and Cecilia instinctively thrust out her arms. Drooling as she smiled, Amanda gazed up at Cecilia, her eyes wide with interest. Cecilia froze, unable to stop looking at the baby girl who in other circumstances might have been her own.
Little Amanda returned her look, then smiled and raised her arms, wanting Cecilia to pick her up.
The decision was automatic. Cecilia leaned over and lifted the child. Then Amanda, as though she understood the significance of the moment, wrapped both chubby arms around Cecilia’s neck. Cecilia knew she was being fanciful, but she felt that this child, this year-old baby, recognized all the love stored in her heart for Allison. The daughter she’d never hold again, or sing to, or kiss good-night.
Cathy and Carol paused for breathless seconds, watching Cecilia’s reaction to Amanda.
Tenderly Cecilia brushed the wispy hair from the child’s forehead, kissed her there, then set her back on the floor, where Amanda teetered, recovered herself and walked unsteadily to her mother’s side.
“Carol, I’m going to tell you, too,” Cathy said. “I…you know I recently quit working. Well, there’s a reason for that. I’m pregnant.”
Carol’s eyes lit up. “That’s great!” Her smile faded when she realized that neither Cathy nor Cecilia seemed completely delighted. “What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing from one to the other. “Aren’t you happy?”
Cathy was quick to assure Carol she was pleased. “It’s just that I miscarried the first two pregnancies, and I’m scared to death.”
“I would be, too.” Carol handed Amanda the soda cracker; the little girl was content to sit on the floor, gnawing it. “I’m so sorry, Cathy. I can’t even imagine…” She turned to Cecilia. “Weren’t you in the hospital about the same time as me?” Carol asked.
Cecilia nodded. “My little girl was named Allison.”
“I remember. I always wanted to tell you how bad I felt, but you…well, you didn’t seem to want to talk to anyone.”
“I regret that now,” she said. “I could’ve used a friend.”
“I could use one myself,” Carol said.
The military might have its heroes, but the wives were the backbone of the Navy, Cecilia reflected. These women—and she was now one of them—supported their husbands, their country and each other.
“I don’t know how this pregnancy will go,” Cathy told them, “but I do know that Andrew and I will be able to deal with it, no matter what happens.”
No matter what happens, Cecilia mused. If her friend could be this brave, then she could, too.
Hurry home, Ian, she prayed. Please be safe and hurry home.
Sixteen
If not for Olivia, Grace would’ve dropped out of the Wednesday-evening aerobics class ages ago. But since Dan’s disappearance, she’d found that working out was a great stress-reliever. Never had she sweated so much or breathed so hard. Every movement was done with enthusiasm and energy. Before, she’d always been the one who lagged behind; now she led the class.
“Keeping up with you is going to kill me,” Olivia complained as she followed Grace into the shower room. “What’s gotten into you lately?”
As if Olivia didn’t know. “You have to ask?”
“Well, yes, I understand you’re upset about Dan.”
“That’s not the half of it.”
Olivia wiped her face with a hand towel. “Have you had dinner yet?”
Grace shook her head. With only herself to cook for, it was easier to toss a frozen entrée into the microwave. Wednesdays she generally skipped dinner altogether. By the time she got home from aerobics, she was too tired to eat.
“Not yet.”
“Want to meet at the Pancake Palace?” Olivia suggested.
Grace wasn’t hungry, but it beat walking into an empty house. “Okay.”
She took her time showering and changing into her street clothes. She hadn’t done more than chat with her friend in several weeks, and she was looking forward to a real conversation. Sure, they saw each other, but there was rarely an opportunity to say more than a few words in passing.
Olivia had already secured the booth when Grace arrived. She slid in across from her and reached for the menu tucked, as always, behind the napkin canister.
“Wasn’t this our booth back in high school?” Olivia asked.
Grace had to think about that. Was it? “I don’t remember, but it might be.”
“Remember how Kenny Thomas broke up with me right here in the Pancake Palace?” Olivia reminded her.
“The rat fink.”
Their eyes met and they smiled, chasing memories. But Grace’s amusement faded as she recalled how often she’d met Dan here during their high-school days. How different her life might have been if he’d broken up with her, or she’d had the courage to return his high-school ring. Even then, while she was still a teenager, Grace had sensed that they didn’t bring out the best in each other. Deep down, Dan had known it, too. Then, just before graduation, Grace had discovered she was pregnant. Dan had wanted to marry her and she’d managed to convince herself it was the right thing to do.
“Kelly and I met here for dinner not long ago,” Grace told her, breaking off her thoughts before she fell into the abyss of self-pity. It was the night Kelly had persuaded her not to file for divorce. She’d promised to wait until after the baby was born, but she’d regretted that decision ever since.
“I envy your relationship with your daughters,” Olivia admitted.
“Aren’t you and Justine getting along?”
Olivia gave a slight shrug. “We don’t argue, if that’s what you mean, but we don’t talk openly. I heard through the grapevine that Warren’s asked her to marry him, but she hasn’t even mentioned his proposal to me.”
“Maybe she knows what you’ll say.”
Olivia’s eyes turned thoughtful. “I’ve vowed not to be negative, but it isn’t easy.”
One thing Dan’s disappearance had done was bring Grace closer to her daughters. They talked at least once a day, mostly to encourage and support each other. After the latest episode, they’d decided they could no longer bear not knowing where Dan was. The girls were willing to help with the expense of the private investigator; they felt as desperate for answers as Grace did.
“I hired Roy McAfee again last week.” Grace had talked to him soon after Dan’s disappearance, and decided after his initial investigation that she couldn’t afford his services anymore. As the weeks crept by, she’d come to understand that neither she nor the girls could afford not to hire him. They had to know what had happened to her husband, and there seemed to be no other way. “The frustration is driving me insane.”
“Do
