The Ocean Between Us. Susan Wiggs
affect the whole family. The kids are going to college. Sure, Brian is headed for the Naval Academy, so there won’t be any tuition for him, but…”
Grace figured it was the wrong time to set him straight about Brian and the Academy, so she bit her tongue.
“But what about the girls?” he asked. “Even with what we’ve set aside, it’s going to be tough enough paying tuition. This isn’t the time to be taking on a big mortgage.”
“No, it’s not the time. We should have done it years ago. The down payment can come from my grandmother’s estate, and we can easily qualify for a VA loan.”
He blew out a long-suffering sigh. “If you absolutely need a house, let’s find something in our price range. This is waterfront property. It’s twice what we can afford.”
“We’ve been saving for years.”
“Look, we had a plan, Grace. We were going to wait.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I want this house, Steve. That’s what people use their money for. It’s what they save for.” She held back from pointing out that everyone else their age seemed to be homeowners, many of them on their second or third home.
He scowled at the list price. “I know you’re a genius with the budget, Grace. But a house—” he pushed the flyer away from him “—was something we always said we’d talk about…later. And this one is completely beyond our means.”
“What if I found a way to afford it?” she asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“I could work.” The idea had been simmering inside her even before her encounter with Marcia. Now a new sort of energy heated up. This was a possibility, not a daydream. Maybe she should have approached Steve differently, eased into the topic with him, but like he said, he was leaving. At the moment, he was glaring at her as though she was the enemy.
“I’m not a traitor,” she said. “This is not some wacko idea I’ve had. And I’m not talking about a part-time clerical job on base somewhere. It finally hit me today. There’s something I’m good at, and I could actually make a career out of it. I’m going to be an executive relocator.”
“A what?”
“Executive relocator—someone who helps people move. In the civilian world that’s worth something.”
“It sounds sketchy to me.”
“Don’t you dare be condescending.”
“I’m being practical. Setting yourself up for business is a long-term proposition.”
“These days a business can be run almost entirely from the Web.” She sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her knees up to her chest. “I don’t need a physical location, just a virtual presence on the Web, a voice on the phone. I’ve been doing it for years as an ombudsman, anyway.”
“I know that, Grace. You have incredible talent. Hell, I’ve seen you juggle schedules and plan a move like an air traffic controller. I’ve seen you find schools for kids with special needs, boarding kennels for dogs and parrots and drug rehab for more personnel than I care to remember. The families of the air wing need you. You’re too damned busy for a regular job.”
“Will you listen to yourself?” she said, incredulous.
“Grace, honey, I don’t want you to have to work for a living. That’s my job. I want you to be here for the kids.”
“While you were out they grew up, Steve. They don’t need me home twenty-four hours a day anymore.”
“Maybe I need you there, Grace. Did you ever think of that?”
“My God, no. I can honestly say I never did. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
He pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and paced the room. He always got restless when something was bugging him.
She found herself staring at his chest. Between his perfectly sculpted pecs nestled a St. Christopher medal he never took off. She’d once asked him where it came from. He said someone gave it to him just before he went to sea for the first time. Now the dark hair on his chest was sprigged in gray, which she found unaccountably sexy. Why was it that he seemed to become more attractive as he aged, while she just seemed to turn soft and faded? It wasn’t fair. He didn’t need his looks. He had everything else.
“It’s not that we can’t afford it,” he said. “We can, if we’re careful. But years ago, we agreed that owning a house doesn’t fit our lifestyle. When I retire, we’ll go anywhere you want. That was always the plan.”
“Plans can change.” Once upon a time, she had agreed with him about the burden of a house, given their way of life. But once upon a time was long ago.
“When did you change the rules on us?” She tried to answer, but he cut her off. “A house is a burden. A financial hemorrhage. What’s the point of buying a place when we’re moving in a few years?”
“What’s the point? How about our future? How about doing something for us instead of the Navy for a change?”
“I thought you were on board with our long-term plans. You’ve raised the three best kids in the world. I’m riding high in the Navy. What can a career for you add to that?”
“I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
“I can’t believe what you’re asking of me.” He opened a dresser drawer and started rummaging around. “Why now? Why this house?”
“There’s something about it, Steve. It’s special. At least come and see it with me.”
“It’s pointless, Grace. A waste of time.”
“I don’t need your permission to buy a house,” she said.
His back stiffened. “You wouldn’t do that.”
She had no idea whether she would or not. He seemed a lot more sure of her than she herself was.
“We both agreed that we wouldn’t get a permanent house of our own until I retire,” he repeated.
“So retire, and we’ll buy the house.”
“Very funny, Grace.”
“Maybe I wasn’t joking.”
He yanked a T-shirt over his head. “Yes,” he said. “You were.”
CHAPTER 8
“It’s the last official night of summer,” Emma said after they dropped off Katie and Brooke at the theater.
“How’s that?” Brian asked, jiggling his knee as he signaled to pull out into the road. Even while driving, he never sat still. He was always drumming, tapping or somehow moving around. It drove his teachers nuts, but his coaches appreciated all that excess energy.
“Dipshit,” she said. “School Monday.”
“Yippee.”
“So not only is it the last night of summer, it’s the last Saturday night before senior year.” The last time she’d go school shopping with her mom and Katie, the last time she and Brian would head out into a clear, cool night, looking for a fitting way to mark the end of summer before they went their separate ways.
He eased out onto the road. “Yeah, so?”
“So nothing,” said Emma, tucking away an old feeling of exasperation. “It was just an observation.” Sometimes she wished her twin had been a girl. Brian was such a guy. So dense and literal.
“We should make the most of it, then,” he said a moment later, surprising her. “Where’s the party?”
“Mueller’s Point,” she said, “as usual.” They knew all the common