Ever After (14 page)

But it was too late. Her mother had made up her mind. The phone call was only her way of being courteous enough to tell Emily herself, rather than waiting for her father to tell her the news.

She’d called her dad the moment she hung up from her mother. By then she was crying, unable to grasp what had happened and at a loss to do anything about it. “Dad … tell me it isn’t true.”

He waited until she had control of herself, and then he told her that yes, it was true. “Your mother has a lot of searching to do, Emily. Maybe we both do. Pray for us. This isn’t what either of us really wants.”

Later she’d shared every detail with Justin, how frustrated she’d been and how helpless she’d felt. She peered out across the water. The subtle vibration of the cruise ship engine vibrated against her back. “Before, I always knew there was something I could do. Like it was up to me to find my parents and reunite them.” She looked at him. “But now … now this is their decision. Her decision. It doesn’t matter what I want, they have to work things out for themselves.”

Justin took her in his arms and stroked her back. “It’s something they need to figure out. Especially your mom.” He released her but kept his hand around her shoulders. “God has a plan for them, just like He has a plan for us. If that means the two of them should be together, then they’ll figure it out.” He kissed her. “I’ll pray for that, okay?”

A trio of seagulls swooped low along the side of the ship and then lifted out over the Sound. Emily watched them fly away, and she remembered something. She’d never shown Justin the pages from her mother’s journal, the way her parents had been so in love with each other. A week ago, she’d made copies of the writings and tucked them in her purse, intent on showing him. But she’d forgotten about them until now.

“Hey — ” she picked her purse up and dug around in one of the side pockets — “I almost forgot.”

“What?” His voice held a desperate knowing. They had only hours left, after all.

“My mother’s journal. I was going to show you, remember?” She pulled out the folded pages. “I only have to look at this to know they belong together.”

He leaned his shoulder into the side of the ship. “Read it.”

She smiled. This was something else she liked about being with Justin. The easy way they had together. She scanned down the page and found her favorite spot. “This was what she wrote their junior year of high school. Spring of 1985.” She hesitated, then with a steady voice, she began. “ ‘Shane and I talked about love. Real love. We both think it’s weird that our parents don’t understand how we feel about each other.’ ” She smiled at Justin.

“Parents never change.”

“Nope.” She found her spot and kept reading. “ ‘They act like we’re a couple of kids who have no clue what love is. But here’s what I’ve learned when I’m with Shane.’ ” She bit the inside of her lip, staving off the surge of emotions in her heart. “ ‘Real love waits in the snow on your front porch so you can walk to school together in the fifth grade. It brings you a chocolate bar when you fall and finish last in the seventh grade Olympics.

“ ‘Real love whispers something in the middle of algebra about your pink fingernail polish so that you don’t forget how to smile when you’re doing math, and it saves a seat for you in the lunchroom every Friday through high school. Even when the other baseball players think you’re stupid.’ ” Emily laughed and caught Justin’s eyes.

“Your mom was quite the writer, even back then.”

“Yes.” She ignored the tear rolling down her right cheek. “ ‘Real love has time to listen to your hopes and dreams when your parents are too busy with the PTA or the auxiliary club or the business they run at the local bank.

“ ‘Real love stays up late on a Saturday making chocolate chip cookies together, flicking flour at you and getting eggshells in the batter and making sure you’ll remember that night the rest of your life. And real love thinks you’re pretty even when your hair is pulled back in a ponytail and you don’t stand perfectly straight.’ ” Emily’s voice cracked and she had to stop for a moment. When she regained her composure, she finished. “ ‘Real love is what I have with Shane. I just wanted to say so.’ ”

“Hmmm.” Justin put his arm around her again. “That’s beautiful.”

“Exactly.” She dabbed at her tears, folded the note, and put it back in her purse. “Sometimes I wonder how long it’s been since my mom read her own words.”

“You could send that to her.” He stroked her shoulder. “Make a copy and mail it to her.”

“True.” She hadn’t thought of that. When she found her mother last winter, she gave her an entire box of her short stories and journals. But she doubted her mother had read through them, the way Emily had — line for line — when she wasn’t sure she’d ever even find her mother. She looked up at Justin. “I might do that. Maybe it would help.”

“Right.” He stood and moved to the railing. Then he held out his hand to her.

She took it and found her place beside him. “The water’s so dark.”

“It’s like that off Kelso too.” He lifted his chin, and the ocean breeze washed over his face. “Growing up, my dad used to take me fishing along the waterfront and he’d always tell me the same thing. ‘Don’t go out past your ankles, son. The water’s deep along the Northwest coast.’ ”

“I love how you and your parents are, how close you are.” They rested their elbows on the railing, and she noticed her new bracelet. She’d told him the truth. She wouldn’t take it off, not as long as he was away and she was praying for his return.

“I’ll miss them. And my sister.” He turned his head and looked at her. “But not like I’ll miss you.”

She didn’t want to talk about that yet. “Tell me about Kelso. What was it like growing up there?”

“Very different than Wheaton.” He grinned and turned his attention back to the water. “At least that’s my guess.”

“Wheaton was nice, but it’ll always be a suburb of Chicago. The big city feeling’s never very far away.”

“I used to long for a place like that.” He chuckled. “But by the time I was in high school, I began to appreciate what I had in my own little town. The fact that my teachers had students who were the
kids
of students they’d had twenty years before.” He was quiet for a moment. “There were parades and community picnics, and after spending a lifetime there, you couldn’t go to the grocery store without running into ten people you knew.”

“Really?” Emily liked the idea. “They probably gave you a big send-off when you enlisted.”

“They did. My family held my going-away party at the American Legion hall, and half the town showed up.” He looked like he was picturing the event. “Kelso’s a blue-collar town, really. Lots of folks in shipping and construction. And they fly the flag higher than any people I know.”

“I love that. How America’s working class is so patriotic. They’re the heartbeat of this country, for sure. The soul and strength.” The wind was making her cold. She moved closer to him, so their sides were touching. “You could see it at the last election, the way the heartland, the country’s backbone, was so supportive of family values and military strength.”

“Yep. My hometown’ll be supporting me this time, same as last. Tying yellow ribbons around trees and flying flags. That sort of thing.”

The captain came over the loudspeaker then and announced that they’d be returning to the pier in five minutes. Emily looked at Justin as the message ended. It was one more reminder that their time together was borrowed.

“Someday, I want to take you on a real cruise.” He turned so he was facing her. They were still alone on the deck, trying hard to be lost in the moment as if they had forever and not just five minutes. “We’ll go somewhere warm where the water is shallow and clear and pale blue green.”

“Sounds wonderful.” She faced him and slid her feet between his. “But this was wonderful too.” She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you. For everything.”

He slid his arms around her waist and held her tighter than before. “I wish I had another week. Even another day.”

Her hands came up along the back of his neck. “Not me. I want the six months to be over. The sooner the better.”

Fifty yards away, a small speedboat whizzed by, and a group of guys on board howled in their direction. “Hey!” one of them shouted. “Go for it, man!”

Justin grinned and nuzzled his nose against hers. “Yep.” He let out a soft moan. “I wish that too sometimes.”

She felt her face grow hot. She understood what he meant, what the guys on the speedboat meant. The feelings she had for him took her places she knew better than to hang around. “Someday.”

“I know.” He kissed her, moved his lips over hers in a way she would remember long after he left in the morning. When he drew back, there was no denying the passion in his eyes. “Someday.”

They felt a gentle thud as the ship reached the dock, and again the captain came on, thanking the passengers for joining them on the cruise and asking everyone to drive safely as they left. Justin laughed and took a step back. “I think that’s our cue.”

Her body ached to be near him, to stay near him. But God had provided a way to protect them from making bad choices before, and today was no different. They joined hands and left the ship. It was still only four o’clock, and for the next two hours they walked through Pike Place Market, checking out the shops and smiling at the strange people they saw along the way, the man juggling raw fish, and the girl in flowing gauze playing her harp blindfolded.

“You wouldn’t see that in Wheaton!” She laughed and linked her arm through his. The hours flew, and before they left, he took her to the same restaurant where they ate on their first night out together. He even requested the same window table.

After dinner, he took her back to PLU and parked. Both of them knew the hour that lay ahead would be neither quick nor easy. They walked to their favorite spot, the bench just down the path from her residence hall. It was sheltered by a hedge of bushes on one side and a grassy field and evergreens on the other. Every time they sat there, they felt completely alone.

They looked at his scrapbook again, and she admired once more the travel mug he’d given her. The sun set before nine o’clock, and for the next half hour they sat there sharing kisses and sweet memories of every happy time they’d spent together that summer.

Finally, it was time for him to go. His flight was set for six in the morning, which meant he needed to leave the barracks by four. His commanding officers wanted the group that was deploying in bed by ten-thirty. His family would pick him up and take him to the airport, saving their good-byes for his final hours in Tacoma. But tonight belonged to her.

He walked her to the steps, and then — in a spot where no one in the building could see them — he eased her into his arms. “What a summer, huh?”

Her heart raced. She felt like they were on the Titanic, sliding off the deck with no way to stop, no way to keep from falling into the icy waters below. “Justin.” She held onto him, needing the feel of his arms around her. And suddenly she could see him, crouched down behind a broken wall, gunfire zipping through the air overhead. “Please!” Her voice was a desperate cry. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

“Baby …” He ran his hands down her back, along her arms, then he eased back and searched her face. “I’ll come back. I promise. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t.” She shook her head, terrified of the feelings that stood like crumbling mountains all around her.“You can’t promise that.”

“But I believe it.” He touched her face, and the feel of his hands was like velvet. “I’ve done this before, remember?”

She clung to him, and every heartbeat felt like the clock ticking, counting down the time they had left together. Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “Take … take me with you. Wherever you go … I wanna be there too.”

“I wish I could.” He kissed her tears, kissed them as they fell from her eyes.“You have my heart.” He held her necklace, the tiny heart that hung there. “Don’t forget that.”

Sobs came over her then. She hadn’t wanted to do this, hadn’t wanted to break down until she was safe in her room. But if she never let go, if she held him this way and never said good-bye, then he would miss his plane and maybe he’d change his mind. Maybe Iraq didn’t need him, after all. Not when the Veterans and the schoolkids and the teens at the center all needed him. Not when Buster needed him.

Not when she needed him.

“Hey.” He kissed another tear. “Every now and then, when you have a day off, maybe you could drive down to Kelso and take old Buster for a walk. Tell him I’m thinking of him.”

She hung her head against his chest and grabbed three quick breaths. “O-o-okay.”

“And stop by the teen center. Give ’em updates for me, alright?”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond. She held onto him; he felt so whole and good and right. Justin Baker, the greatest guy she’d ever known.
Bring him home, God … please. Don’t let anything happen to him.

“Emily?” He eased back a bit and lifted her chin.“Will you do that, will you go there for me?”

She nodded. There was a question she wanted to ask, and now seemed like the time. “Are you afraid?”

He waited, searching her eyes. “Yes.”

She sniffed. “You hide it well.”

“Thanks.” He breathed in slowly. “Soldiers aren’t supposed to be afraid.”

“Justin …” Never mind that she looked like a mess, that her tears were coming in buckets. She wanted to stand in the middle of Fort Lewis and make an announcement.
You can have any soldier you want, but not this one. Because this is the one I love! He’s too good to work the front lines, too good to lose.
But the time for announcements, for changing his mind, had passed.

He was going, and she was only making it harder by losing control.

She steeled herself against the pain and stood straighter than before. “Have you figured it out yet?”

“What?” He had tears in his eyes too, but he was keeping his composure.

“How we’re supposed to say good-bye?” She allowed a handful of quick sobs, and then she held her breath.
Enough. Get a grip, Emily. Come on.
She pursed her lips and blew out. “Okay, wow.” She tried to smile, because otherwise she would fall to the ground and weep for a month. “Sorry.”