“I was just explaining that Mr. Williams makes the decisions on the length of releases. They’re written at sort of a standard word length, and then the editing can cut that in half or double it — depending on where the release is being sent.”
“Right.” Good. She was recovering well. She would stay focused the rest of the afternoon.
Justin finished training her, then he sat back and smiled. “How’s your dad?”
“My dad?” Emily hesitated, fingers poised over the keyboard. She lowered her brow. “You know him?”
“He and my dad spent time together in the Gulf War. I guess they were pretty good friends.”
“We don’t …” She shook her head. “We don’t have the same last name. So how did you figure it out?”
Justin laughed, and the sound was easy and genuine. “Your dad remembered that mine was stationed out here in the Northwest. Once you had the job here, the two of them talked.” He shrugged. “My dad called me the next day and told me you were coming.” He grinned at her. “Said you’d be brand-new and to look out for you. That sort of thing.”
“Is that right?” She allowed a bit of teasing into her tone.
“Yeah.” Justin crossed his ankle over his other knee. “But he didn’t tell me you’d be gorgeous.”
Again the air seemed to leave the room, as if some giant human vacuum was controlling the oxygen level, laughing at her and daring her to try and take a breath. She swallowed and willed her trembling heart to find its normal rhythm again. “Well, thanks.” She looked at the computer. “And thanks for the training.”
From the front counter, Vonda gave them both a look and brushed her hand in their direction. “Looks like we got us a pair of smitten youngsters.” She shook her head. “Don’t fight it, Emily. Once Justin sets his sights on a girl, it’s all over.” She smacked her lips together. “Mmmhmm. ‘Mr. Smooth,’ that’s what we call him around the office.”
Justin held his finger up and started to say something in response, but instead he let his hand fall to his side and gave Emily a lopsided smile. “Vonda doesn’t hold back much.”
She giggled. “I can see that.” Ignoring the strange way she felt, she turned once more to the computer screen. “I better get to work.”
The afternoon passed in a blur, and Emily did her best to stay wrapped up in the press releases. But every now and then, she’d look up and catch Justin watching her. To hear Vonda talk about him, he was a player. Someone who had the same smooth lines for every girl he met.
But his eyes told a different story. By the time Emily left the fort that day, she wondered if she’d ever get to hear that story. Either way, she was sure of one thing.
She would never step foot on the base without looking for the tall, green-eyed soldier with the honest smile that made her heart jump the way no other guy’s ever had.
FOUR
Lauren was checking her email, reading a letter from her editor when the phone rang. Even after living in her Fallon apartment for half a year, the place was sparsely furnished. Just a kitchen table and two chairs, a sofa, a television, and a computer balanced on top of an old stand she’d picked up at a garage sale. Her bedroom held a simple double bed.
The phone sat on the edge of her computer stand, and she answered it on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Mom?” It was Emily. She sounded energetic and hopeful — the way Lauren figured she must’ve sounded before running away to California all those years ago. “How are you?”
Lauren glanced at the email from her editor. It started out the same as the others he’d been sending every few days:
Lauren, we understand your need for a stateside time of respite. But it’s time to take your rightful place in the Middle East. No one can report the war like you can, Lauren. Your successors haven’t been …
She closed her eyes and focused on her daughter. “Good, honey. I’m good.” The email shouted at her, calling her a liar. She turned her back to the computer. “Working on another feature.”
“Really? That’s so cool.” Emily was always easily impressed. She was a writer, after all, so every time Lauren talked about her job with Time, Emily seemed to hang on every word. “What’s it about?”
“iPods and MP3 players, how they’re causing a generation of kids to suffer early hearing loss.” She chuckled. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Oooh.” There was worry in Emily’s voice. “I listen to mine all the time.”
“Just keep the volume down.”
“Okay.” Emily seemed in a hurry, as if she’d called for something other than just to chat. “So how’s Dad?”
The question was rhetorical; Lauren could tell by their daughter’s voice. She made regular attempts to help her parents find common ground, but she didn’t really expect there to be trouble between the two of them — especially not troubles that loomed like a tidal wave over them and their plans for a future. Lauren tried to dismiss the memory of Shane’s face from the night before, when once again they’d fought. She cleared her voice. “He’s great.”
“Good.” Emily laughed. “Mom, you won’t believe this.”
“What?” It felt good to hear her daughter’s enthusiasm. Maybe some of it would rub off, and Lauren could take a fresh look at the way her new life was falling apart. “You scored three goals in your scrimmage yesterday?”
“Well — ” her laugh became a giggle, the way she must’ve sounded as a little girl — “okay, that too.”
“Really?” Lauren stood and wandered across her apartment to the front door. “Seriously, Em? Three goals?”
“Four, but one was called back.”
“The coach must be glad he signed you.”
“I think I’m a little gladder than him, even.” Her words danced with a new sort of joy. “’Cause guess what?”
Lauren chuckled. “I give up.”
“Well,” there was a definite smile in her voice, “you know I’m working at Fort Lewis, at the army base just outside of Tacoma?”
“Yes, I know.” Lauren opened the door and stepped out onto her small porch. She sat in the webbed folding chair there and trained her eyes on the mountains. “Is it working out?”
“Definitely. I’m editing press releases and running errands and answering phones. It’s great experience.” She hesitated. “And I met a guy, Mom.”
A guy … so that was it. Lauren felt herself smile. “Well, well. My busy Emily wasn’t supposed to have time for guys, remember?”
“I still don’t.” She laughed in a shy sort of way. “But it’s the weirdest thing, Mom. I can’t get him out of my head. I mean, every day I go to work and I’m like, you know, looking for him. But I don’t really look for him because then he’d think I like him, and Vonda says he’s Mr. Smooth to every girl he meets.”
Lauren felt a rush of familiar feelings. What her daughter was describing was exactly how she’d felt about Shane once upon a yesterday. “Who’s Vonda?”
“She runs the front desk at the public information office, remember?”
“That’s right.” Lauren wished she were with Emily in person. It’d be nice to hug her daughter and celebrate with her, but she needed to be a mother first. Especially after going so long without being one. “Vonda thinks the guy’s a little too smooth, is that it?”
“He’s not really.” Emily giggled again. “I mean, I don’t think so. I haven’t seen a string of girls coming by to visit him at the office.” She grabbed a quick breath. “And guess what else? His father is Dad’s friend. They were together in the Gulf War.”
So … the boy was from a military family. Lauren tried to hide her concern. Emily sounded so smitten — something Lauren hadn’t heard from her in the six months they’d been getting to know each other. She didn’t want to dampen her daughter’s excitement, even if she could feel herself being outnumbered.
In the distance, two fighter jets roared into the sky and circled wide over the tops of the mountains. She closed her eyes. “How interestin
g.”
“It is interesting.” Emily’s voice lost some of its enthusiasm. “We haven’t gone out or anything. But still … I don’t know, Mom. I’m tearing it up on the soccer field and I love my job, but at night when I talk to God, it’s like I can’t stop thinking about Justin.”
“Be careful, Em. The smooth types can be the worst of all.”
“I know.” She was the sensible Emily again. “I just thought I’d tell you. And hey, I almost forgot. Can you and Dad come for a visit the first week of August?”
“A soccer game?” Lauren’s heart soared. No matter what conflicts needed addressing in her own life, being reunited with her daughter was enough to make her smile.
“Yes. A tournament. Coach thinks we could win it.”
Lauren did the math. The tournament was six weeks away. Truth was, there were times when she didn’t think she’d survive that long before calling for a peaceful surrender with Shane and hightailing it back to the Middle East. But maybe a visit to see Emily would give them something to plan for, a reason to stay together and work things out. If that was possible.
“Mom … how’s that sound?” Emily’s tone was slightly impatient. “Sorry, but I have to run. Soccer practice is in twenty minutes.”
“Okay, well … sure. I mean, yes, I’ll definitely ask your dad. If he can get some time, I can too.”
“Great. Okay, I gotta run, Mom. I’ll call you in a few days. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Lauren hung up, then stared at the phone. It still didn’t seem possible, that her daughter had been alive all these years — that she’d become such an accomplished, responsible, intelligent young woman — all while Lauren was busy trying to forget she’d ever given birth to a daughter — a daughter she thought long dead.
And now … as if there was no harm done, Emily accepted her, welcoming her into every aspect of her life, inviting her to soccer tournaments and talking about her hopes and dreams. Even talking to her about this — her feelings for the young soldier.
It was more than Lauren dared hope for.
The sound of the fighter jets faded, and Lauren stood and moved back into the apartment, to her place at the computer. The email was still on the screen, and this time she read it through.
Lauren, we understand your need for a stateside time of respite. But it’s time to take your rightful place in the Middle East. No one can report the war like you can, Lauren. Your successors haven’t been hard-hitting enough, questioning enough. It’s like they’re buying into the notion that somehow good is going to come from the money and resources and people we’re losing over in Iraq and Afghanistan. Anyway, we’ve arranged for you to step right back into your same position and carry on the way you were before. We have a ten percent pay hike waiting for you, and for Scanlon, of course. He’s still shooting pictures for us, still waiting for his partner to join him. Won’t you think about it, Lauren? The offer’s open-ended. We’ll be waiting for you. Just say the word. Bob Maine.
“Bob, Bob, Bob …” Lauren sighed and read the letter over one more time. It was the same message he’d given her twice that month already. “What am I going to do with you?”
She tried to picture it, saying good-bye to Shane again, packing her things, and returning to the Middle East. She’d be put up in the media headquarters in Afghanistan at first, the same place Jeff Scanlon still lived. The two of them would reconnect, falling into the easy camaraderie they’d always shared. He was a good friend, and she missed him. Missed the work they did together.
Only Scanlon understood how the war had changed her, how reporting the casualties and destruction every day made an impression on one’s mind that never went away — no matter how many stories a person might write on the dangers of MP3 players.
Everything about the offer sounded fantastic. She’d be out of Fallon, rid of the well-meaning military men and women who couldn’t see past the flag, and she’d be doing something worthwhile with her life. All of it sounded wonderful, except one part. The part where she’d have to say good-bye to Shane.
He was the love of her life, wasn’t he? How long had she looked for him, dreamed about him, pined for him after she left Illinois and headed to Los Angeles? She’d wept every mile of the way, broken over the loss of their daughter and angry at their parents for separating them.
Why hadn’t someone — anyone — shown the sense to let them stay together? There was no telling what might’ve happened. The two of them would have stayed on the same page, certainly. They would’ve struggled financially, but they would’ve raised Emily in the faith they’d been brought up in. No taking opposite trails on the journey of life, because they would’ve walked every step together.
Lauren closed down her email program, stood, and wandered to her bedroom. If she were honest, she had to admit her apartment didn’t look like it belonged to someone trying to put down roots in Nevada. Even her clothes were still in stacks on the floor against the wall. The only thing that gave the room any distinction was a framed photograph on the windowsill. A picture of her and Shane, not from this past year, but from her other life. Back when she was just seventeen and believed with all her heart that she and Shane would be together forever.
She went to the photograph, picked it up, and studied the people in the picture. Sometimes, when she was frustrated with the sound of fighter jets and idle military chat, she would look at the photo and convince herself that she’d been too young back then, too naïve to understand love.
Or she’d tell herself that Shane wasn’t the same person, that the kindness in the young man’s eyes was no longer there. He was a steely navy Veteran, an instructor with a bark that caused young pilots to stand a little straighter, fly a little sharper.
But as she stood there, she knew the truth. Shane hadn’t changed. He’d always stood for what was right. No, he wasn’t perfect, but he wanted so badly to be on the good side. And what he lacked, he made up for with a faith that knew no bounds.
No, Shane hadn’t changed.
She dusted her finger over the glass, bringing their faces into clearer focus. They hadn’t been too young to understand love. Their eyes told a story even she couldn’t rewrite. The love they shared back then was pure and raw, uncomplicated by politics or differing viewpoints. It was enough to make her drive away from home and never look back. Enough to keep her searching for him years after it no longer made sense.
So … what now?
She looked out the window and tried to picture Shane, dressed in his decorated white uniform, sitting at a desk that overlooked the entire Top Gun airfield. She would tell him about Emily’s offer, about taking a trip to Tacoma and seeing where their daughter lived and played and worked. But she was kidding herself if she thought that was going to solve anything.
She’d been asking God what chance they had, and how she could ever become the sort of military wife Shane needed. She’d tried swallowing her opinions, muffling them, and banishing them altogether. But always they came back, and always she and Shane argued because of them.
She set the photograph back on the windowsill. She’d been looking for an answer to her prayers, searching her heart and Shane’s eyes, and examining their relationship every time they’d been together lately. God’s answer had to be somewhere — His will as clear as the love that once shone from their faces.
When she was around Shane, she still felt weak in the knees, her heart still responded the way it had when she was a girl. She loved him as she would never love another man. But their differences loomed larger every time they were together.
She looked out the window at the streets of Fallon, and slowly, gradually, it hit her. Maybe God had been trying to answer her prayers all along. Maybe he’d tried once, twice, three times. Nine times. But this time — finally — she was able to hear what He was telling her. The message hurt her heart even to consider it. It wasn’t spoken with the voice of God, of course. But with one that was even more familiar.
The voice of her editor, B
ob Maine.
FIVE
The breakthrough happened that same afternoon, the day Emily shared her feelings with her mother. She’d been determined not to make the first move with Justin. There were countless reasons why. She was busy, she had to be dedicated to her team, she was still getting used to the Tacoma area, she didn’t know him well enough.
The list was long.
But that didn’t change the way she felt every time he walked into the room. He was broad shouldered with a rugged face and a quick sense of humor. Just like her dad. Already she knew that Justin’s faith, his beliefs, mattered as much to him as hers did. Even so, she wouldn’t make her feelings obvious. Especially after the Mr. Smooth comments from Vonda. If Justin Baker was a smooth talker, let some other girl fall for him. She was certainly too busy to be taken on a meaningless ride.
That afternoon, she was editing releases when he pulled a chair up beside her and waited for her to look at him. When she did, she couldn’t stop her breath from catching in her throat. She kept her tone light. “More training?”
“If you need it.” He gave her a look that made her laugh.
“Not really.” She raised one eyebrow. “See, I had this teacher, and, well … he was so talented, I don’t have a single question.”
“That’s good.” He ran his tongue along his lower lip and shifted in his seat. It was the first time he’d looked nervous. “Hey, Emily, I want to clear something up.”
“Okay.” She turned to face him.
“I hear you over there, Justin Baker, all flirty and everything.” Vonda was a relentless teaser. She stood at her desk and winked in their direction. “Just go on ahead and get over yourself, Mr. Smooth. Ask the poor girl out, already. She’s dying for you to do it.” She made a loud exasperated sound and sat down hard on her seat. “Love is wasted on the youth, I tell you. Wasted!”