Free The Ocean Between Us by Susan Wiggs Page A

was what he lived for, these moments of simplicitywhen they sat down to share a meal. He wondered if they had any idea how much it meant to him.
    “So,” said Grace, passing the bread. “How was—”
    “Your day, dear,” Katie finished for her. “You always say that, Mom.”
    “Well, I always want to know. Don’t you?”
    “I already know. He filled out some forms, answered a zillion e-mails, had a planning meeting with the senior staff and did all the stuff Captain Crowther didn’t want to deal with, because that’s what the DCAG does.” Katie pushed her glasses up her nose. “Right, Dad?”
    “Pretty darned close, Miss Smarty-Pants.” He caught Grace’s eye. She looked distracted tonight, maybe a little tired. “Thanks for asking.”
    This was his opening to announce the upcoming trip to the Pentagon and then the deployment in November. Not now, he thought. He’d save the news for another time. With school starting Monday, everyone had enough on their minds.
    But was there ever a good time to tell the family you were leaving them? He’d done so many times, but it never got easier.
    He looked around the table and his heart filled up. Although he could command a squadron or air wing, he was helpless when it came to his family and helpless to know whether or not he was doing a good job at home. His background, which included more foster homes than he’d ever bothered to count, hadn’t prepared him for the powerful tenderness of family life. His instincts told him how to land a plane on a carrier deck at night in a storm, but they couldn’t tell him how to talk to his daughters.
    Emma was so pretty she could break your heart with a single blink of those Caribbean-blue eyes. Steve ought to know—she’d broken his often enough. Every time he said goodbye to her, from the time she was old enough to understand what goodbye meant, she had broken his heart. Yet oddly, with all the moving they had done, Emma seemed to adapt the easiest. She actually liked makingnew friends, and found her place in school with seemingly little fuss or effort.
    Brian was his trophy son, and he appeared to like playing that role, bringing home honors in track and baseball, earning decent marks in his classes. He was a prime candidate for any number of colleges, and the Naval Academy was at the top of his list.
    Then there was his little Katydid, so quick you’d miss her if you didn’t keep your eye on her. She read a book every day or two and was so smart she had her teachers scrambling for material, trying to stay one step ahead of her.
    And Grace. The architect of it all. She built this family brick by brick, fashioned it out of hard work and a vision he hoped like hell they both shared. In the upheaval of the move this summer and taking on his new duties, he’d barely had time to sit down and talk to her about anything.
    She used to make time, carving a quiet half hour out of the day so they could discuss whatever was on their minds. He’d never told her how grateful he was for that; he figured she knew. But lately, even she’d been sucked into the breakneck pace of their lives, and those half hours had fallen by the wayside. He missed their time together, but didn’t know how to tell her so.
    It wasn’t his fault, and it sure as hell wasn’t hers, but a hairline fissure had appeared in their marriage, seemingly out of nowhere. Or so he thought. He was almost afraid to mention it for fear of giving it a name and making it real. But he had to trust that things were fine, or nothing else in the world made sense. Grace was different from women who walked away from Navy men. She wasn’t going to bail on him.
    He stabbed his fork into a second helping of chicken. “There’s a barbecue at the Crowthers’ next Sunday,” he said. “The whole family’s invited.”
    “I’m busy,” Katie declared.
    “I’ve got practice,” Brian said.
    He noticed Emma had no objection. The Crowther boy was her age, and he’d called at