drop in weight—it was simply the result of her finally finding a diet that she stuck to, finally finding a way to shed those twenty pounds that she always complained were permanently attached to her hips and thighs.
But he couldn’t ignore the rows of prescription medicines that had appeared on the kitchen counter. Painkillers. They were mostly painkillers that Crash knew Daisy resisted taking.
Daisy had told Crash that he and Jake and Nell would all have to learn to grieve on their own time. She herself had no time to spare for sad faces and teary eyes. She approached each day as if it were a gift, as if each sunset were a masterpiece, each moment of shared laughter a treasure.
It would only be a matter of time, though, before the tumor affected her ability to walk and move, to paint and even to speak.
But now, as Crash watched, Daisy was the same as always.
Jake kissed her lightly, sweetly on the lips. “I’m going to take my aardvark into my office and return Dex’s call.”
Dexter Lancaster was one of the few people who actually knew of Daisy’s illness. Dex had served in Vietnam when Jake had, but not as part of the SEAL units. The lawyer had been with the Marines, in some kind of support-services role.
“I’ll see you later, babe, all right?” Jake added.
Daisy nodded, sliding off his lap and straightening his wayward dark curls, her fingers lingering at the gray at his temples.
Jake was the kind of man who just kept getting better-looking as he got older. He’d been incandescently, gleamingly handsome in his twenties and rakishly handsome in his thirties and forties. Now, in his fifties, time had given his face laugh lines and a craggy maturity that illustrated his intense strength of character. With deep blue eyes that could both sparkle with warmth and laughter or penetrate steel in anger, with his upfront, in-your-face, honestly sincere approach and his outrageous sense of humor, Crash knew that Jake could have had any woman, any woman he wanted.
But Jake had wanted Daisy Owen.
Crash had seen photos of Daisy that Jake had taken back when they’d first met—back when he was a young Navy SEAL on his way to Vietnam, and she was a teenager dressed in cotton gauze she’d tie-dyed herself, selling her drawings and crafts on the streets of San Diego.
With her dark hair cascading down her back in a wild mass of curls, her hazel eyes and her bewitching smile, it was easy to see how she’d caught Jake’s eye. She was beautiful, but her beauty was far more than skin-deep.
And at a time when the people of the counterculture were spitting on the boots of men in uniform, at a time when free love meant that strangers could become the most intimate of lovers, then part never to meet again, Daisy gave Jake neither disdain nor a one-night stand. The first few times they’d met, they’d walked the city streets endlessly, sharing cups of hot chocolate at the all-night coffeehouses, talking until dawn.
When Daisy finally did invite Jake into her tiny apartment, he stayed for two weeks. And when he came back from Vietnam, he moved in for good.
During their time together, at least during all the summer vacations and winter breaks Crash had spent with the two of them, he had only heard Daisy and Jake argue about one thing.
Jake had just turned thirty-five, and he’d wanted Daisy to marry him. In his opinion, they’d lived together, unwed, for long enough. But Daisy’s views on marriage were unswerving. It was their love that bound them together, she said, not some foolish piece of paper.
They’d fought bitterly, and Jake had walked out—for about a minute and a half. It was, in Crash’s opinion, quite possibly the only battle Jake had ever lost.
Crash watched them now as Jake kissed Daisy again, longer this time, lingeringly. Over by the window, Nell’s head was bent over her sketch pad, her wheat-colored hair hiding her face, giving them privacy.
But as Jake stood, Nell glanced up. “Is it my turn or yours to make lunch, Admiral?”
“Yours. But if you want I can—”
“No way am I giving up my turn,” Nell told him. “You get a chance to make those squirrely seaweed barf-burgers every other day. It’s my day, and I’m making grilled cheese with Velveeta and bacon.”
“What?” Jake sounded as if she’d said “arsenic” instead of bacon.
“Vegetarian bacon,” Daisy told him, laughter in her voice. “It’s not real.”
“Thank God,” Jake clutched his chest. “I was about to have a high-cholesterol-induced heart attack just from the thought.”
Crash took a deep breath, and went into the room.
“Hey,” Jake greeted him on his way out the door. “You just missed the morning art lesson, kid. Check this out. What do you think?”
Crash had to smile. Calling the object Jake had drawn an aardvark was too generous. It looked more like a concrete highway divider with a nose and ears. “I think you should leave the artwork to Daisy from now on.”
“Tactfully put.” Jake blew Daisy a kiss, then disappeared.
“Billy, are you here for the day or for longer?” Daisy asked as Crash gave her a quick hug. She was definitely much too skinny.
Focus on the positive. Stay in the moment. Don’t project into the future—there would be time enough for that when it arrived. Crash cleared his throat. “I had the last of my debriefings this morning. My schedule’s free and clear until the New Year, at least.” Scooping the puppy into his arms, he glanced at Nell, changing the subject, not wanting to talk about the reasons why he’d arranged an entire month of leave. “Is this guy yours?”
Nell was smiling at him, approval warming her eyes as she put away her sketch pad and pencils and stood up.
“This guy is a girl, and she’s only here on loan from Esther, the cleaning lady, unfortunately.” Nell reached out and scratched the puppy’s ears. She moved closer—close enough that he could smell the fresh scent of her shampoo, and beneath it, the subtle fragrance of her own personal and very feminine perfume. “Jake was afraid that you were going to be sent on another assignment right away.”
“I was asked, but I turned it down,” Crash told her. “It’s been over a year since I’ve taken any leave. My captain had no problem with that.” Especially considering the circumstances.
Nell gave the puppy a final pat and her fingers accidentally brushed his hand. “I better go get lunch started. You’re joining us, right?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Nell just smiled as she left the room.
The puppy struggled in Crash’s arms, and when he put her onto the floor, she scampered after Nell. He looked up to find Daisy watching him, a knowing smile on her face.
“‘If you don’t mind,”’ she said, imitating him. “You’re either disgustingly coy or totally dense.”
“Since I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Totally dense wins. Nell. I’m talking about Nell.” Daisy
