"Every time Chuck’s due back home, I get sick," Mary confessed, looking disgusted with herself. "It’s all part of the syndrome."

"The homecoming is wonderful, but Wade and I tiptoe around each other for days for fear of saying or doing something that will ruin our reunion," another wife explained.

"We choose to ignore the obvious problems and pass over strife until it’s time for him to be deployed again."

"That’s when it really hits the fan," Susan inserted.

"What do you mean?" Lindy was curious to know. She could understand what the others were saying, although she hadn’t been married long enough to experience with Rush a lot of what the women were warning her about. But the time would come when she was bound to, and she was eager to recognize the signs.

"It seems we’re all susceptible to arguing before our husbands’ leave," Joanna explained.

Lindy remembered how Rush had purposely picked a fight with her the afternoon he’d learned the repairs to the Mitchell had been completed.

"Rush jumped all over me for putting his book away," Lindy told the others. "I didn’t understand it at the time. It was so ridiculous, so unreasonable and not like him at all."

The others nodded knowingly.

"I imagine it was about that time that Rush realized he loved you," Susan added smoothly. "Jeff pulled the same thing. He always does. The day he comes home and suggests it’s time I go on a diet, I know what’s coming. He’s just learned when he’ll be deployed. Jeff loves what he does, but he loves me and the kids, too. It’s a crazy kind of tug-of-war that goes on inside him. He dreads leaving, hates the thought of all those months apart, and at the same time he’s eager to sail. He can hardly wait to get out on the open seas."

"Try to make sense out of that if you can," Mary grumbled. "But this is all part of being a navy wife."

"And then there’s the constant knowledge that we can be transferred at any time."

"Say, did anyone else hear the rumor that the Mitchell could be reassigned to Norfolk?"

"It’s just gossip, Sissy," Joanna answered. "There’s no need to worry about it now."

"See what I mean," Susan told Lindy with a soft laugh.

"You mean the Mitchell might transfer its home port to Norfolk?" Already Lindy was thinking about what would happen with her job if Rush was to be stationed in another state. She’d have to go with him and leave Seattle. Of course she could always find another job, but she didn’t relish the thought. A growing knot of concern started to form in her stomach.

"The Nimitz was transferred from Norfolk to Bremerton," Sissy reminded the group.

"Two joys of navy life," Mary muttered disparagingly. "Deployment separation and cross-country moves."

"If worse comes to worst, we’ll survive."

It was apparent to Lindy that Joanna was the cool voice of reason in this friendly group. Lindy still had trouble keeping track of who was who, but felt that she was going to fit in nicely. It was as though she were being welcomed into a sorority. The other navy wives’ acceptance of her was automatic, their reception warm.

"We always survive," Susan added softly. "Now, as I said earlier, we’re not going to knock poor Lindy over the head with everything in one afternoon."

"Yeah, we plan to give it to you in small doses."

"Has anyone else stopped to figure out how much time married couples are separated if the husband is in the navy?" Mary asked, holding a calculator in her hand. Her fingers were punching in a long list of numbers that she called out at regular intervals. "According to my figures, during a twenty-year enlistment – " her fingers flew over the keys " – the husband and wife will spend six years apart."

"Six years?" Lindy repeated while the numbers whirled around her head.

"It’s not so bad," Susan said, and patted Lindy’s hand to tell her she understood her friend’s distress. "In small doses."

"While I’ve got everyone here," Joanna added, snapping her briefcase shut and setting it aside. "Remember you need to have your letters mailed by the fifteenth of each month."

The other women nodded, apparently already aware of the deadline. Susan had explained to Lindy earlier that because the Mitchell was deployed in unfriendly waters, the mail would be flown in with supplies only once a month.

"When are we going to eat?" Sissy asked, craning her neck to peek into the kitchen.

"Every time Bill’s gone, Sissy gains ten pounds."

"I work it off once he’s home, so quit teasing me."

"I could make a comment here, but I won’t," Sandy muttered, and the others laughed.

"Well, if a certain someone doesn’t feed me soon, I’m going to fade away before your very eyes." Dramatically Sissy placed the back of her hand against her forehead and released a long, expressive sigh.

"Okay, okay," Susan said with a laugh. "Lunch is served."

Everyone stood at once and moved into the kitchen. The table was arranged with a variety of salads, buffet style. Plates and napkins were arranged at one end and the forks fanned out attractively.

"I brought the recipe for the Cobb salad, in case anyone’s interested," Paula commented.

"I wish you had said something," Lindy complained under her breath to Susan. "I could easily have brought something."

"You’re our guest of honor."

"We’re all dying to know how you met Rush," Sissy said and Joanna moved Lindy to the front of the line and handed her a plate.

"I think he’s sexy as hell, and Doug told me he could hardly believe Rush would marry someone he only knew two weeks."

"Well, actually," Lindy murmured as an embarrassed flash of color entered her cheeks, "it was closer to three weeks."

The women laughed.

Sissy pressed her hand over her heart and sighed. "That’s the most romantic thing I’ve heard in years and years."

Elly’s shoulders moved up and down as well in an elongated sigh. "I always knew when the big man tumbled, he’d fall hard."

"He’s so handsome," Mary interjected.

"So dedicated," Paula added.

"Until the night of your wedding dinner, he was always so…detached and distant. We all noticed the change in him."

"Thank you," Lindy answered softly.

"I bet he’s a good lover."

"Sissy!"

Lindy laughed because although the others had been quick to chastise their friend they eagerly looked in her direction for a response. Not willing to disappoint them, she wiggled her eyebrows a few times and nodded.

"I knew it. I just knew it," Sissy cried.

"Are we going to eat, or are we going to talk about Lindy’s love life all afternoon?" Joanna asked.

The women looked at each other, came to some sort of tacit agreement and set their plates aside.

"Are you all right?" Jeff asked Rush as he moved past his friend to the engine-order telegraph.

"Fine." The word was as sharp as a new razor. Rush wasn’t willing to discuss his problems with anyone, not even Jeff.

"There’s got to be some logical explanation why Lindy hasn’t written."

"Right," Rush answered, but he avoided looking at his friend, doing his best to look busy. He didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t going to discuss his troubles either.

"Susan’s letter says the wives’ association had Lindy over for lunch recently."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"I think it should." Jeff unfolded Susan’s thick letter and scanned its contents. "Lindy’s kept in close contact with Susan and the others."

"That doesn’t mean a damn thing."

"Apparently they had a wedding shower for her."

That made him feel a whole lot better, Rush mused sarcastically. Lindy seemed to have forgotten she had a husband, but she was busy accepting wedding gifts.

Jeff paused and cleared his throat. "It seems the wives went together and got Lindy a long silk nightie."

Rush didn’t respond. His jaw was clenched so tightly that he was convinced his back molars would crack. He’d been four interminable weeks without a single word from Lindy. A whole damn month. The knot in his stomach was tight enough to double him over. His nerves were shot. He found himself snapping at his men, behaving irrationally, becoming angry and taking it out on everyone else. And worse, he wasn’t sleeping. For two nights now he hadn’t been able to so much as close his eyes. Every time he did, the images that filled his mind were of Lindy with another man, presumably Paul. The hot surges of anger and adrenaline that shot through him were so strong that any chance of falling asleep was a lost cause. Lindy might as well have taken a knife and cut open a vein as not written.

Unwillingly Rush’s mind leaped to a memory of how it had been with Cheryl. At first there’d been a flood of letters, filled with all the right phrases, everything a man longs to hear when he’s separated from the woman he loves. Then Cheryl’s letters had petered out to a handful in a month, and then just a sporadic few before his return.

But damn it all to hell, Lindy was his wife. He’d slipped a diamond ring on her finger and committed his life to her. He’d expected more of her than this. But apparently she took her vows lightly because she’d sure as hell forgotten him the minute he was out of sight.

It was a mistake to have married her. But he’d been so much in love with her that he’d refused to listen to the calm voice of reason. He’d lost one woman and feared losing another. He should have known standing before a preacher wasn’t going to make any difference, but he would never have believed Lindy could do this. All her reassurances about knowing her own heart had fooled him. She’d been so positive they were doing the right thing. None of that confidence was worth a damn now. They’d both made a mistake. A bad one. At the rate things were progressing, this marriage could be the single worst disaster of his life.

"I’m going below," Rush announced, walking away from the gyrocompass repeater, which indicated the Mitchell’s course. The sight of Jeff holding a letter from home was more than Rush could take. He needed to escape before he said or did something he’d regret.

Jeff nodded, but his brow was creased with tight bands of concern.

Once in his compartment, Rush lay on his back with his hands cupped behind his head. Steve was right. Rush had known it the minute his friend had said as much. Lindy had married him on the rebound, and now that he was gone she’d realized what a terrible error in judgment she’d committed and wanted out.

They’d been living in a fairy tale, forced to share the apartment the way they were, and like a fool Rush had gotten sucked into the fantasy. Lindy had been wounded by love and Rush had been a convenient source of comfort to her damaged ego.

Now that he was gone, Lindy realized their mistake. The muscles of his stomach knotted when he realized how helpless he was in this situation. Lindy didn’t love him.