Authors: Kate Aster
Then, his final luck spent, he’d be more
than happy to leave the SEALs. After this last mission, he felt about ten years
too old for this. He doubted it showed, but he’d rather leave before it did.
Hell, he’d leave the Navy if that’s what
she wanted. If that’s what it took to win her back, he’d walk away from it all.
Anything to see her face waiting for him
when he came home from work. He’d cup her sweet face in his hands and kiss her
so gently she would beg for more. “Off your feet,” he’d say with a smile, “so
that I can massage them.”
Then he’d make her dinner.
Then he’d make slow, sumptuous love to her
as many times as his war-scarred body would allow.
Mick shut his eyes, savoring the image he
was drawing in his mind. It had been so long since he’d seen her. What had it
been? Five or six weeks, maybe? Short in terms of a deployment, but an eternity
when you were forced to disappear after an argument without even being able to
call or email. He would have given anything to just tell her he was sorry. To
tell her that he had a ring in his pocket that last night together that
belonged to her, no one else.
She probably moved on, he thought with a
scowl.
Mrs. B might have even set her up with
that damn doctor she had once mentioned. His eyes grew cold at the thought. If
he ever mistreated her, Mick would tear him in half.
Ha!
Mistreated her? Like he had, Mick remembered, questioning her ethics, even
accusing her of sleeping with him to land a real estate deal, and then calling
her—what was it he had said?
A vulture, that was it.
Real nice, dickhead.
If she’d only let him, he’d spend the rest
of his life making it up to her.
***
Lacey stepped into the afternoon sun,
grateful for its warm rays. The air conditioning had been on high in the
settlement office, and she was nearly losing feeling in her fingertips.
Fortunately, the freeze hadn’t kept the
seller from signing on the dotted line, Lacey thought with a sleepy grin.
Lacey’s first waterfront property was
sold. Mrs. Templeman’s stunning gated community property overlooking the
Chesapeake Bay was now under the ownership of a former Oswego, New York couple,
anxious to embrace the milder winters of Annapolis. At this very moment, Mrs. Templeman
was in a cab headed to the airport to catch her flight to Hawaii and fulfill
her lifelong dream.
Such a pleasant transaction. Lacey nodded,
pleased with herself, despite the constant pressure she felt behind her eyes
the past twenty-four hours.
A fat commission check in her wallet, she
had already reserved the services of a photographer to take her picture for some
full-color brochures. And she had signed up for a summer class that she could
apply toward her Masters in Social Work. Taking Edith’s advice, Lacey knew it
wasn’t a step toward a lifelong dream. It was just something worth exploring,
something that piqued her curiosity.
It was another part of her journey.
She’d even have enough leftover to buy a
last-minute ticket to Germany, she thought, checking her cell. Her face fell at
the sight of no phone messages. She fought the urge to cry, not being able to
share her success with Mick. Not knowing where he was.
Not knowing whether he was even alive.
No. Mustn’t go there
. She took a deep breath, trying to push Mick to the
back of her mind until Jack learned more. Mick wouldn’t want this moment stolen
from Lacey. She had envisioned this day for so long, picturing herself telling her
parents she had finally sold a waterfront property, placing Lacey among the
elite top-tier of Annapolis agents. She had imagined their relief that their
only biological daughter had inherited their business sense in some small
measure.
This was the moment she had waited for—the
conversation she had been rehearsing since the moment she received her real
estate license. She’d allow herself that, and worry the rest of the day about
Mick.
Phone in hand, she paused thoughtfully a
moment, and then dialed.
“Lacey?” a voice answered.
“Hey, Vi! How are wedding plans going?”
Vi’s harried voice was brimming with
contempt. “Ugh! What wedding plans? Aside from picking the place, nothing has
been done. I wish he’d listened when I said I wanted to elope. I’m flying to
London tonight to do an interview. How am I supposed to plan a wedding?”
“Why not hire a wedding planner?” Lacey
slowed her pace down the street, in no rush.
“I did. I had to fire her. She just keeps
hounding me with questions like ‘what are my colors?’ My colors? What the hell
is that supposed to mean? Am I a college football team?” Vi shifted her tone as
easily as ever. “How are things there?”
Lacey paused, forcing herself to not cry
on her sister’s shoulder about Mick. There was no reason to cry yet, she reminded
herself. “Well, I just sold my first waterfront property,” she said, hoping the
words would boost her own spirits.
“
Really?
You’re actually done with
closing and everything?”
Lacey found herself grinning. “And
everything.”
“That’s great. Was it that crime scene
one?”
Lacey laughed. “No, that’s still in limbo.
She did re-list it with me, though.”
“So what house was it?”
“A house in a gated community just south
of downtown.”
“Waterfront
and
gated?” Vi let out
a low whistle. “Bet that fetched a pretty price.”
Lacey beamed, remembering the number of
zeros on the commission check. “You’d win that bet.”
“I’m proud of you, Lacey.”
Exactly what Lacey had longed to hear. “At
least
you
are. I’ll have to remind myself of that when I call Mom and
Dad. I can just hear it.” Lacey did her best imitation of her mother’s harsh
tone. “‘Oh, you finally sold something? I hope it will help pull you out of
that credit card debt from those real estate classes you took.’”
“Ha! Don’t feel bad. They do the same
thing to me.”
Lacey stopped cold in the middle of the
street. “They do?”
“Oh, sure. Dad keeps telling me that I
can’t seem to decide whether I’m an economist or a journalist, and that if
people really took me seriously, I wouldn’t have to wear so much makeup on TV.”
“Are you kidding? They brag about you to
me all the time.”
Vi actually snorted. “News to me. So have
you picked out a maid of honor dress yet?” she asked, deftly changing the topic
as easily as the winds change direction on the Bay.
“Was I supposed to?” Lacey leaned against
a nearby parking meter.
“Don’t tell me you’re expecting
me
to. I haven’t even picked my dress, and I’m the bride.”
“Shouldn’t I talk to the bridesmaids about
it?”
“Oh no, it’s just you.”
“You don’t have any bridesmaids? Why not?”
“I don’t have time for friends. I
have women I know through work, but I wouldn’t want any of them to stand by me on
my wedding day. Too personal. That’s why I’m doing the destination wedding
thing. I’m hoping he’ll keep the numbers down on his side. I can’t have just
you standing up there by yourself if he has eight people standing up for him.”
Lacey didn’t know what to say. “Yeah, I
can understand that, I guess.”
“This whole thing keeps giving me flashbacks
to all that birthday party cash I soaked Mom and Dad for. Remember? Who would I
have invited to a birthday party except you?” Vi laughed.
Resting one hand on her hip, Lacey tightened
her grip on her cell phone, a flood of birthday memories crashing over her as
Vi’s words sunk in. She shook her head. “Wait a minute. You didn’t just want
the cash more than a party?”
“Are you kidding? With all the presents
you
scored at your birthday parties? I would have much rather had the party.”
“Huh,” was all Lacey could say, history
as she knew it being rewritten in the span of a second.
Suddenly, and for the first time in decades,
Lacey didn’t feel envious of Vi.
Lacey had two friends waiting home for her
right now, fixing a special dinner to celebrate her closing. They had filets ready
to be grilled and probably a bottle of champagne chilling, knowing Maeve. Lacey
could even picture Bess hanging silly crepe paper or maybe a big congratulations
sign above the kitchen table.
They were just that kind of friends.
Lacey had a beautiful, healthy baby at
home who she got to hold whenever she wanted. She was even about to become a godparent
along with Maeve.
Meanwhile, Vi had a ticket to London. Vi’s
life was exciting, but Lacey felt contented right here in Annapolis, in a
little house on the water that was filled with more warmth than she had
experienced in eighteen years growing up in the Owens’ household.
Suddenly, Lacey wished Vi was right with
her so that she could give her a hug. “You know, Vi, I’m really proud of you,
too.”
“I know. You tell me all the time,” Vi
answered dismissively.
“Good. I just wanted to make sure you knew
that.”
“’Course. I’ve got to hang up now. I’m
almost at the Queens Tunnel and I’ll lose my signal. Love you.”
“Love you too. Have a good trip.” Lacey
snapped her phone shut and dropped it back into her purse.
To hell with her parents. She’d send them
an email later.
***
The sun was low in the sky, just about to
dip behind Maeve’s house, as Lacey pulled into the driveway. The Bay called to
her from the backyard, and Lacey fingers longed to wrap themselves around a
glass of wine as she watched the last of the day’s light melt into the blue
horizon.
These past weeks, her memories of love and
friendship on the back porch wrapped a comforting embrace around Lacey, as she’d
watch the setting sun reflect in the waves and pray for Mick, wherever he was. Sitting
in one of Maeve’s wicker chairs, she could close her eyes and picture him there
with her, sulking behind a bad set of Scrabble letters, eating a piece of
pizza. Laughing. Listening to her. Holding her hand.
As though life were normal.
Putting the car in park, she squinted
against the sunlight, certain the fiery beams were causing a mirage. A
hallucination, maybe. One that looked like…
Mick.
Sitting on the front steps, the image’s
face lifted and eyes met hers. He stood, and her heart nearly stopped.
Mick?
Stepping out of the car tentatively, she
wasn’t sure if she said his name aloud. She blinked several times, terrified
that all the sleepless nights had taken their toll and she was only imagining
him.
But even as tears welled in her eyes and
her vision blurred, he was still there.
Frozen at the side of her car, she stood
paralyzed. For seconds or minutes—she’d never know.
Mick
.
He was alive. He was home.
She darted toward his open arms and melted
into him, so grateful for the feel of his body against her that she was struck
speechless.
They held each other in silence, and when Lacey
finally began to pull herself back from him, Mick only squeezed her tighter.
She choked back a sob when he finally let
her retreat from his embrace. “You’re okay.” Her voice was breathless as she
cupped his face in her hands, still unconvinced he was real. “Thank God. Thank
God, you’re all right.”
She leaned in to hold him again, but then stepped
back awkwardly, remembering the way their last conversation had ended. Blinking
back tears, she longed to erase that last evening from both their memories so
that this moment was not clouded with confusion. But he was alive, she reminded
herself, touching his cheek cautiously, letting his warmth seep into her
chilled hands. Even if he never trusted her again—even if their
relationship could never be saved—it should be enough that he was simply
alive. “I’ve been so worried. We all have. Jack heard some of your team were
admitted to Landstuhl.”
“I know. I talked to Jack en route here
from Andrews. He said I better come straight here, and make you promise you
won’t kick his ass for the false alarm.”
She shook her head. “Never. He’s been a
good friend.” She sent a questioning glance in the direction of the front door.
“Maeve’s not home?”
“No, she’s home.” Mick grinned, amusement
stirring in his tired eyes. “She gave me a hug, then told me she won’t let me
inside till I apologized to you.”
Lacey couldn’t suppress the laugh. A more
dedicated friend she would never find.
“I can’t say I blame her, the way I left
things with you.” Mick paused. “I’m not sure where to start.”
Lacey averted her eyes. “You don’t have to
apologize. I do. What you said to me that night hurt. But it hurt so much
because it wasn’t too far from the truth.”