Cedar Cove Collection (Books 1-6). Debbie Macomber
a day or two older than Allison would have been. Cecilia dreaded seeing the baby and was drawn to her in equal parts.
“Hello, Carol,” she said in a friendly voice, pretending she was at ease with the other woman. Little Amanda was toddling happily around the apartment, examining everything in sight, reaching for books, trying to grab knickknacks, pulling at the curtains.
“Come here, Amanda,” Carol urged, holding out her arms for her daughter. The child immediately lurched toward her mother, shrieking with pleasure.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Cathy said, gripping Cecilia’s hand tightly as if to let her know she understood.
“We were just talking about the John F. Reynolds,” Carol explained, bouncing the child on her lap.
“Carol came by with the latest news,” Cathy said.
“I just heard they’re heading back,” Carol squealed.
“The John F. Reynolds is coming back to the shipyard in Bremerton?” Cecilia wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding. Where the aircraft carrier would go for repairs had been undecided.
“Yes!” No one could doubt Cathy’s excitement.
“When will they get here?” Sheer joy raised Cecilia’s voice.
“It shouldn’t be long.”
Cecilia felt hopeful about her marriage, especially after the last few weeks. Ian had communicated with her practically every day. In the beginning, most of what they’d exchanged had been ordinary, everyday information. Facts more than feelings. But as the weeks went on, they’d both felt ready to venture into more dangerous territory—their daughter and her death.
In the process, Cecilia realized that she’d heaped too much of the blame on Ian’s shoulders. She hadn’t meant to, but trapped in grief and pain, she’d lashed out at him. It wasn’t fair, she’d known that even at the time, but she hadn’t been able to prevent those reactions. Dealing with his own shock, Ian hadn’t been much help to Cecilia. Almost a year had passed now, giving each of them a new perspective on the role they’d played in nearly destroying their marriage.
“Let me get the baby a cracker,” Cathy said, moving into the kitchen.
“That’s not necessary,” Carol told her.
“Oh, I want to.”
Cathy looked pointedly in Cecilia’s direction. “Come and give me a hand,” she murmured.
Cecilia jumped up with alacrity.
Carol seemed confused and a little affronted. Cecilia felt bad about that, but Cathy obviously had something important to tell her.
“Andrew knows about the baby,” Cathy whispered the minute they entered the kitchen.
“How?”
“I told him. I had to. He wanted to know why I quit my job. I tried to edge around the truth, but we made a promise never to lie to each other and so I…I explained that I’m pregnant.”
“And?”
Cathy stared down at the floor. “He’s afraid, just like I am, and kind of hurt that I hadn’t told him sooner.”
“Under all of that I’m sure he’s thrilled.”
Cathy nodded. “I know he is. We both want this baby so much.”
Cathy seemed about to dissolve into tears and might have if little Amanda hadn’t let out a frustrated cry. Cathy hurriedly found a soda cracker and brought it into the living room.
Carol was busy picking up toys. “It’s time I went home,” she murmured.
“You just got here,” Cathy protested.
“I know…it’s just that…” She glanced at Cecilia, as if to say that now Cathy’s other friend had arrived, she was obviously less welcome.
Ever sensitive, Cathy shook her head. “I hope you’ll forgive me for being so rude, but I needed to tell Cecilia something. I didn’t mean to exclude you.”
“I understand,” Carol said. She reached for Amanda, who eluded her mother’s arms and waddled toward Cecilia. The baby stumbled 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.