“Army surplus again?”
Her second attempt at being accommodating was less appreciated than the first. This time Jazmine didn’t even crack a smile.
Ali sat in the space between Shana and Jazmine and threw her arms over their shoulders. “If I’ve learned anything in the last few years, it’s that women have to stick together. I can’t be with you, Jazz. That’s all there is to it. I’m sorry, I wish things were different, but they aren’t. If you want, at the end of this deployment, I’ll resign my commission.”
Jazmine’s head rose abruptly. “You’d leave the Navy?”
Ali nodded. This was as much a surprise to Shana as it was to her niece. From all indications, Ali loved military life and had fit into it with comfort and ease.
“Now that your dad’s gone, my life isn’t the same anymore,” Ali continued. “I’m your mother and you’re far more important to me than any career, Navy or not. I won’t leave you again, Jazmine, and that’s a promise.”
At those words the girl burst into tears. Embarrassed, she hid her face in both hands, her shoulders shaking as Ali hugged her.
Ali seemed to be trying not to weep, but Shana had no such compunction. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
It would be so good to have her sister back again. If she had any say in the matter, Ali would move to Seattle so the two of them could be closer.
“If you get out of the Navy, does that mean you’ll marry Uncle Adam?” Jazmine asked with the excitement of a kid who’s just learned she’s about to receive the best gift of her life.
“Who’s Uncle Adam?” Did this mean her sister had managed to find two husbands while Shana had yet to find one? Ah, the old competitive urge was back in full swing.
“He was one of my dad’s best friends,” Jazmine supplied with more enthusiasm than she’d shown since she’d arrived. “He’s cute and funny and I think Mom should marry him.”
Raising one brow, Shana turned to her sister for an explanation. Ali had never mentioned anyone namedAdam.
“Uncle Adam is stationed in Everett. That’s close to here, right?” Jazmine demanded, looking to Shana for the answer.
“It’s a bit of a drive.” She wasn’t entirely sure, never having made the trip north of Seattle herself. “Less than an hour, I’d guess.”
“Uncle Adam will want to visit once he learns I’m here.”
“I’m sure he will,” Ali murmured, pressing her daughter’s head against her shoulder.
“You like this guy?” Shana asked her. Ali was decidedly closemouthed about him, which implied that she had some feelings for this friend of Peter’s.
“Of course Mom likes him,” Jazmine said when her mother didn’t respond. “So do I. He’s totally fabulous.”
Ali met Shana’s gaze and shrugged.
“Another pilot?” Shana murmured.
She shook her head. “He’s a Supply Officer. You’ll like him,” her sister was quick to say, as if this man might interest her romantically. No way. Shana had sworn off men and she was serious about that.
“He said I can talk to him anytime I want,” Jazmine went on. “I can phone him, can’t I?”
“Of course you can.” Shana was more curious than ever about this man her sister didn’t want to discuss.
Shana turned to gaze at Ali, silently pleading for more information. Her sister ignored her, which was infuriating. Clearly, Adam had already won over her niece; he must be the kind of guy who shopped at the army surplus store.
Chapter Three
First thing Monday morning, Shana drove Jazmine to Lewis and Clark Elementary School to enroll her. Shana had to admit her stomach was in knots. The school yard was jammed with kids, and a string of vehicles queued in front, taking turns dropping off students. Big yellow school buses belched out diesel fumes as they lumbered toward the parking lot behind the building.
Shana was fortunate to find an empty parking space. She accompanied Jazmine into the building, although the girl walked ahead of her—just far enough to suggest the two of them weren’t together.
The noise level inside the school reminded her of a rock concert and Shana felt the beginnings of a headache. Or maybe it was caused by all those students gathered in one place, staring at Jazmine and her.
The school bell rang and like magic, the halls emptied. Within seconds everyone disappeared behind various doors and silence descended. Ah, the power of a bell. It was as if she were Moses, and the Red Sea had parted so she could find her way to the Promised Land, or in this case, The Office.
Wordlessly Shana and Jazmine followed the signs to the principal’s domain. Jazmine was outwardly calm. She gave no sign of being ill at ease. Unlike Shana, who was on the verge of chewing off every fingernail she owned.
“This is no big deal,” Jazmine assured her, shifting the backpack she carried. It was the size one might take on a trek through the Himalayas. “I’ve done this plenty of times.”
“I don’t feel good just leaving you here.” They’d had all of one day together and while it was uncomfortable for them both, it hadn’t been nearly as bad as Shana had feared. It hadn’t been good, either.
When they took Ali to the airport, Shana had been the one in tears. Mother and daughter had hugged for an extra-long moment and then Ali was gone. It was Shana who did all the talking on the drive home. As soon as they were back at the rental house, Jazmine disappeared inside her bedroom and didn’t open the door for hours.
Dinner had been a series of attempts on Shana’s part to start a conversation, but her questions were met with either a grunt or a one-word reply. Shana got the message. After the first ten minutes, she said nothing. And nothing was what Jazmine seemed to appreciate most. They maintained an awkward silence and at the end of the meal, Jazmine delivered her plate to the kitchen, rinsed it off, stuck it in the dishwasher and returned to her room. The door closed and Shana hadn’t seen her again until this morning. Apparently kids this age treasured their privacy. Point taken. Lesson learned.
“This must be it,” Shana said, pointing at the door marked Office.
Jazmine murmured something unintelligible, shrugging off the backpack and letting the straps slip down her arms. Shana couldn’t imagine what she had in that monstrosity, but apparently it was as valuable to the child as Shana’s purse was to her.
“I was thinking you might want to wait a bit, you know,” Shana suggested, stammering, unable to identify her misgivings. “Not do this right away, I mean.” The students she saw in the hallway didn’t look particularly friendly. Jazmine was only nine, for heaven’s sake, and her mother was headed out to sea for half a year. Maybe she should homeschool her. Shana considered that option for all of half a second. First, it wouldn’t be home school; it would be ice-cream parlor school. The authorities would love that. And second, Shana was completely unqualified to teach her anything.
“I’ll
