Navy Brat

Dear Erin,



You don’t know me. At least I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m Ginger Romano. My husband, Alex, and Brand Davis are both aboard the Blue Ridge. By now you’ve probably heard about Brand’s promotion. He’s been promoted to full-grade lieutenant.



Brand’s real popular with the guys, and they wanted to do something special for him. That’s why Alex wrote me about you. A few of Brand’s friends decided to get together and throw a surprise party for him to celebrate his promotion.



Someone thought it might be fun if they hired a woman to jump out of a cake. That’s when Alex came up with a much better idea. They’re going to throw that party, and there’s going to be a woman there all right, but we want to surprise him with you. Everyone went together and pitched in and we have enough for your airplane ticket. You’re welcome to stay at the house here with Alex and me, if you don’t mind kids. We have three, and they’re a handful, but the welcome mat’s out and we’d really be pleased if you could.



Let me know at your earliest opportunity if it’s the least bit feasible for you to arrive the second week of October. We’ll need to know soon, though, so we can book your flight. Please remember this is a surprise. I’m looking forward to meeting you.



Sincerely, Ginger Romano



"You’re going?" Aimee asked again, as if she still couldn’t believe Erin had agreed to this crazy, spur-of-the-moment plan. "You’re honestly going?"



Maybe it was a crazy thing to do, but Erin couldn’t resist. She could never have afforded the airplane ticket herself, and this seemed her golden opportunity to spend time with Brand. They’d been apart so many months, and they’d trudged over a mountain range of emotions and doubts.



She had his picture, but she wasn’t exactly sure she remembered what he looked like. He’d contacted her by phone only one time in the last six months. Was she flying to him? In a heartbeat!



"I’m going," she assured Aimee, tucking her curling iron in her suitcase.



"I don’t suppose you need a friend to tag along for moral support?"



"I do, but I can’t afford you," Erin joked.



"Don’t worry, I can’t afford me, either. Apparently no one can, not even Steve." She was trying to make light of the facts with a joke, but it fell flat.



"Don’t worry," Erin promised, "I’ll be back in time for the settlement hearing. I won’t let you go through this alone."



Aimee’s eyes filled with appreciation. "Thanks. I’m counting on you." She glanced around the bedroom one last time. "Well, it looks like you’ve got everything under control." Aimee made it sound like a sharp contrast to her own life, and Erin struggled with a sudden twinge of guilt.



"Hey," Aimee said with a short, pathetic laugh, "don’t look so woebegone. It isn’t every day you get an opportunity like this. Enjoy it while you can. Play in the sun, relax, stroll along the beach. I’ll be fine… You don’t need to worry about little ol’ me."



"Aimee!"



"All right, all right, I’m being ridiculous. I do want you to have fun. It’s just that I’m going to miss you something terrible."



"I’m going to miss you, too, but it’s only a week."



Erin glanced around one last time to be sure she’d packed everything she needed. Aimee was driving her to the airport and dropping her off. In less than two hours she’d be boarding the flight. Several hours later, she’d step off the Boeing 747 in Honolulu, where Ginger would be waiting to pick her up. She’d be leaving the cold rain of Seattle behind and disembarking in balmy eighty-degree sunshine.



Not a bad trade.



The flight seemed to take an eternity. Several times Erin had to pinch herself to make sure all this was real. She felt like a game-show winner who hadn’t expected anything more than the consolation prize. Yet here she was flying to Brand with seven uninterrupted days of heaven stretching out in front of her.



The Blue Ridge was due to sail into Pearl Harbor sometime late Wednesday afternoon. The party was scheduled for Thursday evening. Ginger had taken care of most of the details, along with a couple of other navy wives and Lieutenant Commander Catherine Fredrick-son, another of Brand’s friends. For the past month, Erin had been corresponding with Ginger, and she liked her immensely.



The hardest part was keeping the fact that Erin was in Hawaii a secret until Thursday evening.



"I don’t know where the hell she could be," Brand told Romano Thursday morning. "I tried phoning every hour all night. She didn’t mention she was going away."



"Maybe something came up."



"Obviously," he barked. Brand was in a sour mood. For days he’d been looking forward to phoning Erin. It was the first thing he’d done when he’d walked into his apartment. The anticipation of hearing her voice was the only thing that had gotten him through those last few weeks. Rarely had he ever been more restless or more ready for a tour to end.



Each night for three weeks he’d dreamed of listening to the soft catch in her voice when she realized it was him on the line. For the first time in six hellish months he could speak to her freely without someone standing over his shoulder the way Alex had in the Philippines. He hoped that when they spoke this time they might accomplish something.



At the very least they could discuss what they had to do to see each other again.



For several long months he’d thought of little else but being with Erin again. Yet, when the time arrived, she was gone. Vanished. No one seemed to know where she was.



Brand had gone so far as to contact her family. Casey didn’t sound the least bit concerned, claiming Erin often had to travel out of town on business trips. But, now that Brand mentioned it, Casey did seem to remember Erin saying something about flying off to Spokane sometime soon.



If that was the case, she hadn’t bothered to tell Brand.



"How about going out for a couple of beers?" Romano suggested late that same afternoon.



"Ginger’s going to let you?" he asked disbelievingly.



"She won’t care. Bobby’s at soccer practice, and frankly, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her."



Brand didn’t know what had gotten into his friend. Usually Alex couldn’t wait to get home to his family, and once he was back, he spent plenty of time with the youngsters. Brand had always admired the fact Romano was a good family man. He hoped when the time came he’d be as conscientious a husband and father.



Brand considered his options. It was either hang around his apartment all night, hoping Erin would contact him, or visit the Officers’ Club and talk shop with a few old friends. The second option was by far the most appealing, yet something elemental tugged at his heart. He hated the thought he might miss Erin, if she should happen to call.



"Well?" Romano pressed impatiently. "What’s your choice?"



"I don’t suppose one beer would hurt."



A twinkling light flashed in Alex’s sea green eyes. "Nope, I don’t think it will, either."



As soon as Brand had fastened his seat belt, Romano started the engine and drove past the Officers’ Club and outside the navy compound. "Hey, where are we going?"



"For a beer," Alex reminded him, doing his best to hide a grin.



Something was up. Brand might not have a whole lot to do with Navy intelligence, but he didn’t need a master’s degree in human nature to determine that something was awry.



"All right, Romano," Brand insisted, "tell me what’s going on here."



"What makes you think anything is?"



"Let’s start with the fact you’re free the second night we’re in port?"



"All right, all right, if you must know, the guys went together and planned a small party in your honor, Lieutenant Davis."



Amused, Brand chuckled. He should have known a long time before now that his friends wouldn’t let that pass without making some kind of fuss. "Who’s in on this?"



"Just about everyone. Only…"



"Only what?"



"There’s one small problem, if you want to call it that." Romano hesitated. "It’s a little bit embarrassing, but the guys wanted to make this special, so they hired a woman."



"They did what?" Brand demanded.



"Someone got the bright idea that it would be fun to see your face if they rolled in a cake and had a woman leap out of the top."



Brand slowly shook his head. "I certainly hope you’re kidding."



"Sorry, I’m not. I couldn’t talk them out of it."



Brand set his hand over his eyes and slowly shook his head. He should be amused by all this. "A woman?"



"You got it, buddy."



Brand mulled over the information and chuckled. There wasn’t much he could do about it now, but he appreciated the warning. "Whatever happens, don’t ever let Erin find out about it, understand?"



"You’ve got my word of honor."



The Cliff House was a restaurant with a reputation for excellent food and an extensive list of imported wine. Brand was mildly surprised that the establishment would sanction the type of entertainment his friends had planned.



The receptionist smiled warmly when Romano announced Brand’s name, and she gingerly led them to a banquet room off the main dining room.



"Hey, you guys went all out," Brand muttered under his breath as they followed the petite Chinese woman.



"Nothing but the best," Romano assured him, still grinning.



Several shouts and cheers of welcome went out when the two men walked into the room. Brand was handed a bottle of imported German beer and a basket of thick pretzels and led to a table in the front of the room.



"Are you ready to be entertained?" Romano asked, claiming the empty chair beside him. He reached for a bowl of mixed nuts and leaned back, eager for the show.



Brand nodded. He might as well get this over with first thing and be done with it. He forced a smile and a relaxed pose while two of the crewmen from the Blue Ridge rolled out a six-foot-tall box tied up with a large red bow. It wasn’t a cake, but close enough.



"You’re supposed to untie the ribbon," Romano explained, urging him forward.



Reluctantly Brand stood and walked up to the front of the room. There must have been fifty men – and several women – all standing around, intently watching him. He tried to act nonchalant, as if he did this sort of thing every day.



He lifted one end of the broad red ribbon and tugged, expecting it to fall open. It didn’t, and he was offered loud bits of advice by the men on the floor.



Brand tried a second time, tugging harder. The ribbon fell away, and the four sides of the box lazily folded open. Brand wasn’t exactly sure what he expected. His mind filled with several possibilities for which he was mentally prepared. But what did appear left him speechless with shock.



"Hello, Brand," Erin greeted with a warm smile as she stepped forward. She was wearing the same olive-green dress as in the picture she’d sent. For a wild moment, Brand was convinced she was a figment of his imagination. She had to be.