The Ocean Between Us. Susan Wiggs
from a regular college application.”
“Except for the blood test, urinalysis, dental X rays, physical aptitude exam…” Brian counted them off on his fingers. “Oh, and they’re not going to like my tattoo and body piercings one bit.”
“What tattoo and body piercings?” Katie demanded, craning her neck to study her brother.
“The ones I might get one of these days,” he said. “Now that I’m eighteen, it’s all up to me.”
Clearly bored with her brother, Katie turned to Steve. “Can we get a dog?”
She had been asking all summer. She asked every summer, he remembered. “We’ve talked about this before. A family pet is—”
“One more thing to worry about,” Katie interrupted, exaggerating his Texas accent.
“It’s one more thing to love,” said Emma.
Steve and Grace exchanged a look. Both knew better than to take the bait. The conversation was in danger of turning into a squabble that had no resolution. With characteristic skill, Grace steered the topic around to other matters and brought the meal to a successful conclusion. She did this all the time, he realized, watching her pump Katie for details on the bike trip she’d made with her two new friends today. Grace smoothed out the wrinkles, anticipating trouble before it appeared.
“I’m proud of you for making friends so quickly this summer,” she told Katie.
“Like I have a choice,” Katie said.
“You don’t,” Grace said, getting up from the table. “None of us do.”
Maybe it was his imagination, but Steve sensed a subtle tension in the air. It was probably all in his head, he thought, watching Grace serve a dessert of strawberries in little glass bowls.
Sometimes he was so grateful for his family, it made his chest ache. That was the hell of having a job like his—he missed crucial moments in their lives. And even the periods of deepest contentment never lasted. But maybe, he conceded, the job made them sweeter, made him appreciate them more. Grace used to tell him so all the time, but she hadn’t mentioned it lately.
After dinner, the kids got ready to go out. Steve could hear Brian and Emma upstairs arguing. The two of them shared the Bronco II, and if their plans for the evening didn’t happen to coincide, they sank into one of their legendary disputes. He wondered why, after all these years, they still bothered. It was a bit like shadowboxing.
The twins were so alike, blond and athletic, with identical blue eyes. They had the sort of looks older women fussed over in grocery stores. When they were little, Grace used to push them around in the “double wide,” a dual stroller she took everywhere. By the time Katie came along, that stroller had a lot of miles on it. Katie occupied a sling-like compartment in the rear of the contraption. She was such a quiet, unobtrusive little soul. One time—Grace swore it was only once—she had actually set her diaper bag on top of the baby, having forgotten until a little kitten mew of distress alerted her.
The expected squabble subsided without intervention, and Steve let out the breath he’d been holding. The twins had entered a phase of their relationship in which they were starting to like each other on a selective basis. Perhaps as the concept of leaving home became ever more real to them, they decided to explore the deep and mysterious heart of their twinship. Whatever it was, Steve would not complain. Especially since Katie, his awkward colt of a daughter, seemed to be experimenting with her own brand of rebellion here and there.
At the moment, Katie was stretched out on the sofa, reading a book. Her long, skinny legs—Olive Oyl legs, she lamented—were draped over the backrest, her head hanging off the side at an impossible angle. She read with deep concentration, seeming to inhale the story through her eyes. Steve walked over and mussed her hair playfully, earning a we-are-not-amused glare. He bent down to see what she was reading. “Beneath the Wheel by Hermann Hesse. The feel-good book of the year.”
“At least it makes my life seem less depressing.”
“Since when is your life depressing?”
“Since Brian and Emma get to go out tonight and they’ve already got tons of friends and not one person even cares if I exist—”
The phone rang. “I’ll get it,” she shrieked, flinging aside the book and clearing the coffee table in a single leap.
“She ought to go out for the track team. I’m thinking hurdles.” Steve’s gaze followed her as she streaked from the room. “What’s this about her depressing life?”
Grace smiled as she wiped down the dining room table. “Wait five minutes. Her mood will shift.”
It took less than five minutes. Portable phone in hand, Katie rushed back into the room, bursting with smiles. “I’m going to the movies with Brooke Mather,” she announced. Then she locked eyes with Steve and cleared her throat. “May I go to the movies with Brooke Mather? The eight o’clock show at the Skywarrior?”
The base cinema was crowded with teens each summer and had been for decades. Steve wondered idly what it would be like to watch the decades slip by in one place.
“Who’s driving you?” asked Grace.
“We can ride our bikes.”
Grace threw the sponge into the sink. “Nice try, kiddo.”
“We can.”
“Of course you can. But you’re not going to. You know the score, sweetheart. The base is—”
“I know. I know. Too crowded with clueless drivers who don’t watch for bikes, especially after dark.”
“Riddled with revved-up Navy guys who have only one thing on their minds,” Emma chimed in, coming down the stairs.
“Yeah, Dad,” Katie said, “what’s with all the revved-up Navy guys? Aren’t you senior officers supposed to keep discipline?”
“No,” he said, “we’re supposed to throw our unfledged daughters in their paths as virgin sacrifices. Go ahead. Ride your bikes. It’ll appease the gods.”
Her face fell and her cheeks ignited. Too late, Steve realized his sarcasm had been too harsh. Lately, he seemed to have an uncanny ability to make his smart daughter feel stupid.
“I’ll take her,” Emma said as Katie studied the floor.
“Take her where?” Brian demanded, clumping downstairs. In a rugby shirt, khaki shorts and Top-Siders, he looked more J. Crew than United States Navy. But Steve didn’t say anything.
“You’re going to take me to Brooke’s, and then you’re giving both of us a ride to the movies.” Katie recovered quickly and addressed her brother in a bossy tone.
“And when it’s over, you’re bringing them home,” Grace added. “Please.” It was the system they had worked out over the summer. The twins were responsible for their sister. It was the price they paid for car privileges. Katie took full advantage of her power over them, particularly Brian. In front of her friends, she liked to sit in the back seat and direct him with a regal “Drive on, James.”
The customary rush to the door ensued. Whereabouts were verified, curfews set, cell phones confirmed operational. As soon as they departed, Steve headed into the study to check his e-mail—the bane of his command these days. On the desk he found a stack of notes in Grace’s handwriting. He recognized the names of shipping companies and local agencies and clubs, along with women’s names and numbers. She belonged on the Navy’s payroll, considering all she did for its families. That was Grace—helping, always helping. Sometimes she was so busy helping other families that the Bennetts were on autopilot.
At dinner she had seemed quieter than usual. Sometimes Grace reminded him of the calm, clear water above a reef. Placid on the surface, a lot going on underneath, invisible yet very real. But he was a flyer,