He was incapable of giving Cecilia the support she’d needed so badly; he didn’t have it in him. It’d taken her time to reach this conclusion. She could be angry with him, perhaps should have been, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Bobby was Bobby, and she either had to accept him or do without a father, lame as he was in that role.
“I was out at Olympic College this afternoon.”
“You were?”
“Yeah, I signed up for an algebra class and for English.” It was the 101-level, basic stuff, but she had to start somewhere. For the first time in a very long while, she was looking toward the future instead of dwelling on the past.
“Algebra?”
“I was always good with numbers.” Math was something she enjoyed and she’d done well at it in high school. She liked the sense of order mathematics offered her. Everything fell neatly into place, and problems all had solutions. Perhaps that was what appealed to her most.
“How are you going to use algebra?”
Cecilia didn’t know that yet, but this was more a refresher course than anything that would lead to a career. “It’s important that I know how to solve for x,” she said, just for fun. “That’s how I can unlock the secrets of the universe. Like Einstein, you know. It all starts with x.”
Bobby’s eyes widened. “Really?”
It was a joke, and he’d taken her seriously. “Sure. Well, sort of.” Clearly he wouldn’t have been any help with high-school math if he’d been around. “What do you think about me taking these classes?” she asked, seeking his encouragement.
His returning look was blank. “Hey, that’s cool.”
Cool?
She’d done it again. Once more she’d set herself up for disappointment. She should’ve known Bobby’s response would be inadequate at best.
He waited on a customer, and Cecilia slipped off the stool, ready to start her shift at the restaurant.
“We’ll talk later,” Bobby called after her.
She nodded. This was about as deep as any conversation went with him. The man just didn’t get it, and nothing she said or did was going to change that.
Before long, the restaurant started to fill up. Escorting customers to their tables, answering the phone and manning the cash register kept her busy. She preferred it that way. It was when she had time on her hands that her thoughts automatically drifted to Ian. The John F. Reynolds had pulled out of Cedar Cove two days earlier. She’d watched it on the evening news, which had shown the massive aircraft carrier gliding through the protected waters of the cove.
Cecilia had sat intently in front of the television. She couldn’t have stayed away even if she’d wanted to. Ian was gone. Deployed for six months. She wondered if he’d write. She could go to the library and e-mail him herself, but she wasn’t convinced she should. And yet, that was exactly what she longed to do.
Dammit, everything was so complicated! She didn’t understand her own feelings, and certainly not his. All these contradictory emotions—anger and yearning and regret. Well, she had six months to think about the divorce and how she should proceed. Ian had time to think, too. His leaving was good for them both, she told herself. Still, she had to admit she hated the idea of not seeing or talking to him for half a year.
Ever since the news broadcast, Cecilia had thought about what she should’ve said the day they met at the cemetery. She was sorry she’d been so quick to take offense and realized Ian hadn’t been trying to upset her when he asked about the credit card. He’d been clumsy. It occurred to her later that he was no more skilled at expressing his real feelings than she was. She wished she’d hugged him before they parted. It would have felt good to have his arms around her again.
Cecilia was getting ready to leave for the night when her father came looking for her.
“Did you hear about Ian?” he asked.
“Hear what?”
“He might be back.”
“Ian?”
“You said he was on the John F. Reynolds, didn’t you?”
Cecilia frowned in confusion. “You mean the carrier’s returning to Bremerton?”
“That’s the way it sounds. I heard two sailors talking, and they said there’s something wrong with the navigational gear.”
Cecilia knew she shouldn’t be pleased, shouldn’t listen to gossip, either. She’d heard rumors such as this before, and they hadn’t been true.
“You can ask them yourself,” Bobby said with a shrug.
“I think I will.” She entered the bar, which by this time was thick with cigarette smoke. Two sailors sat at the counter, nursing mugs of beer.
Cecilia walked over to them. Both men turned to her, smiling in welcome.
“Bobby here just told me you have some information about the John F. Reynolds,” she said.
The heavier of the two nodded. “Join us?”
“No, thanks, I’m on my way home. Can you tell me what you know?”
The two shared a look of disappointment. “I got a buddy on the John F. Reynolds,” the first one said, “and he e-mailed me that they’re having some technical problems.”
“Then it’s coming back?” Eagerness crept into her voice.
“Maybe. He thinks so, but—”
“For how long?”
“He isn’t sure it’s returning to port. Won’t know for a day or two. Why do you ask?”
“My husband’s on board,” she said quickly.
Both men looked at her left hand, where she continued to wear the plain gold ring.
“You’ll probably hear from him soon,” the first sailor said.
“But don’t get your hopes up,” the second added.
Even though Cecilia knew he was right, she couldn’t help feeling hopeful. Ian might be back—but only God and the Navy knew for how long.
The phone rang just as Olivia was putting the finishing touches on her makeup for her dinner date with Jack Griffin. She glanced at her watch; she still had fifteen minutes before he was due to pick her up.
“Hello,” she said cheerfully, half expecting it to be her mother. Charlotte had fallen completely under Jack’s spell and had been singing his praises ever since they’d met last Friday night.
“It’s Stan.”
Her ex-husband always did have a no-nonsense way about him. He got directly to the point. “You’ve heard from James?”
Olivia had spoken
