Debbie Macomber Navy Series Box Set. Debbie Macomber
push away all thoughts of how empty her life would be after the Mitchell left.
“What’s it like?” Lindy whispered, hardly aware the words had slipped from her mouth.
Intuitively, it seemed, Susan knew what she was asking. “I don’t sleep for the first week. No matter how many times Jeff leaves, it’s always the same. For seven days I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, my stomach in knots. As much as I try I can’t seem to stop fretting and worrying. Finally I’m so exhausted my body takes over, and I’m able to sleep.”
“Rush told me you are one of the strongest women he knows…. The best kind of navy wife.”
Susan’s countenance softened and her cheeks flushed to a fetching shade of rose pink. She dipped her head a little and murmured, “How sweet of him to say so.”
“What does Jeff say about your sleeping problems?” Lindy asked.
Susan shrugged. “He doesn’t know.”
“But…”
“He has enough worries and responsibilities aboard the Mitchell without me burdening him with more. As much as possible I send him off with a smile and handle anything that arises as best I can while he’s gone.”
“I’m afraid,” Lindy admitted reluctantly. “Not because Rush is leaving; I…I can accept that. But I worry about them sailing in the Persian Gulf.” Every night, it seemed, the news was filled with reports of violence in the troubled waters of the Middle East. Before they’d left the apartment she’d heard reports about gunboats that had attempted to attack the U.S. Naval forces that very afternoon. Lindy hadn’t mentioned to Rush what she was feeling, knowing he’d brush off her concern. She wanted to be strong, wanted to be brave for both their sakes.
Susan’s dark eyes clouded and her chin trembled just a little. “After what happened to the Stark, we’re all concerned. You aren’t alone. But if any of us wives were to dwell on the danger, we’d soon be basket cases. I try to put it out of my mind as much as I can. I believe in Jeff, too. He’s damn good at what he does and he’s part of the most advanced naval fleet in the world. My security rests in the fact that he can take care of himself and his men. Rush can, too.”
“I haven’t told Rush how afraid I am.”
“Good.” Susan’s gentle smile was encouraging.
“I…love Rush.” The words came out hoarse and broken. She didn’t have the security Susan and the other navy wives had. Rush had done nothing more than ask her to wait for him. At most, she could be considered his girlfriend, his sweetheart. “I don’t want to lose him.” She dropped her gaze and rubbed her open hands down the front of her jeans, more fearful than ever over what the future could hold. “I’ve only known him two weeks…. I can’t believe I feel this strongly.”
“It was like that with Jeff and me. We married within a month after we met, and he left for six months in the South Pacific almost immediately afterward. Talk about worry!”
“But I thought that area was relatively peaceful.”
Susan cast an affectionate look toward her husband. “It wasn’t that. I…I was more concerned about how attractive Jeff would find those lovely Polynesian girls.”
“Oh.” Lindy hadn’t thought of that.
Susan blushed a little. “I was pregnant at the time, feeling completely miserable and about as sexy as a tuna casserole. Naturally we didn’t know it was twins and I was desperately sick every morning. The highlight of each day was when the mail was delivered. I’d wait all morning and pray there’d be a letter from Jeff. When one finally did arrive, Jeff wrote in detail, telling me about this erotic show he and Rush had managed to see while on shore leave on a small island whose name I can’t even pronounce. Topless dancers and the whole bit. I was so upset I cried for days, convinced he didn’t love me anymore, and if he did that he’d never want to make love to me again.” She pressed her hands over her small breasts. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly richly endowed in that area.”
“I’m not exactly Dolly Parton myself.”
They laughed together in an easy camaraderie, as if they’d known each other for a long time instead of just a few short hours.
“Anyway, I didn’t write back. Every time I thought about him gawking at those other women and their gorgeous boobs, I got all the more furious. Here I was, heaving my guts out every morning and my loyal, true-blue husband was living it up on shore leave on some exotic island and writing home about how randy he was.”
“I don’t blame you for not writing back. I’m not sure I would have, either.”
“Oh, Lindy,” Susan said, pressing her hand on Lindy’s forearm, her eyes wide and serious. “It was a terrible thing to do. Jeff about went crazy. He didn’t know what had happened to me, and I think it nearly broke him mentally. I got the most soul-wrenching, tormented letter from him, begging me to let him know what had happened. His mind had worked everything into such a terrible state that he was convinced I’d lost the baby—we didn’t know it was babies then—or even that I might have left him for another man. When I finally wrote and told him how unhappy I was that he’d gone to a stupid topless show he made me promise never, ever to do anything like that to him again.”
“Was Jeff here when Timmy and Tommy were born?”
Hearing their names mentioned, the twins cooed and stamped their feet, wanting out of their playpen prison. Susan was busy putting the finishing touches on the relish plate, so Lindy lifted first one and then the other, balancing them on her hips. The two were an armful, but Lindy managed, briefly wondering how Susan coped with them twenty-four hours a day.
“It worked out that Jeff was home for the birth, but we were lucky because he was scheduled for sea trials on my due date. The boys obliged us by arriving ten days early.”
Timmy wound his fingers through Lindy’s hair while Tommy took pleasure in playing with the spaghetti strap of her summer top.
“Rush is the boys’ godfather,” Susan explained. “The only times I’ve ever seen him let down his guard were with them—and then tonight with you. He’d make a wonderful father someday.”
“I think he would, too,” Lindy said, kissing the chubby cheek of each twin. The boys laughed and Timmy tried to lean over and grab a pickle from his mother’s hands.
“Just a minute, son,” Susan told him. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
To keep the pair entertained until their mother dished up their dinner plates, Lindy bounced them up and down on her hips in a jaunty, trotting step around the kitchen. She was laughing, her face flushed and happy, when she looked up to discover Rush standing on the other side of the sliding glass door, watching her.
His deep blue eyes were so intense that her breath caught in her throat. Lindy thought for a moment that she might have done something to anger him. His gaze had narrowed, but there was a light shining from it that didn’t speak of anger, but of something else, something far stronger that she couldn’t define. A muscle worked in his cheek, and he seemed to be taking in every detail of her as she bounced the chubby cherubs on her hips.
Jeff must have called him because Rush turned abruptly and left without saying a word.
“Here, I’ll take one of the boys,” Susan offered, lifting Tommy from Lindy’s hip. She carried the squirming child outside where two high chairs were positioned side by side next to the round picnic table.
Lindy followed her onto the patio and slipped Timmy into his seat.
“I learned a long time ago that it’s best to feed the boys before Jeff and I even try to eat.”
Lindy noted Susan had dished up foods her young sons could eat with their hands: chicken legs, finger-Jell-O, pickles and potato chips made up the twins’ meal.
“They’re