star Admiral, with my luck.”
“And the old guy would go to bed with a
smile on his face. Turn around.” Maeve took Lacey by the shoulders and turned
her to face the mirror.
Lacey couldn’t help it. She hid her mouth
behind her hand and suppressed a girlish giggle. “Why do I feel like I’m
playing dress-up? It doesn’t even look like me.”
“That’s because you’re not wearing black.”
Bess laughed, stretched out on Maeve’s bed. It hadn’t taken long for the color to
return to her cheeks after her hospital scare, thanks to the beautiful surprise
baby’s room that awaited her. Now under strict bed rest orders from her doctor,
she reclined in Maeve’s room so that she could be a part of Lacey’s excitement.
Maeve smoothed out a layer of silk on the
bottom portion of the dress. “I have to say, I’m impressed with your choice. Never
would have thought you’d choose green. Black is so understated and red is so
overused.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, the designer in her taking over. “And
blue would be so trite at a Navy ball, I’d imagine. But when you told me you picked
green, I worried you’d look like a leprechaun. This malachite is just divine,
though.”
Lacey opened her mouth to respond, but
couldn’t. Nerves were short-circuiting her vocal chords.
“What’s wrong, Lacey?” Bess struggled to sit
up.
“Stay laying down, Bess, I’m fine. Just
nervous.”
“Just follow Mick’s lead with everything. You’re
not there to impress anyone.”
“But I want to,” Lacey confessed.
Maeve shook her head at her friend’s
worried expression. “You need a distraction. Jewelry,” she concluded. “It’s
time to accessorize.”
“Oh, I don’t have anything that would look
right with this dress.”
Maeve searched through three jewelry boxes
that sat on her dresser. “Here they are,” she announced triumphantly, handing
Lacey a set of earrings and then continuing to forage through her collection.
Lacey gasped. Each earring boasted
diamonds encircling an emerald with white gold detailing. “These are gorgeous. I
can’t borrow them.”
“Why not? They were Gram’s. She’d love to
know her earrings were seeing some action.”
“I’d be too worried I’d lose them.”
Maeve rolled her eyes. “That’s why I have
them insured.” She pulled a matching necklace from a velvet pouch and draped it
around Lacey’s neck.
Lacey’s breath caught at the sight. “Oh, thank
you.”
“Gram got them for her twenty-fifth
wedding anniversary. They were from Grandpa, of course. But Gram picked them
out herself. She said it was about time he bought her something to remind her
of Ireland, since he stole her from her homeland.” Maeve’s smile was rich with
memories.
“She had amazing taste,” Bess said,
admiring the jewels as they glistened against Lacey’s pale skin, “like her
granddaughter.”
“Just wish I had inherited her good taste
in men,” Maeve responded with a smirk.
***
The evening began in a giddy haze, more
like a dream than reality. Lacey stood awkwardly next to Mick in a traditional
receiving line waiting to shake the hands of people with more medals on their
chests than even her date. Her ankles wobbled in the heels beneath her
full-length gown. She stole another glance of Mick as she steadied herself on
his arm. Wrong move, she realized when the sight of him nearly knocked her
breathless… again.
Covered in medals and ribbons, and seeming
even taller than his six-foot-three, he was a mouthwatering morsel of patriotic
decadence.
Her smile brightened, and she looked away,
blushing.
He noticed. “What is it?”
“Your uniform,” she confessed. “I
thought I had gotten immune to them, but now you pull out this one. It’s not
the formal one you wore to the fundraiser.”
Mick laughed. “Yeah, we Navy guys have a
lot of variations. This one is called Mess Dress. Or Dinner Dress Blue, though
no one ever says that. The one you saw before was the Service Dress Blue
uniform which is a step down from this one. We call them SDBs. I prefer that
one—I can wear it with a straight tie and I don’t feel like a valet.”
“Everything is so confusing in the
military. I’m surprised you don’t have some kind of handbook that tells what to
wear and say and do.”
Mick grinned. “Actually, we do.”
“Maybe I should borrow it for the night.”
Taking her hand, Mick kissed her palm
gently. “Honey, you’re a civilian. All you have to do is enjoy yourself. Leave
the saluting to me.”
When they finally entered the hotel
ballroom, the sweeping hall glimmered with candlelight reflecting on champagne flutes.
Shaking hands and making introductions as they wove through the maze of white-clothed
tables, Mick guided her to their seats where his name and rank were written in
flowing calligraphy on a nameplate.
Everyone stood at attention as the flags
were marched in perfect formation into the ballroom. A mezzo-soprano
beautifully sang the national anthem followed by
Anchor’s Away
and the
Marine
Corps Hymn
. After rousing applause, a silence fell over the ballroom as the
invocation was said, which nearly brought Lacey to tears with its eloquent
remembrance of the military men and women who were risking their lives at that
very moment.
Patriotism was more than a word here, she
realized. She got chills at the thought, and hoped that Mick didn’t notice the
goose bumps on her bare arms.
Brief speeches, toasts, and a random array
of traditions ensued which Mick did his best to explain quietly to Lacey. She
wondered if she looked as overwhelmed as she felt.
Mick took her hand as salads were brought
out to them. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Yes.” She leaned in closer to him. “Just
feeling out of my league, is all.”
Mick smiled and gave her a good once-over.
“Beautiful, in that dress, you are in a league of your own. I’m lucky I’m the
one who gets to take you home.”
“Or back to your home, I’m hoping.”
He returned her mischievous smile. “I’m
feeling even luckier.”
***
Exhausted after the whirlwind of
pageantry, Lacey was grateful to return to Mick’s and snuggle in front of a
relaxing fire. Her mind was still racing, the dazzling images of the night
dancing in her memory. She hoped they would never fade.
Mick’s gentle caress traced along the
contours of her face. “What are you smiling about?”
“Oh, everything. It was a wonderful night,
Mick. I was just blown away by all of it.”
“How so?”
Lacey’s gaze fixed on the tiny sparks that
leapt from the logs and drifted up the chimney like tiny bubbles in champagne. “Everything
was just so impressive. Almost otherworldly to me. And all the people I met…” Her
face fell, feeling a hint of insecurity creeping into her heart. “The things
they’ve seen and done just somehow make my life look really insignificant. I
mean, did you read those bios of the speakers in the program? And what would
my
bio read? Lacey Owens, now on her umpteenth career attempt, barely makes a
living while renting a room in her friend’s house.”
Mick draped his arm over her. “No. It
would read, ‘Lacey Owens, whose courage and ambition has her embarking on a new
career rather than accepting the status quo. Lacey Owens, whose kind heart has brought
her a dedicated following of friends.’”
Lacey grumbled, not particularly impressed
with herself.
He pulled her closer. “Lacey Owens, who has
somehow done what no other woman could—making a hardened Navy SEAL fall
in love with her.’”
Her eyes met his tentatively, wondering if
he really meant what he said.
He put her mind to rest. “I love you,
Lacey,” he repeated so easily, it stunned her.
The smile on her face resonated from her
soul. “I love you, too, Mick.”
“I shouldn’t have answered the phone,”
Lacey muttered, walking arm-in-arm with Mick down Main Street with a quickly
depleting chunk of fudge in her hand.
Mick grinned. “You say that every time
your mom calls.”
“You’re right. I never learn.”
“So, what subtly insulting things did she
say this time?”
Mouth watering, Lacey devoured another
bite of the fudge. “Just that Vi decided to do a destination wedding in Palm
Beach at some five-star resort, and mom offered to pay for my trip because she
knows my life is a financial disaster.”
“And you’re upset about this? Hell, I’d be
packing my bags.”
“Well, you can go in my place. All we need
is to find a maid of honor dress that would fit you. Or would the Navy frown on
that?”
“Hey, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ you know?”
Mick winked.
Lacey laughed, stopping in front of a store
window sparkling with jewels and staring emptily at the display. “There’s no
way I’m taking their money. I can’t even imagine all the remarks I’d have to
survive from them if I did.”
Mick brushed a lock of hair from Lacey’s
face and gently stroked her cheek. “That Miron property will probably sell by
then and you’ll be flying first class to Palm Beach.”
“Good to know someone has some confidence
in me.” Popping the last morsel of fudge into her mouth without remorse, Lacey leaned
in to press her mouth against his. She felt the flick of his tongue along her
own.
He pulled back suddenly. “That fudge
tastes great. You should have shared.”
“I offered,” she defended with a laugh. Nestling
closer into the crook of his shoulder, she felt herself decompress in his
presence as they walked along the quiet street.
Annapolis was all but vacant of tourists
after the winter holidays, with little to draw people in except a smattering of
good restaurants and local character. The quaint decorations that once made
Main Street look like a scene on a Christmas card had been taken down, and the
weather was too cold for anyone but the most devout sailors to be out on the
Bay.