Surrender (21 page)

“Let me see that sweet little baby!” Elodie said, rushing us at the door of their house in Monterey.

“Me?” Will asked, pointing to himself.

“No, she means me,” Neal said behind him, eliciting chuckles all around.

Elodie smiled at the group gathered at her stoop. “You're all wonderful, really, but I was talking about Lucy.”

Neal and I stepped aside to let Henry through, who had a near-one-year-old cradled in one arm. “She fell asleep in the car,” he said in a hushed voice.

“I'm surprised she didn't wake up when we took her out of the car seat,” Elsie said, hugging her mom then setting down the various diaper bags and baby items on the floor.

“Well, look who's all here!” John's voice boomed throughout the house as he came toward us with open arms; we all quickly turned to him with fingers up to our lips.

“Henry, are you ever going to let me hold my granddaughter?” Elodie asked with a teasing grin as we all migrated to the family room.

Elsie chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

Henry smiled over at his wife then down at the sweet little bundle in his arms. After a few moments he gently—if a little reluctantly—handed her over to her grandmother. “I didn't want to wake her. She didn't sleep much on the plane,” he said.

John looked around the room. “It's good to see everyone again in one place,” he said, looking very pleased. “Henry, how's the beat?”

His son-in-law shrugged, well aware of everyone's curious gaze. “It's fine, sir. Doing better.”

“I imagine having a baby adds to the stress.”

“It's the opposite, actually,” Henry said. “Elsie and Lucy are my glue. No matter what I go through out there, coming home to them at the end of my shift keeps me together.”

Elsie leaned over and kissed his cheek, her face aglow as she stared up at her husband.

“And you, Neal,” John said, turning to the man sitting beside me. “Any deployments on the horizon?”

He shook his head. “No, sir. We're not in the bucket. Right now we're in the training part of the cycle.”

“I thought for sure, with your injuries, that you could have gotten out with disability,” Elsie said.

Neal glanced at me before saying, “I could have. But I didn't want out just yet.”

It had taken me a while to understand Neal's commitment to the military, but I finally got it: sometimes when you find something you really love, you hold on for as long as you can, no matter the cost.

John nodded. “And your other job?”

“That is going pretty well,” Neal replied.

“Three giant technology companies are currently in a bidding war on a program he's been working on all year,” I said.

Neal's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. “But I can't really talk about it with the nondisclosure agreements.”

Elsie went over to an antique steamer trunk in the corner of the family room and pulled out a long red box. “Anyone up for a game of Scrabble?”

“You know I am,” John said, getting to his feet. “It's been a while since I kicked your butt.”

“Oh, can I play?” Will asked, jumping up. “But I don't know how.”

“Sure,” Elsie said, leading the way to the kitchen table, which her dad had already cleared for the game.

Henry swooped in from behind and lifted Will up over his shoulder. “I'll help you out,” he said as Will laughed. “You are getting way too heavy.”

“Soon I'll be as big as you!” Will cried, and I sat there, watching them leave, knowing it was only a matter of time before that was true.

—

Later, as we got dressed in what used to be Elsie's old room but was now a guest room, I said to Neal, “Do you ever think about being a dad?”

He raised an eyebrow as he put on his Air Force wings cuff links. “I know Will is not my biological son, but I already feel like a dad.”

“I mean, having a kid with your own DNA.”

He smiled. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

I turned away, pretending I needed his help zipping up my dress. “No. I was just wondering if you've ever thought about it.”

He clasped my dress together then pressed a soft kiss to the base of my neck. “Julie, I'm very happy with what I have right now. You, me, and Will.”

“So you never think about having a baby with me?” I asked, turning to face him.

“Why does this sound like a trick question?” he asked with eyebrows drawn. “Aren't you, uh, sterilized?”

“There are ways. In vitro being one of them.”

There was a long silence that followed, when we were both lost in our thoughts as we finished getting ready.

Neal was first to break the silence. “Do you? I mean, will you want a baby later on?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I don't. But if you wanted to, I'd be open to it.”

He gathered me close between his legs, looking up at me. “Julie, I don't need a baby as proof that what we have is real, that we're a real family. I have you and Will, and that's more than enough.”

I nodded, brushing my fingers across the back of his neck, and bent down to touch my lips to his. “So you're really fine with everything? Living with us in Dallas?”

“Are you?”

I paused, staring down at the handsome man before me in his formal uniform, thinking about the past year that we'd lived together. “Yes. I couldn't ask for more.”

—

Elodie and John's thirty-fifth wedding anniversary party was held in the grand ballroom in Herrmann Hall, at the Naval Postgraduate School. It had once been a resort hotel visited by the likes of Charlie Chaplin and Jean Harlow but was now owned by the U.S. Navy.

Service members and civilians alike attended the formal party, many of them retired officers who had once held powerful positions in the military and who wore their many accomplishments proudly on their chests. Neal looked gallant in his mess dress—the military's version of a formal suit—and I couldn't have been prouder to stand by his side.

All night people came up to him, asking about the Purple Heart pinned on his jacket, and all night he tried to deflect the attention by talking about anything
but
that heart-shaped medal.

“Poor Neal,” Elsie said when I sat down at the table where she was feeding Lucy some mashed carrots. “He doesn't seem to enjoy all the attention, does he?”

We looked across the room at Neal talking to two men—one with an eagle insignia on his suit and one with enlisted stripes. “Who is he talking to?” I asked.

“I'm not sure who they are, but one is a full-bird colonel and the other is a chief master sergeant, the highest enlisted rank.” She wiped at Lucy's chin with a cloth napkin. “No wonder he's nervous. Those guys are pretty influential.”

I watched Neal talk, taking note of the stiffness of his back. “He just doesn't like talking about the attack, so of course that's all everyone wants to talk about.”

“Did he suffer from PTSD when he came back?”

“I don't know. Maybe,” I said. “He seems the same, but sometimes you can tell he's in a dark place when he gives monosyllabic answers. During those times, he kind of hides away—either works in the office for several hours or works on his plane—and when he comes back, he's back to normal. It doesn't happen quite as often these days, though.” I looked at her. “Was Henry the same way?”

She gave a sad smile. “Not exactly. He used to keep it inside, too, but then it ate away at his confidence until he started to crumble.” She blinked a few times. “But he's really trying. God, the year before we had Lucy was . . .”

I touched her hand, remembering the state she'd been in when she came to our door unexpectedly the year before, pregnant and hysterical. “It's okay now,” I said. “You two went through hell, and now look at you, stronger than ever.”

Elsie looked across the room at her husband, who was talking animatedly with a few people. “Just call me Orpheus, saving my love from Hades.”

“Hey, we do whatever it takes to protect those we love. That's our very own warrior ethos.”

Elsie smiled, her eyes bright with understanding. “Hoorah.”

—

I woke up early the next morning to a hand on my breast, my nipple pinched between two fingers.

“Wake up,” a husky voice whispered by my ear.

I rolled away and burrowed under the blanket. “It's too early.”

“Wake up, Julie, or I'll be forced to deploy my secret weapon,” he said with amusement in his voice. When I didn't respond, he nudged at me from behind with said secret weapon.

“That torpedo was already deployed last night,” I grumbled.

He chuckled and nipped at my shoulder. “Twice, if I remember correctly,” he said. “But that's not what I'm talking about.”

“Then what?”

“This,” he said and tickled my sides, making me squirm around the bed, trying to keep from waking the entire house with my laughter.

“Stop! Okay, I give up!” I cried, throwing my hands up. “I'm awake.”

He pulled away with a grin on his face and slid a palm up my exposed stomach and into the thin fabric of my shirt. “The secret weapon saves the day.”

I looked up at him, brushing hair away from my face. “Why are you waking me so early, anyway? It's not even light out yet.”

He slid his hand up through the collar of my shirt and pinched my chin, tilting my head up to give me a quick kiss. “I figured we could watch the sun rise then go for a run,” he said against my lips. “Like old times.”

My body tingled at the memory and I lifted my head to kiss him again. “Only if you can keep up.”

—

Carmel Beach was chilly that early in the morning, even with our fleece sweatshirts on. Still, we stood together at the edge of the waves and waited for the sun to bathe the world with light. Neal wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I hugged his side as brilliant colors erupted around us, the intense pinks and purples making way for the peach-colored hues as the sun began its ascent in the sky.

Neal cradled my face in his hands and kissed me, his lips soft as they parted mine, his tongue gentle and probing as it dipped inside. I stood on my toes and deepened the kiss, my body coming alive, reacting to him with urgency and need.

After long moments, he pulled away and gazed down at me with a furrowed brow, breathing hard. But just when I thought he was going to tell me some earth-shattering news, perhaps that he was getting deployed again, his face brightened. “Race you,” he said and took off.

It took me a second to recover before I ran after him, my competitive instinct surging. After I caught up to him we jogged for almost a mile down the beach, our footsteps light on the sand, the wind blowing around us. When I closed my eyes for a few seconds it felt like I was truly flying.

We stopped when we came across enormous dark lines on the sand and a man with a small rake. Neal and I stood at the edge of the marked area, trying to catch our breath while the man dragged his rake, creating a giant, intricate sand drawing.

“Come on. We can see it better up there,” Neal said, starting toward a tall dune covered in rocks and plants.

I followed him up, finding it difficult to gain traction on the sandy slope. Neal held his hand out and pulled me up, helping to dust off my sandy running capris.

I turned to look at the drawing on the sand, blown away by the elaborate design the man—the artist, really—was carving onto the beach. He had drawn hundreds of interlocked feathers, some big, some small, all intricate and beautiful.

“I've never seen anything like it,” I said as the artist completed the final feather and moved closer to the water, where he scratched out some letters on the sand where every wave threatened to wash them away. “What's he writing?”

I shielded my eyes from the sun and watched closely as the man wrote a
J
, then a
U
,
L
,
I
, and
E
in quick succession before they were carried off to sea.

My heart stuttered.

M-A-R-R-Y

I held my breath.

M-E

“So, will you?” Neal whispered by my ear, coming up behind me and sliding his arms around my waist. “Marry me?”

He lifted his left hand up to the sun, fingers spread out, a delicate diamond ring sitting on the end of his ring finger.

I stared at the princess-cut diamond sparkling in the morning light, then took hold of the strong hand that was offering it and pressed it against my heart. I didn't say anything; I simply closed my eyes and felt peace washing over me.

“I love you, Julie Grace Keaton. You're the calm in my heart and the air in my lungs and I will need you always.”

I spun around in his arms, sure that my face was glowing. “Yes,” I whispered without doubt or reservation, feeling like a tiny sun was lighting me up from the inside. “I will.”